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Now, when we talk about knowledge, what do we mean by that word? What is it that we know? What do you really know, when you come to consider the knowledge you have accumulated? At a certain level, in science, engineering, and so on, knowledge is important; but beyond that, what is it that we know?
J Krishnamurti
Part One Chapter 11
You will remember that we have been talking about fear. Now, is not fear responsible for the accumulation of knowledge? This is a difficult subject, so let us see if we can go into it, let us consider it very carefully.
Human beings accumulate and worship knowledge, not only scientific but so-called spiritual knowledge. They think that knowledge is so important in life - knowledge of what has happened, and of what is going to happen. This whole process of accumulating information, worshipping knowledge - does it not arise from the background of fear? We are afraid that without knowledge we would be lost, we would not know how to conduct ourselves. So, through reading what the sages have said, through other people's beliefs and experiences, and also through our own experiences, we gradually build up a background of knowledge which becomes tradition; and behind this tradition we take refuge. We think this knowledge or tradition is essential, and that without it we would be lost, we would not know what to do.
Now, when we talk about knowledge, what do we mean by that word? What is it that we know? What do you really know, when you come to consider the knowledge you have accumulated? At a certain level, in science, engineering, and so on, knowledge is important; but beyond that, what is it that we know?
Have you ever considered this process of accumulating knowledge? Why is it that you study, why do you pass examinations? Knowledge is necessary at a certain level, is it not? Without a knowledge of mathematics and other subjects, one could not be an engineer or a scientist. Social relationship is built upon such knowledge, and we would not be able to earn a livelihood without it. But beyond that kind of knowledge, what do we know? Beyond that, what is the nature of knowledge?
What do we mean when we say that knowledge is necessary to find God, or that knowledge is necessary to understand oneself, or that knowledge is essential to find a way through all the turmoils of life? Here we mean knowledge as experience; and what is this experience? What is it that we know through experience? Is not this knowledge used by the ego, by the `me', to strengthen itself?
Say, for instance, that I have achieved a certain social standing. This experience, with its feelings of success, of prestige, of power, gives me a certain sense of assurance, of comfort. So the knowledge of my success the knowledge that I am somebody, that I have position, power, strengthens the `me', the ego, does it not?
Have you not noticed how knowledge-puffed the pundits are, or how knowledge gives to your father, your mother, your teacher the attitude, `I have experienced more than you have; I know and you do not'? So knowledge, which is merely information, gradually becomes the sustenance of vanity, the nourishment of the ego, the `me'. For the ego cannot exist without this or some other form of parasitical dependence.
The scientist uses his knowledge to feed his vanity, to feel that he is somebody, just as the pundit does. Teachers, parents, gurus - they all want to be somebody in this world, so they use knowledge as a means to that end, to fulfil that desire; and when you go behind their words, what is it that they really know? They know only what the books contain, or what they have experienced; and their experiences depend on the background of their conditioning. Like them, most of us are filled with words, with information which we call knowledge, and without it we are lost; so there is always fear lurking behind this screen of words, of information.
Where there is fear, there is no love; and knowledge without love destroys us. That is what is happening in the world at the present time. For example, we now have sufficient knowledge to feed human beings throughout the world; we know how to feed, clothe and shelter mankind, but we are not doing it because we are divided into nationalistic groups, each with its own egotistic pursuits. If we really had the desire to stop war we could do so; but we have not that desire, and for the same reason. So knowledge without love becomes a means of destruction. Until we understand this, merely to pass examinations and achieve positions of prestige and power inevitably leads to deterioration, to corruption, to the slow withering away of human dignity.
It is obviously essential to have knowledge at certain levels, but it is even more important to see how knowledge is used egotistically, for selfish purposes. Observe yourself and you will see how experience is employed by the mind as a means of self-expansion, as a means of power and prestige. Watch the grown-ups and you will see how they hanker after position and cling to their success. They want to build a nest of safety for themselves, they want power, prestige, authority - and most of us, in various ways, are after the same thing. We don't want to be ourselves, whatever we are; we want to be somebodies. There is a difference, surely between being and wanting to be. The desire to be or to become is continued and strengthened through knowledge, which is used for self-aggrandizement.
It is important for all of us, as we are maturing, to go into these problems and understand them, so that we do not respect a person merely because he has a title or a high position, or is supposed to have a great deal of knowledge. Actually, we know very little. We may have read many books, but very few have direct experience of anything. It is the direct experiencing of reality, of God, that is of vital importance; and for that, there must be love.
Part One Chapter 12
Is it not very important, while we are young, to be loved, and also to know what it means to love? But it seems to me that most of us do not love, nor are we loved. And I think it is essential, while we are young, to go into this problem very seriously and understand it; for then perhaps we can be sensitive enough to feel love, to know its quality, its perfume, so that when we grow older it will not be entirely destroyed. So let us consider this question.
What does it mean to love? Is it an ideal, something far away, unattainable? Or can love be felt by each one of us at odd moments of the day? To have the quality of sympathy, of understanding, to help someone naturally, without any motive, to be spontaneously kind, to care for a plant or a dog, to be sympathetic to the villager, generous to your friend, to a neighbour - is this not what we mean by love? Is not love a state in which there is no sense of resentment, but everlasting forgiveness? And is it not possible, while we are young to feel it?
While we are young many of us do experience this feeling - a sudden outgoing sympathy for the villager, for a dog, for those who are little or helpless. And should it not be constantly tended? Should you not always give some part of the day to aiding another, to caring for a tree or a garden, to helping in the house or in the hostel, so that, as you grow to maturity, you will know what it means to be considerate naturally, without enforcement, without motive? Should you not have this quality of real affection?
