Awakening of Intelligence (J. Krishnamurti Book 1)

by J. Krishnamurti

Can the mind see that sunset, live with it completely at that moment and finish with it—and begin afresh tomorrow? So that the mind is always free from the known.

Questioner: I remember when I came to Switzerland as a small child and I saw a mountain for the first time, it was without any remembrance. It was very beautiful. KRISHNAMURTI: Yes, Sir, when you see it for the first time you don’t say, “It is a mountain”. Then somebody tells you that it is a mountain and the next time you recognise it as such. Now, when you observe, there is the whole process of recognition. You don’t confuse the mountain with a house or an elephant, it is a mountain. Then the difficult problem arises: to observe it non-verbally. “That is a mountain”, “I like it or I don’t like it”, “I wish I could live up there”, and so on. It is fairly easy just to observe it, because the mountains do not affect your life. But your husband, your wife, your neighbour, your son or daughter, they affect you; therefore, you cannot observe them without evaluation, without the image. This is where the problem arises—can you look at the mountain and at your wife or your husband, without a single image? See what happens! If you can observe without an image, then you are looking at them for the first time, aren’t you? Then you are looking at the earth, the stars, the mountains, or the politician, for the first time. That means your eyes are clear, not dimmed with the burden of past memories. That is all. Go into it. Work at it. You will find out the enormous beauty that is in this.

KRISHNAMURTI: Can I observe all of myself totally, all the reactions, the fears, the enjoyments and the pursuit of pleasure, all that, at a glance? Or do I have to do it gradually? What do you think? If I do it little by little, look one day at one part of myself, the next day at another part, can it be done that way? Today I look at a fragment of myself and tomorrow at another; what is the relationship of the first fragment to the second one? And in the interval between the perception of the first and the second fragment, other factors have come into being. So this fragmentary examination, observing little by little, leads to a great deal of complexity; in fact, it has no value. My question then is: can I observe non-fragmentarily, totally, on the instant? I have been conditioned to look at myself, to look at the world fragmentarily—as a Christian, a Communist, a Hindu. I have been brought up in this culture to look at the world fragmentarily. Being conditioned by this culture, I cannot possibly take a total view. My chief concern then is to be free of this culture, this education, and not whether I can see completely or not. To free the mind from fragmentation, not to be a Catholic or a Protestant—to wipe away all that! I can wipe away all that instantly when I see the truth of it; I cannot see the truth of it if I love being a Hindu, because that gives me a certain position. I wear a turban and impress a lot of silly people. And I take pleasure in the past, because trad...

One must have an extraordinary sense of energy which has no cause, which has no motive, which has the capacity to be utterly quiet, and this very quietness has its own explosive quality.

Can there be action without an idea, without a formula, without a concept?—an action in which there is no resistance as will. If there is will there is contradiction, resistance and effort, which is a wastage of energy.

We said the other day, where there is confusion there must be choice. A man who sees things very clearly (not neurotically or obstinately) does not choose. So choice, will, resistance—the “me” in action—is wastage of energy. Is there an action unrelated to all this so that the mind lives in this world, functioning in the field of knowledge and yet free to act without the impediment of the limitation of knowledge? The speaker says there is an action in which there is no resistance, no interference of the past, no response of the “me”. That action is instantaneous because it is not in the field of time—time being yesterday, with all the knowledge and experience which acts today, so that the future is already established by the past. There is an action which is instantaneous and therefore complete, in which will does not operate at all. To find that out the mind must learn how to observe, how to see. If the mind sees according to a formula of what you should be, or what I should be, then the action is of the past.

What is false? Everything is false that thought has put together—psychologically not technologically. That is, thought has put together the “me”, the self with its memories, with its aggression, with its separativeness, with its ambitions, competitiveness, imitation, fear and past memories; all that has been put together by thought.

