#krishnamurti — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #krishnamurti, aggregated by home.social.
-
Užuojauta yra aistra visiems. Ji gali atsirasti tik tada, kai yra meilės kvapas, meilės kokybė, kuri nėra troškimas, nėra malonumas ir nėra minties veikimas.
Meilė nėra kažkas, ką sukuria mintis, aplinka ar pojūčiai.
Meilė nėra emocija. Meilė nėra pojūtis.
Meilė reiškia meilę akmenims, meilę medžiams, meilę benamiui šuniui, meilę dangui, grožiui, saulėlydžiui, meilę savo artimui – meilę be viso to seksualinio jaudulio, su kuriuo šiandien ji yra tapatinama.
Meilė negali egzistuoti, kai esi ambicingas, kai sieki galios, padėties ar pinigų.
Kaip žmogus gali tave mylėti, jei visas jo protas sutelktas į siekį kažkuo tapti, į valdžią ir įtaką pasaulyje?
Jis gali su tavimi miegoti, gali susilaukti vaikų, tačiau tai nėra meilė.
Tai yra geismas su visa jo nešama kančia.
Ir be meilės negali būti užuojautos.
Kai yra užuojauta, atsiranda aiškumas – šviesa, kuri kyla iš užuojautos.
Tuomet kiekvienas veiksmas tampa aiškus, o iš to aiškumo gimsta meistriškumas: bendravimo meistriškumas, veikimo meistriškumas, klausymosi, mokymosi ir stebėjimo menas.
Meditacija yra to intelekto pabudimas, kuris gimsta iš užuojautos, aiškumo ir meistriškumo, kuriuo tas intelektas naudojasi.
Tas intelektas nėra asmeniškas, jo negalima ugdyti ar išsiugdyti. Jis atsiranda tik iš užuojautos ir aiškumo.
From Meeting Life
-
Compassion is passion for all. That can only take place when there is the perfume, the quality of love which is not desire, which is not pleasure, which is not the action of thought. Love is not a thing put together by thought, by environment, by sensation. Love is not emotion, love is not sensation. Love means the love of rocks, love of trees, love of a stray dog, love of the skies, the beauty, the sunset, love of your neighbour, love without all the sensation of sexuality with which it is identified now. Love cannot exist when you are ambitious, when you are seeking power, position, money. How can someone love you when their mind is concentrated on becoming something, on having power in the world? They can sleep with you, have children, but that is not love. That is lust, with all its misery. And without love, you cannot have compassion. When there is compassion, there is clarity, the light that comes from compassion. Every act is clear, and from that clarity comes skill, skill in communication, skill in action, skill in the art of listening, learning, observing. Meditation is the awakening of that intelligence born out of compassion, clarity and the skill that intelligence uses. That intelligence is nonpersonal, non-cultivable; it comes only out of compassion and clarity.
From Meeting Life
-
Compassion is passion for all. That can only take place when there is the perfume, the quality of love which is not desire, which is not pleasure, which is not the action of thought. Love is not a thing put together by thought, by environment, by sensation. Love is not emotion, love is not sensation. Love means the love of rocks, love of trees, love of a stray dog, love of the skies, the beauty, the sunset, love of your neighbour, love without all the sensation of sexuality with which it is identified now. Love cannot exist when you are ambitious, when you are seeking power, position, money. How can someone love you when their mind is concentrated on becoming something, on having power in the world? They can sleep with you, have children, but that is not love. That is lust, with all its misery. And without love, you cannot have compassion. When there is compassion, there is clarity, the light that comes from compassion. Every act is clear, and from that clarity comes skill, skill in communication, skill in action, skill in the art of listening, learning, observing. Meditation is the awakening of that intelligence born out of compassion, clarity and the skill that intelligence uses. That intelligence is nonpersonal, non-cultivable; it comes only out of compassion and clarity.
From Meeting Life
-
"I don’t mind what happens. That is the essence of inner freedom."
– Jiddu Krishnamurti
-
"I don’t mind what happens. That is the essence of inner freedom."
– Jiddu Krishnamurti
-
Kai yra kančia – trumpalaikė ar nuolatinė, kylanti iš nesibaigiančios priežasčių grandinės – pažvelkite į ją be stebėtojo. Jūs ir esate ta kančia; nėra taip, kad jūs būtumėte atskiras nuo jos. Visiškai pasilikite su ta kančia.
Tuomet, jei nueisite taip toli, jei būsite pasirengę ją stebėti taip atidžiai, pastebėsite, kad įvyksta kažkas visiškai kitokio – vidinis virsmas.
Tai reiškia, kad iš tos kančios gimsta didžiulė aistra.
Jei pats tai padarėte, jei tai ištyrėte ir patikrinote, jūs tai atrasite.
Tai nėra tikėjimo aistra, ne aistra kokiai nors idėjai ar reikalui, ne aistra kokiai nors kvailai išvadai.
Ji visiškai skiriasi nuo troškimo aistros.
Tai visai kitokios rūšies energija – ne mechaninis minties judėjimas.
Mes patiriame labai daug kančios tame, ką vadiname meile.
Meilė, kaip ją dabar suprantame, yra malonumas – seksualinis malonumas, meilė tėvynei, meilė idėjai ir taip toliau. Visa tai kyla iš malonumo.
Ir kai tas malonumas atimamas, atsiranda neapykanta, priešiškumas arba smurtas.
Ar gali egzistuoti meilė – ne tik asmeninis jausmas tarp tavęs ir manęs ar tarp tavęs ir kito žmogaus, bet milžiniškas užuojautos jausmas – aistra viskam ir visiems?
Aistra gamtai. Užuojauta Žemei, kurioje gyvename, kad jos nenaikintume, nenaikintume gyvūnų ir visos gyvybės.
Be meilės, kuri yra užuojauta, kančia turi tęstis.
From Truth and Actuality
#Krishnamurti
#Meditation
#phylosophy
#mind
#day205
#lt
#climatechange
#Planet
#environment
#science -
When there is suffering, either momentary or a continuous, endless series of causes that bring about suffering, look at it without the observer. You are that suffering; it is not that you are separate from suffering. Totally remain with that suffering. Then you will notice, if you go that far, if you are willing to observe so closely, that something totally different takes place: a mutation. That is, out of that suffering comes great passion. If you have done it, tested it out, you will find it. It is not the passion of belief, passion for a cause, passion for some idiotic conclusion. It is totally different from the passion of desire. It is something which is of a totally different kind of energy, not the movement of thought, which is mechanical. We have a great deal of suffering in what is called love. Love, as we know it now, is pleasure, sexual, the love of a country, the love of an idea, and so on – all derived from pleasure. And when that pleasure is denied, there is either hatred, antagonism or violence. Can there be love, not just something personal between you and me or somebody else, but the enormous feeling of compassion – passion for everything, for everybody? Passion for nature, compassion for the earth on which we live, so that we don’t destroy the earth, the animals, the whole thing. Without love, which is compassion, suffering must continue.
From Truth and Actuality
-
When there is suffering, either momentary or a continuous, endless series of causes that bring about suffering, look at it without the observer. You are that suffering; it is not that you are separate from suffering. Totally remain with that suffering. Then you will notice, if you go that far, if you are willing to observe so closely, that something totally different takes place: a mutation. That is, out of that suffering comes great passion. If you have done it, tested it out, you will find it. It is not the passion of belief, passion for a cause, passion for some idiotic conclusion. It is totally different from the passion of desire. It is something which is of a totally different kind of energy, not the movement of thought, which is mechanical. We have a great deal of suffering in what is called love. Love, as we know it now, is pleasure, sexual, the love of a country, the love of an idea, and so on – all derived from pleasure. And when that pleasure is denied, there is either hatred, antagonism or violence. Can there be love, not just something personal between you and me or somebody else, but the enormous feeling of compassion – passion for everything, for everybody? Passion for nature, compassion for the earth on which we live, so that we don’t destroy the earth, the animals, the whole thing. Without love, which is compassion, suffering must continue.