Real affection cannot be brought into being artificially, you have to feel it; and your guardian, your parents, your teachers must also feel it. Most people have no real affection; they are too concerned with their achievements, their longings, their knowledge, their success. They give to what they have done and want to do, such colossal importance that it ultimately destroys them.
That is why it is very important, while you are young, to help look after the rooms, or to care for a number of trees which you yourself have planted, or to go to the assistance of a sick friend, so that there is a subtle feeling of sympathy, of concern, of generosity - real generosity which is not just of the mind, and which makes you want to share with somebody whatever you may have, however little. If you do not have this feeling of love, of generosity, of kindness, of gentleness, while you are young, it will be very difficult to have it when you are older; but if you begin to have it now, then perhaps you can awaken it in others.
To have sympathy and affection implies freedom from fear, does it not? But you see, it is very difficult to grow up in this world without fear, without having some personal motive in action. The older people have never thought about this problem of fear, or they have thought about it only abstractly, without acting upon it in daily existence. You are still very young, you are watching, inquiring, learning, but if you do not see and understand what causes fear, you will become as they are. Like some hidden weed, fear will grow and spread and twist your mind. You should therefore be aware of everything that is happening around you and within yourself - how the teachers talk, how our parents behave, and how you respond - so that this question of fear is seen and understood.
Most grown-up people think that some kind of discipline is necessary. Do you know what discipline is? It is a process of making you do something which you do not want to do. Where there is discipline, there is fear; so discipline is not the way of love. That is why discipline at all costs should be avoided - discipline being coercion, resistance, compulsion, making you do something which you really do not understand, or persuading you to do it by offering you a reward. If you don't understand something, don't do it, and don't be compelled to do it. Ask for an explanation; don't just be obstinate, but try to find out the truth of the matter so that no fear is involved and your mind becomes very pliable, very supple.
When you do not understand and are merely compelled by the authority of grown-up people, you are suppressing your own mind, and then fear comes into being; and that fear pursues you like a shadow throughout life. That is why it is so important not to be disciplined according to any particular type of thought or pattern of action. But most older people can think only in those terms. They want to make you do something for your so-called good. This very process of making you do something for your own `good', destroys your sensitivity, your capacity to understand, and therefore your love. To refuse to be coerced or compelled is very difficult, because the world about us is so strong; but if we merely give in and do things without understanding, we fall into a habit of thoughtlessness, and then it becomes still more difficult for us to break away.
So, in your school, should you have authority, discipline? Or should you be encouraged by your teachers to discuss these questions, go into them, understand them so that, when you are grown up and go out into the world, you will be a mature human being who is capable of meeting intelligently the world's problems? You cannot have that deep intelligence if there is any kind of fear. Fear only makes you dull, it curbs your initiative, it destroys that flame which we call sympathy generosity, affection, love. So do not allow yourself to be disciplined into a pattern of action, but find out - which means that you must have the time to question, to inquire; and the teachers must also have the time; if there is no time, then time must be made. Fear is a source of corruption, it is the beginning of degeneration, and to be free of fear is more important than any examination or any scholastic degree.
Questioner: What is love in itself?
Krishnamurti: What is intrinsic love? Is that what you mean? What is love without motive, without incentive? Listen carefully and you will find out. We are examining the question, we are not looking for the answer. In studying mathematics, or in putting a question, most of you are more concerned with finding the answer than with understanding the problem. If you study the problem, look into it, examine it, understand it, you will find that the answer is in the problem. So let us understand what the problem is, and not look for an answer, either in the Bhagavad Gita, in the Koran, in the Bible, or from some professor or lecturer. If we can really understand the problem, the answer will come out of it; because the answer is in the problem, it is not separate from the problem.
The problem is: what is love without motive? Can there be love without any incentive, without wanting something for oneself out of love? Can there be love in which there is no sense of being wounded when love is not returned? If I offer you my friendship and you turn away, am I not hurt? Is that feeling of being hurt the outcome of friendship, of generosity, of sympathy? Surely, as long as I feel hurt, as long as there is fear, as long as I help you hoping that you may help me - which is called service - , there is no love.
If you understand this, the answer is there.
Questioner: What is religion?
Krishnamurti: Do you want an answer from me, or do you want to find out for yourself? Are you looking for an answer from somebody, however great or however stupid? Or are you really trying to find out the truth of what religion is?
To find out what true religion is, you have to push aside everything that stands in the way. If you have many coloured or dirty windows and you want to see the clear sunlight, you must clean or open the windows, or go outside. Similarly, to find out what true religion is, you must first see what it is not, and put that aside. Then you can find out, because then there is direct perception. So let us see what is not religion.
Doing puja, performing a ritual - is that religion? You repeat over and over again a certain ritual, a certain mantram in front of an altar or an idol. It may give you a sense of pleasure, a sense of satisfaction; but is that religion? putting on the sacred thread, calling yourself a Hindu a Buddhist, or a Christian, accepting certain traditions, dogmas, beliefs - has all this got anything to do with religion? Obviously not. So religion must be something which can be found only when the mind has understood and put all this aside.
Religion, in the true sense of the word, does not bring about separation, does it? But what happens when you are a Moslem and I am a Christian, or when I believe in something and you do not believe in it? Our beliefs separate us; therefore our beliefs have nothing to do with religion. Whether we believe in God or do not believe in God has very little significance; because what we believe or disbelieve is determined by our conditioning is it not? The society around us, the culture in which we are brought up, imprints upon the mind certain beliefs, fears and superstitions which we call religion; but they have nothing to do with religion. The fact that you believe in one way and I in another, largely depends on where we happen to have been born, whether in England, in India, in Russia or America. So belief is not religion, it is only the result of our conditioning.
Then there is the pursuit of personal salvation. I want to be safe; I want to reach Nirvana, or heaven; I must find a place next to Jesus, next to Buddha, or on the right hand of a particular God. Your belief does not give me deep satisfaction, comfort, so I have my own belief which does. And is that religion? Surely, one's mind must be free of all these things to find out what true religion is.
