Loss of true identity —> nothingness (avarana) —> Root Fear of not knowing oneself —> further

Conditioning (vikshepa) —> further conflict and a sense of self, the center of images/conditioning
→ suffering —> Understanding thinker is thought and how this understanding leads us to
understand that all that we can do is observe ⇒ Choiceless awareness —> insights → metaphysical
enquiry on witness → stabilisation and enquiry into pure consciousness

Some introduction:

As we delve deeper into Krishnamurti's teachings, we are encouraged to engage in this

inquiry into the nature of the self, to confront our suffering, and to discover the true meaning
of happiness. The journey is inward, and the transformation it promises is not only personal
but has the potential to reshape the world by awakening a new consciousness that
transcends the limitations of the self.

This transformation of consciousness does not come about through willful effort or the
practice of any system. It arises from the direct perception of 'what is.' Krishnamurti asserts
that the action which comes from this perception is entirely different from the action born out
of reaction to pleasure or pain. It is an action that is free from motive, free from the
psychological memory of yesterday's successes and failures.

The nature of the self is a complex tapestry of experiences, memories, fears, desires, and
conditioning that dictates our every action and reaction. To disentangle oneself from this web
is to begin to understand the root of suffering. In this understanding, there is a natural
withering away of the self's dominance. This is not a process of renunciation or suppression
but a gentle unveiling of the layers of the psyche through attentive observation.

In observing the self without the desire to change what is seen, we give space to a new kind
of intelligence that is not of thought. This intelligence operates in the field of awareness
where the mind is no longer bound by its own projections. It is here, in the silent observation
of the movements of the self, that a radical shift can occur.

As the self loses its grip, the mind discovers a space where happiness is not the opposite of
sorrow, but a state of being that encompasses all dualities. In this space, there is an
extraordinary sense of freedom and an unmistakable fragrance of the sacred.

Krishnamurti refers to this state as being a light to oneself. In this light, one acts with a sense
of wholeness, and life becomes an expression of that wholeness.

Krishnamurti invites us on a journey that begins with self-awareness and ends with
self-transcendence, where the demarcation between suffering and happiness dissolves into
the understanding of life as a singular, indivisible whole.

Thus, the second chapter of our exploration into Krishnamurti's teachings leaves us with a
profound question: Can we observe the self without the filters of our past, without the
anticipation of the future, and in doing so, awaken to the immediacy of life where true
happiness resides
The Process of the Self: Evil in Division
Krishnamurti delves into the intricacies of the self, defining it as the composite of ideas,
memories, conclusions, experiences, intentions, conscious efforts, competitions, and
accumulated unconscious memories that span across individual and collective identities.
This self, as he observes, is inherently evil—not in a moralistic sense but in its propensity to
divide and isolate. Even in its noblest actions, the self separates and encloses, fostering
division. Yet, Krishnamurti acknowledges those fleeting moments when the self is absent
and the purity of love manifests.
Dissolving the 'Me': The Pursuit of an Integrated Intelligence
The question arises: can the self be completely dissolved, or is such a notion fanciful?
Krishnamurti challenges us to consider whether there exists any means or entity, whether
material or spiritual, that can dissolve the self. Krishnamurti encourages a deep introspection
to determine if such an entity is merely another projection of the self, a form of escapism that
strengthens rather than dissolves the ego.
As he pushes us into a corner, forcing us to question our own foundations, Krishnamurti
suggests that true understanding of the self requires ceaseless vigilance and alertness. We
must watch the self without allowing it to slip back into comfort and familiarity. This earnest
desire to dissolve the self, however, must be free of the experience of the self, for any such
experience only serves to reinforce it.

The Mind and the Self

: A Unified Entity
Krishnamurti emphasizes the non-separation of the mind and the self. The mind, with its
ambitions and envies, is not distinct from the self that hopes to rise above these traits. To
understand that the mind and the self are one and the same is to realize that any effort the
mind makes to free itself from conditioning is still an action of the self. This insight leads to
the crucial question: If the mind itself is a product of conditioning, can it act in a way that is
free from the self?

Freedom from the Self: The Path to True Intelligence

Krishnamurti suggests that self-knowledge is the key to unlocking real intelligence, which is
the ability to respond to life from a place of freedom and not from the constraints of
conditioning. This self-knowledge is not about accumulating information about oneself but
about understanding the nature of the self in each moment. It is in this understanding that
the mind can act creatively, not from reactions based on the past but from a fresh,
unconditioned perspective.

The Beauty of the Self Forgotten

In conclusion, the first chapter of a book on Krishnamurti's teachings might reflect on the
beauty that arises when the self is forgotten. When the mind is free from the self, true beauty
emerges—not as an object of recognition or a moment of experience, but as a natural state
of being. This beauty is synonymous with love and creativity, which are not the products of
the self or its experiences, but manifestations of a mind unburdened by the self.
Chapter 1: The Nature of Self
Why is there suffering? What is happiness? How does identification give rise to the self?
These are essential questions that Krishnamurti explores in understanding the roots of
human conflict and confusion.
According to Krishnamurti, the self is composed of our ideas, memories, experiences,
intentions, endeavors, and the totality of our conscious and unconscious processes. It is the
center around which all of our activities revolve. The self divides life into the personal and
the collective, constantly pursuing its own fulfillment and aggrandizement.
In this process, the self brings about anxiety, fear, frustration, and misery, not only for oneself
but for others too. Even seemingly noble activities of the self, like pursuing virtue or
accumulating knowledge, only serve to strengthen it by creating further experiences that
reinforce its identity. There is no freedom for creative living and understanding when the self
dominates the mind.
The self exerts tremendous energy and cunning to sustain and expand itself. It projects
ideals of spiritual attainment, like identifying with something greater or finding a timeless
truth, which are subtle ways for the self to continue through new experiences. The mind
moves in a vicious circle, trapped in the projections and demands of the self.
Is it possible for the self to come to an end? Not partially but completely? Krishnamurti
suggests this requires seeing through the whole structure and movement of the self - how it
operates, influences, controls, and perpetuates itself. This demands tremendous alertness
without choice or condemnation.
When there is deep awareness of the self without identification, then the mind becomes
extraordinarily still. It no longer operates from the center of the self. There is no longer the
desire for the "more" - more knowledge, experience, status. In this stillness, creation comes
into being, unrecognized through the experiences of the self.
This creative state is love - a dimension beyond the recognitions and demands of the self.
Love brings freedom from the self. When there is love, self is not. This is the flowering of a
mind that is integrated and intelligent, beyond the fragmentation imposed by the self. An
individual living in this way brings a different quality into the world that can transform the
nature of human relationship and action. This is the essence of Krishnamurti's teachings on
the

The Ending of Identification

Krishnamurti points out that as long as there is identification with something beyond the self -
whether it’s a belief, virtue, experience or spiritual goal - it only serves to reinforce the self.
Identification implies recognizing and grasping something in terms of the self, thereby
feeding its continuity.
Is it possible to live without identification and attachment? This ending of identification is an
ending of the self. When the mind doesn't operate from a fixed point of identity, there is
freedom to see life as it is, without distortion. The personal biases, prejudices and demands
of the self no longer color perception.
Living without identification requires being choicelessly aware of the tendencies of the self to
identify and cling to certain experiences, relationships, ideals. There is a watching of how the
self gives life significance and meaning through identifying with fragments.
When the movement of identification is observed without judgment, the mind comes upon
that which has no location - the unnameable and immeasurable. This emptying of
identification and knowledge brings its own creative action, beyond the recognitions of the
self.
The mind that is free of identification is sensitive, highly intelligent and creative. Its action is
not self-centered but has a different dimension of compassion. Such a mind alone can
penetrate into the deeper questions of existence and bring about a psychological revolution.
The ending of identification is the beginning of meditation. In this there is bliss, truth and the
sacred come into being. The self separates but love unites.
continue

The Nature of Happiness

What is happiness and why is mankind so pursue of it? For most, happiness is equated with
pleasurable experiences which the self identifies with and holds on to. This search for
happiness through sensory and psychological gratification only leads to momentary
satisfaction along with inevitable frustration. It breeds a constant restlessness in the mind,
always demanding more in the way of possessions, success and emotional comforts.
True happiness is not an achievement or an identified state. It does not belong to the terrain
of the self. Happiness comes when there is excellence in what you are doing, when every
form of identification has ceased, when there is no demand for pleasure. It is a state of being
that arises when you are free from anxiety, fear and the terrible burden of becoming.
Happiness happens when you are open to life in its entirety - the joys along with the sorrows,
the good and the ugly. Most of us want only partial happiness, the parts we find acceptable
to the self. But life is a whole and when you are able to live life wholly without resistance, in
complete and intelligent acceptance, then you will know what it means to be happy.
Such happiness has no cause and no end. It cannot be cultivated or made your own. It is not
your happiness or my happiness. The self does not shape it or store it up. It comes into
being when the self is absent. In this there is blessedness. The mind is tranquil, full yet
empty. There is immense energy. The heart is not separate from the mind, nor is love
separate from intelligence. The words of Krishnamurti on happiness beautifully capture this:
“When there is no high hill of achievement, reaching to the skies, there is happiness, there is
joy.”
I will continue further exploring the key themes around self-knowledge and meditation in the
next chapters. Please let me know if you would like me to elaborate on any aspect in
particular as I develop this draft.

