Jack wrote this in February, 2006:
Time was I thought this range of subtle energies we use, that we’ve found ourselves with, somehow implies something more. Some level of wisdom, higher perception, of realization and deeper meaning than the run-of-the-mill, non-metaphysical population carries around.
But as the years have progressed I’ve gradually had to accept it isn’t so. Not for me, not for almost any of us.
We discover we can fix pain, injury, illness in people, animals, or we can convert subtle energy into intent, and no matter how good we get at doing it, we’re like snakes slithering around still burdened by last year’s skins.
That box we keep in the corner of the room keeps squirting the brainwash into our heads, telling us it matters what the stumblers in Washington did today, what happened somewhere that we can’t do anything about to and by people we know nothing of.
We pull our intelligence down, our perceptions, and we focus on what we can’t change, mightn’t change if we could.
The old Universe has provided us with an amazing obstacle course to wind through. It’s lined the paths with candy bars and bright red automobiles to give us something, anything to think about so’s we don’t have to know we have do die someday. We stare at those red hunks of metal and salivate over the candy bars while the minutes, the days, the years pass without our looking inside ourselves, at what we’re doing, what we’re wasting.
We’re mostly just asleep at the wheel, same as everyone else. Same as old fat Mehitabel, lying there letting it pass without notice.