And is religion merely a matter of doing good, of serving or helping others? Or is it something more? Which does not mean that we must not be generous or kind. But is that all? Is not religion something much greater, much purer, vaster, more expansive than anything conceived by the mind?
So, to discover what is true religion, you must inquire deeply into all these thing; and be free of fear. It is like going out of a dark house into the sunshine. Then you will not ask what is true religion; you will know. There will be the direct experiencing of that which is true.
Questioner: If somebody is unhappy and wants to be happy, is that ambition?
Krishnamurti: When you are suffering, you want to be free of suffering. That is not ambition, is it? That is the natural instinct of every person. It is the natural instinct of us all not to have fear, not to have physical or emotional pain. But our life is such that we are constantly experiencing pain. I eat something which does not agree with me, and I have a tummyache. Somebody says something to me, and I feel hurt. I am prevented from doing something which I long to do, and I feel frustrated, miserable. I am unhappy because my father or my son is dead, and so on. Life is constantly acting upon me, whether I like it or not, and I am always getting hurt, frustrated, having painful reactions. So what I have to do is to understand this whole process. But you see, most of us rum away from it.
When you suffer inwardly, psychologically, what do you do? You look to somebody for consolation; you read a book, or turn on the radio, or go and do puja. These are all indications of your running away from suffering. If you run away from something, obviously you do not understand it. But if you look at your suffering, observe it from moment to moment, you begin to understand the problem involved in it, and this is not ambition. Ambition arises when you run away from your suffering, or when you cling to it, or when you fight it, or when around it you gradually build theories and hopes. The moment you run away from suffering, the thing to which you run becomes very important because you identify yourself with it. You identify yourself with your country, with your position, with your God, and this is a form of ambition.
Part One Chapter 13
What I am saying in all these talks is not something to be merely remembered. It is not intended that you should try to store in your mind what you hear, to be recollected and either thought about or acted upon later. If you merely store in your mind what I am telling you, it will be nothing but memory; it won't be a living thing, something which you really understand. It is understanding that matters, not recollection. I hope you see the difference between the two. Understanding is immediate, direct, it is something which you experience intensely. But if you merely remember what you have heard, it will only serve as a pattern, a guide to be followed, a slogan to be repeated, an idea to be imitated, an ideal on which to base your life. Understanding is not a matter of remembrance. It is a continuous intensity, a constant discovery.
So, if you merely remember what I am talking about, you will compare and try to modify your action or adjust it to what you remember. But if you really understand, that very understanding brings about action, and then you do not have to act according to your remembrance. That is why it is very important not just to remember, but to listen and understand immediately.
When you remember certain words, certain phrases, or recall certain feelings that are awakened here, and compare your action with what you remember, there is always a gap between your action and what is remembered. But if you really understand, there is no copying. Anyone with a certain capacity can remember words and pass examinations; but if you begin to understand all that is involved in what you see, in what you hear, in what you feel, that very understanding brings about an action which you do not have to guide shape or control.
If you merely remember, you will always be comparing; and comparison breeds envy, on which our whole acquisitive society is based. Comparison will never bring about understanding. In understanding there is love, whereas
comparison is mere intellectualization; it is a mental process of imitating, following, and in which there is always the danger of the leader and the led. Do you see this?
In this world, the structure of society is based on the leader and the led, the example and the one who follows the example, the hero and the worshipper of the hero. If you go behind this process of leading and being led, you will find that when you follow another, there is no initiative. There is no freedom either for you or for the leader; because you create the leader, and the leader then controls you. As long as you are following an example of self-sacrifice, of greatness, of wisdom, of love, as long as you have an ideal to be remembered and copied there will inevitably be a gap, a division between the ideal and your action. A man who really sees the truth of this, has no ideal, no example; he is not following anybody. For him there is no guru, no Mahatma, no heroic leader. He is constantly understanding what lies within himself and what he hears from others, whether it be from his father or mother, from a teacher, or from a person like myself who occasionally comes into his life.
If you are now listening and understanding, then you are not following or imitating; therefore there is no fear, and so there is love. It is very important to see all this very clearly for yourself, so that you are not bewitched by heroes or mesmerized by examples, ideals. Examples, heroes, ideals have to be remembered and are easily forgotten; therefore you have to have a constant reminder in the form of a picture, an idol, a slogan. In following an ideal, an example, you are merely remembering; and in remembrance there is no understanding. You are comparing what you are with what you want to be, and that very comparison breeds authority; it breeds envy and fear, in which there is no love.
Please listen to all this very carefully and understand it, so that you have no leaders to follow, no examples, no ideals to imitate or copy; for then you are a free individual with human dignity. You cannot be free if you are everlastingly comparing yourself with the ideal, with what you should be. To understand what you actually are - however ugly or beautiful, or however frightened you may be - is not a matter of remembrance, the mere recollection of an ideal. You have to watch, to be aware of yourself from moment to moment in daily relationship. To be conscious of what you actually are, is the process of understanding.
If you really understand what I am talking about, listen to it completely, you will be free of all the utterly false things that past generations have created. You will not be burdened with imitation, the mere recollection of an ideal, which only cripples the mind and heart, breeding fear and envy. Unconsciously you may be listening to all this very deeply. I hope you are; for then you will see what an extraordinary transformation comes with deep listening and freedom from imitation.
Questioner: Is beauty subjective or objective?
Krishnamurti: You see something beautiful, the river from the veranda; or you see a child in tatters, crying. If you are not sensitive, if you are not aware of everything around you, then you just pass by and that incident is of very little value. A woman comes along carrying a burden on her head. Her clothes are dirty; she is hungry and tired. Are you aware of the beauty of her walk, or sensitive to her physical state? Do you see the colour of her sari, however soiled it may be? There are these objective influences all about you; and if you have no sensitivity, you will never appreciate them, will you?
