There was a gal who played the same song over and over all her life. She hated that song but she played it just the same, it was what her fingers did. She wanted to change it up and tried many different ways to get somewhere else. Took music lessons and read “how to” books, attended seminars, went on retreats, wore different fashions, burnt sage, hammered mezuzahs into doorways, joined hot yoga, tai chi, long distance running even curling. Nothing changed her song, she played it over and over. She thought how sad it would be if on her death bed she was still playing that song. Something was missing from her understanding of her problem, so she kept thinking about it, thinking about what she might do next, thinking about how to become a different thinker. What other choice is there?