The false sense of individual and the genesis of conditioning:

Although the innate nature of awareness is limitless, happiness, eternal and hence secure.
Forgetting itself the innate nature of awareness has lost its natures of limitlessness,
happiness and eternal nature and started searching for these in the outside world. This
forgetting creates in the human an impulse of not knowing who they are and in this process
makes one feel themselves to be nothing, this feeling of nothingness further exacerbates
into fear of insecurity, loss of happiness and one starts to search for this lost security and
happiness in the outside world of themselves. This in itself is the root conflict. The
fundamental conflict in the life of a human where even thought one knows the external world
to be impermanent one starts to seach their innate happiness and security in the
impermament world outside.
The root conflict is often identified as the fundamental ignorance about our true nature,
known as 'avidya' or 'maya'. This ignorance makes us identify with our body, mind, and ego,
leading us to believe that we are separate individual entities, distinct from the universal
consciousness or Brahman. When we operate under this misconception, we create a
dichotomy between our perceived self and the world, which leads to the internal conflicts.

When we think we are separate selves, we develop attachments (raga) and aversions
(dvesha). Attachment towards that which provides us pleasure and aversion towards that
which causes pain. This keeps us in a perpetual cycle where we constantly want to
accumulate experiences and things that give us pleasure and avoid those which cause pain.
This further leads to fear of losing the things that give us pleasure and we keep
accumulating or being possessive of those things that give us pleasure. Believing that
happiness comes from these external things we go on an endless pursuit, which often
results in a sense of lack or dissatisfaction. So when they inevitably change, you feel
disappointed or frustrated leading to more unhappiness. Having rigid likes/dislikes,
prejudices, set notions about oneself/others/world blocks openness to see things as they
actually are. This causes conflict when reality doesn't match expectations.

The identification with body and mind and the fact that the body and mind are impermanent
further leads to the fear of mortality. This causes internal conflict where one starts to live in
denial of their mortal nature, causing anxiety and existential dread. Thoughts like "I'm getting
old," "I'm not attractive enough," "I'm a failure," etc which are cause of misery are due to
one’s identification with body/mind.

Identifying with thoughts and emotions as "I" or "mine," leads to feeling personally attacked
when a negative thought or emotion arises. One then wants to escape from these thoughts
and they try to control and ignore these thoughts by indulging in hedonistic pleasures.

Further we judge oneself as "good" or "bad" and this leads to guilt, shame, feelings of
inadequacy when one fails to live up to moral standards.

In this way we have seen how a fundamental error and the root conflict has led the man to
impose further conditioning on himself and perpetuate the same suffering in the world.

Summary:
1. Avidya (Ignorance): The root cause of all suffering is Avidya, the ignorance of our
true nature as non-dual and identical with Brahman. This ignorance veils the true
reality from our perception and makes us identify with the limited body-mind
complex.
2. False Identification: Due to Avidya, we falsely identify with the physical form and
mental faculties, assuming that we are the doer and the experiencer, separate from
the rest of existence.
3. Subject-Object Split: From this false identification arises the notion of an individual
self that is separate from the rest of the world. This creates a subject-object
dichotomy where the individual perceives objects, people, and events as external
and distinct from oneself.
 4. Likes/Dislikes and Attachments/Aversions: The subject-object split leads to
preferences and aversions, where certain things are desired (likes) and others are
rejected (dislikes). These preferences give rise to attachments and aversions, which
in turn cause suffering when not satisfied or when threatened.
5. Notions of "Mine" and "Yours": With attachment comes the idea of
possession—what is considered "mine" versus what is considered "yours." This
deepens the sense of separation and can lead to conflict, jealousy, and more
suffering.

Image/Self/self-centered/selfishness:

When Krishnamurti spoke about "images," he referred to the psychological structures or

constructs that individuals create based on their experiences, beliefs, and conditioning.
These images can pertain to oneself, others, or the world at large. They are the mental
representations that color our perceptions and responses to life's events.

According to Krishnamurti, the "self" is a product of these images—it is the ego or the
identity that one constructs through a lifetime of experiences, social conditioning, memories,
and the accumulation of knowledge. The self is not a static entity but a dynamic process of
continual image-making, which is fundamentally based on thought and memory.

Krishnamurti argued that the self is formed through a process of identification. People
identify with their nationality, race, religion, beliefs, personal experiences, and the various
roles they play in society (such as being a parent, a professional, a friend, etc.). Through this
process of identification, the individual creates a sense of self, which is essentially a
collection of images and attachments to those images.

This self, or ego, is related to images in the sense that it is composed of them. The images
are not only personal but also collective; they are shared by the culture, society, and groups
to which one belongs. These images influence how one thinks, feels, and behaves, often
leading to conflict both internally and with others. Individuals defend their images, which can
create barriers to understanding and relationship.

Krishnamurti suggested that to understand the true nature of the self and to live with clarity
and peace, one must be aware of these images and the process of image-making. By
observing the self without judgment or condemnation, one can begin to see the limitations of
the images and move beyond them. He emphasized the importance of self-awareness and
the inquiry into the workings of the mind, suggesting that freedom from the self and its
images could lead to a profound transformation of one's consciousness.

The ‘me’ with all the accumulations that it has gathered in this life, all the pain, the
loneliness, the despair, the tears, the laughter, the suffering that is the ‘me’ with all its words.
The summation of all this is ‘me’.
So this is our life; the ‘me’ that you cling to, to which you are attached. And the ending of that
is death. It is the fear of the known, and the fear of the unknown; the known is our life, and
we are afraid of that life, and the unknown is death of which we are also afraid.

Process of Image-Making:
He saw image-making as beginning in early childhood when the child starts naming,
labeling, and making mental representations about themselves, others, and the world they
inhabit.

This image-making is strongly influenced by the social environment - parents, teachers,

religious figures, cultural norms - that reward and punish certain images. The child starts
emulating the projected images to gain approval.

Gradually images build upon images. If the image of 'I am intelligent' gets rewarded, traits
get attached to support that image. The images gain authority, weight and permanence in
our psyche.

Self-images operate in pairs of opposites - intelligent vs stupid, beautiful vs ugly. We identify

with the positive images that get reinforced by society.

Over time, images become memories, residues, biases that often have little factual basis.
But they remain because any attack on an image causes psychological pain.

These images prevent direct perception of reality. We end up seeing the world not as it is,
but as we are conditioned to see based on our images and dispositions.

Ending the image-making process requires high alertness in observing how images operate
within our own mind and undoing the authority given to them. This takes deep psychological
insight.

Division and Conflict: Images, according to Krishnamurti, are a source of division and conflict
both within the individual and in relationships. They create a psychological barrier between
what is and what should be, leading to a state of constant conflict between reality and the
images we hold.

Defense Mechanisms: People often defend their images vigorously because these images
become synonymous with their sense of self. This defense can manifest as resistance to
new information, denial of facts, or aggression towards those who challenge our images.

Relationships and Images: In the context of relationships, Krishnamurti pointed out that our
interactions with others are often based on images. We relate not directly to the person as
they are, but to our image of that person. This can lead to misunderstandings and a lack of
true communication.

Freedom from Images: Krishnamurti emphasized the possibility and importance of being free
from the bondage of images. He suggested that this freedom comes from a deep awareness
and understanding of the process of thought and image-making. By observing how images
are formed and influence our lives without trying to change or judge them, we can begin to
see beyond them.

Story: Layla, a young girl, shows early talent in mathematics. Her teachers and parents
praise her, calling her a "gifted child." They reward her with attention and accolades,
reinforcing the image of her being exceptionally intelligent. As Layla grows up, she becomes
attached to this image and starts to fear challenges that might threaten it. When she
encounters difficult problems, she avoids them, fearing that failure would shatter her image
of intelligence. This image prevents her from exploring new areas where she might not
immediately excel, limiting her learning and growth.

Image-making process: Layla's self-image as "gifted" is built upon early rewards and praise.
Over time, it becomes a solidified aspect of her identity, leading to a resistance to
experiences that could contradict this image.

The Competitive Executive:

Story: Michael is an executive in a competitive industry. From early in his career, he formed
an image of himself as a cutthroat and aggressive businessman, an image applauded by his
corporate culture. He prides himself on always being in control and one step ahead of his
competitors. This image dictates his behavior and interactions, often causing strain in his
personal relationships. When his company faces a downturn and his leadership is
questioned, Michael's self-image is threatened, leading to stress and defensiveness. He
struggles to adapt to new collaborative leadership models, as these do not fit the image he
has long upheld.

Image-making process: Michael's image as a competitive executive is a product of his

corporate environment and its rewards for certain behaviors. It creates conflict when reality
doesn't match the image, and it affects his ability to perceive new ways of leading.