To be sensitive is to be aware not only of the things which are called beautiful, but also of that which is called ugly. The river, the green fields, the trees in the distance, the clouds of an evening - these things we call beautiful. The dirty, half-starved villagers, the people who live in squalor, or who have very little capacity for thought, very little feeling - all this we call ugly. Now, if you observe you will see that what most of us do is to cling to the beautiful and shut out the ugly. But is it not important to be sensitive to what is called ugliness as well as to beauty? It is the lack of this sensitivity that causes us to divide life into the ugly and the beautiful. But if we are Open, receptive, sensitive to the ugly as well as to the beautiful, then we shall see that they are both full of meaning, and this perception gives enrichment to life.
So, is beauty subjective or objective? If you were blind, if you were deaf and could not hear any music, would you be without beauty? Or is beauty something inward? You may not see with your eyes, you may not hear with your ears; but if there is the experiencing of this state of being really open, sensitive to everything, if you are deeply aware of all that is happening inside you, of every thought, of every feeling - is there not beauty also in that? But you see, we think beauty is something outside of us. That is why we buy pictures and hang them on the wall. We want to possess beautiful saris, suits, turbans, we want to surround ourselves with beautiful things; for we are afraid that without an objective reminder we shall lose something inwardly. But can you divide life, the whole process of existence, into the subjective and the objective? Is it not an unitary process? Without the outer there is not the inner; without the inner there is not the outer.
Questioner: Why do the strong suppress the weak?
Krishnamurti: Do you suppress the weak? Let us find out. In an argument, or in matters of physical strength, don't you push away your younger brother, the one smaller than yourself? Why? Because you want to assert yourself. You want to show your strength, you want to show how much better or more powerful you are, so you dominate, you push the little child away; you throw your weight around. It is the same with the older people. They are bigger than you are, they know a little more from reading books, they have position, money, authority, so they suppress, they push you aside; and you accept being pushed aside; and then you in your turn suppress somebody below you. Each one wants to assert himself, to dominate, to show that he has power over others. Most of us do not want to be as nothing. We want to be somebodies; and the showing of power over others gives us that satisfaction the feeling that we are somebodies.
Questioner: Is that why the bigger fish swallow the smaller fish?
Krishnamurti: In the animal world it may perhaps be natural for the big fish to live on the small fish. It is something we cannot alter. But the big human being need not live on the little human being. If we know how to use our intelligence, we can stop living on each other, not only physically but also in the psychological sense. To see this problem and understand it, which is to have intelligence, is to stop living on another. But most of us want to live on another, so we take advantage of somebody who is weaker than ourselves. Freedom does not mean being free to do anything you like. There can be real freedom only when there is intelligence; and intelligence comes through the understanding of relationship - the relationship between you and me, and between each one of us and somebody else.
Questioner: Is it true that scientific discoveries make our lives easier to live?
Krishnamurti: Have they not made your life easier? You have electricity, have you not? You snap a switch and you have light. There is a telephone in that room, and you can talk, if you wish, to a friend in Bombay or New York. Is that not easy? Or you can take a plane and go very quickly to Delhi or to London. These things are all the outcome of scientific discoveries, and they have made life easier. Science has helped to cure diseases; but it has also given us the hydrogen-bomb which can kill thousands of human beings. So, as science is constantly discovering more and more, if we do not begin to use scientific knowledge with intelligence, with love, we are going to destroy ourselves.
Questioner: What is death?
Krishnamurti: What is death? This question from a little girl!
You have seen dead bodies being carried to the river; you have seen dead leaves, dead trees; you know that fruits wither and decay. The birds that are so full of life in the morning, chattering away, calling to each other, by evening may be dead. The person who is alive today may be struck down by disaster tomorrow. We see all this going on. Death is common to us all. We will all end that way. You may live for thirty, fifty, or eighty years, enjoying, suffering, being fearful; and at the end of it you are no more.
What is it that we call living, and what is it that we call death? It is really a complex problem and I do not know if you want to go into it. If we can find out, if we can understand what living is, then perhaps we shall understand what death is. When we lose someone whom we love, we feel bereft, lonely; therefore we say that death has nothing to do with living. We separate death from life. But is death separate from life? Is not living a process of dying?
For most of us, living means what? It means accumulating, choosing, suffering, laughing. And in the background, behind all the pleasure and pain, there is fear - the fear of coming to an end, the fear of what is going to happen tomorrow, the fear of being without name and fame, without property and position, all of which we want to continue. But death is inevitable; so we say, "What happens after death?"
Now, what is it that comes to an end in death? Is it life? What is life? Is life merely a process of breathing in air and expelling it? Eating, hating, loving, acquiring, possessing, comparing, being envious - this is what most of us know as life. For most of us life is suffering, a constant battle of pain and pleasure, hope and frustration. And can that not come to an end? Should we not die? In the autumn, with the coming of cold weather, the leaves fall from the trees, and reappear in the spring. Similarly, should we not die to everything of yesterday, to all our accumulations and hopes, to all the successes that we have gathered? Should we not die to all that and live again tomorrow, so that, like a new leaf, we are fresh, tender, sensitive? To a man who is constantly dying, there is no death. But the man who says, "I am somebody and I must continue" - to him there is always death and the burning ghat; and that man knows no love.
Part One Chapter 14
There are various factors involved in human disintegration, and various ways in which human beings disintegrate. To integrate is to bring together, to make complete. If you are integrated, your thoughts, feelings and actions are entirely one, moving in one direction; they are not in contradiction with each other. You are a whole human being, without conflict. That is what is implied by integration. To disintegrate is the opposite of that; it is to go to pieces, to tear asunder, to scatter that which has been put together. And there are many ways in which human beings disintegrate, go to pieces, destroy themselves. I think one of the major factors is the feeling of envy, which is so subtle that it is regarded, under different names, as being worth while, beneficial, a creditable element in human endeavour.
