The act of turning consciousness back upon itself is an exceedingly difficult task, some asshole once said, and he wasn't kidding.
How are you going to find your mind!
You try Zen!
You try Beach Boys music, because your dog likes it!
You try Cheerios! Cheerios! Oh my God you did it!
Something about Cheerios being round and the cyclical nature of Unresolved Earthshine gives you insight for a split second on the task at hand, and that smidgen was quite enough. You have found your mind. With fucking Cheerios.