From Truth and Actuality
-
Kur tik mintis sukuria malonumo vaizdinį, ten neišvengiamai atsiranda geismas, o ne laisva aistra. Jei pagrindinė varomoji jėga yra malonumas, tuomet tai yra geismas. Kai seksualinis jausmas kyla iš malonumo, tai yra geismas. Jei jis kyla iš meilės, tai nėra geismas, nors kartu gali būti ir didžiulis džiaugsmas.
Čia turime būti labai aiškūs ir patys išsiaiškinti, ar meilė neįtraukia malonumo ir džiaugsmo.
Kai pamatai debesį ir džiaugiesi jo didybe bei ant jo krintančia šviesa, žinoma, yra malonumas. Tačiau ten yra daug daugiau nei vien malonumas.
Mes to visiškai nesmerkiame.
Bet jei mintimis nuolat grįžti prie to debesies arba ieškai jame pakartotinio sužadinimo, tuomet pasineri į vaizduotės žaismą. Tokiu atveju malonumas ir mintis tampa tave skatinančiomis jėgomis.
Kai pirmą kartą pažvelgei į tą debesį ir pamatei jo grožį, jokio malonumo siekio dar nebuvo.
Sekso grožis slypi tame, kad jame trumpam išnyksta „aš“, ego. Tačiau mintis apie seksą yra šio ego patvirtinimas, o tai jau yra malonumas.
Šis ego nuolat siekia malonumo arba vengia skausmo, trokšta pasitenkinimo ir taip pats kviečiasi nusivylimą.
Visa tai reiškia, kad aistros jausmą palaiko ir tęsia mintis. Todėl tai jau nebėra aistra – tai tampa malonumu.
Viltis ir prisimenamos aistros siekimas yra malonumas.
From The Urgency of Change
-
Wherever thought builds up the image of pleasure, it must inevitably be lust and not the freedom of passion. If pleasure is the main drive, then it is lust. When sexual feeling is born out of pleasure, it is lust. If it is born out of love it is not lust, even though great delight may then be present. Here we must be clear and find out for ourselves whether love excludes pleasure and enjoyment. When you see a cloud and delight in its vastness and the light on it, there is of course pleasure, but there is a great deal more than pleasure. We are not condemning this at all. If you keep returning to the cloud in thought, or for stimulation, then you are indulging in an imaginative flight of fancy, and here pleasure and thought are the incentives operating. When you first looked at that cloud and saw its beauty, there was no such incentive of pleasure operating. The beauty in sex is the absence of the ‘me’, the ego, but the thought of sex is the affirmation of this ego, and that is pleasure. This ego is all the time either seeking pleasure or avoiding pain, wanting fulfilment, and thereby inviting frustration. In all this, the feeling of passion is sustained and pursued by thought, and therefore it is no longer passion but pleasure. The hope, the pursuit, of remembered passion is pleasure.
From The Urgency of Change
-
Wherever thought builds up the image of pleasure, it must inevitably be lust and not the freedom of passion. If pleasure is the main drive, then it is lust. When sexual feeling is born out of pleasure, it is lust. If it is born out of love it is not lust, even though great delight may then be present. Here we must be clear and find out for ourselves whether love excludes pleasure and enjoyment. When you see a cloud and delight in its vastness and the light on it, there is of course pleasure, but there is a great deal more than pleasure. We are not condemning this at all. If you keep returning to the cloud in thought, or for stimulation, then you are indulging in an imaginative flight of fancy, and here pleasure and thought are the incentives operating. When you first looked at that cloud and saw its beauty, there was no such incentive of pleasure operating. The beauty in sex is the absence of the ‘me’, the ego, but the thought of sex is the affirmation of this ego, and that is pleasure. This ego is all the time either seeking pleasure or avoiding pain, wanting fulfilment, and thereby inviting frustration. In all this, the feeling of passion is sustained and pursued by thought, and therefore it is no longer passion but pleasure. The hope, the pursuit, of remembered passion is pleasure.
From The Urgency of Change
-
Seksas yra problema todėl, kad, regis, tame akte visiškai išnyksta „aš“. Tą akimirką esi laimingas, nes nebelieka savimonės, nebelieka „manęs“. Tu trokšti vis daugiau tokių akimirkų, vis daugiau to savęs išnykimo, kuriame yra visiška laimė – be praeities ir be ateities.
Tu sieki tos visiškos laimės per visišką susiliejimą ir vienovę, todėl natūralu, kad tai tampa nepaprastai svarbu.
Tai yra kažkas, kas suteikia man tyrą džiaugsmą, visišką savęs užmiršimą, ir aš noriu to vis daugiau.
Tačiau kodėl aš to noriu vis daugiau?
Todėl, kad visur kitur gyvenu konflikte.
Visur kitur – visuose egzistencijos lygmenyse – vyksta „aš“ stiprinimas. Ekonomiškai, socialiai, religiškai – visur nuolat stiprėja savimonė, o tai reiškia konfliktą.
Juk savimonė iškyla tik tada, kai yra konfliktas.
Pati savimonė savo prigimtimi yra konflikto rezultatas.
Todėl visur kitur mes gyvename konflikte.
Visuose mūsų santykiuose – su nuosavybe, su žmonėmis ir su idėjomis – yra konfliktas, skausmas, kova ir kančia.
Tačiau šiame viename veiksme visa tai trumpam visiškai išnyksta.
Natūralu, kad norisi to vis daugiau, nes tai suteikia laimę, o visa kita atneša kančią, sumaištį, konfliktą, painiavą, priešiškumą, karą ir griovimą.
Todėl seksualinis aktas tampa viską užgožiančiu ir svarbiausiu dalyku.
Taigi problema, žinoma, nėra seksas.
Problema yra tai, kaip išsilaisvinti iš „aš“.
From What Are You Doing With Your Life?
-
Sex is a problem because it would seem that in that act, there is a complete absence of the self. In that moment, you are happy because there is the cessation of self-consciousness, of the ‘me’. You desire more of it, more of the abnegation of the self in which there is complete happiness, without the past or the future. You demand that complete happiness through full fusion and integration, so naturally it becomes all-important. It is something that gives me unadulterated joy, complete self-forgetfulness, and I want more and more of it. Now, why do I want more of it? Because everywhere else I am in conflict. Everywhere else – at all the different levels of existence, there is the strengthening of the self. Economically, socially, religiously, there is the constant thickening of self-consciousness, which is conflict. After all, you are self-conscious only when there is conflict. Self-consciousness is, in its very nature, the result of conflict, so everywhere else we are in conflict. In all our relationships with property, with people and with ideas, there is conflict, pain, struggle and misery, but in this one act, there is complete cessation of all that. Naturally, you want more of it because it gives you happiness, while all the rest leads you to misery, turmoil, conflict, confusion, antagonism, war and destruction. Therefore, the sexual act becomes all-significant, all-important. So, the problem is not sex, surely, but how to be free from the self.
From What Are You Doing With Your Life?
