Anything you can verbally explain to your own satisfaction --
you do not fully understand.

The art of DoingTheThing is being able to see that which has no name.
The real name of everything already named is, redundancy;
only the useless is identifiable.

There is a consistency to men’s day dreams: they either concern things which you have yet to do, or things you have already done,
but unsatisfactorily.

The art of DoingTheThingis not a lost art  --  but one daily discovered --  all over again.
 

Those who can say what they like and what they do not without speaking,
never have much regard for the arts.

No form of criticism will ever lead to understanding.

Time is the world of two  --
understanding is tri pronged.

The certain man must grow up at least as fast as life does.

Ordinary consciousness has an automatic suppresser to keep certain ideas from staying on its screen with sufficient intensity to alter established patterns of thought;
the certain man recognizes this (and need it really be noted), and works against it.

If there is a contradiction between what your thoughts are saying and what life is saying  --  guess who needs correcting.

To mentally chafe at uncontrollable change is to deny that you seek the truth.

If the past is truly useless –
and all normal thought is past-dependent –
what else do you need to know about thought.

Another trick is: think at a different tempo.

If, as science says: there is an inevitable flow from order to chaos,
and man’s mind see everything as either chaotic or falling apart,
how is it amiss?
Only the certain man with his special kind of mind can see what is clearly yellow
yet never use the word.
 

One man who talked about the realization said to a new audience on Monday:
“What I have to tell you is not mere allegory, but actual facts”  --
Tuesday he said: “What I will tell you are not facts, but astounding allegory” and anyone who showed up on Wednesday got the full story.

While life moves gradually, men’s minds are made to comment on it immediately.

You can be DoingTheThing for no other reason than it is your job to do it,
or you can be DoingTheThing as an effort to overcome some external circumstance
that threatens to internally overcome you,
but the only significant consideration is that you are doing it.
(Reasons taken as raison d’êtres is believing condors are born from carrion.)
 

Scientists have said that nature is not interested in productivity --  only survival  --
which could be valid were it not for man’s presence.

When the religious say: “We must be prepared to suffer” they mean that although things seem okay at the moment --  hell’s surely on the way.
(This is why the certain man does not try to look beyond the horizon  –
                                                                         he attempts to live beyond it.)
 

One man made a list of the important things in his life  –  and it turned on him.
    Ordinary facts are isolated and specific
    while understanding is an unfettered survey of all possible connections.
         All opposites =  the same thing.
             The body wants repetition; the mind, rituals  –
              and since none exist, it incessantly invents them.
                  A question only reasonable and useful to the certain man :
                  could a pig be more awake than the sty?
                      If growth is the message,
                      and man is the medium,
                      then what is the delivery system?
 

Although mind was the source of the notion that matter can be neither
created nor destroyed,
it cannot remember to apply this to its own life.

Since it is life speaking through man and not men themselves,
and since life is always right,
understanding this leads to the ultimate forgiving (if not blanket overlooking
[this is also why the certain man tries not to pay attention to what he hears being said inside himself]).
 

The faux struggle is between: seamless reality & fragmented consciousness,
thus the only battle notes worthy of study are those themselves seamless
(which however, makes them at first blush seem irrational
[the sort of minor detail never a deterrent to the certain man].)

All routine maps are finite and have edges –
any map with edges is a play map:
distorted and incomplete:
reality has no edges  --   just like the certain man’s mind.

The ultimate destination of the realization
is a place beyond the edges of all mortal maps.

Part of the secret is in knowing that no map can explain itself.
 

Mind likes to say: “What I am seeing here is just a symptom,
and not the actual problem” --  but everything is symptoms  --
a fact outside the grasp of ordinary fragmented consciousness;
to see it, you must pull both of your I’s/eyes together,
and get over the symptoms of your see-sickness.

Agricultural News (of the allegory variety):
Nothing will grow under laid-back conditions.

Everything would feel differently for you if you treated being alive as, just-an-act  --    same as life does.

The danger in having a non farming hero is that if you ever suddenly see,
you tend to credit him for it.
The certain man in debt is but partially formed.
 

To the mind, words are like blood, and everyone’s is anemic  --
compared to how they could be.

One man tried to send his emotions on an extended holiday  –
they instead shipped him out.
(That is the nice thing about the mind: it can’t go anywhere, but also can’t realize it.)

One man had great private success by investigating himself on the basis that
he is a what, and not a who.

No idea can describe its origin –
no map, the place it was printed –
thus does the certain man pretend to himself to be totally ignorant of
where he came from and how he got where he is today.
(P.S. our word, irrational is derived from the early warning cry that would go out when the-certain-man-ideas were headed your way.)

In the realm of the mind: some things move too fast, and some things move too slow, but hardly anything seems to move just right to a man interested in the matter,
and watching the time.
(This is why the certain man’s mental municipality is sans law enforcement:  no speed traps here!)

A man asked himself: “Is it possible that I can make greater, more radical changes in myself than life does itself?”  --   a most pregnant and promising ponder.
(P.S. the answer surely is no --   and yet none of what the certain man does is possible
under that response.)

All that men decry as, foolishness appears to originate in man (where else!) --
yet it clearly does not:
the pond teaches frogs to croak  --  not warty croaking instructors.