The "Perfect" Parent:

Story: Ayesha becomes a mother and, influenced by social media and her community,
creates an image of the "perfect" parent. She believes she must do everything right – from
organic home-cooked meals to elaborate birthday parties. The image is so ingrained that
when her child throws a tantrum in public, Ayesha feels it reflects poorly on her parenting.
She becomes anxious, fearing judgment from others who might see her as failing to live up
to the image. This anxiety prevents her from responding to her child's needs effectively, as
she is more concerned with preserving her image than addressing
continue

the underlying issues. Her relationship with her child becomes strained because she's
interacting with her own projections of what a parent should be, rather than engaging
authentically with her child's experiences.
Image-making process: Ayesha's image of the "perfect" parent is constructed from societal
expectations and the desire for social approval. This image becomes a source of stress and
creates a barrier to genuine connection with her child. When her self-image is at risk of being
tarnished, Ayesha's defensive reactions overshadow her ability to parent in the moment
based on the actual needs of the situation.

A young girl, Sara, is often praised by her parents and teachers for being very neat,
organized and top of her class academically. The image of herself as smart and meticulous
gets built up over time. She fiercely defends this image by always trying to get the best
grades, win prizes, and keep everything orderly. If a classmate questions her perfectionism,
she feels deeply hurt.

A boy named Rahul grows up in a family and culture where masculinity is equated with
physical strength and courage. As he grows up, Rahul starts building an image of himself as
a tough, macho man to gain acceptance from his father and peers. He projects
aggressiveness, refuses to show vulnerability, and takes unnecessary risks to reinforce his
self-image.

Maria's deeply religious parents raise her with rigid images of sin, virtue, heaven and hell.
Over time, Maria identifies with the religious image of being a noble, pious girl devoted to
God. She suppresses her natural feelings, curiosity and spontaneity to conform to this ideal
image. She judges herself and others by how well they fit this image of a perfect religious
girl. Any behavior seen as sinful causes her anxiety as it attacks her self-image.

In each case, self-images shape personality and behavior while causing inner conflict and
barriers in relationships. Awareness of this process is the first step outlined by Krishnamurti.

Ravi works in a highly competitive corporate environment. He is often praised by

management for his ruthless, result-oriented style. Over time, Ravi's self-image becomes
that of a tough, efficient go-getter who crushes the competition. He treats colleagues and
subordinates callously to prove this self-image. When a feedback survey reveals that people
see his behavior as bullying, Ravi feels outraged and denies the criticism to protect his
cherished self-image.

Laila grows up with popular culture and advertising bombarding her with images of ideal
feminine beauty - fair skin, tall and thin figure, designer clothes and brands. She internalizes
these images subconsciously as a standard she should live up to be admired, get male
attention and feel worthy as a young woman. She judges herself against these external
images constantly and suffers from low self-esteem when unable to match the ideals,
leading to eating disorders and depression.

Hurt:

Self-image as successful: An individual may have an image of themselves as highly

successful in their career. This image is built upon their achievements, feedback from others,
and societal standards of success. It affects how they view themselves and how they believe
others should perceive them. This can create pressure to maintain this image, leading to
stress or a fear of failure.

Image of a loved one: A person might hold an image of a family member as being nurturing
and infallible. This image can influence expectations and interactions with that family
member. If the loved one does something that contradicts this image, it can result in
disappointment, confusion, or even a sense of betrayal.

National or cultural image: One might hold an image of their country or culture as being
superior or exceptional in certain respects. This nationalistic or cultural image can impact
how they view people from other countries or cultures, potentially leading to prejudice or a
lack of understanding.

Image of an enemy: An individual may form an image of someone as an adversary due to

past conflicts or differences in beliefs or values. This image can lead to animosity, a lack of
communication, and an inability to find common ground or reconcile differences.

Spiritual or moral self-image: A person might see themselves as spiritually enlightened or

morally upright. This image influences their behavior and decisions and can also result in
judging others who do not meet the standards of this self-image.

Attachment to Identity: People create an image of themselves based on personal

experiences, culture, relationships, and various psychological influences. They become
attached to this image or identity, which is fragile and can easily be threatened by external
circumstances.

Expectations and Beliefs: Individuals have expectations about how they should be treated,
how others should behave, and how the world should operate. These expectations are often
unspoken and may not align with the complex, unpredictable nature of life and human
behavior.

Attachment to a Relationship: Sarah has been in a relationship with her partner for several
years and has built an image of a perfect future together. She sees this relationship as
central to her identity and happiness. When her partner decides to end the relationship,
Sarah feels a deep sense of hurt. According to Krishnamurti, this pain arises because
Sarah's image of the future, her expectations, and attachment to the relationship are
shattered. Her sense of self, which included her partner and their shared life, feels
threatened, leading to psychological suffering.

Professional Identity: John is a dedicated employee who prides himself on his work ethic and
expertise. He identifies strongly with his career and believes he is due for a promotion. When
a less experienced colleague is promoted instead, John feels deeply hurt and betrayed.
Krishnamurti would point out that John's sense of self is tied to his professional identity and
the recognition he receives at work. The promotion of his colleague challenges his beliefs
about his worth and the fairness of the workplace, causing him psychological pain.
Cultural Expectations: Maria grew up in a culture with rigid expectations about how life
should unfold, including milestones like marriage and having children by a certain age. As
she grows older without having met these milestones, she feels a sense of failure and
disappointment. Krishnamurti would say that Maria is hurt because her reality does not
match the cultural images and expectations she has internalized. Her psychological time is
also at play, as she dwells on the past and worries about the future, instead of living fully in
the present.

Friendship and Loyalty: Alex has a close friend whom he trusts implicitly. He shares personal
secrets with this friend, believing in the sanctity of their bond. When he discovers his friend
has shared these secrets with others, Alex is deeply hurt. From Krishnamurti's perspective,
Alex's pain comes from the disruption of the image he held of his friend and the expectations
of loyalty. The perceived betrayal challenges his sense of trust and the image of the
friendship he valued.

Suffering:
The self's continuous effort to maintain and enhance its identity results in fear, attachment,
and a perpetual state of becoming – a striving to be something other than what is. These
mechanisms of the self are the breeding ground for psychological suffering. When the self is
threatened, when its attachments are shaken, or its ambitions thwarted, it experiences
suffering.

Furthermore, suffering arises from comparison and the pursuit of ideals. The self,
conditioned to measure itself against others and societal benchmarks, cultivates a sense of
inadequacy and longing. The relentless pursuit of becoming something 'more' or 'better' than
we currently are, serves as a constant reminder of our perceived shortcomings, contributing
to our suffering.

Happiness:

Krishnamurti suggests that happiness is not the result of fulfilling desires or achieving goals,
as these are transient states bound to the wheel of pleasure and pain. True happiness, as he
describes, is unconditioned; it is a state of being that arises when the mind is free from the
self's incessant demands and the burden of the past.
Happiness is found in the understanding of what is, in the absence of resistance to the
present moment. It is the natural outcome of being fully aware and attentive to life as it
unfolds, without the filter of the conditioned mind that distorts perception. When the mind is
free from the conflict of duality, free from the desire for more, it is capable of experiencing joy
that is not dependent on external circumstances.

the byproduct of understanding the self and living in harmony with what is. It is a state of
clarity and peace that comes with the dissolution of the psychological barriers we have
erected within ourselves.

The self's search for happiness through accumulation, whether it be material or

psychological, inevitably leads to dependence and, therefore, to fear and sorrow. True
happiness, then, is a state of freedom from the known, from the continuous cycle of desire
and fulfillment that characterizes the self's existence.
To understand happiness, Krishnamurti insists on the importance of self-knowledge –
knowing the content of one's own consciousness without the distortions of preconceived
beliefs or past experiences. It is in the mirror of relationship – to people, things, and ideas –
that the self is revealed. In observing these relationships without judgment or condemnation,
one begins to perceive the nature of the self with its conflicts and contradictions.

In this observation, there is a realization that the self is a construct, a series of responses
and reactions based on past conditioning. With this insight, the mind can move beyond the
self, beyond the realm of thought and time, to experience the joy of being – a state where
happiness is not pursued but simply is.

In the absence of the self's interference, one encounters the essence of happiness, which is
inseparable from love and compassion. This happiness is not individual but universal, not a
fleeting emotion but an abiding presence that sustains and permeates all of life.
Suffering is the consequence of the self's ignorance of its own nature and its attempt to
assert its existence through separation and division. Happiness, on the other hand, is the
realization of the self's non-existence as a separate entity and the ensuing freedom from the
bondage of the ego.

Internal Conflicts:

We all have experienced inner turmoil at times - those nagging voices that tell us one thing
while we feel or do another. "I should be more patient with my kids, but I lost my temper
again." "I know I should eat healthy, but I just can't resist ice cream."
These inner contradictions, if left unexamined, can plant seeds of anxiety, stress, even
self-hatred. We judge ourselves harshly for not living up to our ideals or values. We feel like
hypocrites.
For example, Raj grew up hearing he must excel at school and get a high-paying job to be
worthwhile. But deep down, he yearns to be an artist. This inner contradiction causes pain
and insecurity no matter how well he does in his career. He judges himself as a failure for
not meeting expectations instilled since childhood.

Consider Amir, a devoted father who wants to be fully present with his children. Yet he also
feels driven to work long hours to provide for his family financially. The need to care for
them emotionally tugs against his desire to be a good provider. He often loses patience
over small things after long days at the office, feeling like he's failing his kids despite his
good intentions.