-
Sex is a problem because it would seem that in that act, there is a complete absence of the self. In that moment, you are happy because there is the cessation of self-consciousness, of the ‘me’. You desire more of it, more of the abnegation of the self in which there is complete happiness, without the past or the future. You demand that complete happiness through full fusion and integration, so naturally it becomes all-important. It is something that gives me unadulterated joy, complete self-forgetfulness, and I want more and more of it. Now, why do I want more of it? Because everywhere else I am in conflict. Everywhere else – at all the different levels of existence, there is the strengthening of the self. Economically, socially, religiously, there is the constant thickening of self-consciousness, which is conflict. After all, you are self-conscious only when there is conflict. Self-consciousness is, in its very nature, the result of conflict, so everywhere else we are in conflict. In all our relationships with property, with people and with ideas, there is conflict, pain, struggle and misery, but in this one act, there is complete cessation of all that. Naturally, you want more of it because it gives you happiness, while all the rest leads you to misery, turmoil, conflict, confusion, antagonism, war and destruction. Therefore, the sexual act becomes all-significant, all-important. So, the problem is not sex, surely, but how to be free from the self.
From What Are You Doing With Your Life?
-
Mes susiejome meilę su seksu, ir kadangi seksas teikia malonumą, pavertėme jį kažkuo nepaprastu. Seksas tapo svarbiausiu dalyku gyvenime. Bandėme jame atrasti gilią prasmę, gilią tikrovę, didžiulės vienybės ir susiliejimo jausmą bei kitus transcendentinius dalykus.
Kodėl seksas mūsų gyvenime turi tokią didžiulę reikšmę?
Galbūt todėl, kad nieko daugiau neturime. Galbūt visose kitose gyvenimo srityse esame mechaniški.
Mumyse nėra nieko originalaus, nieko kūrybingo – ir žodis „kūrybingas“ čia nereiškia paveikslų tapymo, dainų kūrimo ar poezijos rašymo. Tai tik labai paviršutiniška dalis to, kas iš tikrųjų yra kūrybiškumo jausmas.
Kadangi dauguma mūsų gyvename tarsi iš antrų rankų – perimdami kitų idėjas, įsitikinimus ir gyvenimo būdus – seksas ir malonumas tampa nepaprastai svarbūs.
Todėl mes tai vadiname meile, o už šios kaukės darome pačius įvairiausius dalykus.
From The Awakening of Intelligence
-
We have associated love with sex, and because there is pleasure in it, we have made an extraordinary thing of it. Sex has become the most important thing in life. We have tried to find some deep meaning in it, a deep reality, a sense of great union, oneness, and other transcendental things. Why has sex such significance in our life? Probably we have nothing else; maybe in every other field we are mechanical. There is nothing original in ourselves, nothing creative – not ‘creative’ in the sense of producing paintings, songs and poems, that is a very superficial part of what is really a sense of creativeness. As we are more or less secondhand people, sex and pleasure have become extraordinarily important. That is why we call it love, and behind that mask we do all kinds of mischievous things.
From The Awakening of Intelligence
-
We have associated love with sex, and because there is pleasure in it, we have made an extraordinary thing of it. Sex has become the most important thing in life. We have tried to find some deep meaning in it, a deep reality, a sense of great union, oneness, and other transcendental things. Why has sex such significance in our life? Probably we have nothing else; maybe in every other field we are mechanical. There is nothing original in ourselves, nothing creative – not ‘creative’ in the sense of producing paintings, songs and poems, that is a very superficial part of what is really a sense of creativeness. As we are more or less secondhand people, sex and pleasure have become extraordinarily important. That is why we call it love, and behind that mask we do all kinds of mischievous things.
From The Awakening of Intelligence
-
Kas yra meilė? Ar tai malonumas? Ar tai troškimas? Ar tai seksas? Ar tai pavydas, savininkiškumas, dominavimas, priklausomybė? Ar tai yra meilė?
Jei esi priklausomas, tuomet esi įkalintas baimėje.
Jeigu esu priklausomas nuo savo žmonos todėl, kad ji man teikia malonumą – seksualinį ar kitokį – jeigu priklausau nuo jos dėl paguodos ar draugystės, tuomet ta priklausomybė gimdo baimę, pavydą, neapykantą, priešiškumą, savininkiškumą ir troškimą dominuoti.
Ar visa tai yra meilė?
Klauskite to. Gilinkitės į tai. Išsiaiškinkite patys.
Ir ar meilė yra tas malonumas, kuris susijęs su seksu?
Kodėl seksas tapo toks nepaprastai svarbus gyvenime? Kodėl šiuolaikiniame pasaulyje, kaip ir senovėje, mes pavertėme seksą tokiu milžiniškai svarbiu dalyku?
From Inward Revolution
-
What is love? Is it pleasure? Is it desire? Is it sex? Is it jealousy, possessiveness, domination, dependency? Is it? If you depend, then you are caught in fear. If I depend on my wife because she gives me pleasure, sexual or otherwise, if I depend on her for comfort, companionship, that dependency breeds fear, jealousy, hatred, antagonism, possessiveness, the desire to dominate. Is all that love? Question it, go into it, find out. And is love the pleasure that is associated with sex? Why has sex become so extraordinarily important in life? Why in the modern world, and also in the ancient world, have we made sex into such a colossal affair?
From Inward Revolution
-
Jei žmogus nori suprasti visą pavydo procesą, jis turi į jį įsigilinti labai giliai, o ne vien priimti ar atmesti pavydą, bandyti jam priešintis ar vietoj jo ugdyti kokią nors dorybę.
Kai dorybė yra ugdoma, ji jau nebėra dorybė. Žmogus, kuris stengiasi ugdyti gėrį, jau nustojo būti geras. Gėris yra visai kas kita.
Jeigu bandau išsivaduoti iš pavydo ugdydamas proto būseną, kurioje nėra pavydo, aš vis dar esu pavydus, nes pats siekis ugdyti nepavydžią būseną kyla iš pavydo.
Jeigu noriu visiškai išrauti jausmą, vadinamą pavydu, privalau suprasti visą šią problemą taip giliai, kad protas galėtų atsiskirti nuo visų žodžių, įskaitant ir patį žodį „pavydas“.
Ir jeigu tai įvyksta, ar tada dar yra pavydas?
Tačiau vien atsikratyti žodžio, kaip gudrios priemonės, kad nebūtum pavydus, dar nereiškia turėti visiškai tylų protą, kuriame nėra žodžio.
Tik protas, kuris yra visiškai tylus – be žodžio, be jokio judesio, be jokio vaizdinio, kuris nebeveikia iš centro, vadinamo visuomene, – tik toks protas yra laisvas nuo pavydo ir todėl gali veikti visiškai kitoje dimensijoje.
Man toks protas yra religinis protas.
From Collected Works, Vol. 10
-
If one would understand the whole process of envy, one must go into it very deeply and not merely accept or reject envy, or try to resist it or cultivate a virtue in its place. When virtue is cultivated, it is no longer virtue. One who tries to cultivate goodness has ceased to be good. Goodness is something entirely different. If I try to free myself from envy by cultivating a state of mind in which there is no envy, I am still envious, because the drive to cultivate a state of non-envy is based on envy. If I were to eradicate the feeling called envy, I must understand this whole problem, so that the mind can dissociate itself from all words, including that particular word ‘envy’. And if it does, is there envy? But merely getting rid of the word, as a clever trick in order not to be envious, does not bring about a mind that is completely still, without a word. Only the mind that is completely still, without a word, without a movement, without an image, that is no longer functioning from the centre which is society, only such a mind is free from envy, and can therefore function in a totally different dimension. To me, such a mind is a religious mind.
From Collected Works, Vol. 10
-
If one has gone so deeply in discovering for oneself, then the religious mind does exist, and it does not belong to any individual. It is the mind, it is the religious mind apart from all human endeavours, demands, individual urges, compulsions, and all the rest of it. We have been describing the totality of the mind, which may appear divided by the use of different words, but it is a total thing in which all this is contained. Therefore, such a religious mind can receive that which is not measurable by the brain. That thing is unnameable; no temple, no priest, no church, no dogma can hold it. To deny all that and live in this state is the true religious mind.