Do you know what envy is? It begins when you are still very small - you feel envious of a friend who looks better than you do, who has better things or a better position. You are jealous if another boy or girl surpasses you in class, has richer parents, or belongs to a more distinguished family. So, envy or jealousy begins at a very tender age, and it gradually takes the form of competition. You want to do something to distinguish yourself - get better marks be a better athlete than someone else; you want to outdo, to outshine others.
As you grow older, envy gets stronger and stronger. The poor envy the rich, and the rich envy the richer. There is the envy of those who have had experience and want more experience, and the envy of the writer who wants to write still better. The very desire to be better, to become something worth while, to have more of this or more of that, is acquisitiveness, the process of gathering, holding. If you observe you will notice that the instinct in most of us is to acquire, to get more and more saris, clothes, houses, property. If it is not that, then we want more experience, more knowledge; we want to feel that we know more than anyone else, that we have read much more than another. We want to be nearer than others to some big official high up in the government, or to feel that we are spiritually, inwardly more evolved than another. We want to be conscious that we are humble, that we are virtuous, that we can explain and others cannot.
So, the more we acquire, the greater is our disintegration. The more property, the more fame, the more experience, the more knowledge we gather, the swifter is our deterioration. From the desire to be or to acquire more, springs the universal disease of jealousy, envy. Have you not observed this in yourself, and in the older people around you? Have you not noticed how the teacher wants to be a professor, and the professor wants to be the principal? Or how your own father or mother wants more property, a bigger name?
In the struggle to acquire we become cruel. In acquisition there is no love. The acquisitive way of life is an endless battle with one's neighbour, with society, in which there is constant fear; but all this we justify, and we accept jealousy as inevitable. We think that we must be acquisitive - though we call it by a better sounding word. We call it evolution growth, development, progress, and we say it is essential.
You see, most of us are unconscious of all this; we are unaware that we are greedy, acquisitive, that our hearts are being eaten away by envy, that our minds are deteriorating. And when for a moment we do become aware of this, we justify it, or merely say it is wrong; or we try to run away from it in various ways.
Envy is a very difficult thing to uncover or discover in oneself, because the mind is the centre of envy. The mind itself is envious. The very structure of the mind is built on acquisition and envy. If you watch your own thoughts, observe the way you think, you will see that what we call thinking is generally a process of comparison: "I can explain better, I have greater knowledge, more wisdom". Thinking in terms of `the more' is the working of the acquisitive mind; it is its way of existence. If you do not think in terms of `the more', you will find it extremely difficult to think at all. The pursuit of `the more' is the comparative movement of thought, which creates time - time in which to become, to be somebody; it is the process of envy, of acquisition. Thinking comparatively, the mind says, "I am this, and someday I shall be that; "I am ugly, but I am going to be beautiful in the future". So acquisitiveness, envy, comparative thinking produce discontent, restlessness; and our reaction to that is to say we must be satisfied with our lot, we must be content with what we have. That is what the people say who are at the top of the ladder. Religions universally preach contentment.
Real contentment is not a reaction, it is not the opposite of acquisitiveness; it is something much vaster and far more significant. The man whose contentment is the opposite of acquisitiveness, of envy, is like a vegetable; inwardly he is a dead entity, as most people are. Most people are very quiet because inwardly they are dead; and they are inwardly dead because they have cultivated the opposite - the opposite of everything they actually are. Being envious, they say, "I must not be envious". You may deny the everlasting struggle of envy by wearing a loincloth and saying you are not going to acquire; but this very desire to be good to be non-acquisitive, which is the pursuit of the opposite, is still within the field of time; it is still part of the feeling of envy, because you still want to be something. Real contentment is not like that; it is something much more creative and profound. There is no contentment when you choose to be content; contentment does not come that way. Contentment comes when you understand what you actually are and do not pursue what you should be.
You think you will be content when you have achieved all that you want. You may want to be a governor, or a great saint, and you think you will have contentment by achieving that end. In other words, through the process of envy you hope to arrive at contentment. Through a wrong means you expect to achieve a right result. Contentment is not satisfaction. Contentment is something very vital; it is a state of creativeness in which there is the understanding of what actually is. If you begin to understand what you actually are from moment to moment, from day to day, you will find that out of this understanding there comes an extraordinary feeling of vastness, of limitless comprehension. That is, if you are greedy, what matters is to understand your greed and not try to become non-greedy; because the very desire to become non-greedy is still a form of greed.
Our religious structure, our ways of thinking, our social life, everything we do is based on acquisitiveness, on an envious outlook, and for centuries we have been brought up like that. We are so conditioned to it that we cannot think apart from `the better', `the more; therefore we make envy desirable. We do not call it envy, we call it by some euphemistic term; but if you go behind the word you will see that this extraordinary desire for `the more' is egocentric, self-enclosing. It is limiting thought.
The mind that is limited by envy, by the `me' by the acquisitive desire for things or for virtue, can never be a truly religious mind. The religious mind is not a comparative mind. The religious mind sees and understands the full significance of what is. That is why it is very important to understand yourself, which is to perceive the workings of your own mind: the motives, the intentions, the longings, the desires, the constant pressure of pursuance which creates envy, acquisitiveness and comparison. When all these have come to an end through the understanding of what is, only then will you know true religion, what God is.
Questioner: Is truth relative or absolute?
Krishnamurti: First of all, let us look through the words at the significance of the question. We want something absolute, don't we? The human craving is for something permanent, fixed, immovable, eternal, something that does not decay, that has no death - an idea, a feeling, a state that is everlasting, so that the mind can cling to it. We must understand this craving before we can understand the question and answer it rightly.
