Two monks were arguing about a flag. One said the flag was moving; the other said the wind was. A teacher walking past handed them a third answer: mind is moving. The exchange survives as case 29 of The Gateless Gate, a koan (say "koh-ahn") collection assembled in the thirteenth century. The wind still exists, and the laundry will confirm it. What the teacher interrupted is the part of an argument both sides forget: the mind that's picked a position and would now rather win than look again. Every kitchen has a flag like this, who left the light on, what somebody's tone meant, a detail whose practical value expired an hour ago. In your next small dispute, notice the moment the subject stops mattering and winning takes over. Let the flag flap without you.