From Meeting Life
-
If one has gone so deeply in discovering for oneself, then the religious mind does exist, and it does not belong to any individual. It is the mind, it is the religious mind apart from all human endeavours, demands, individual urges, compulsions, and all the rest of it. We have been describing the totality of the mind, which may appear divided by the use of different words, but it is a total thing in which all this is contained. Therefore, such a religious mind can receive that which is not measurable by the brain. That thing is unnameable; no temple, no priest, no church, no dogma can hold it. To deny all that and live in this state is the true religious mind.
From Meeting Life
-
Jeigu žmogus taip giliai tyrinėjo ir atrado pats sau, tuomet religinis protas iš tiesų egzistuoja, ir jis nepriklauso jokiam individui. Tai yra tiesiog protas – religinis protas, nepriklausantis nuo visų žmogaus pastangų, troškimų, asmeninių paskatų, vidinių prievartų ir viso kito.
Mes aprašinėjome proto visumą. Dėl skirtingų vartojamų žodžių ji gali atrodyti suskaldyta, tačiau iš tikrųjų tai yra viena nedaloma visuma, kurioje visa tai telpa.
Todėl toks religinis protas gali priimti tai, ko smegenys negali išmatuoti.
Tai yra tai, ko neįmanoma įvardyti. Jokios šventyklos, jokie kunigai, jokia bažnyčia ar dogma negali to aprėpti.
Visa tai paneigti ir gyventi tokioje būsenoje – štai kas yra tikras religinis protas.
From Meeting Life
-
Tikras religinis protas nepriklauso jokiam kultui, jokiai grupei, jokiai religijai ar organizuotai bažnyčiai. Religinis protas nėra hinduisto, krikščionio, budisto ar musulmono protas.
Religinis protas nepriklauso jokiai grupei, kuri save vadina religine.
Religinis protas nėra tas, kuris lankosi bažnyčiose, šventyklose ar mečetėse. Jis taip pat nėra protas, kuris laikosi tam tikrų tikėjimų ar dogmų.
Religinis protas yra visiškai vienas.
Tai protas, kuris perprato bažnyčių, dogmų, tikėjimų ir tradicijų klaidingumą.
Nebūdamas nacionalistinis, nebūdamas sąlygotas savo aplinkos, toks protas neturi horizontų, neturi ribų. Jis yra sprogstantis naujumu, jaunas, gaivus ir nekaltas.
Nekaltas protas, jaunas protas, nepaprastai lankstus ir subtilus protas neturi jokio inkaro, prie kurio būtų pririštas.
Tik toks protas gali patirti tai, ką jūs vadinate Dievu, tai, kas yra neišmatuojama.
From Krishnamurti on Education
-
The true religious mind does not belong to any cult, any group, any religion, any organised church. The religious mind is not the Hindu mind, the Christian mind, the Buddhist mind or the Muslim mind. The religious mind does not belong to any group which calls itself religious. The religious mind is not the mind that goes to churches, temples, mosques. Nor is it a religious mind that holds to certain forms of beliefs and dogmas. The religious mind is completely alone. It is a mind that has seen through the falsity of churches, dogmas, beliefs and traditions. Not being nationalistic, not being conditioned by its environment, such a mind has no horizons, no limits; it is explosive, new, young, fresh, innocent. The innocent mind, the young mind, the mind that is extraordinarily pliable, subtle, has no anchor. It is only such a mind that can experience that which you call God, that which is not measurable.
From Krishnamurti on Education
-
The true religious mind does not belong to any cult, any group, any religion, any organised church. The religious mind is not the Hindu mind, the Christian mind, the Buddhist mind or the Muslim mind. The religious mind does not belong to any group which calls itself religious. The religious mind is not the mind that goes to churches, temples, mosques. Nor is it a religious mind that holds to certain forms of beliefs and dogmas. The religious mind is completely alone. It is a mind that has seen through the falsity of churches, dogmas, beliefs and traditions. Not being nationalistic, not being conditioned by its environment, such a mind has no horizons, no limits; it is explosive, new, young, fresh, innocent. The innocent mind, the young mind, the mind that is extraordinarily pliable, subtle, has no anchor. It is only such a mind that can experience that which you call God, that which is not measurable.
From Krishnamurti on Education
-
Religinis protas yra neprisirišęs, neįsipareigojęs jokiai pozicijai protas, nes tik toks protas gali atrasti, kas yra tiesa ir kas yra melas. Tik toks protas gali išsiaiškinti, ar egzistuoja tikrovė, Dievas, kažkas, kas yra anapus laiko. Tačiau to negali padaryti protas, kuris tiki arba netiki.
Akivaizdu, kad religinis protas nėra tas, kuris eina į šventyklą, atlieka pudžą ar užsiima įvairiais ritualais.
Religinis protas visiškai ir galutinai pamato viso to klaidingumą.
Todėl, būdamas laisvas ir neturėdamas jokios iš anksto paruoštos pozicijos, nuo kurios pradėtų tyrinėti, jis pradeda visą tyrinėjimą iš laisvės.
Toks protas yra nešališkas, objektyvus, sveikas, racionalus ir gebantis mąstyti logiškai – o tai, iš esmės, yra mokslinio proto savybės.
Tačiau mokslinis protas nėra religinis protas.
Mokslinis protas yra atsidavęs tam tikros egzistencijos dalies, tam tikro gyvenimo segmento tyrinėjimui. Todėl jis negali aprėpti visumos taip, kaip gali religinis protas.
Kad atsirastų toks religinis protas, būtina revoliucija – ne ekonominė ar socialinė, bet psichologinė revoliucija, revoliucija pačioje žmogaus sąmonėje ir pačiame mąstymo procese.
From Collected Works, Vol. 13
-
The religious mind is the non-committed mind, because only such a mind can discover what is true and what is false. It is only such a mind that can find out if there is or is not a reality, God, a timeless thing – but not the committed mind, not a mind that believes or does not believe. Obviously, the religious mind is not the mind that goes to the temple, that does puja and all kinds of tricks. The religious mind sees the falseness of all that totally, completely. Therefore, being free and not having a platform from which to proceed to inquire, it begins all inquiry from freedom. Such a mind is dispassionate, objective, sane, rational, capable of reasoning – which is, after all, the scientific mind. The scientific mind is not a religious mind. The scientific mind is committed to examining a certain part of existence, a segment of life, so the scientific mind cannot understand the totality which the religious mind can understand. To have such a religious mind, there must be a revolution – not economic or social, but a psychological revolution, a revolution in the psyche, in the very process of our thinking.
From Collected Works, Vol. 13
-
The religious mind is the non-committed mind, because only such a mind can discover what is true and what is false. It is only such a mind that can find out if there is or is not a reality, God, a timeless thing – but not the committed mind, not a mind that believes or does not believe. Obviously, the religious mind is not the mind that goes to the temple, that does puja and all kinds of tricks. The religious mind sees the falseness of all that totally, completely. Therefore, being free and not having a platform from which to proceed to inquire, it begins all inquiry from freedom. Such a mind is dispassionate, objective, sane, rational, capable of reasoning – which is, after all, the scientific mind. The scientific mind is not a religious mind. The scientific mind is committed to examining a certain part of existence, a segment of life, so the scientific mind cannot understand the totality which the religious mind can understand. To have such a religious mind, there must be a revolution – not economic or social, but a psychological revolution, a revolution in the psyche, in the very process of our thinking.
From Collected Works, Vol. 13
-
Tai buvo jaukus namelis kaime, su veja, kuri daugelį metų buvo kruopščiai pjaunama, voluojama ir ravima. Visa vieta buvo prižiūrėta, klestinti ir pilna džiaugsmo. Už namo buvo nedidelis daržas; tai buvo nuostabi vieta, šalia kurios tekėjo ramus upelis, beveik negirdimai čiurlenantis.