The human mind wants permanency in everything - in relationship, in property, in virtue. It wants something which cannot be destroyed. That is why we say God is permanent, or truth is absolute.
But what is truth? Is truth some extraordinary mystery, something far away, unimaginable, abstract? Or is truth something which you discover from moment to moment, from day to day? If it can be accumulated, gathered through experience, then it is not truth; for behind this gathering lies the same spirit of acquisitiveness. If it is something far away which can be found only through a system of meditation, or through the practice of denial and sacrifice, again it is not truth for that also is a process of acquisitiveness.
Truth is to be discovered and understood in every action, in every thought, in every feeling, however trivial or transient; it is to be observed at each moment of every day; it is to be listened to in what the husband and the wife say, in what the gardener says, in what your friends say, and in the process of your own thinking. Your thinking may be false, it may be conditioned, limited; and to discover that your thinking is conditioned, limited, is truth. That very discovery sets your mind free from limitation. If you discover that you are greedy - if you discover it, and are not just told by somebody else - that discovery is truth, and that truth has its own action upon your greed.
Truth is not something which you can gather, accumulate, store up and then rely on as a guide. That is only another form of possession. And it is very difficult for the mind not to acquire, not to store up. When you realize the significance of this, you will find out what an extraordinary thing truth is. Truth is timeless, but the moment you capture it - as when you say, "I have found truth, it is mine" - it is no longer truth.
So, whether truth is `absolute' or timeless depends on the mind. When the mind says, "I want the absolute, something which never decays, which knows no death", what it really wants is something permanent to cling to; so it creates the permanent. But in a mind that is aware of everything that is happening outwardly and within itself, and sees the truth of it - such a mind is timeless; and only such a mind can know that which is beyond names, beyond the permanent and the impermanent.
Questioner: What is external awareness?
Krishnamurti: Are you not aware that you are sitting in this hall? Are you not aware of the trees, of the sunshine? Are you not aware that the crow is cawing, the dog is barking? Do you not see the colour of the flowers, the movement of the leaves, the people walking by? That is external awareness. When you see the sunset, the stars at night, the moonlight on the water, all that is external awareness, is it not? And as you are externally aware, so also you can be inwardly aware of your thoughts and feelings, of your motives and urges, of your prejudices, envies, greed and pride. If you are really aware outwardly, the inward awareness also begins to awaken, and you become more and more conscious of your reaction to what people say, to what you read, and so on. The external reaction or response in your relationship with other people is the outcome of an inward state of wanting, of hope, of anxiety, fear. This outward and inward awareness is an unitary process which brings about a total integration of human understanding.
Questioner: What is real and eternal happiness?
Krishnamurti: When you are completely healthy, you are not conscious of your body, are you? It is only when there is disease, discomfort, pain, that you become conscious of it. When you are free to think completely, without resistance, there is no consciousness of thinking. It is only when there is friction, a blockage, a limitation, that you begin to be conscious of a thinker. Similarly, is happiness something of which you are aware? In the moment of joy, are you aware that you are joyous? It is only when you are unhappy that you want happiness; and then this question arises, "What is real and eternal happiness?"
You see how the mind plays tricks on itself. Because you are unhappy, miserable, in poor circumstances, and so on, you want something eternal, a permanent happiness. And is there such a thing? Instead of asking about permanent happiness, find out how to be free of the diseases which are gnawing at you and creating pain, both physical and psychological. When you are free, there is no problem, you don't ask whether there is eternal happiness or what that happiness is. It is a lazy, foolish man who, being in prison, wants to know what freedom is; and lazy, foolish people will tell him. To the man in prison, freedom is mere speculation. But if he gets out of that prison, he does not speculate about freedom: it is there.
So, is it not important, instead of asking what happiness is, to find out why we are unhappy? Why is the mind crippled? Why is it that our thoughts are limited, small, petty? If we can understand the limitation of thought, see the truth of it, in that discovery of the truth there is liberation.
Questioner: Why do people want things?
Krishnamurti: Don't you want food when you are hungry? Don't you want clothes and a house to shelter you? These are normal wants, are they not? Healthy people naturally recognize that they need certain things. It is only the diseased or unbalanced man who says, "I do not need food". It is a perverted mind that must either have many houses, or no house at all to live in.
Your body gets hungry because you are using energy, so it wants more food; that is normal. But if you say, "I must have the tastiest food, I must have only the food that my tongue takes pleasure in", then perversion begins. All of us - not only the rich, but everybody in the world - must have food, clothing and shelter; but if these physical necessities are limited, controlled and made available only to the few, then there is perversion; an unnatural process is set going. If you say, "I must accumulate, I must have everything for myself", you are depriving others of that which is essential for their daily needs.
You see, the problem is not simple, because we want other things besides what is essential for our daily needs. I may be satisfied with a little food, a few clothes and a small room to live in; but I want something else. I want to be a well-known person, I want position, power, prestige, I want to be nearest to God, I want my friends to think well of me, and so on. These inward wants pervert the outward interests of every human being. The problem is a little difficult because the inward desire to be the richest or most powerful man, the urge to be somebody, is dependent for its fulfilment on the possession of things, including food, clothing and shelter. I lean on these things in order to become inwardly rich; but as long as I am in this state of dependence, it is impossible for me to be inwardly rich, which is to be utterly simple inwardly.
Part One Chapter 15
Perhaps some of you are interested in what I have been saying about envy. I am not using the word `remember' because, as I have explained, merely to remember words or phrases makes the mind dull, lethargic, heavy, uncreative. It is very destructive merely to remember. What is important, especially while you are young, is to understand rather than to cultivate memory; because understanding frees the mind, it awakens the critical faculty of analysis. It enables you to see the significance of the fact and not just rationalize it. When you merely remember certain phrases, sentences or ideas about envy for example, that remembrance prevents you from looking at the fact of envy. But if you see and understand the envy which lurks behind the facade of good works, of philanthropy, of religion, and behind your own desire to be great to be saintly - if you really see and understand this for yourself, then you will discover what an extraordinary freedom there is from envy, from jealousy.
