Without Willful Effort, Mind Doesn’t Care if It Is Asleep
The following recordings are from Jan’s final years, when his voice was diminished and he spoke in a low whisper. Some listeners may find these tapes hard to listen to, or difficult to understand. Thus, as another option, transcripts are being made and will be posted.
Otherwise, turn up the volume and enjoy! Those who carefully listened to Jan during this period consider that he spoke plainly and directly to the matter at hand, “pulling out all the stops,” as he understood that these were to be his last messages to his groups, and to posterity.
Summary = See below
Condensed News = See below
News Item Gallery = None
Transcript = None
Key Words =
Summary
1/24/05:
Notes by TK
Without willful effort, mind doesn’t care that it’s not awake. If/when not awake, the mind doesn’t care that it’s not awake. Dire physical conditions will automatically instill the focus necessary for self-sensation; otherwise only a willful individually directed effort can effect the self-reflexive sensation of awakening. “Mind” is the potential for this willful invocation of self-entity. Else, it is a floating, submerged, immersed, non-existence. (47:37) #3254
Jan’s Daily Fresh Real News (to accompany this talk)
TRUE TRAVELERS
NEVER FINISH THE TRIP
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Few Know That To Get-Off Will Keep You From Catching-On
JANUARY 24, 2005 © 2005: JAN COX
What is it that you expect from trying to crack-the-case? In part it could be described
as your worst fears becoming realized, but what you do not currently understand
is that these worst-fears are not things to be dreaded and avoided, but are in fact to be embraced as your way out of being held by such mundane emotional foolishness.
The few real firemen eat & breathe fire — then secretly retire from the force.
(“So that’s how this deal goes eh?!”
That’s it. With normal people it’s like this: Once a dunce – always a dunce;
with the few it’s: Oh no – you fooled me once.)
The pilots who don’t crash are those who abandon the plane they went up in.
Your nervous-system-prince takes you to the ball but if you come home with him you’re just asking for it.
Even though western towns that wised up won’t give big guns to men with small dicks, the practice remains widespread of exposing large ideas to those with mundane minds, which works out all right since in this instance the container forces the cargo to confirm to its configuration.
(Pst! – truth is: when it comes to extraordinary, liberating ideas,
the container produces its own contents.
[Aka: The man who wakes-up has no one to blame but his self.])
A cosmic traveler told this tale:
“Once while on earth I joined a collection of scientists and philosophers at an open air academy who were passionately discussing the concepts of the real as opposed to
the imaginary and their impact of the life of man.
The debate was centered on the premise that humanity is far too influenced by illusionary ideas, impossible to subject to scientific study and analytical scrutiny;
they seemed in agreement that only that which is real can serve properly the needs
of rational man (though there was less certainty on what it may be).
Then a mathematician arose and declared: ‘Consider this, esteemed colleagues:
In my field we have the perfect example of a concrete, basic reality:
the fact that there is nothing less than zero,’ and as they began to ponder this,
I failed to resist the temptation and asked him about negative numbers:
he surveyed me with a liberal dash of disdain — but replied:
‘They are merely practical conveniences: necessities that do not really exist:
they are imaginary numbers,’ and I said: ‘Well?!’ – then he said: ‘Well?!’
(Travel can be broadening, if your brains don’t get all smooshed under your shirts & toiletries.)”
An email just arrived:
“My three brothers and I were this morning discussing your Daily News writings and my eldest says you are directly talking about that very extraordinary thing which earlier in his life had so fascinated him, but another insists you are simply playing out for us in words the folly of ordinary man, while my third sibling simply says that
you’re crazy. My original intention in contacting you was to ask which of these you say is correct – but I just realized that if you were to respond to this,
my spirit would feel it had fallen under a steamroller.
Thanks anyway for hearing me out.
Sincerely Yours,” etc.
Men have no more cherished belief than: Everything happens for a reason
(which no one really believes).
You can blow your nose – clean your toes – put your hair in rows and take a doze,
the one thing you can not do is see the metaphysical significance in this sentence without inventing it for yourself.
(“Pa pa: Did that man just write a holy book?”
“Always remember son: Wet authors never hunt at night.”)
If it didn’t happen today — it’s not news.
(A headline applicable to every rebel’s life.)
Says one guy: “The good thing about a small preacher is that he can probably do
less damage.”
If you enjoy reading about waking-up & cracking-the-case, at least it’s a start,
but you can’t stop there or it’s like only studying the rules for an eating contest
you want to enter.
Announcement from the other world concerning television and humans:
“In heaven, everyone will have their own show –
unfortunately it will consist of nothing but re-runs. (Sorry about that).”
A speaker in city park declared to the gathered crowd:
“A mortician’s son says the best feature of dying is that you no longer care about fashion.” He then winked at the audience and added:
“I don’t really know if he was a mortician’s son – I just figured that what I said would go down easier with you people if I threw that in.”
Fact: Throwing-in something always makes things go down easier.
“Is that why men put all the really substantial ideas into the mouths of gods?”
Do you continue to surprise you as much as you do the rest of us?
People who like to talk about being “dead-and-gone” are dead and gone.
A man should certainly stand-up-for-what-he-believes-in —
if he is prepared to feel knocked-down by bozo the clown reactions.
When you don’t understand-what’s-going-on, much of what happens in your life,
you find to be off-the-charts.
If death is not a fit mental subject for the living, then with whom is it?!
There’s no way to tell what’s going to happen when your nervous-system is totally in the hands of your nervous-system.
The captains who end up going-down-with-their-ship are those still on board the one they were originally sent out on.
On a street corner stood a chap thrusting handbills on passers-by which said:
“Love – love is the answer,” and when someone came back and asked him:
“Then what is the question,” he replied: “Beat it!”
To make it more manageable: all of the blind live in Ironyville.
(Which many of the inhabitants believe sounds better than its original name: Stupid Falls.)
Initially in this marvelous activity you seem engaged in a mighty battle –
but ultimately you see it to be a struggle with an imaginary foe (though only apparently so).
Someone asks: “Can trying to crack-the-case do your brain any harm?”
Would you care for a collateral inquiry:
“How could you tell that harm has been done?”
(And a reader quickly emails: “That’s not funny….
at least that’s what I just heard
said in my head.”)
Regarding every day’s weather: Must not a meteorologist be unbiased
to properly deliver the report?
The benefit of not-telling-yourself-what-you’re-doing is in keeping the fresh effort
and subsequent knowledge just outside the routine awareness of your established nervous-system circuitry.
The captain who actually completes the voyage is he who keeps the ship’s owner
and on-board lackey in the dark.
If death is not a fit mental subject for the living
then with whom is the matter of stupidity appropriate?
Once you are well into the journey it is easy to forget how extraordinary it is to be involved in such a wondrous affair amidst the everyday affairs of normal life –
and that no one is aware of what you are doing.
You err when you think the mystery of life has now gone missing –
you are living it.
J