Durys atsivėrė ir buvo prilaikomos Budos statulos, pastumtos koja į vietą. Namelio šeimininkas visiškai nesuvokė, ką daro; jam tai buvo tik durų atrama. Susimąstei, ar jis taip pat pasielgtų su statula, kurią pats gerbia, nes jis buvo krikščionis.
Tu neigi kitų žmonių šventus dalykus, tačiau saugai savuosius. Kito žmogaus tikėjimai tau atrodo prietarai, o tavo paties – pagrįsti ir tikri.
Kas yra šventa?
Paplūdimyje jis buvo radęs jūros nugludintą medžio gabalą, primenantį žmogaus galvą. Jis buvo iš kietmedžio, suformuotas jūros vandens ir nuvalytas daugybės metų bei sezonų.
Jis parsivežė jį namo ir padėjo ant židinio lentynos. Kartkartėmis pažvelgdavo į jį ir grožėdavosi tuo, ką buvo sukūrusi jūra.
Vieną dieną jis padėjo šalia gėlių. Vėliau tai kartojosi kasdien. Jis pasijusdavo nejaukiai, jei nebūdavo šviežių gėlių. Pamažu tas medžio gabalas tapo labai svarbus jo gyvenime.
Jis neleisdavo niekam jo liesti, išskyrus save. Kiti galėjo jį išniekinti. Prieš liesdamas jį nusiplaudavo rankas.
Tas medžio gabalas tapo šventas ir sakralus. Jis vienintelis buvo jo vyriausiasis kunigas. Jis atstovavo jam. Tas daiktas pasakodavo jam apie dalykus, kurių jis pats niekada negalėtų pažinti.
Jo gyvenimas buvo tuo užpildytas, ir jis sakė esąs neapsakomai laimingas.
Kas yra šventa?
Ne tai, ką sukūrė protas, ranka ar jūra.
Simbolis niekada nėra tikrovė. Žodis „žolė“ nėra lauko žolė. Žodis „Dievas“ nėra Dievas.
Žodis niekada neapima visumos, kad ir koks gudrus būtų aprašymas.
Žodis „šventa“ pats savaime neturi reikšmės. Jis tampa šventas tik savo santykyje su kažkuo – tikru arba įsivaizduojamu.
Tai, kas tikra, nėra proto sukurti žodžiai. Tikrovės, tiesos, mintis negali paliesti.
Ten, kur yra stebėtojas, tiesos nėra.
Mąstytojas ir jo mintis turi baigtis, kad būtų tiesa.
Tuomet tai, kas yra, tampa šventa.
Ten, kur nėra meilės, nėra nieko švento. Meilė yra visuma, ir joje nėra jokio susiskaldymo.
From The Beauty of Life – Krishnamurti’s Journal
-
It was a nice cottage in the country, with a lawn that had been mown, rolled and weeded for many a year. The whole place was well looked after, prosperous and joyful. Behind the house was a small vegetable garden; it was a lovely place with a gentle stream running beside, making hardly a sound. The door opened and was held back by a statue of the Buddha, kicked into place. The owner was totally unaware of what he was doing; to him it was a doorstop. You wondered if he would do the same with a statue he revered, for he was a Christian. You deny the sacred things of another, but you keep your own. The beliefs of another are superstitions, but your own are reasonable and real. What is sacred? On the beach, he had picked up a piece of seawashed wood in the shape of a human head. It was made of hardwood, shaped by the waters of the sea, cleansed by many seasons. He had brought it home and put it on the mantelpiece; he looked at it from time to time and admired what the sea had done. One day, he put some flowers around it, and then it happened every day; he felt uncomfortable if there were not fresh flowers every day, and gradually that piece of shaped wood became very important in his life. He would allow no one to touch it except himself; they might desecrate it; he washed his hands before he touched it. It had become holy, sacred, and he alone was the high priest of it; he represented it; it told him of things he could never know by himself. His life was filled with it, and he was, he said, unspeakably happy. What is sacred? Not the things made by the mind or hand or by the sea. The symbol is never the real; the word ‘grass’ is not the grass of the field; the word ‘God’ is not God. The word never contains the whole, however cunning the description. The word ‘sacred’ has no meaning by itself; it becomes sacred only in its relationship to something, illusory or real. What is real is not the words of the mind; reality, truth, cannot be touched by thought. Where the perceiver is, truth is not. The thinker and his thought must come to an end for truth to be. Then that which is, is sacred. Where there is no love, there is nothing sacred. Love is whole, and in it there is no fragmentation.
From The Beauty of Life – Krishnamurti’s Journal
-
It was a nice cottage in the country, with a lawn that had been mown, rolled and weeded for many a year. The whole place was well looked after, prosperous and joyful. Behind the house was a small vegetable garden; it was a lovely place with a gentle stream running beside, making hardly a sound. The door opened and was held back by a statue of the Buddha, kicked into place. The owner was totally unaware of what he was doing; to him it was a doorstop. You wondered if he would do the same with a statue he revered, for he was a Christian. You deny the sacred things of another, but you keep your own. The beliefs of another are superstitions, but your own are reasonable and real. What is sacred? On the beach, he had picked up a piece of seawashed wood in the shape of a human head. It was made of hardwood, shaped by the waters of the sea, cleansed by many seasons. He had brought it home and put it on the mantelpiece; he looked at it from time to time and admired what the sea had done. One day, he put some flowers around it, and then it happened every day; he felt uncomfortable if there were not fresh flowers every day, and gradually that piece of shaped wood became very important in his life. He would allow no one to touch it except himself; they might desecrate it; he washed his hands before he touched it. It had become holy, sacred, and he alone was the high priest of it; he represented it; it told him of things he could never know by himself. His life was filled with it, and he was, he said, unspeakably happy. What is sacred? Not the things made by the mind or hand or by the sea. The symbol is never the real; the word ‘grass’ is not the grass of the field; the word ‘God’ is not God. The word never contains the whole, however cunning the description. The word ‘sacred’ has no meaning by itself; it becomes sacred only in its relationship to something, illusory or real. What is real is not the words of the mind; reality, truth, cannot be touched by thought. Where the perceiver is, truth is not. The thinker and his thought must come to an end for truth to be. Then that which is, is sacred. Where there is no love, there is nothing sacred. Love is whole, and in it there is no fragmentation.
From The Beauty of Life – Krishnamurti’s Journal
-
Kas yra šventa? Ar tai atvaizdas šventykloje, simbolis, žodis? Kur slypi šventumas? Ar tame medyje, ar toje moteryje, nešančioje sunkų nešulį?
Jūs suteikiate šventumo daiktams, kuriuos laikote šventais, vertingais ar prasmingais. Tačiau kokią vertę turi atvaizdas, išdrožtas ranka arba sukurtas minties?
Tuo tarpu ta moteris, tas medis, tas paukštis, visi gyvi dalykai, atrodo, jums turi tik laikiną ir menką reikšmę.
Jūs padalijate gyvenimą į tai, kas šventa, ir tai, kas nešventa; į tai, kas moralu, ir tai, kas amoralu.
Toks padalijimas gimdo kančią ir smurtą.
Arba viskas yra šventa, arba niekas nėra šventa.
Arba tai, ką sakote – jūsų žodžiai, mintys, giesmės – yra rimta ir tikra, arba visa tai tėra priemonė užburti protą, panardinti jį į tam tikrą susižavėjimą, kuris tampa iliuzija, ir todėl nėra rimta apskritai.