So it is really important to understand, because remembrance is a dead thing; and perhaps that is one of the major causes of human deterioration. We are very inclined to imitate, to copy, to follow ideals, heroes; and what happens? Gradually the flame of creativity is lost and only the picture, the symbol, the word remains, without anything behind it. WE are taught to memorize, and this is obviously not creative. There is no understanding in merely remembering things that you have reed in a books, or that you have been taught; and when throughout life memory alone is cultivated, real understanding is gradually destroyed.
Please listen carefully, because it is very important to understand this. It is understanding that is creative, not memory, not remembrance. Understanding is the liberating factor, not the things you have stored up in your mind. And understanding is not the future. The mere cultivation of memory brings about the idea of the future; but if you understand directly, that is, if you see something very clearly for yourself, then there is no problem. A problem exists only when you do not see clearly.
What is important, then, is not what you know, not the knowledge or the experience you have gathered, but to see things as they are and to understand them immediately, because comprehension is immediate, it is not in the future. When experience and knowledge take the place of understanding, the become deteriorating factors in life. For most of us, knowledge and experience are very important; but if you go behind the words and see the real significance of knowledge and experience, you will find that they become major factors in human deterioration. This does not mean that knowledge is not right about certain levels of our existence. It is right and necessary to know how to plant a tree and what kind of nourishment is should have, or how to feed the chickens, or how to raise a family properly, or how to build a bridge, and so on. THere is an enormous amount of scientific knowledge available, which can be used rightly. It is right, for example, that we should know how to build a dynamo or a motor. But when there no understanding, then knowledge, which is merely memory, becomes very destructive; and you will find that experience also becomes destructive, because experience strengthens the background of memory.
I wonder if you have noticed how many grown-up people think bureaucratically, as officials. If they are teachers, their thinking is limited to that function; they are not human beings pulsating with life. They know the rules of grammar, or mathematics, or a little history; and because their thinking is circumscribed by that memory, that experience, their knowledge is destroying them. Life is not a thing that you learn from somebody. Life is something that you listen to, that you understand from moment to moment without accumulating experience. After all, what have you got when you have accumulated experience? When you say, "I have had an enormous amount of experience", or "I know the meaning of the words", it is memory, is it not? You have had certain experiences, you have learned how to run an office, how to put up a building or a bridge, and according to that background you get further experience. You cultivate experience, which is memory; and with that memory you meet life.
Like the river, life is running, swift, volatile, never still; and when you meet life with the heavy burden of memory, naturally you are never in contact with life. You are meeting life with your own knowledge, experience, which only increases the burden of memory; so knowledge and experience gradually become destructive factors in life.
I hope you are understanding this very deeply, because what I am saying is very true; and if you understand it, you will use knowledge at its proper level. But if you do not understand and merely accumulate knowledge and experience as a means to get on in life, as a means to strengthen your position in the world, then knowledge and experience will become most destructive, they will destroy your initiative, your creativeness. Most of us are so burdened with authority, with what other people have said, with the Bhagavad Gita, with ideas, that our lives have become very dull. These are all memories, remembrances; they are not things that we have understood, they are not living. There is no new thing as long as we are burdened with memories; and life being everlastingly new, we cannot understand it. Therefore our living is very tedious; we become lethargic, we grow mentally and physically fat and ugly. It is very important to understand this. Simplicity is freedom of the mind from experience, from the burden of memory. We think that simplicity is a matter of having but few clothes and a begging bowl; we think that a simple life consists in possessing very little externally. That may be all right. But real simplicity is freedom from knowledge, freedom from remembering or accumulating experience. Have you not noticed the people who make a point of having very little and who think they are very simple? Have you not listened to them? Though they may have only a loincloth and a staff, they are full of ideals. Inwardly they are very complex, battling against themselves, struggling to follow their own projections, their own beliefs. Inwardly they are not simple; they are full of what they have gathered from books, full of ideals, dogmas, fears. Outwardly they may have only a staff and a few clothes. But real simplicity of life is to be inwardly empty, innocent, without the accumulation of knowledge, without beliefs, dogmas without the fear of authority; and that state of inward simplicity can come into being only when you really understand every experience from moment to moment. If you have understood an experience, then that experience is over, it leaves no residue. It is because we do not understand experience, because we remember the pleasure or the pain of it, that we are never inwardly simple. Those who are religiously inclined pursue the things that make for outward simplicity; but inwardly they are chaotic, confused, burdened with innumerable longings, desires, knowledge; they are frightened of living, of experiencing.
If you look at envy, you will see that it is a deep-rooted form of remembering which is a very destructive, a very deteriorating factor in our lives; and so likewise is experience. This does not mean that you must forget everyday facts, or avoid experience. You can't. But the man who is full of experience is not necessarily a wise man. The man who has an experience and just clings to that experience is not a wise man; he is like any schoolboy who reads and accumulates information from books. A wise man is innocent, free of experience; he is inwardly simple, though outwardly he may have all the things of the earth - or very little. Questioner: Does intelligence build character?
Krishnamurti: What do we mean by `character'? And what do we mean by `intelligence'? Every politician - whether the Delhi variety, or your own local tub-thumper - continually uses such words as `character', `ideal', `intelligence', `religion', `God'. We listen to these words with rapt attention, because they seem very important. Most of us live on words; and the more elaborate, the more exquisite the words, the more satisfied we feel. So, let us find out what we mean by `intelligence' and what we mean by `character'. Don't say I am not answering you definitely. To seek definitions, conclusions, is one of the tricks of the mind, and it means that you don't want to investigate and understand, you just want to follow words.