I do not know if you have ever thought about space. Where there is space there is silence. Not the space created by thought, but a space that has no frontiers at all, a space that is not measurable, that cannot be connived at by thought, a space that is really quite unimaginable. Because when man has space, real space, width and depth and an immeasurable sense of extension, not of his consciousness—which is merely another form of thought extending itself with its measurement from a centre—but that sense of space which is not conceived by thought, when there is that kind of space there is absolute silence.

I do not know if you have noticed it, but if one has been observant, aware of the things around one and in oneself, has not just lived to earn money and have a bank account, this and that, one must have seen how little space one has, how crowded it is in ourselves. Please watch it in yourself. Being isolated in that little space, with enormous thick walls of resistance, of ideas and of aggression, how is one to have space that is really immeasurable? As we said the other day, thought is measurable, thought is measure. And any form of self-improvement is measurable; obviously, self-improvement is the most callous form of isolation. One sees that thought cannot bring about the vast space in which there is complete and utter silence? Thought cannot bring it, thought can only progress, evolve, in ratio to the end it projects, which is measurable. That space which thought creates, imaginatively, or of necessity, can never enter a dimension in which there is space which is not of thought. Through centuries thought has built a space that is very limited, narrow, isolated, and because of this very isolation, it creates division; where there is division there is conflict, nationally, religiously, politically, in relationship, in every way. Conflict is measurable—less conflict or more conflict, and so on.

Then the question arises: can thought be completely silent and only function when necessary—when one has to use technical knowledge, in the office, when one is talking and so on—and the rest of the time be absolutely quiet? The more there is space and silence, the more it can function logically, sanely, healthily with knowledge. Otherwise knowledge becomes an end in itself and brings about chaos. Do not agree with me, see it for yourself? Thought, which is the response of memory, of knowledge, experience and time, is the content of consciousness; thought must function with knowledge, but it can only function with the highest intelligence when there is space and silence—when it functions from there.

Just now I said thought with all its knowledge, which is always accumulating, is something living; it is not a dead thing, therefore the vast space can move together with thought. When thought separates itself as the thinker, as the experiencer causing division and conflict, then that experiencer, observer, thinker, becomes the past which is stationary and therefore cannot move. The mind sees in this examination that where there is division in thought, movement is not possible. Where there is division the past comes in and the past becomes stationary, the immovable centre. The immovable centre can be modified and added to, but it is an immovable state and therefore it has no free movement.

Intelligence is not thought. Intelligence is this silence and is therefore totally impersonal. It does not belong to any group, to any person, to any race, to any culture.

KRISHNAMURTI: I understand the question. What do you think? When there is complete harmony—real, not imaginary harmony—when the body, the heart and the mind are completely harmonious and integrated, when there is that sense of intelligence which is harmony, and that intelligence is using thought, then will there be the division of the observer and the observed? Obviously not. When there is no harmony there is fragmentation, then thought creates the division as the “me” and the “not me”, the observer and the observed. This is so simple.

I see I am not aware, and I am going to watch what happens in that state when I am not aware. To be aware that I am not aware is awareness. I know when I am aware; when there is an awareness it is something entirely different. And I know when I am not aware, I get nervous, I twitch my hands, I do all kinds of stupid things. When there is attention in that unawareness the whole thing is over. When at that moment of unaware-ness I am aware that I am not aware, then it is finished; because then I don’t have to struggle nor say, “I must be aware all the time, please tell me a method to be aware, I must practise and so on”—becoming more and more stupid. So you see when there is no awareness and I know I am not aware, then the whole movement changes.

And we think we understand the content of the superficial mind. But I question it, and I also question very much whether the unconscious can ever be investigated by the conscious. If I don’t know the content of the conscious mind, how can I examine the unconscious with its content?