Yra kažkas šventa, tačiau tai nėra žodyje, nėra statuloje ar atvaizde, kurį sukūrė mintis.
From The Only Revolution
-
What is sacred? Is it the image in the temple, the symbol, the word? Where does sacredness lie? In that tree, or in that woman carrying a heavy load? You invest sacredness in things you consider holy, worthwhile, meaningful, but what value has the image, carved by the hand or by the mind? That woman, that tree, that bird, the living things, seem to have but a passing importance for you. You divide life into that which is sacred and that which is not, that which is immoral and that which is moral. This division begets misery and violence. Either everything is sacred, or nothing is sacred. Either what you say, your words, your thoughts, your chants are serious, or they are there to beguile the mind into some kind of enchantment, which becomes illusion, and therefore not serious at all. There is something sacred, but it is not in the word, not in the statue or the image that thought has built.
From The Only Revolution
-
What is sacred? Is it the image in the temple, the symbol, the word? Where does sacredness lie? In that tree, or in that woman carrying a heavy load? You invest sacredness in things you consider holy, worthwhile, meaningful, but what value has the image, carved by the hand or by the mind? That woman, that tree, that bird, the living things, seem to have but a passing importance for you. You divide life into that which is sacred and that which is not, that which is immoral and that which is moral. This division begets misery and violence. Either everything is sacred, or nothing is sacred. Either what you say, your words, your thoughts, your chants are serious, or they are there to beguile the mind into some kind of enchantment, which becomes illusion, and therefore not serious at all. There is something sacred, but it is not in the word, not in the statue or the image that thought has built.
From The Only Revolution
-
Kas iš tikrųjų yra šventa? Ar apskritai egzistuoja toks dalykas? Kas yra šventa, ir kas yra šventas veiksmas? Veiksmas juk ir yra gyvenimas.
Norėdami tai išsiaiškinti ne žodžiais, bet visa savo širdimi, protu ir visa savo esybe, nes suvokiate šio klausimo svarbą, turite atidėti į šalį žodį, vaizdinį, simbolį, teoriją ir žinias, kurias laikėte šventomis.
Visa tai turi būti visiškai ir galutinai palikta nuošalyje.
Galite akmenį paversti šventu ar sakraliu daiktu. Mintis gali bet ką paskelbti šventu ir sakraliu, tačiau nuo to tas dalykas nebūtinai tampa šventas.
Ar pati mintis yra šventa, kad ir kokia subtili, rafinuota, graži ar kilni ji būtų?
Ar ji nėra tik mechaninis procesas – reakcija į įvairias atminties, patirties ir žinių formas, todėl iš esmės mechaninis ir materialus reiškinys?
Galite ką nors vadinti šventu ar sakraliu. Žmogaus protas, turintis didžiulį troškimą atrasti kažką nepraeinamai gražaus, gali net pačią mintį pavadinti šventa.
Tačiau ar ji tokia yra?
Norint iš tikrųjų tai atrasti, ne tik protu, bet ir širdimi, reikia atmesti viską, ką mintis sukūrė kaip šventa: viską, ką ji sudėjo į knygas, viską, ką sukūrė žmogaus protas ar ranka.
Visa tai turi būti palikta nuošalyje, nes žmogus save apgaudinėja be galo.
Pati iliuzija tampa šventa, nes žmogus ją myli.
Mintis gali tai, kas negražu, paversti nepaprastai gražiu. Net tai, ką vadiname blogiu, ji gali paversti nuostabiu ir didingu dalyku.
Todėl, jei protas ir širdis nori atrasti, kas yra iš tiesų šventa ir kas yra iš tiesų šventas gyvenimo būdas, visa tai turi būti visiškai ir galutinai atmesta.
From Can the Mind Be Quiet?
-
What really is sacred? Is there such thing? What is sacred, and what is action that is sacred? Action being living. To find this out, not verbally but with your heart, with your mind, with your whole being, because you understand the significance of it, you must put aside the word, the image, the symbol, the theory, the knowledge that you have considered sacred. You must put aside all these completely and utterly. You can make a stone into a holy or sacred thing. Thought can make anything sacred and holy, but it is not necessarily then holy. Is thought in itself sacred, however subtle, however refined, however beautiful or noble it may be? Or is it merely a mechanical thing, a response to various forms of memories, experiences and knowledge, and therefore quite mechanistic and of matter? You can or may call something holy or sacred. The human mind, with its tremendous longing for something imperishably beautiful, may call thought itself holy. But is it? To really find out or come upon it with your heart, one must discard everything that thought has created as sacred, everything that it has put together in the form of a book, and everything it has made by the mind or by the hand. All that must be set aside because man deceives himself so endlessly. The very illusion becomes sacred because he loves the illusion. The ugly can be made most beautiful by thought. The very evil, if one can use that word, can be made the most marvellous thing. So if the mind and heart are to find what is the most sacred thing and the most sacred way of living, one must set aside all this utterly and completely.
From Can the Mind Be Quiet?
-
What really is sacred? Is there such thing? What is sacred, and what is action that is sacred? Action being living. To find this out, not verbally but with your heart, with your mind, with your whole being, because you understand the significance of it, you must put aside the word, the image, the symbol, the theory, the knowledge that you have considered sacred. You must put aside all these completely and utterly. You can make a stone into a holy or sacred thing. Thought can make anything sacred and holy, but it is not necessarily then holy. Is thought in itself sacred, however subtle, however refined, however beautiful or noble it may be? Or is it merely a mechanical thing, a response to various forms of memories, experiences and knowledge, and therefore quite mechanistic and of matter? You can or may call something holy or sacred. The human mind, with its tremendous longing for something imperishably beautiful, may call thought itself holy. But is it? To really find out or come upon it with your heart, one must discard everything that thought has created as sacred, everything that it has put together in the form of a book, and everything it has made by the mind or by the hand. All that must be set aside because man deceives himself so endlessly. The very illusion becomes sacred because he loves the illusion. The ugly can be made most beautiful by thought. The very evil, if one can use that word, can be made the most marvellous thing. So if the mind and heart are to find what is the most sacred thing and the most sacred way of living, one must set aside all this utterly and completely.
From Can the Mind Be Quiet?
-
Ar norite, kad jūsų tikėjimas būtų sustiprintas, ar norite iš tikrųjų pamatyti tikrovę – ne ją patirti, bet iš tikrųjų ją pamatyti protu ir širdimi, kurie yra itin budrūs ir aiškūs?
Tikėjimas yra viena, o matymas – visai kas kita.
Tikėjimas, kaip ir aklas pasitikėjimas, veda į tamsą. Jis nuveda jus į bažnyčią, į tamsias šventyklas ir į malonius ritualų pojūčius.
Tačiau tuo keliu nėra tikrovės; ten yra tik vaizduotė, tik įsivaizduojami papuošimai, kurie užpildo bažnyčią.
Jei nėra baimės, tikėjimas tampa nereikalingas. Tačiau jei laikotės įsikibę tikėjimo ir dogmų, baimė visada ras kelią veikti.
Tikėjimas nėra vien religinių mokymų dalykas. Jis atsiranda net ir tada, kai nepriklausote jokiai religijai.
Galite turėti savo asmeninį, išskirtinį tikėjimą, tačiau tai nėra aiškumo šviesa.
Aiškumas ateina ne iš tikėjimo, o iš tiesioginio matymo.
From The Only Revolution
-
Do you want your belief to be strengthened, or do you want actually to see reality – not experience it, but actually see it with a mind and heart that are highly attentive and clear? Belief is one thing, and seeing is another. Belief leads to darkness, as faith does. It leads you to the church, to the dark temples and the pleasurable sensations of rituals. Along that way, there is no reality; there is only fancy, the imaginative furnishings that fill the church. If you deny fear, belief is unnecessary, but if you cling to belief and dogma, fear has its way. Belief is not only according to religious sanctions; it comes into being though you may not belong to any religion. You may have your own individualistic, exclusive belief, but it is not the light of clarity.
