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Shivani_Thakur
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We are increasingly told by others what to think and
what to do about the issues in our lives and the world
around us. Krishnamurti counters this movement,
saying that what is essential is to find out for ourselves.
He rejects any authority of his own, and of gurus,
religions, psychologists, philosophers and politicians,
saying there is no teacher and no taught. Instead, he
suggests that we are as two friends, perhaps sitting in
a park or walking along a quiet lane, talking over the
deep problems of life amicably, frankly and easily.
This remarkably straightforward and simple approach is mirrored in the language Krishnamurti uses.
Despite talking about the most profound and serious
matters, he uses everyday words, refreshingly free
of jargon and rhetoric, to explore universal themes
that affect us all, such as fear, loneliness, education
and relationship. His approach might be considered
uncompromising, yet he speaks with genuine care for
humanity, punctuated with wise humour.
It can seem that Krishnamurti’s teachings are
intellectual and that we need to make an effort to
understand them cognitively. After all, this is how we
are generally taught to learn, by accumulating knowledge and experience. In discussions with people from
all walks of life, he rejects the intellectual responses
of thought and memory, looking for genuine replies
that deepen inquiry or meet him at ‘the same level,
with the same intensity, at the same time’. Only then,
he says, insight and new understanding are possible.
Of course, dialoguing with Krishnamurti is no longer
possible, so our challenge today is to engage in this
meeting at depth when reading or watching Krishnamurti, or listening to the unique body of work he left
behind, and use his words, and our relationships, as a
mirror:
He is acting as a mirror for you to look into. That
mirror is not an authority. It has no authority,
it’s just a mirror. And when you see it clearly,
understand what you see in that mirror, then
throw it away, break it up.
Krishnamurti’s teachings are unique in their scope,
depth and approach. Seeing the readiness in which we
create ideas and concepts, he often refused to define
or expound the fundamentals in life that he explored
so radically – freedom, compassion, love, religion,
creativity, to name a few – in positive terms, instead
approaching them negatively:
Actually, what is religion? To find out what religion is, we must negate what it is not. Then it is.
The same with love. Love is not hate, jealousy,
ambition or violence – so when you negate all
that, the other is, which is compassion. In the
same way, if you negate what is not religion,
you will find out what is true religion: what is
the truly religious mind.
What is this negation central to Krishnamurti’s
teachings? Is it definable without making it into an
idea or something to practise? It may be as simple as
seeing the false as the false and its dropping away.
This brings in the question of seeing, looking or
observing. It is clear that we operate from the past,
and indeed consist of the past, so in looking at the
world, our life or a problem, can we see afresh, free
of the past, without thought? This seeing without the
observer, and the realisation that the observer is the
thing observed, is fundamental to the possibility of
transformation. Indeed, the illusory division between
the observer and the observed may well be the very
division and conflict in ourselves and the world.
When one really understands, not verbally, not
intellectually but as an actuality, as something
true, then you will see that when the observer
is the observed, all conflict comes to an end,
and therefore our whole relationship with each
other undergoes a radical transformation.