Or take Lina, who struggles with anxiety and wants to radiate positivity. Yet she often finds
herself ruminating over worst-case scenarios. She wants to manifest her dreams, but feels
paralyzed by fear of disappointing others. Her mind cycles between envisioning her goals
and imagining failure. She ends up procrastinating, then feeling guilty for not taking
action.

We often identify closely with our personal experiences, desires, and fears, which
isolates us and leads to conflict. Instead of being consumed by personal desires,
understanding the nature of desire itself is crucial.

Desires create the division between what is and what should be. This division is rooted in
the psychological structure of the self or ego, which is constructed from our accumulated
knowledge, experiences, and conditioning. We battle internally when our actual state of
being does not align with our perceived ideals or goals, and this tension is exacerbated
by the dualities we live with, such as success and failure or pleasure and pain.

The human mind is locked in a continuous struggle to be something different or to

become something greater. This movement of becoming is rooted in our dissatisfaction
with our current state and our desire to achieve an idealized future.

Our societies and cultures are steeped in the paradigm of ‘becoming,’ driving us to seek
improvement, success, and enlightenment. This process involves time and is deeply
ingrained in our conditioning. It’s a global phenomenon where individuals and groups
compete and measure themselves against each other, leading to conflict on personal and
societal levels.

When we cling to our desires, ideologies, or identities, we set the stage for opposition.
For example, if my desires conflict with yours, we are at odds. Yet, it is not the desires
themselves that are the issue, but rather the attachment to fulfilling them at the
expense of others.

When experiences happen to “me,” they acquire supreme importance compared to the
experiences of “you.” “My” desires clash with “your” desires. “My” beliefs contradict
“your” beliefs. Each person and group operates from this isolated platform of “me,” of
ego, and thus interpersonal and intergroup tensions emerge.

Similarly, global conflicts, such as those between Arabs and Jews, can be traced back to
a sense of ownership and division over the land. The earth belongs to all, but the failure
to see this shared inheritance breeds endless strife.

Over time, the ego also develops ideals and patterns of what “I should be” that clash
with “what I am.” For instance, society may condition us that material success brings
happiness whereas our lived reality is feeling stressed and joyless in a high-powered
career. This discrepancy between the ideal self and the actual self creates inner conflict
and turmoil. The ego structure is therefore the psychological basis of why conflict exists.

Krishnamurti also pointed out that contradiction within our thoughts and actions is a source of conflict. We
may hold certain ideals or beliefs, but our actions may not align with them. For example, we may value honesty but
find ourselves lying to avoid conflict or to gain advantage. This contradiction leads to a fragmentation within our psyche,
where there is a constant battle between what we think we should do and what we actually do. This dissonance breeds
internal conflict as there is no harmony between our principles and our behavior.
I am a good guy and I shouldn’t be having these bad thoughts (a conflict in the mind
where one doesn’t try to understand "what is" and their immediate judgement based on
morals creates an inner conflict not allowing one to really look into and understand
themselves free of judgement). Suppose you are having a negative opinion about
someone, unless you understand the root cause of the opinion, any practice you do to
calm your mind would not free you from your opinions.

Similarly, spiritual paths based on ideals, authority, and effort to reach an enlightened
state also create inner conflict rather than resolving it.

Further, Krishnamurti acknowledges that desire and pleasure are fundamental human
drives, encompassing aspects such as sexuality, ambition, and greed. However, society
often imposes restrictions or suppressions on these desires through moral codes,
traditions, and taboos. This creates a tug-of-war within us, as our innate desires pull in
one direction while societal conditioning and moral edicts pull in the opposite. We are
torn between fulfilling our desires and adhering to societal expectations, unable to act
freely or think holistically. The psyche, conditioned by society over centuries, operates on
the basis of dividing life into dualities, such as good/evil, right/wrong, mine/yours.

The societal norms and traditions we’ve been brought up with educate us in the ways of
conflict. Krishnamurti points out that this education in conflict involves comparison,
imitation, adjustment to patterns, and a continuation of past patterns into the future. We
are molded to fit into certain ideals, to measure ourselves against standards that may
not align with our true nature. This constant striving to meet external benchmarks leads
to deeper conflict and can result in neurotic behaviors.

The human mind is conditioned by its past - our upbringing, experiences, societal influences, etc. This conditioning
causes us to have preconceived ideas, prejudices, fears, and patterns of thinking that may not align with the present
reality. This discord causes internal conflict.
● We develop certain images of how we think we should be, and when our actual thoughts/feelings/actions don't
live up to these idealized images, it creates a divide within us. Krishnamurti encouraged seeing ourselves as we
actually are, without judgment.
● Our sense of being a separate "I" or ego causes us to become self-centered. This focus on ourselves causes us
to compare, desire, fear, which fuels inner turmoil. Krishnamurti taught that moving beyond this illusion of
separateness by seeing the interconnectedness of all things is a path out of conflict.
● Our conditioning causes us to categorize, judge, and react to experiences as good/bad, right/wrong,
pleasant/unpleasant. By seeing things as they are without these mental labels, inner conflict can subside.

The Futility of Attempting to Resolve Conflict with Control:

The effort to control thought by thought is a self-defeating process → controlling thought is

like working with symptoms and not the cause, “I have jealousy towards someone”, “I
shouldn’t have jealousy” → this is conflict of thoughts, both the thought (“I have jealousy
towards someone”) and the thinker (“I shouldn’t have jealousy”) are thoughts and both
have reasons/conditioning/images behind them which causes these thoughts to emerge.
But if rather than understanding these thoughts, one tries to control, suppress, judge
these thoughts, one can never be able to uncover the root cause and truly give an end to
these.

Rationally, if the 'I' or 'self' that is trying to control thoughts is itself a collection of
thoughts and memories, then it's not truly separate or in control. Attempting to control
thoughts often leads to a paradoxical effect, known as "rebound effect" or "ironic process
theory" in psychological terms. For example, if you try not to think of a white bear, the
effort of avoiding that thought keeps bringing it back to your mind. The suppression itself
makes the thought more persistent.

It causes inner tension: By pitting parts of ourselves against each other, we create inner
tension, anxiety, frustration. We are fighting against the natural movement of our own
minds. This tension actually generates more uncontrolled thoughts.

It creates a divided self: When we try to control our thoughts, we create a division between
a controlling part (the "I") and the part being controlled. But this controller is just another
thought. So we divide ourselves against ourselves unnecessarily.

1. Division of the self: Control creates a division between the controller (who is trying
to be in charge) and the controlled (the aspect of oneself that is being suppressed
or regulated). This division leads to inner conflict and struggle, which can
perpetuate psychological issues rather than resolve them.
2. Surface-level solutions: Control often deals with the symptoms of a problem rather
than its root cause. By controlling behavior without understanding the underlying
reasons for it, one may temporarily suppress undesirable actions or thoughts, but
the core issue remains unaddressed.
3. Fear-based motivation: Control is frequently motivated by fear—fear of not being
good enough, fear of failure, fear of one's own thoughts and feelings. Krishnamurti
taught that actions born out of fear can never lead to true understanding or
freedom, as they are inherently limiting.
4. Understanding vs. control: Krishnamurti emphasized the importance of
understanding oneself—observing one's thoughts, feelings, and actions without
judgment or censorship. He believed that this kind of observation leads to natural
and intelligent action, rather than action that is forced through control.

1. "I want to stop being angry" - The desire to not be angry arises from anger itself.
The thinker (the one who wants to stop being angry) is a product of the thought
(anger).
 2. "I want to be more loving" - The desire to be loving comes from a self-image of not
being loving enough. The thinker (the one striving to be more loving) is created by
the thought (perceived lack of love).
3. "I want to be free of jealousy" - The urge to be free of jealousy implies there is
jealousy in the first place. The thinker (the one seeking freedom) springs from the
thought (jealousy).
4. "I want to end my suffering" - The desire to be free of suffering is part of the
movement of suffering itself. The thinker (the one who wants to end suffering)
emanates from the thought (the suffering).

Futility of escaping from the Conflict:

How anxious we are to find an answer to our problems! We are so eager to find an
answer that we cannot study the problem; it prevents our silent observation of the
problem. The problem is the important thing, and not the answer. If we look for an
answer, we will find it; but the problem will persist, for the answer is irrelevant to the
problem. Our search is for an escape from the problem, and the solution is a
superficial remedy, so there is no understanding of the problem. All problems arise
from one source, and without understanding the source, any attempt to solve the
problems will only lead to further confusion and misery. One must first be very clear
that one’s intention to understand the problem is serious, that one sees the necessity
of being free of all problems; for only then can the maker of problems be approached.
Without freedom from problems, there can be no tranquillity; and tranquillity is
essential for happiness, which is not an end in itself. As the pool is still when the
breezes stop, so the mind is still with the cessation of problems. But the mind cannot
be made still; if it is, it is dead, it is a stagnant pool. When this is clear, then the maker
of problems can be observed. The observation must be silent and not according to
any predetermined plan based on pleasure and pain.

‘But you are asking the impossible! Our education trains the mind to distinguish, to
compare, to judge, to choose, and it is very difficult not to condemn or justify what is
observed. How can one be free of this conditioning and observe silently?’