From The Only Revolution
-
Do you want your belief to be strengthened, or do you want actually to see reality – not experience it, but actually see it with a mind and heart that are highly attentive and clear? Belief is one thing, and seeing is another. Belief leads to darkness, as faith does. It leads you to the church, to the dark temples and the pleasurable sensations of rituals. Along that way, there is no reality; there is only fancy, the imaginative furnishings that fill the church. If you deny fear, belief is unnecessary, but if you cling to belief and dogma, fear has its way. Belief is not only according to religious sanctions; it comes into being though you may not belong to any religion. You may have your own individualistic, exclusive belief, but it is not the light of clarity.
From The Only Revolution
-
Norėdamas išsiaiškinti, ar Dievas yra, ar jo nėra, turi nušluoti į šalį visą informaciją, kurią esi gavęs apie Dievą. Žmonės, kurie tau suteikė tą informaciją, galėjo klysti; todėl turi išsiaiškinti pats.
O kad galėtum išsiaiškinti pats, turi atsikratyti visų autoritetų ir suprasti visą autoriteto struktūrą bei prigimtį – ar tai būtų policijos autoritetas, valdžios autoritetas, guru autoritetas, ar tavo paties troškimų autoritetas. Visi jie turi savo vaidmenį.
Nesupratus viso to, vien tik ieškoti to, ką vadini Dievu, neturi jokios prasmės.
Dievas, jei toks yra, yra kažkas nepaprasto, ko negalima įsivaizduoti per tikėjimą ar įsitikinimus.
Tai turi atrasti pats.
Aš nesakau, ar Dievas yra, ar jo nėra.
Norėdamas tai išsiaiškinti, pirmiausia turi būti laisvas.
Londonas egzistuoja; tai faktas, fizinis faktas, kurį galima patikrinti ir ištirti, kaip kažką, ką galima pamatyti per mikroskopą.
Tu tiki Dievu todėl, kad buvai taip išauklėtas ir užaugintas tame tikėjime.
From Collected Works, Vol. 13
-
To find if there is God or if there is no God, you must wipe away all the information you have received about God. The people who have given you information might be mistaken; you will have to find out for yourself. And to find out for yourself, you must get rid of all authority, understand the whole structure and anatomy of authority, whether the authority of the police, the authority of the government, the authority of the guru, or the authority of your own desires; they all play a part. Without understanding all this, merely to seek what you call God has no meaning at all. God is something amazing, not to be imagined by some kind of belief. You have to find out. I do not say if there is or there is not. To find out, you must be free first. There is London; it is a fact, a physical fact, like that which can be examined by a microscope. You believe in God because you have been brought up in that belief.
From Collected Works, Vol. 13
-
To find if there is God or if there is no God, you must wipe away all the information you have received about God. The people who have given you information might be mistaken; you will have to find out for yourself. And to find out for yourself, you must get rid of all authority, understand the whole structure and anatomy of authority, whether the authority of the police, the authority of the government, the authority of the guru, or the authority of your own desires; they all play a part. Without understanding all this, merely to seek what you call God has no meaning at all. God is something amazing, not to be imagined by some kind of belief. You have to find out. I do not say if there is or there is not. To find out, you must be free first. There is London; it is a fact, a physical fact, like that which can be examined by a microscope. You believe in God because you have been brought up in that belief.
From Collected Works, Vol. 13
-
Human beings have sought something beyond the physical, beyond the everyday existence of pain, of sorrow and pleasure. They have sought something beyond, first in the clouds: the thunder was the voice of God. Then they worshipped trees, stones. Villagers far away from the ugly, beastly towns still worship stones, trees and small images. Man wants to find out if there is something sacred, and the priest comes along and says, ‘I will show you,’ just as a guru does. The Western priest has his rituals, his repetitions, his fancy dress and worship of his particular image. And you have your own images. Or you don’t believe in any of that; you say you are an atheist. But you and the speaker want to find out something that may be beyond time, beyond all thought, so we are together going to inquire, exercise our brains, our reason, our logic, to find out what religion is, what a religious life is, and whether it is possible to live a religious life in this modern world. So let us find out for ourselves what is really, truly a religious life. That can only be found out when we understand what religions actually are and put aside all that, not belonging to any religion, to any organisation, to any guru, to any so-called spiritual authority. There is no spiritual authority whatsoever; that is one of the crimes we have committed; we have invented a mediator between truth and ourselves. When you begin to inquire into what religion is, you are living a religious life – not at the end of it. In the very process of looking, watching, discussing, doubting, questioning, having no beliefs or faith, you are already leading a religious life.
From Meeting Life
-
Religion, as we generally know it, is a series of beliefs, dogmas, rituals, superstitions; it is the worship of idols, of charms and gurus, and we think all this will lead us to some ultimate goal. The ultimate goal is our own projection; it is what we want, what we think will make us happy, a guarantee of the deathless state. Caught in this desire for certainty, the mind creates a religion of dogmas, of priestcraft, of superstitions and idol worship, and there it stagnates. Is that religion? Is religion a matter of belief, a matter of accepting or having knowledge of other people’s experiences and assertions? Is religion merely the practice of morality? You know, it is comparatively easy to be moral – to do this and not to do that. You can just imitate a moral system. But behind such morality lurks the aggressive self, growing, expanding, dominating. And is that religion?
From Life Ahead
-
Do you know what religion is? It is not in the chant, it is not in the performance of puja or any other ritual, it is not in the worship of tin gods or stone images, it is not in the temples and churches, it is not in the reading of the Bible or the Gita, it is not in the repeating of a sacred name or in the following of some other superstition invented by men. None of this is religion. Religion is the feeling of goodness, that love which is like the river, living, moving everlastingly.
From Think on These Things
-
What is relationship? J. Krishnamurti Holds Forth
What is relationship? Until you resolve this, not according to some philosopher or psychologist, or analyst, or according to your belief or pleasure, but actually in your daily life; if you haven’t resolved this problem you are contributing to the corruption of the world. And relationship means a movement in action with another human being; because life is relationship and if you observe you will see that you are, through daily life, you are isolating yourself. This isolation is self-centred, this tremendous concern about oneself. Aren’t you concerned deeply about yourself? Whether you succeed, whether you fail, whether you are happy, unhappy, whether your desires are fulfilled, whether you have achieved enlightenment – God knows what else! And this isolation which is the self-centredness of yours and the self-centredness of another, how can there be a relationship between the two? If there is no relationship between the two and therefore inevitably there must be conflict. And our society is based on this principle of conflict, which means of having no relationship. You may sleep with another, hold hands with another, have a family, but you, self-centred, ambitious, greedy, pursuing your own fulfilment, must inevitably create a division between you and another. This is a fact. This is a psychological certainty. And a man who really is concerned to bring about a totally different kind of morality, behaviour, a social structure; until he understands and brings about right relationship with another, he is contributing to the brutality, to the violence, to the extraordinary things that are going on in this ugly, mad world. Right?