What is intelligence? If a man is frightened, anxious, envious, greedy, if his mind is copying, imitating, filled with other people's experiences and knowledge; if his thinking is limited, shaped by society, by environment - is such a man intelligent. He is not, is he? And can a man who is frightened, unintelligent, have character - character being something original, not the mere repeating of traditional do's and don'ts? Is character respectability?
Do you understand what that word `respectability' means? You are respectable when you are looked up to, respected by a majority of the people around you. And what do the majority of people respect - the people of the family, the people of the mass? They respect the things which they themselves want and which they have projected as a goal or an ideal; they respect that which they see to be in contrast with their own more lowly state. If you are rich and powerful, or have a big name politically, or have written successful books, you are respected by the majority. What you say may be utter nonsense, but when you talk, people listen because they regard you as a great man. And when you have thus won the respect of the many, the following of the multitude, it gives you a sense of respectability a feeling of having arrived. But the so-called sinner is nearer to God than the respectable man, because the respectable man is clothed in hypocrisy. Is character the outcome of imitation, of being controlled by the fear of what people will say or won't say? Is character the mere strengthening of one's own tendencies, prejudices? Is it an upholding of the tradition, whether of India, of Europe or America? That is generally called having character - being a strong person who supports the local tradition and so is respected by the many. But when you are prejudiced, imitative, bound by tradition, or when you are frightened, is there intelligence, is there character? Imitating, following, worshipping, having ideas - that way leads to respectability, but not to understanding. A man of ideals is respectable; but he will never be near God, he will never know what it is to love, because his ideals are a means of covering up his fear, his imitation, his loneliness.
So, without understanding yourself, without being aware of all that is operating in your own mind - how you think, whether you are copying, imitating, whether you are frightened, whether you are seeking power - , there cannot be intelligence. And it is intelligence that creates character, not hero worship or the pursuit of an ideal. The understanding of oneself, of one's own extraordinarily complicated self, is the beginning of intelligence, which reveals character.
Questioner: Why does a man feel disturbed when another person looks at him intently.
Krishnamurti: Do you feel nervous when someone looks at you? When a servant, a villager - someone whom you consider inferior - looks at you, you do not even know he is there, you just pass him by; you have no regard for him. But when your father, your mother, or your teacher looks at you, you feel somewhat anxious because they know more than you do, and they may find out things about you. Going a little higher, if a government official or some other prominent visitor takes notice of you, you are pleased, because you hope to get something from him, a job or some kind of reward. And if a man looks at you from whom you do not want anything, you are quite indifferent, are you not? So it is important to find out what is operating in your own mind when people look at you, because how you inwardly respond to a look or a smile means a great deal.
Unfortunately, most of us are utterly unaware of all these things. We never notice the beggar, or the villager carrying his heavy burden, or the flying parrot. We are so occupied with our own sorrows, longings, fears, with our pleasures and rituals that we are unaware of many significant things in life.
Questioner: Can we not cultivate understanding? When we constantly try to understand, does it not mean that we are practicing understanding?
Krishnamurti: Is understanding cultivable? Is it something to be practised as you practice tennis, or the piano, or singing, or dancing? You can read a book over and over again till you are thoroughly familiar with it. Is understanding like that, something to be learned through constant repetition, which is really the cultivation of memory? Is not understanding from moment to moment, and therefore something that cannot be practised?
When do you understand? What is the state of your mind and heart when there is understanding? When you hear me say something very true about jealousy - that jealousy is destructive, that envy is a major factor in the deterioration of human relationship - , how do you respond to it? Do you see the truth of it immediately? Or do you begin to think about jealousy, to talk about it, rationalize it, analyze it? Is understanding a process of either rationalization or slow analysis? Can understanding be cultivated as you cultivate your garden to produce fruits or flowers? Surely, to understand is to see the truth of something directly, without any barrier of words, prejudices or motives.
Questioner: Is the power of understanding the same in all persons?
Krishnamurti: Suppose something true is presented to you and you see the truth of it very quickly; your understanding is immediate because you have no barriers. You are not full of your own importance, you are eager to find out, so you perceive immediately. But I have many barriers, many prejudices. I am jealous torn by conflicts based upon envy, full of my own importance. I have accumulated many things in life, and I really do not want to see; therefore I do not see, I do not understand.
Questioner: Can't one remove the barriers slowly by constantly trying to understand?
Krishnamurti: No. I can remove the barriers, not by trying to understand, but only when I really feel the importance of not having barriers - which means that I must be willing to see the barriers. Suppose you and I hear someone say that envy is destructive. You listen and understand the significance, the truth of it, and you are free of that feeling of envy, of jealousy. But I do not want to see the truth of it, because if I did it would destroy my whole structure of life.
Questioner: I feel the necessity of removing the barriers.
Krishnamurti: Why do you feel that? Do you want to remove the barriers because of circumstances? Do you want to remove them because somebody has told you that you should? Surely, the barriers are removed only when you see for yourself that to have barriers of any kind creates a mind which is in a state of slow decay. And when do you see this? When you suffer? But does suffering necessarily awaken you to the importance of removing all barriers? Or does it, on the contrary, lead you to create more barriers?
You will find that all barriers drop away when you yourself are beginning to listen, to observe, to find out. There is no reason for removing the barriers; and the moment you bring in a reason, you are not removing them. The miracle, the greatest blessing is to give your own inward perception an opportunity to remove the barriers. But when you say that the barriers must be removed and then practice removing them, that is the work of the mind; and the mind cannot remove the barriers. You must see that no attempt on your part can remove them. Then the mind becomes very quiet, very still; and in this stillness you discover that which is true.
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