There is a certain-discontent that permeates the life of man –  specifically his inner,  intangible, spiritual/intellectual/artistic & philosophical affairs  –
and though they give it no single identifying name, it is familiar to all by its omnipresence and relentless motion;
its many manifestations under various guises is in fact
the manifestation of all things strictly human;
without the certain-discontent man would not be Man, but just another primate.
The certain man employs the certain-discontent as the jumping-off-point for
his grand exploration of consciousness.
 
 
 

A wandering guru once came to a village and proclaimed that the way to
Enlightenment was to stand on one leg with your tongue stuck out forever and ever, and the local group of would-be mystical followers decided he was nuts
(and for once they had things right).
 
 
 

Coming from some unidentified location, a booming, authoritative voice was heard:
“All hail and greetings, men of earth!
Is it not pleasant to know that all ideas of personal change are far, far away
while the possibility of nothing is always right at hand.”
 
 
 

Expanded Version Of An Earlier Story.
A wandering guru once came to a village and proclaimed that the way to
Enlightenment was to stand on one leg with your tongue stuck out forever and ever, and the local group of would-be mystical followers decided he was nuts
(and for once they had things right).
Later another holy man visited the town and announced the Awakening
could be gained by restricting one’s diet to only camel-burgers,
and the same group decided that he too was deluded (and again they were correct).
After that a third spiritual teacher arrived who taught that the Great Liberation
could be achieved if men would only rhythmically beat on their heads with
large pieces of broken pottery;
the collection of potential students retired and discussed this latest turn of events
and decided that the law of averages was bound to catch up with them
and began breaking up plates and pitchers to get on with the job at hand.
 
 
 

There can be no self-improvement without a self
(as is fully grasped by those tied to an imaginary self).
The ordinary can change horses in mid stream only by riding unicorns.
    (“Which is worse: dreaming that you can change when you can’t  –   or:
       dreaming that you can change?”)
 
 
 

What passes for intelligence & insight among routine men is simply what they have
so labeled; in one land however, unfinished wiring is not recognized as art.
 
 

Is it possible to be awake and dream at the same time?
  Is it possible for men to live ordinary lives without doing so?
    Are you sure you understand the question?
 
 

Time On Some People’s Hands.
Ordinary men fear the future may be cancelled
while the few expressly attempt to extinguish the past.
 
 

The normal inner life of man is a prison and the few seek escape  --  not penal reform.
 
 

Can you still remember and feel the childhood dreams of becoming knowledgeable; the expectation of becoming real?  If so,
you are a special piece of Life’s-unfinished-business;
welcome home.
 
 

What is it that the unconventional consciousness of the few has to offer
but disorderly delights for the delightfully disorderly.
The boon of waking up is that you can then have any intangible thing you want  –
just like everyone else  – the difference is: you understand what’s going on with it.
    (“No, you can not be the head of our religion/philosophy/politics/culture/society  –
       you know too much”  –   and that’s the ne’er sung words to that tune.
“So: some things in the reality singular to man can only be pursued
in a state of ignorance?!”               You have one too many words in there.)
 
 

And what is it that the few hear within the overall music of the spheres?
Their consciousness goes from the perfunctory practice of the written
collective symphonies  –  to a private, exhilarating improvisation of the improbable.
 
 

Again, coming from somewhere offstage, a voice:
“Life itself is alive!  –  and has its own being.

Men love to dream of gods, secret societies and psychological traumas
(since only the few can bear the glare of direct reality).
 
 

The practical war against confinement & conformity continues,
though the enemy is commonly misidentified.
(Do not forget: Life itself is alive.)
 
 

A man who knows does not lead groups of merely curious seekers,
for the actual path & destination is here now;
and he does not offer religious idiots fodder for their dreams,
for the salvation they imagine they need would be their destruction,
and he does not encourage fools in moot mental speculations,
since the secret is known.
 
 

Any maps that might actually be useful in the pursuit of the special aim
will always be relatively unknown in their time since all things (including maps)
have a life span and the wide-spread usage of such maps would only increase
the rate of their decay.
 
 

But always remember:
There is nothing wrong with an ordinary existence  –   if you’re ordinary.

ThisKindaActivity can be called by many fancy names, but it can also be just pictured
as an unexpected black-hole in the evolutionary fabric of predictability,
and one into which few care to venture.
 
 

The core allure of alcohol & drugs is their ability to open up in ordinary men
the possibility of doing the unexpected, both physically and mentally:
(a cheap imitation of the nervous-system-rebel’s everyday life).
 
 

The power of habit is the technical stability of Life.
 
 

A cloud says: “I once heard a squirrel offer this prayer to the tree gods:
‘Protect me from pretension; save me from suggestion; deliver me from criticism  –   the rest I can do for myself,’  and after pondering this for several thousand years
I must confess that I’m still amazed.”
 
 

A strolling man coming upon an ant can change his direction and avoid stepping on it led by the thought: “I will not crush this smaller creature who is helpless
in the face of me,”  but no such compassion is forthcoming to man from his
planetary companions Mr. Earthquake & Mrs. Tidal wave.
Life looks after itself as best it can, but the minerals in the park dirt did not alone construct the playground equipment;
using as a provisional model the possibility that Life and the Universe could be
two separate entities can lead a perceptive consciousness to several startling places.
 
 

Also: You can never too often remind yourself that the name of a thing is not
its actual name  –   but just what its name is called;
this is how it can seem feasible when one man says: “It is red,” you look and think, “Yeah,” then someone else says: “It is green,” and you look and think, “Yeah,”
and take both claims seriously (separately of course).
 
 

Have you begun to realize even a little that anything mind can say is somehow true  –  and do you initially see the danger in this, which will ultimately be followed by
great joyful relief!       What an entirely amazing and liberating fact:

In bed there is a state just between being awake and being asleep that is neither,
and there is a state just between being alive and being dead that also is neither,
and there is a state just between being of ordinary consciousness
and realizing what’s really going on that to the few is everything.
 
 

There is a secret office responsible for making your phone ring as soon as you
step in the shower    (they only do business however with those who are annoyed by it).
 
 

Note: Seriousness can only exist in conditions where the appearance of separateness is present.
 
 

There was once a man who thought: “If I had a million dollars I am certain I would be more popular and would finally feel myself to be a completed person,”
then one day his dream came true  --  and it turned out that he was partially right.
Not much time passed until he thought:
“You know, in some matters, partially just won’t get it.”
 
 

The ordinary will pursue activities they believe will make them a better-person
while the few struggle to simply make themselves a person.
 
 

In one village was a most respected man whose name was:
The Liberating Silence At The Heart Of All Things
(at least that’s what they assumed  –  but didn’t know for sure –  since he never spoke to anyone).
 
 

The certain man’s great secret struggle begins as: “Me against the world,”
and eventually becomes: “Me against everything,”
(the ultimate, conclusive view cannot be put in words).
 
 

There was once a group of people who lived in the woods near a certain village,
and the town folks were bothered by their belief that the people were engaged in
some unusual activity  --  and they were further disturbed by the fact that they couldn't properly discuss the matter since whatever the reclusive folks were doing, had no name; so they pestered the elder member of the forest group until he agreed to
give their activity a name and soon enough a sign appeared over the path that led to
their woodsy lair: the activity at last had a name:
“Jump In The Ditch & Bang On The Floor.”
(For some reason the villagers’ interest in the group went into a sharp decline.)
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

JAN'S DAILY REAL NEWS