So we have this problem: having created an image, how to prevent the creation of further images and what to do with the past image that one has. You see the problem? Do you, sirs? No? Look, I have an image about you – I haven’t but suppose – I have an image about you, I have built it up through my interaction with you; there are those images in my mind, and I realise that to be really related with another there must be no image. Now, how am I to be free of those images? That’s one point. The second is, how am I not to create images at all in relationship, whatever you do? You understand the two? How am I not to create images whatever you do; whether you call me a fool, flatter me, steal things from me, insult me, hurt me – not to have an image. That is, how am I not to be hurt by you? Right? Let’s bring it down to that simple thing, because the hurt is the building of image, as flattery is also building of an image. From childhood we have been hurt. This hurt takes the form of competition; when you are being compared with another – that happens in schools and in families – the hurt has begun. Right? Society hurts us, parents hurt you, your friends hurt you, and war, that is physical, hurts you psychologically, inwardly. We are human beings who are terribly hurt. We may shed tears quietly by ourselves in our rooms, or because we are hurt we become violent, aggressive, self-protective, defensive and all the rest of it.
So how is a mind not to be hurt at all? There are two problems: having been hurt and never to be hurt again. If you can find out for yourself, not because somebody points it out, if you can find it out for yourself whether the mind, that is the total being, can never be hurt, then you will see that we have wiped away all the past images, past hurts. So the question is: how can the mind, your mind, never be hurt at all? Have you got the question? You tell me I am a fool, or you tell me I am a great man – which are both the same. And I listen to you; the one I like, the other I don’t like. Can I listen to you – please listen to this – can I listen to you when you call me a fool or a great man, with total attention, so that there is no reaction to your verbal statement? Can you listen to your wife, or to your friend, with total attention, when she or he calls you all kinds of things, or flatters you? In that total attention, in that choiceless awareness, there are no frontiers, there are no borders. It is only when there is a border, when there is a line that the mind gets hurt. When there is no border as the centre which is being hurt then there is no question of being hurt at all.
What is it that is being hurt? The image that you have about yourself, that image is getting hurt, isn’t it? When you call me a fool I have an image that I am not a fool. And I have this conclusion that I am not a fool and therefore when you call me that I get hurt, I get disturbed. That is – please listen to this – when there is no image as the ‘me’, which means the ‘me’, the self is not, because there is no image of me, then whatever you say, either pleasant or unpleasant is not a response, does not meet the response of being hurt. It is the centre as the ‘me’ that gets hurt. Now can the mind listen with tremendous attention, care, love, listen when you say something pleasant or unpleasant? What gets hurt is the resistance which you have. If you have no resistance there is no hurt. This is – please – this is terribly important in relationship. One has lived seventy years, or fifty years, or ten years. Things happen, incidents take place, uninvited occurrence takes place, and to have a mind that walks through all this without a single hurt: that is real innocency. The word ‘innocent’ means a mind that is not capable of being hurt. The real meaning of that word in the dictionary is a mind that is not capable of being hurt. And it will be hurt if there is an image as Krishnamurti, or Mr Smith, or Mr Y. That image puts a limit, a border, a line, which you cannot cross. The moment you cross I get hurt.
So in relationship to live a life, daily life, every moment of it, not just once a week, but every day, in relationship in which there is not a single image. If you can do this, really, not intellectually or verbally, or emotionally, actually do it, you will bring about a totally different kind of human being, and therefore a different kind of society. And such a relationship is love.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xewNA_77Dr8
#Images #Krishnamurti #Marriage #Relationships -
can take place only when knowledge has come to an end, and there is pure observation without any direction. That insight is not the result of constant examination, constant analysis day after day; it is a sudden cessation of all knowledge and seeing something directly. That insight brings about a fundamental change in the very brain cells that carry memory. When you have an insight into attachment, you go behind the word, you go behind your reactions of asserting and not asserting; you see, observe how the mind has built up this whole process of attachment. And you can only observe it when you don’t want to discard it. You can only observe when you see that the observer is that thing you are seeing. The observer has created the attachment and then disassociated himself from it and tries to change, control, shape, deny, alter, go beyond. Now, when you have an insight of that kind, out of that insight comes intelligence. This constant insight without a formula, without a conclusion that puts an end to that insight, is creative action. It is astonishingly beautiful and interesting how thought is absent when you have an insight. Thought cannot have an insight. It is only when the mind is not operating mechanically in the structure of thought that you have an insight.
From To Be Human
-
Our brains are damaged. For thousands of years, we have been hurt psychologically, inwardly, and that hurt is part of our brain cells, remembered hurts: the propaganda for two thousand years that I am a Christian, that I believe in Jesus Christ, which is a hurt; or I am a Buddhist, which is a hurt. So our brains are damaged. To heal that damage is to listen very carefully, to listen, and in the listening to have an insight into what is being said. Therefore, there is immediately a change in the brain cells. Therefore, there is no identification, complete and total.
From Reflections on the Self
-
Can the mind see, have an insight into, this whole business of conditioning, temperament, idiosyncrasy, how the mind is the result of the past, of evolution? Not tomorrow, but now, instantly, have insight into ourselves, and therefore that insight brings its own energy to transform ‘what is’. Insight has its own tremendous energy, which is not dependent on any stimuli, and therefore it transforms what is observed, which is attachment. Have you got that insight, and therefore that tremendous energy to actually change your attachment totally? So that the mind doesn’t derive its energy from attachment, from conflict, and all that, but has its own vital energy, independent of environment, of culture, of people? Come on! Then living means something quite different from the way we live now, which is in conflict.
From Facing a World in Crisis
-
Living with no control | Krishnamurti
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lXDW5lpfX08
#Attention #Concentration #Controller #Inattention #Krishnamurti #Meditation -
One is aware, if one has sufficiently examined oneself quite objectively, not with any kind of condemnation or judgement, if one has observed oneself, one realises one is conditioned, superficially or in great depth. And is it at all possible not only to be free of the deep conditioning, which may be the result of the family, the whole racial accumulation, the influences which have not been obvious but nevertheless have penetrated very deeply, whether the mind can ever be free of all that? That is one question. And if it is conditioned, can the mind uncondition itself totally? Or – this may be a relevant question – can the mind prevent itself, not through resistance, from being conditioned ever?
From The Awakening of Intelligence
-
If one observes that one is conditioned and says, ‘One cannot uncondition the mind,’ the problem ends. If you start out with a formula that one will never be unconditioned, all inquiry ceases; one has already resisted and answered the problem, and there it ends. Then one can only further decorate the conditioning. But if one goes into this fairly deeply and becomes aware of the whole problem, what is one to do? How does one respond if this is a very, very serious challenge, not something one just brushes aside? If it is something vital and tremendously important in one’s life, what is one’s response? If you have discovered this conditioning, what is the manner of your observation? Have you observed it for yourself, or has somebody told you about it? This is really quite an important question to answer. If you have been told about it and you say, ‘Yes, I am conditioned,’ then you are responding to a suggestion; it is not real, only a verbal concept which you have accepted, with which you agree. That is quite different from the discovery of it for yourself, for then it is tremendously vital, and you have the passion to find the way out of it.
From Beyond Violence
-
Language really doesn’t condition the brain; what does is the theory of the language, the abstraction of a certain feeling and the abstraction taking the form of an idea, a symbol, a person – not the actual person but a person imagined, or hoped for, or projected by thought. All those abstractions, ideas, conclusions, however strong, condition the brain. But the actual, like the table, never does. Take a word like ‘suffering’. That word has a different meaning for the Hindu and the Christian, but suffering, however described by words, is shared by all of us. Suffering is the fact, the actual. When we try to escape from it through a theory, or through an idealised person, or through a symbol, those forms of escape mould the brain. Suffering as a fact doesn’t, and this is important to realise. Like the word ‘attachment’: to see the word, to hold it as if in your hand and watch it, feel the depth of it, the whole content of it, the consequences of it, the fact that we are attached – the fact, not the word – that feeling doesn’t shape the brain, doesn’t put it into a mould, but the moment one moves away from it, that is, when thought moves away from the fact, that very movement away, movement of escape, is not only a time factor but the beginning of shaping the brain in a certain mould.
From Krishnamurti to Himself
