If you’re not going anywhere  --  you can’t be late,
and if you don’t really know where it is that you imagine you’re going --
you can never determine whether you are there or not.
  There’s always a bright side to everything  –
   except a burned-out bulb that’s heard itself so described.
      (“That is surely the one area in which inanimate objects have it over humans:
          they can’t  know how dumb they are.
          Hey! –  right there’s a bright-side to my own condition.      Neat.”)
 
 
 

Though Life (through the thoughts it puts in him) makes man tell himself otherwise:
the fundamental dynamics of consciousness are mechanical and non-personal:
both features being quite unacceptable to normal human thinking.
 
 
 

If you are satisfied with a particular map  –  you don’t understand it.
 
 
 

After failing to achieve full enlightenment,
one man became a non-abrasive bathroom cleaner.
    (“He’s certainly brightened up this place.”
Perhaps provoked by all of this: one spiritual seeker has written an
inspirational hymn: “I’ve Scrubbed All The Stains From The Toilet Of My Soul.”)
 
 
 

Update Of A Previously Reported Story.
The fundamental dynamics of consciousness are mechanical and non-personal,
and none but the non-standard of mind will fail to take this personally.
 
 
 

Says one man:
”Sometimes I almost get-it!  –  then I get over it.                     Damn sam from nottingham!”
 
 
 

The consciousness manifested by a normal man’s “I” -- upon seeing a train for the first time reduce its speed at marked crossings, could concluded that locomotives are somehow physically slowed down by the appearance of crossing signs:
this is an example of how Life’s primal flow is contained and directed
when it enters the consciousness area of the human brain.
 
 
 

The desire to achieve a particular thing originates either at the cellular or mental level; from staying alive to becoming a celebrity.
(And as you might surmise: each of the two has its own distinct flavor and intensity.)
 
 
 

No action is wasted in Life…..except perhaps the saying of this….no, it’s still true:
No action is actually wasted in Life.
    (“Damn!” said the mercury to the glass, “If I don’t sometimes almost get-it!”)
If shadows weren’t so sun shy their confusion would be over in an instant.
The way dogs continue to get by with chasing their tail is by pretending they don’t hear  humans when they talk and laugh about it.
And in their home cave, shadows say with all apparently appropriate sincerity:
“What sun?”
The way to be dumb and satisfied is to be REALLY dumb  –  completely dense  –  world-class stupid [which is to say]: ordinary.
(See!  And you thought this item wasn't going to end on a bright note!)
 
 
 

Shaky boats float who say they can,
(or at least via ventriloquism make creaking noises taken to be such an assertion).
How can you top a land-of-make-believe wherein all are made to believe that it’s not!
 
 
 

If you are satisfied with a particular map  –  it’s time to move on.
 
 
 

There was once a guy who wrote a daily newspaper column composed of
pithy observations and original proverbs about which readers would often say to him that while they enjoyed his work, they didn’t understand half of it, and he’d sometimes reply: “Hell, don’t feel bad, neither do I.”          (Which always seemed to please them much.)
 
 
 

While the primal flow of Life feeds man’s “I” (same as everything else about him)
the former experiences time at a different tempo than the latter, and comprehending this explains much that is presently incomprehensible.
 
 
 

Trying to solve-the-case is like archeology in the opposite direction.
 
 
 

 The rich don’t talk about  money and the frequently laid don’t palaver about sex,
and neither does the man-who-knows-what's-going-on yack about same.
 
 
 

One king (to add a needed dash of joviality to otherwise drab penal activities)
named the road to the royal prison, Freedom Highway,
which inspired one of the villagers to call the thoughts that automatically appear in
his mind, thoughts.                              Guess sarcasm crosses all social strata.
 
 
 

A truly civilized milieu is one in which everybody has firm, aggressive advice on matters technically requiring specialized training and expertise (such as medicine, psychiatry, international relations, economics, and of course, morality).
Once the collective neural life of a group reaches a particular pitch,
everyone suddenly knows what’s wrong with life.
 
 
 

You cannot directly stop nor alter the primal flow of Life –
what you can do however, is learn to digest it in a non-standard manner
via an expansion of your consciousness.
 
 

The great thing about contracting a terrible, threatening illness at an early age
and surviving is that you can write you memoirs while still a teenager
and people will buy it and pretend to be interested.
 
 
 

Everything accepted as fact by ordinary people concerning man’s many intangible concerns is for the rebel but the surface of a bottomless sea.
 
 
 

It is not that you must learn to be tolerant & compassionate –
but rather to BE tolerant & compassionate.
Just taking a horse some water doesn’t make you understand a horse.
 
 
 
 

“I” could be described as Life’s primal flow in its most useful form (in this Universe).
    (“That’s a hellava responsibility to place on man,” said a man,
“Think about me,” said Life.)
 
 

Maps you still have with you are now no good.
 
 
 

Life’s primal flow must continually splinter and assume seemingly discrete shapes, apparently in conflict with one another for Life to thrive and grow:
this is why, in the entirety of man’s multifaceted intangible/cultural/spiritual/artistic realm there are no solo intellectual acts:
all ideas therein come in pairs; in that specialized sphere appear no one-man-bands, only singing duos.
  He who cracks Life’s case does so by the primal flow staying intact
  even into the areas of his individual consciousness:
  this is what does not occur naturally in the collective mind of humanity.
 
 
 

Some men seem to experience life from the skin out, and others from the skin in.
(Does anyone smell “I” and “Not-I” from the Great Equation?)
 
 
 

A father said to a son:
“Consciousness has a hunger not experienced by the lower areas of man’s nervous-system and overlooking this is a real shame.
You could say that the exceptional feeding of the mind is what distinguishes the few from the many.
(Wow –  I almost said ‘the new’ instead of ‘the few’  – Phew!  that certainly would’ve been a world-class gaff, huh!?”             And the lad smiled the laddy smile.)
 
 
 

There is no Great Awakening without great posture.
 
 
 

Life’s primal flow in undivided form is what children in their dreams call god.
 
 
 

Conversation.
“How is it that men can fake a particular emotion and soon begin to actually
experience it? --  and how is it that no one takes this into the realm of thought?”
    “But men do, it’s called: self-delusion.”
“Okay, let me rephrase it: How come no one uses this in the mental realm in
their effort to expand routine consciousness?”
    “Well shit  –  you’ve made it too difficult to respond to now.”
Any conversation from which you come away satisfied was a useless conversation.
    (“Yeah, but you’re now talking about the ones that just go on inside of you, right?!”)
Waiting for the phone to ring is like dreaming you’ll invent the phonograph in 6000 B.C.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Jan's Daily Fresh Real News