There is an incessant rhythm to human consciousness that overwhelms any desire
a man may have to internally stop, look, and comprehend the nature of consciousness;
it is not stupidity nor false information that impedes the brain’s understanding of this area of its own operations, but rather a relentless, institutional pulsation.
 

As with all matters which have no existence outside the brain’s consciousness,
this is but one of a limitless number of descriptions possible for this phenomenon,
but one whose reality and pertinence in practice is readily observable
for a man with the certain hunger.
In that seeing-what-is-going-on is entirely an action of consciousness,
the first impression men with such an interest have is that
what is keeping them from seeing clearly is in the nature of the thoughts which presently occupy most of their consciousness;
this initial perception is understandable, but definitively what the mind is doing is looking at the load in an unsteady wagon as being the source of the problem
when it is its endless bouncing.
 

Just as there is a common cache from which each man’s brain is fed its thoughts,
so too is there a communal pulsation to the feeding;
the collective mind of man beats world wide at a shared, deliberate tempo,
and this rhythm carries all ordinary brains effortlessly along with it,
so that men have neither the time nor opportunity to get a good, leisurely look at
the never ending stream of thoughts flowing through their brains which
constitutes their consciousness;
it is all just a blur – but it makes no difference  --
life demonstratively does not turn out standard man bearing any need
for his brain to be able to make any meaningful note of this activity,
no more so than his heart’s beating, or lungs’ breathing;
thoughts just appear  --  consciousness just IS  --
and no normal man’s brain feels it should be otherwise.
(Being a safe bet that men with normal brains are not readers of this –
we will press your pants if not on.)
 

When a man is born with that non standard type of brain,
which has an inherent desire to understand what is going on in life,
in a manner which (when he attempts to describe it) he discovers
seems incomprehensible to his parents, peers, and ostensible experts who should,
by title be likewise interested (priests, rabbis, psychologists, et al),
he will eventually find that there are ancient, non mainstream schools (let us call them) come activities whose language appears to track his own out of routine synch interest;
they are always a combination of teaching and practice
(more precise: A teaching, and A practice) whose sincere pursuit, they propose,
will reveal to a participant, an understanding of what life is about
that totally escapes all non participants.
The immediate attraction for a man with the hunger is in the teaching facet  --
the promise of extraordinarily informative ideas to replace the useless ones
which have been overwhelmingly running through his mind since the first day
he remembers being conscious  –
“I knew it!’ (he muses) “I knew there had to be someone before and besides me
who felt this way,”
“and finally” (he thinks) “I have found them,
and the records of what they learned to achieve the goal   ---   I’m home free!”
(But since we will assume that readers with the non normal brains
[and hulks of rusted neural vehicles up on blocks in their front yard]
will  have also accepted the idea that it is not really a bunny who leaves the chocolate eggs
every Easter in the weeds 'round  the blocks,
we will not leave this story at the: “I’m home free!” exclamation
[although it is quite common for such persons to terminally take their involvement in
the school’s teaching as achievement of the aim,
but still we will pretend that you reading this now are not in that category.])
 

As exciting as the discovery and the study of such ideas are initially,
(indeed, near life savers to such people),
ultimately all ideas concerning the goal are irrelevant  --  only practice counts,
and it only really begins to when you dig out through your own efforts
the realization that amidst the myriad of inner methods, tricks, disciplines & rituals  --  --  there is but one practice;
all of the seemingly diverse ones are but obfuscated versions of the one;
the one, put simply, most accurately, and most usefully is: