The mind can still slip away at the speed of a thought and without giving a moment’s notice. This means that we have to choose something useful to bear in mind – and to put some effort into staying with it – in order to keep to the fore an object or theme that supports clear, empathic, or stabilising states of mind. One of the fundamental ways of bringing the mind into the present moment is to focus on how we sense our own body. This bodily sense – that is awareness of the sensations and energies that manifest in the body – is something immediate that we can contemplate. It gives us ground and balance. It gives us the sense of being where we are. Although this may seem basic and obvious, much of the time we are not grounded in where we really are. Instead we are ‘out there’ in a world of changing circumstance and reactions to that, without having a central reference.
Ajahn Sucitto, Meditation, A Path to Awakening
“Happiness,” Helen Keller wrote, “is not attained through self-gratification but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.” In a society bent on individualism, the insight bends the mind a bit. But think a minute. To realize what great stream of life flows in us, to discover who and what we are and then to give ourselves over to the energy and drive of it for the sake of the world at large has got to be the greatest personal insight in life. 
As I live my day, I always try to have a contemplation going – whether I’m talking to people, riding in a car, giving teachings, or eating. This can be as simple as bringing my mind back to the thought “May others be happy” at every opportunity. Or I might focus on selflessness or how to help someone who is ill. That power of intention helps me turn confusion on its ear and enjoy my life. When self-absorption arises, I use the precision of my morning meditation to turn the energy inside out. I find that the more I do this, the less worried I feel. Each day is an opportunity to sharpen and deepen the conclusions I’ve drawn in my morning practice.
There is much evidence on several levels that there are at least two major tasks to human life. The first task is to build a strong “container” or identity; the second is to find the contents that the container was meant to hold. The first task we take for granted as the very purpose of life, which does not mean that we do it well. The second task is encountered more than sought; few arrive at it with much preplanning, purpose or passion. We are a”first-half-of-life-culture”, largely concerned with surviving successfully. We all try to do what seems like the task that life first hands to us: establishing an identity, a home, relationships, a family, community, security and building a proper platform for our only life. But it takes us much longer to discover “the task within the task” as I like to call it: what we are really doing when we are doing what we are doing. 