If you see that silent observation, passive awareness is essential for understanding,
then the truth of your perception liberates you from the background. It is only when
you do not see the immediate necessity of passive and yet alert awareness that the
‘how,’ the search for a means to dissolve the background arises. It is truth that
liberates, not the means or the system. The truth that silent observation alone brings
understanding, must be seen; then only are you free from condemnation and
justification. When you see danger, you do not ask how you are to keep away from it.
It is because you do not see the necessity of being passively aware that you ask
‘how’. Why do you not see the necessity of it?

‘I want to, but I have never thought along these lines before. All I can say is that I want
to get rid of my problems, because they are a real torture to me. I want to be happy,
like any other person.’
Consciously or unconsciously we refuse to see the essentiality of being passively
aware because we do not really want to let go of our problems; for what would we be
without them? We would rather cling to something we know, however painful, than
risk the pursuit of something that may lead who knows where. With the problems, at
least, we are familiar; but the thought of pursuing the maker of them, not knowing
where it may lead, creates in us fear and dullness. The mind would be lost without the
worry of problems; it feeds on problems, whether they are world or kitchen problems,
political or personal, religious or ideological; so our problems make us petty and
narrow. A mind that is consumed with world problems is as petty as the mind that
worries about the spiritual progress it is making. Problems burden the mind with fear,
for problems give strength to the self, to the ‘me’ and the ‘mine.’ Without problems,
without achievements and failures, the self is not.

‘But without the self, how can one exist at all? It is the source of all action.’

As long as action is the outcome of desire, of memory, of fear, of pleasure and pain, it
must inevitably breed conflict, confusion and antagonism. Our action is the outcome
of our conditioning, at whatever level; and our response to challenge, being
inadequate and incomplete, must produce conflict, which is the problem. Conflict is
the very structure of the self. It is entirely possible to live without conflict, the conflict
of greed, of fear, of success; but this possibility will be merely theoretical and not
actual until it is discovered through direct experiencing. To exist without greed is
possible only when the ways of the self are understood.

‘Do you think my deafness is due to my fears and repressions? Doctors have assured
me that there is nothing structurally wrong, and is there any possibility of recovering
my hearing? I have been suppressed, in one way or another, all my life; I have never
done anything that I really wanted to do.’

Inwardly and outwardly it is easier to repress than to understand. To understand is

arduous, especially for those who have been heavily conditioned from childhood.
Although strenuous, repression becomes a matter of habit. Understanding can never
be made into a habit, a matter of routine; it demands constant watchfulness,
alertness. To understand, there must be pliability, sensitivity, a warmth that has
nothing to do with sentimentality. Suppression in any form needs no quickening of
awareness; it is the easiest and the stupidest way to deal with responses.
Suppression is conformity to an idea, to a pattern, and it offers superficial security,
respectability. Understanding is liberating, but suppression is always narrowing,
self-enclosing. Fear of authority, of insecurity, of opinion, builds up an ideological
refuge, with its physical counterpart, to which the mind turns. This refuge, at whatever
level it may be placed, ever sustains fear; and from fear there is substitution,
sublimation or discipline, which are all a form of repression. Repression must find an
outlet, which may be a physical ailment or some kind of ideological illusion. The price
is paid according to one’s temperament and idiosyncrasies.
‘I have noticed that whenever there is something unpleasant to be heard, I take refuge
behind this instrument, which thereby helps me to escape into my own world. But
how is one to be free from the repression of years? Will it not take a long time?’

It is not a question of time, of dredging into the past, or of careful analysis; it is a

matter of seeing the truth of repression. By being passively aware, without any
choice, of the whole process of repression, the truth of it is immediately seen. The
truth of repression cannot be discovered if we think in terms of yesterday and
tomorrow; truth is not to be comprehended through the passage of time. Truth is not
a thing to be attained; it is seen or it is not seen, it cannot be perceived gradually. The
will to be free from repression is a hindrance to understanding the truth of it; for will
is desire, whether positive or negative, and with desire there can be no passive
awareness. It is desire or craving that brought about the repression; and this same
desire, though now called will, can never free itself from its own creation. Again, the
truth of will must be perceived through passive yet alert awareness. The analyser,
though he may separate himself from it, is part of the analysed; and as he is
conditioned by the thing he analyses, he cannot free himself from it, again, the truth
of this must be seen. It is truth that liberates, not will and effort.

“As long as one is escaping from loneliness, there is no essential difference between the
worship of God and addiction to alcohol. Socially, there may be a difference; but
psychologically, the man who runs away from himself, from his own emptiness, whose
escape is his search for God, is on the same level as the drunkard.”

What is needed, rather than running away or controlling or suppressing or any other
resistance, is understanding fear; that means, watch it, learn about it, come directly into
contact with it. We are to learn about fear, not how to escape from it.

Escaping through Hope and Psychological Time:

She spoke easily, and words came naturally to her, though still young, there was sadness
about her; she smiled with distant remembrance and her smile was strained. She had been
married but had no children, and her husband had recently died. It was not one of those
arranged marriages, nor one of mutual desire. She did not want to use the word ‘love’, for it
was in every book and on every tongue; but their relationship had been something
extraordinary. From the day they were married till the day of his death, there had never been
so much as a cross word or a gesture of impatience nor were they ever separated from each
other, even for a day. A fusion had taken place between them, and everything else –
children, money, work, society – had become of secondary importance. This fusion was not
romantic sentimentalism or a thing imagined after his death, but it had been a reality from
the from the very first. Their joy had not been of desire, but of something that went beyond
and above the physical. Then suddenly, a couple of months ago, he was killed in an
accident. The bus took a curve too fast, and that was that.

‘Now I am in despair; I have tried to commit suicide, but somehow I can’t. To forget, to be
numb I have done everything short of throwing myself into the river, and I haven’t had a good
night’s sleep these two months. I am in complete darkness; it is a crisis beyond my control
which I cannot understand, and I am lost.’ She covered her face with her hands. Presently
she continued: ‘It is not a despair that can be remedied or wiped away. With his death, all
hope has come to an end. people have said I will forget and remarry, or do something else.
Even if I could forget, the flame has gone out; it cannot be replaced, nor do I want to find a
substitute for it. We live and die with hope but I have none. I have no hope, therefore I am
not bitter; I am in despair and darkness, and I do not want light. My life is a living death, and I
do not want anyone’s sympathy, love, or pity. I want to remain in my darkness, without
feeling, without remembering.’

Is that why you have come, to be made more dull, to be confirmed in your despair? Is that
what you want? If it is, then you will have what you desire. Desire is as pliable and as swift
as the mind; it will adjust itself to anything, mould itself to any circumstances, build walls that
will keep out light. Its very despair is its delight. Desire creates the image it will worship. If
you desire to live in darkness, you will succeed. Is this why you have come, to be
strengthened in your own desire?

‘A friend of mine told me about you, and I came impulsively. If I had stopped to think,
probably I wouldn’t have come. I have always acted rather impulsively, and it has never led
me into mischief. If you ask me why I have come, all I can say is that I don’t know. I suppose
we all want some kind of hope; one cannot live in darkness forever.’

What is fused cannot be pulled apart; what is integrated cannot be destroyed; if the fusion is
there, death cannot separate. Integration is not with another, but with and in oneself. The
fusion of the different entities in oneself is completeness with the other; but completeness
with the other is incompleteness in oneself. Fusion with the other is still incompleteness. The
integrated entity is not made whole by another; because he is complete, there is
completeness in all his relationships. What is incomplete cannot be made complete in
relationship. It is illusion to think we are made complete by another.

‘I was made complete by him. I knew the beauty and the joy of it.’

But it has come to an end. There is always an ending to that which is incomplete. The fusion
with the other is always breakable; it is always ceasing to be. Integration must begin within
oneself, and only then is fusion indestructible. The way of integration is the process of
negative thinking which is the highest comprehension. Are you seeking integration?
‘I don’t know what I am seeking, but I would like to understand hope, because hope seems
to play an important part in our life. When he was alive, I never thought of the future, I never
thought of hope or happiness; tomorrow did not exist as far as I was concerned. I just lived,
without a care.’

Because you were happy. But now unhappiness, discontent, is creating the future, the hope
– or its opposite, despair and hopelessness. It is strange, is it not? When one is happy, time
is nonexistent, yesterday and tomorrow are wholly absent; one has no thought for the past or
the future. But unhappiness makes for hope and despair.

‘We are born with hope and we take it with us to death.’

Yes, that is just what we do; or rather, we are born in misery, and hope takes us to death.
What do you mean by hope?

‘Hope is tomorrow, the future, the longing for happiness for the betterment of today, for the
advancement of oneself; it is the desire to have a nicer home, a better piano or radio; it is the
dream of social improvement, a happier world, and so on.’

