These metaphors for the mind are taken up with a certain avidity, not so much out of a felt need for clarity as out of a kind of habit, the memory of the pleasure in first attaining this level of abstraction as a social milestone. Does a child have a mind before it is taught to think in a certain way, before it is warmly welcomed into the community of those with minds? Watching a child acquire language is like watching a series of dams bursting. There is a thought or a sensation and I can choose to place attention on the event of the thought or sensation, on what could be called the having of it, its adverbial quality as pure verb, in a world in which there are only verbs and adverbs. This is possible because the event of the thought or sensation flows in time in a different way and has a different kind of identity from what is meant in the thought or perceived in the sensation. I am able to compare two experiences of the same thing, and for that to be possible the experiences must be objective to me in a different way from the thing experienced. The memory of a thought is the thought, but the memory of a sensation is not the sensation. This is not yet having a mind. There needs to be some level of frustration, some sense in which the thoughts are not powerful or as flexible or as versatile, as free, as their nature suggests they ought to be. Sensations can be lost in a way that neither thoughts nor things can; we remember them but where have they gone?. We discover that thoughts are constrained by other thoughts, by logical relations, by associations and by priorities and dependencies. It is the constraints, the limitation in degree of freedom that brings the mind on stage.