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Your
interest in awakening, enlightenment, or whatever you choose to call it,
will
never get off the ground until you understand for yourself what it is actually
about, beyond any descriptions you have ever heard;
accepting
someone else’s explanation of it will not do,
even
if you are convinced that they know;
and
while it may take decades,
when
the day comes that the reality of what ThisThing
is suddenly hits you --
it
will finally take flight, and nothing will ever be the same.
A
father said to a son: “I am going to tell you something which,
if
you employ reverse technology, can prove of great practical value:
a
man who knows what is going on has no interest whatever in what other people
say, (and thus think that they think);
he
does not feel his thoughts and words to be better than those of others,
he
simply knows ordinary thoughts and words for what they are.
Consider it well -- then work backwards:
a man who knows what is going on
has no interest whatsoever in what other people think or say.”
A
man who thinks of regrets
has
something that will bar him from ever discovering what thinking can truly
be.
One
man suggests: “The way to be rid of a bad law is to prosecute a rich man
with it,
same
with proffering a dumb idea to an awakened man."
Today’s
Travel Tip:
if
you don’t stay home you can’t dislike yourself.
Today’s
Household Tip:
dumb
ideas thrive only at home.
Today’s
Psychology Tip:
do
not dismiss too readily the possibility that men’s sense-of-an-inner-self,
and a dumb-idea are two different things.
Today’s
Second Travel Tip:
if
you don’t stay home
you
won’t remain as victim of dumb ideas as you were born to be.
“Get out more, my boy! -- get out more!”
and the son pointed questioningly to the old part of his brain --
and the elder nodded, “Si.”
(One
man fainted and imagined he had Marco Polo stuck in his teeth,
or
as the FedEx
school song so proudly proclaims:
“It
doesn’t matter where it goes to as long as it gets there on time!”
[and
the band director was suddenly ditzed: “Or is it the other way around?”
--
but,
as the Revitalized Metaphysical Academy’s
motto declares:
“What
Does It Matter Anyway.”
(you
know, you just don’t get that kind of insight from routine educational
outlets.)])
One
man was accused of suffering from:
Carper’s
Tunnel Syndrome: a malady whereby you
whine your way in --
but
can’t cavil your way back out.
In
city minds, all complaining is ever so subtley, cul
de sacky;
those
riding the grouse express never realize their inevitable fate
since
the dark at the end of all thought tunnels is composed of the same
neural
color combinations that produce what passes for light at the entrance.
“So!”
said a lad to his dad:
“That
being the case, then where exactly does making justified
criticism take you?”
and
the old man laughed so hard at the word,
justified
that
he almost blew out the seat of his pants.
In
one city neighborhood they still speak of (and with no small trepidation)
the
extremely upsetting incident of the unusually strange man who,
after
saying: “I’m saying this for the last time!" --
actually
did.
“Father,
I need help with a real puzzler -- a true condom!”
“You
mean, conundrum?”
“Something
tight you pull over your head that diminishes sensation, right?!”
and
they grinned as they shook congratulatory hands.
(Perhaps of passing
interest is that when this lad was grown he was not infrequently accused
of insincerity rivaling that of the notoriously shallow zydeco accordionist,
Clifton Veneer.)
Today’s
Insider’s Tip For Those With The Certain Potential:
If
you are alive,
and
you stop everything for a moment and think about nothing other than the
fact that: you are alive --
you’ll
get a bracingly weird feeling about just
being alive,
(“bracingly-weird"
as in: “a-door-in-my-house-was-just-flung-open-that-I-didn’t-even-know-was-there.”)
Legend
says there was once a land wherein the people decided:
“Let’s
all laugh at the King!..........................................before
he does so at us.”
And
one mental warrior proclaimed to all his bourgeoisie neural neighbors:
“To
die from ignorance is to expire gradually by inches,
but
to go out at the hand of your own self-designed intelligence is to
disappear
all at once -- in a liberating inner explosion."
Regardless
of the cliché: it is not the good
who die young in rebel territory,
but
the dumb and destitute -- the impervious poor --
Jackals
can never be brought in and civilized in the fashion of domesticated pets,
for
within jackals is,
Today’s
Identification Tip:
you
can’t dislike yourself if you have no name.
Today’s
Everything-Rolled-Into-One Tip:
you
can’t dislike yourself if you have no self -- no mentally pictured
self,
that is.
“So
what other kind is there, pa pa?”
“Why thinketh ye that there must be one?”
And
the fight song heard from one rebel band goes:
“When
you don’t know which way you're going -- you’ve still got a
long way to go! -- like in: longer-than-you-can-ever-imagine!
--
like
in can you spell, “never-ending?” --
but
why, if you started out with the real potential,
should
you allow this to happen to you --
all
you have to do to break free of this hobble that initially welds everyone
to their spot is to make whatever efforts are appropriate for you individually
to
bring you to the plain realization that
you
do not have the slightest idea of what ThisThing
is actually
about;
Okay,
a final shot: amongst all of constantly moving humanity,
how
could you spot the certain man,
who alone knows where he is going?
He
is the only one who will not tell
you where he is going,
(and
P.S. him not doing that even with himself,
is
in large part what makes his peculiar sojourn possible).
J
JAN'S
DAILY
REAL
NEWS
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