Is hope only in the future? Is there not hope also in the what has been, in the hold of the
past? Hope is in both the forward and the backward movement of thought. Hope is the
process of time, is it not? Hope is the desire for the continuation of that which has been
pleasant, of that which can be improved, made better; and its opposite is hopelessness,
despair. We swing between hope and despair. We say that we live because there is hope;
and hope is in the past, or, more frequently, in the future. The future is the hope of every
politician, of every reformer and revolutionary, of every seeker after virtue and what we call
God. We say that we live by hope; but do we? Is it living when the future or the past
dominates us? Is living a movement of the past to the future? When there is concern for
tomorrow, are you living? It is because tomorrow has become so important that there is
hopelessness, despair. If the future is all important and you live for it and by it, then the past
is the means of despair. For the hope of tomorrow, you sacrifice today; but happiness is ever
in the now. It is the unhappy who fill their lives with concern for tomorrow, which they call
hope. To live happily is to live without hope. The man of hope is not a happy man, he knows
despair. The state of hopelessness projects hope or resentment, despair or the bright future.

‘But are you saying that we must live without hope?’

Is there not a state which is neither hope nor hopelessness, a state which is bliss? After all,
when you considered yourself happy, you had no hope, had you?

‘I see what you mean. I had no hope because he was beside me and I was happy to live
from day to day. But now he is gone, and… We are free of hope only when we are happy. It
is when we are unhappy, disease ridden, oppressed, exploited, that tomorrow becomes
important; and if tomorrow is impossible, we are in complete darkness, in despair. But how is
one to remain in the state of happiness?’

First see the truth of hope and hopelessness. Just see how you have been held by the false,
by the illusion of hope, and then by despair. Be passively watchful of this process – which is
not as easy as it sounds. You ask how to remain in the state of happiness. Is not this very
question based essentially on hope? You wish to regain what you have lost, or through some
means to possess it again. This question indicates the desire to gain, to become, to arrive,
does it not? When you have an objective, an end in view, there is hope; so again you are
caught in your own unhappiness. The way of hope is the way of the future, but happiness is
never a matter of time. When there was happiness, you never asked how to continue in it; if
you had asked, you would have already tasted unhappiness.

‘You mean this whole problem arises only when one is in conflict, in misery. But when one is
miserable one wants to get out of it which is natural.’
The desire to find a way out only brings another problem. By not understanding the one
problem, you introduce many others. Your problem is unhappiness, and to understand it
there must be freedom from all other problems. Unhappiness is the only problem you have;
don’t become confused by introducing the further problem of how to get out of it. The mind is
seeking a hope, an answer to the problem, a way out. See the falseness of this escape, and
then you will be directly confronted with the problem. It is this direct relationship with the
problem that brings a crisis, which we are all the time avoiding; but it is only in the fullness
and intensity of the crisis that the problem comes to an end.

The phrase "falseness of escape" in the passage refers to the illusory and ineffective nature
of trying to avoid or run away from the deep feelings of despair and loss that the woman is
experiencing following her husband's death. The escape is "false" in the sense that it does
not truly address or resolve the underlying issues; it only temporarily distracts from or
suppresses the pain.
In the passage, the term "falseness of escape" refers to the idea that the desire to escape
from unhappiness or despair can lead to a false sense of hope or a temporary solution that
does not address the root cause of the problem. The passage explains that when one is
unhappy, they may seek a way out of their misery, but this desire can bring another
problem. By not understanding the one problem, they introduce many others.

The escape can be seen as false because:

It is based on hope, which is a desire for the continuation of what has been pleasant or can
be improved. Hope is a process of time, and it can lead to a swing between hope and
despair.
The desire to escape from unhappiness can lead to a state of conflict and misery, as the
mind seeks a hope, an answer to the problem, or a way out.
The direct relationship with the problem is not addressed, and the crisis is avoided, which
can prolong the unhappiness and despair.
To truly confront the problem, one must see the falseness of this escape and understand
that happiness is never a matter of time. When there was happiness, there was no need to
ask how to continue it. The desire to find a way out only brings another problem, and by
not understanding the one problem, more problems are introduced. The passage suggests
that understanding the one problem and facing the crisis directly can bring an end to the
problem and lead to a state of happiness.

1. The Nature of Psychological Time: Krishnamurti differentiated between

chronological time and psychological time. Chronological time is necessary for
daily functioning, scheduling, and planning. In contrast, psychological time is a
mental construct related to the past and future. It includes memories,
 expectations, and projections. He argued that psychological time is often an escape
from the present moment and that true transformation is hindered by continuous
deferment to the future or being anchored in the past.
Example: If a person keeps thinking that they will be happy when they achieve a
certain goal in the future, they are never fully addressing their current state of
mind. The transformation of their state of happiness is always postponed to a
future moment that never arrives, because there will always be another goal to
reach.
2. The Immediate Perception of Truth: Krishnamurti believed that the perception of
truth is immediate. When we see something clearly as false or true, the very act of
seeing is the transformation. There is no gradual process to it.
Example: If you've been told all your life that a particular path is the only way to a
destination, you may follow it without question. But if one day you see a map that
clearly shows a shorter, more direct route, the realization is instantaneous. You
won't continue following the old path while gradually transitioning to the new one;
you will change your course immediately.
3. The Limitation of Effort: Krishnamurti posited that effort implies a struggle towards
an ideal, which is always based on the known, the past. He suggested that true
transformation is not the result of striving towards an ideal, which is simply a
projection of the mind, but rather a letting go of all such projections.
Example: Consider someone trying to be nonviolent. As long as they're making an
effort to be nonviolent, they're still in conflict—violence is still present in the form
of struggle. When they see the truth about violence directly and understand its root
causes within themselves, the transformation to nonviolence happens without
effort.
4. The Trap of the 'Becomer': Krishnamurti introduced the concept of the 'becomer',
someone who is always trying to become something else. He argued that as long as
one is trying to become something, they are never truly being. Transformation is
not about becoming but about being without the process of becoming.

In summary, Krishnamurti's perspective on transformation being outside the realm of time

is about the immediacy of insight and the cessation of psychological patterns of the past.
He believed that true change is not a process that unfolds in time but an instantaneous
shift that occurs when one steps out of the stream of psychological time and fully
encounters the “what is”.

Now imagine "what is" as your current state of mind. You may currently feel anxious, angry,
sad. "What should be" then is the state you wish to reach - to feel peaceful, content, happy.
You assume it requires some time and effort to reach that desired state.
But the problem is that both your current state and desired state are fluctuating, not fixed. By
only focusing on the future, you fail to see how your state of mind shifts from moment to
moment. Things that happen in between affect how you feel. And often we avoid what we
feel in the present by fantasizing about the future.

Yet the only reality is how you feel right now. Rather than judging your current state or
wishing to feel differently, be attentive to the present moment. Apply curiosity rather than
criticism. Examine what factors are impacting your state of mind, rather than making plans
for the future. This allows you to understand yourself deeply as you are, without judgement.
Then positive change can unfold organically.

Imagine you are standing at the edge of a vast and turbulent river. On the bank where
you stand is your current reality—everything that you are in this moment. Across the
river, on the distant shore, is the vision of who you wish to be: wiser, happier, more
fulfilled. The river between these banks represents time, and you believe that by
crossing it, you will reach that better self.

This is the essence of Krishnamurti's message: we use time as a bridge between

'what is'—our present reality—and 'what should be'—our ideal future state. We say
things like, "I am impatient now, but given enough time, I will become patient." This
vision of ourselves in the future is often either a reflection or a contradiction of our
current state. If we are impatient, we imagine a future where we are the epitome of
patience.

Krishnamurti argues that the very act of projecting an ideal self into the future is a form of
avoidance. When we focus on 'what should be', we are turning away from the raw truth of
'what is'. If I am suffering, if I am confused, if I am jealous, that is my reality. It is not
something to be deferred or escaped through time. Rather, it demands my immediate
attention and understanding.
Consider a person who is jealous. They may tell themselves, "I will work on my jealousy, and
one day, I'll be free of it." But what happens in the meantime? Each day that they delay facing
their jealousy, it festers and grows, perhaps manifesting in harmful ways. They are caught in
the illusion that time will heal or transform their jealousy without direct action on their part.
The future becomes a sanctuary where all problems are magically solved, not through effort
or understanding, but simply by the passing of days, years, or even lifetimes.
Krishnamurti invites us to see through this illusion. To truly address 'what is', there must be a
sense of immediacy—an understanding that time will not resolve our issues for us. Instead of
waiting for the river of time to deliver us to the other shore, we must dive into the water and
engage with the current reality.
Imagine now that instead of gazing across the river, you look directly at the water swirling
around your feet. You notice the coldness, the force, the direction of the flow. This is akin to
examining 'what is': acknowledging the jealousy, the pain, or the confusion that exists in you
right now. It is uncomfortable, even painful, but it is real. And it is only by facing this reality
that any real change can occur.
Krishnamurti's philosophy suggests that by applying ourselves fully to understanding 'what
is', without any distraction or postponement, we can begin to unravel the problems we face.
This application is not a casual glance but a deep, penetrating gaze. It involves our entire
being—our thoughts, feelings, and actions.
Let's return to the example of jealousy. Instead of saying, "I will deal with this tomorrow,"
you confront it head-on. You explore its roots, its triggers, and its effects on your life and
relationships. You don't simply wish for it to disappear with time; you actively engage with
the emotion. You may discover that your jealousy stems from insecurity or past experiences.
By bringing your full attention to these underlying causes, you can work on healing them in
the present moment.
In this view, time is not a healer but a field in which we either confront or avoid our reality.
When we avoid, we create disorder, for the unresolved issues of 'what is' will keep
resurfacing, no matter how much time passes. It's like ignoring the weeds in a garden, hoping
they'll disappear with the seasons. They won't; they'll only grow thicker and more entangled

Understanding:
The essence of Krishnamurti's teaching here is the invitation to observe these
contradictions without the immediate imposition of moral judgement. For it is in this
space of non-judgmental observation that true understanding and freedom lie.
Take, for instance, the negative opinion you might hold about a colleague. It's a thought
that seems to surface despite your best efforts to suppress it. You might chastise yourself,
thinking, "I am a good person; I shouldn’t have such thoughts." This is where the
contradiction arises, and the inner conflict begins to fester.
But let's delve deeper into the real world, where these contradictions are not merely
abstract concepts but lived experiences. Take the prevalent issue of social media envy. On
one hand, users project an image of positivity and camaraderie. On the other, they often
experience pangs of jealousy and resentment as they scroll through the curated highlights
of others' lives. The contradiction here is palpable - the dissonance between the projected
self and the experienced emotions.
The key to navigating these contradictions, as Krishnamurti suggests, is not to silence or
condemn the dissonant thought but to understand its root. Why do we feel what we feel?
Is it insecurity, fear, a past hurt? By pausing the rush to judgment, we allow ourselves the
clarity to understand our thoughts and, consequently, ourselves.

The next time you feel an inner conflict, pause and listen. Be curious, not judgmental. See
if you can uncover the unique history and needs of each inner voice. This builds
self-understanding and makes inner harmony possible. We are complex beings. Simple
acceptance of our multidimensionality is the path out of suffering caused by
self-contradiction. The more we embrace the totality of who we are - shadows and all - the
less we suffer.

If we can understand what is, then perhaps all these problems will cease. Our
approach to any problem is to avoid it; we want to do something about it. The doing
prevents our being in direct relationship with it, and this approach blocks the
understanding of the problem. The mind is occupied with finding a way to deal with
the problem, which is really an avoidance of it; and so the problem is never
understood, it is still there. For the problem, the what is, to unfold and tell its story
fully, the mind must be sensitive, quick to follow. If we anaesthetize the mind through
escapes, through knowing how to deal with the problem, or through seeking an
explanation or a cause for it, which is only a verbal conclusion, then the mind is made
dull and cannot swiftly follow the story which the problem, the what is, is unfolding.
See the truth of this and the mind is sensitive; and only then can it receive. Any
activity of the mind with regard to the problem only makes it dull and so incapable of
following, of listening to the problem. When the mind is sensitive — not made
sensitive, which is only another way of making it dull — then the what is, the
emptiness, has a wholly different significance.

Awareness:

Rajesh’s Journey of Emotional Healing: Awakening of Choiceless Awareness

As a child, Rajesh lost his mother early in his childhood. The loss of his mother in his
tender years left him with wounds that ran deeper than he could fathom. The emotional
support he desperately needed was cruelly snatched away, leaving him to navigate the
treacherous waters of life on his own. Those early scars, festering like open wounds, lay
dormant but never forgotten, waiting to shape the tumultuous path that lay ahead.

Rajesh’s adulthood was marked by a turbulent journey through a series of relationships,

each one more volatile than the last. It was as if the universe conspired to make him
relive the abandonment he felt as a child, one heartbreak at a time. To escape the
relentless pain that lurked within, he sought refuge in hedonistic pleasures and
embarked on new, ill-fated connections, all in a desperate bid to outrun his emotional
turmoil.

But there came a moment, a pivotal turning point in Rajesh’s life, where the walls he’d
built to shield himself from his inner demons began to crumble. The pain, once hidden
deep within his psyche, now surged to the surface with a ferocity that could not be
denied and escape was no longer an option.

In that dark hour, the ethereal flower of choiceless awareness bloomed within Rajesh’s
tortured psyche. It cast a searing light upon the shadowed recesses of his soul, exposing
every hidden scar, every festering wound. At first, it was difficult for Rajesh to be
choicelessly aware of his inner shadows. They were so strong and so urgent. But he
persisted. He began to observe all that arose from his unconscious, the pain, the
triggers, the desires to flee from these pains, the devil of loneliness, and the emotional
emptiness without judgment or attachment. With unwavering determination, he
observed the tumultuous spectrum of his past experiences as they surfaced, played
themselves out, and, like ashes scattered by the wind, were finally released. In this state
of choiceless awareness, he found himself in direct contact with the amalgamation of all
his past pains, liberating him from the grip of his past trauma, ensuring that he would
never be ensnared by it again.
Consequences of Escaping from Problems: Understanding Choiceless Awareness

When we escape from our problems, we are essentially running away from ourselves. We
are refusing to face the pain and suffering that we are experiencing. This may provide
temporary relief, but it does not address the underlying issue. In fact, it often makes the
problem worse.

Choiceless awareness, on the other hand, is about facing our problems head-on. It is
about observing our thoughts, feelings, and experiences without judgment or
attachment. When we do this, we begin to see our problems for what they really are. We
start to understand the root causes of our suffering. And with this understanding, we can
begin to heal.

J. Krishnamurti’s concept of choiceless awareness is a difficult one to grasp intellectually,

because it is the very nature of choiceless awareness to be without labels or judgments.
It is the profound ability to be aware without making choices, judgments, or preferences,
without accepting or rejecting “what is” happening both outside and inside us. In this
silent and choiceless observation of what is, the problem unrolls itself and is fully and
completely understood, both its surface and hidden aspects, in a non-verbal and
non-experiential way. When the choiceless awareness happens, the whole spectrum of
past experiences come out to the surface (samskaras/vasanas), play themselves out and
empty the unconscious from the grip of these past experiences. In this choiceless
awareness, there is no “you” who is attending, but only the act of attending left to itself.

OBSERVATION WITHOUT A CENTRE means there is only that thing you call pain. There is
no entity saying, ‘I must go beyond the pain.’ When there is no observer, is there pain? This
is not just a trick of words. It is the observer that gets hurt; it is the centre that gets flattered.
It is the centre that says, ‘It’s a shock.’ It is the centre that says, ‘I know pain.’ Can you
observe this thing called pain without the centre or observer?

For Krishnamurti, awareness is the key to understanding and resolving internal conflict. He
asserted that we must become acutely aware of the workings of our own minds and the
nature of our thoughts and feelings without trying to control or judge them. This awareness
allows us to see the futility of the 'self' and its desires and fears. When we observe our
thoughts without attachment, we begin to dissolve the boundaries that separate the observer
from the observed, leading to a sense of unity and wholeness.
In this state of heightened awareness, we can see the patterns of our conditioning and the
ways in which they contribute to our internal conflicts. By perceiving these patterns clearly,
we can begin to free ourselves from them, leading to a transformation in our consciousness.
Krishnamurti believed that this transformation is not the result of willpower or effort but
comes naturally when there is complete attention and understanding of the nature of our
thoughts and feelings.

Krishnamurti challenges us to witness our conflict without attempting to resolve it through

further conflict. This means giving the issue our complete attention, listening to its subtleties,
and understanding its depths without directing it or imposing motives upon it. Just as one
would attentively listen to a child’s story, we must let the conflict reveal itself to us in its
entirety.

This process allows the problem to flower and wither naturally, without the impatience of
time-bound resolutions. When we truly listen and give our full attention, the problem
dissolves, much like a flower blooms and fades away.

Living Without Comparison

Krishnamurti urges us to live without comparison, which means without ideals, patterns, or
the authority of tradition or ideology. By doing so, we confront ‘what is’ directly, without the
distorting lens of ‘what should be.’ When we no longer compare or attempt to transform
‘what is’ into something it is not, we eliminate a significant source of conflict.

This requires a deep insight into the nature of ‘what is.’ For instance, if one is violent,
acknowledging that violence as a fact without trying to escape or suppress it is the first step.
Only when thought does not move away from this actuality can we have an insight and
understanding on why one is violent in the first place. This understanding is not possible if
we harbor a desire to change ‘what is.’

To end conflict, Krishnamurti suggests we must understand the nature of thought and the
self. Observing our minds without judgment allows us to see our conditioning and the illusory
nature of the dualities that govern our psychological self. By becoming aware of our thought
patterns and the structures that sustain them, we can begin to dismantle the frameworks that
lead to division and conflict.

Emotions: Imagine you are feeling angry. Instead of getting lost in the story of why you are
angry, who is to blame, or trying to suppress the anger, Krishnamurti would suggest
observing the anger as it is. Feel where it manifests in your body, notice the thoughts that
come up, but do not judge or try to rationalize them. This observation without the
interference of the ego or thought patterns is seeing "what is."

Relationships: In a relationship, there might be conflict or tension. Often, we bring our past
hurts, expectations, and conditioned responses into these situations. Krishnamurti would
advise us to look at the actuality of the relationship without these psychological burdens.
That means seeing the other person and the relationship dynamics as they truly are in the
moment, not as we fear or wish them to be.

Society and Conflict: Krishnamurti often spoke about the state of the world and the violence
in society. He encouraged people to observe the actuality of what society is—a network of
relationships and systems based on certain values and beliefs—without accepting or
rejecting it based on one's conditioning. By doing so, one might discover the root causes of
conflict and violence, which often lie within our own consciousness.
Seeking and Search for Truth: Rather the path of understanding

Any spiritual experience — whether a vision, feeling of oneness, transcendence etc. —

happens within the framework of the seeker-sought/experiencer-experience duality. There is
a “me” having an experience. So it reinforces the idea that I am an individual entity having an
experience. However profound, spiritual experiences come and go. Most importantly, these
experiences strengthen the psychological tendency to pursue more and deeper experiences.
It breeds dependency and demand for repetition. The mediator says — “I had a very
profound experience last week during meditation, so if I practice more, I can repeat it or go
deeper.” There is dependency on the known. With dependency comes fear — fear of losing
the blissful state, fear of it not repeating. So one tries techniques and methods to
re-experience it. Moreover, When one engages in rigorous practices with a goal in mind,
they are essentially trying to achieve a state that is defined by their understanding and
expectations, which are products of past experiences and will only be the projections of their
mind.

Infact, When one is searching there is a separation between “what is” and the idealized state
(what should be) we are trying to achieve. Which further reinforces psychological time and
becomes a barrier to the timeless. It creates a dichotomy between the current self
(incomplete) and the projected enlightened self (complete).

Hence an endless search creates a split that feeds itself — the more I seek, the more lack
and incompleteness I feel. When seeker realises the contradiction of seeking, the becoming,
effort and search stops. When the search ends, the artificial division between the seeker and
the sought collapses, creating space for the truth to reveal itself.

In reality, truth or the sacred is not an object to be sought out there. I already am what I am
seeking, there is nothing lacking. This unbounded awareness cannot be attained for it is who
I already am. The seeker IS the sought — there is no divide.

Moreover, Seeking Truth as an experience is a misunderstanding because experiences are

objects observed by consciousness, not consciousness itself. Consciousness is not an
experience or state that comes and goes. It is one’s natural state — free, unconditioned,
without dependency on any experience, It is what I fundamentally am.

Like the eyes that can see everything but cannot see themselves, Pure Consciousness is
the perceiving entity, not an object of perception.

So What to do?

We are strongly identified with mind and body and so feel imprisoned in them. In order to
find a release we constantly seek sensual experience. In the same manner we seek spiritual
experience also hoping it will be more exciting and permanent than the sense experience.
Slipping into a sense experience is easy and pursuing a spiritual experience is little more
difficult but both are escapades from the current experience of tremendous loneliness,
boredom, fear, envy, anger, insufficiency etc. Instead if habit of identification with mind and
body ceases, then the process of seeking release through another experience, other than
what you are going through, comes to an end. This is the end of the illusory experiencer or
the individualized consciousness and the end of the idea of a future experience also. The
idea of past and future is only for the identified entity. When identification is gone, never to
return, what shines is only the Pure Reality. Pure Reality is the only true release. Death of
the experiencer is true immortality !

This is why Krishnamurti emphasizes engaging in inquiry through awareness, choiceless

observation. Not to find an answer but to uncover the many layers of conditioning that distort
perception and create the illusion of experiencer. When the entire foundation of
psychological conditioning is seen through, only then there is the silence in the mind. In this
silence of a mind, no longer projecting, interpreting, there is immediate perception of truth as
it is — and hence flowering of the truth.

As the Choiceless observation continues, In each experience (physical, emotional or

intellectual), one can observe the arisal of the experiencer and see that it also a perceived
entity and can just observe it without pursuing it as if it is oneself ! The complete weakening
of the experiencer so that its pull is like zero gravity (vasanakshaya) and the complete
reduction in its frequency of arisal so that it seems non-existent (manonasa) is Moksha or
the establishment in Truth or Self!

If one may ask, sir, do you think that the immeasurable can be found by searching for it? By
following different paths, through discipline and self-torture, through sacrifice and dedicated
service, will the seeker come upon the eternal? Surely, sir, whether the eternal exists or not is
unimportant, and the truth of it may be uncovered later; but what is important is to understand
why we seek, and what it is that we are seeking. Why do we seek?

"I seek because, without God, life has very little meaning. I seek Him out of sorrow and pain. I seek
Him because I want peace. I seek Him because He is the permanent the changeless; because there
is death, and He is deathless. He is order, beauty and goodness, and for this reason I seek Him."

That is, being in agony over the impermanent we hopefully pursue what we call the permanent.
The motive of our search is to find comfort in the ideal of the permanent, and this ideal is born of
impermanency, it has grown out of the pain of constant change. The ideal is unreal, whereas the
pain is real; but we do not seem to understand the fact of pain, and so we cling to the ideal, to the
hope of painlessness. Thus there is born in us the dual state of fact and ideal, with its endless
conflict between what is and what should be. The motive of our search is to escape from
impermanency, from sorrow, into what the mind thinks is the state of permanency, of everlasting
bliss. But that very thought is impermanent, for it is born of sorrow. The opposite, however
exalted, holds the seed of its own opposite. Our search, then, is merely the urge to escape from
what is.

"Do you mean to say that we must cease to search?"

If we give our undivided attention to the understanding of what is, then search, as we know it, may
not be necessary at all. When the mind is free from sorrow, what need is there to search for
happiness? "Can the mind ever be free from sorrow?"

To conclude that it can or that it cannot be free is to put an end to all inquiry and understanding.
We must give our complete attention to the understanding of sorrow and we cannot do this if we
are trying to escape from sorrow, or if our minds are occupied in seeking the cause of it. There
must be total attention, and not oblique concern.

When the mind is no longer seeking, no longer breeding conflict through its wants and cravings,
when it is silent with understanding, only then can the immeasurable come into being.

The ‘spiritual seeker’ experiences epiphanies, samadhis, satoris and the like that give rise to
the conviction that the ‘the truth’ dwells ‘within’ as the ‘higher’ or ‘inner’ self or as some
transcendental state of consciousness.

He or she will probably characterize the changes during this phase as an ‘awakening.’
Although the experience of the inner self/truth/state is invariably uplifting and intensifies
one’s quest, it is always confusing because the information one gathers challenges the
habitual view of oneself as a needy, incomplete, inadequate, separate creature. Many of
these experiences can truthfully be described as the experience of oneness with all things,
limitlessness, and of transcendent bliss.

During this stage which might be also called the meditation stage, the mind, formerly riveted
on happenings in the outer world turns inward and fixes itself on the self, the ‘light within,’
and at some point, usually after intense investigation, ‘realizes’ the self, since the self is the
source of all experience.

This ‘realization’ is always in the form of an experience and is thought by many to be the end
of the search…and the ultimate ‘state.’ But Vedanta says that while this is a welcome and
enjoyable ‘state’ it is not the end because there is still a sense of separation between the
experiencer and the object of experience, the self.

When there is separation there is doubt and the doubt is always that this ‘state,’ like all
states will end, plunging the experiencer back into darkness…which invariably happens
because what is actually happening is that the experience is actually not the experience of
the self but a reflection of the self in a still mind and since both the experiencer, the ego, and
the mind are in time they are subject to change.

This doubt is due to the failure of the experiencer to understand that what is being
experienced is just his own self…in which case it could never be lost. The failure to convert
the experience to knowledge is usually caused by the belief in the experiencer that
knowledge is merely intellectual and that there is such a thing as a permanent experience.
So when the experience happens the intellect gets submerged in the bliss, peace, and
radiance and switches off, as it does in most intense sensuous experiences, and stops
inquiring.

To enter the ‘final’ stage, which is not a stage, inquiry must continue during the experience of
the self. When the ego experiences the reflection of the self in a pure mind a thought
corresponding to the nature of the self, called an akandakara vritti, an unbroken ‘I’ thought
arises, and this thought needs to be owned. When it is taken as one’s own, it is this ‘I’
thought, backed by experience, that destroys the notion in the ego/mind that it is limited,
incomplete and separate.

The search for truth is such a false affair, as though by searching for it, asking others the
way to it, reading about it in books, trying this or that system, you will be able to find it. To
‘find it’ is as if it were something there, fixed, motionless, and all you need do is recognise it,
grasp it, and say you have found it. It isn’t far away: there is no path to it. It is not something
you can capture, hold, treasure and verbally convey to another. Search implies a seeker, and
in that there is division, the everlasting fragmentation that man has made within himself and
in all his activities. It is not that there must be an end to seeking but rather the beginning of
learning. Learning is far more important than finding. To find one must have lost. Losing and
recognising is the pattern of search. One cannot experience truth. It does not give the
satisfaction of achievement. It does not give one anything at all. It cannot be understood if
the ‘you’ is still active.

No one can teach you about it so you need not follow anybody. All that one can do is to
understand by careful observation the intricate movement of thought: how thought divides
itself, how it creates its own opposites and thereby brings contradiction and conflict. Thought
is so restless and in its restlessness it will attach itself to anything it thinks is essential,
permanent, completely satisfying, and truth becomes its final attachment of satisfaction. You
can never invite truth by any means. It is not an end; but it is there when the visual
observation is very clear and when there is the perception of understanding. Understanding
can take place only when there is complete freedom from all one’s conditioning.
It is this conditioning that is prejudice. So do not bother about truth but rather let the mind be
aware of its own prison. Freedom is not in the prison. The beauty of emptiness is freedom.