Questioner: Either accept the world as it is, or totally reject it—we can’t accept it as it is. KRISHNAMURTI: Who are you to accept it? Why should you accept it or reject it? It is a fact. There is the sun. Do you accept it or reject it? It is there! You are faced with this and if you reject it, who is the person who is rejecting it? The person is part of that consciousness he is rejecting; only it is a part that does not suit him. And if he accepts, he will accept the part that suits him.

do you realise it, in the sense that when you have toothache there is an absolute realisation of pain—you do something about it? You don’t theorise about it, you go to the nearest drugstore, or to the dentist, there is action. In the same way, when the mind realises totally that you are conditioned, that your consciousness is its content—and that any movement you make is still part of that consciousness—trying to get out of it, accepting it, or rejecting it, is still part of it—then how does the realisation of that truth affect your life?

I can’t do anything about the noise of that train going by, therefore I listen to it. I cannot do a thing about the roar of that train. Therefore I don’t put up a resistance to it, I listen. There is noise but it does not affect me. In the same way when I realise that I am neurotic, that I am holding on to a particular way of belief, a particular way of action, that I am homosexual, or whatever it is, that I have tremendous prejudices, I just listen to it totally. I do not resist it, I listen to it totally, completely, with my heart.

The brain is not forcing itself to be quiet. If it is forcing itself to be quiet then it is still the operation of the past. In that there is division, there is conflict, there is discipline and all the rest of it. But if the old brain understands, or sees the truth—that as long as it is in constant response to any stimulus, it must operate along the old lines—if the old brain sees the truth of that, then it becomes quiet. It is the truth that brings about quietness—not the intention to be quiet.

If the old brain is in operation all the time it can’t discover anything new. So it is only when the old brain is quiet that something new is seen, and in that quiet state something new is discovered. This is a fact.

Now what is the nature of not knowing? Is there fear when there is a state of not knowing?—which is death. You follow, Sirs? When the old brain actually says, “I don’t know”, it has relinquished all knowing. It has relinquished altogether the intention of knowing, of wanting to know. So there is a field in which the old brain cannot function, because it does not know. Now what is that field? Can it ever be described? It can be described only when the old brain recognises and verbalises it to communicate. So there is a field in which the old brain cannot possibly enter; this is not an invention, this is not a theory, this is a fact when the old brain says, “I really don’t know anything about this.” Which means there is no intention to- learn about the new. You see the difference, Sirs? So now I want to find out non-verbally, because the moment I use a word I am back in the old. Therefore is there an understanding of something new non-verbally?—in the sense of not inventing a new word, or intending to describe it so as to capture it and hold it. So I am just enquiring, the mind is looking at something which it does not know at all. Is that possible? It has always looked in terms of learning about it, resisting it, avoiding it, escaping from it, or overcoming it. Now it is doing nothing of the kind. Do you understand? If this is not possible you cannot understand the other.

What is the something which the old brain cannot understand and therefore cannot possibly know or acquire knowledge about? Is there such a thing? Or is it just an invention of the old brain wanting something new to happen? If it is the old brain wanting something new to happen, it is still part of the old brain. Now I have examined it completely, so that the old brain has understood its structure and nature and therefore is absolutely still, not wanting to know. That is where the difficulty lies.

Questioner: Could you discuss the difference between the intensity to find out, and the desire of the old for the new. KRISHNAMURTI: The desire of the old for the new is still the old; therefore the desire for the new, or the experience of the new—call it enlightenment, God, what you like—is still part of the old; therefore that’s out.

Has the old any relationship with freedom, love, the unknown? If it has relationship with the unknown, then it is part of the old—you follow? But if the unknown has relationship with the old, then it is quite a different proposition. I don’t know if you see that?

My question is: what is the relationship between these two, and who wants relationship? Who is demanding this relationship? Is the old demanding it? If the old demands it, then it is part of the old, therefore it has no relationship with the other. I don’t know if you see the beauty of this. The old has no relationship with freedom, with love, with this dimension. But that new dimension, love, can have a relationship with the old, but not the other way round. Do you see it, Sirs?

Questioner: Would that be where intelligence comes in? KRISHNAMURTI: Now wait Sir, perhaps you are right. When the old brain sees that it can never understand what freedom is; when it sees that it is incapable of discovering something new, that very perception is the seed of intelligence, isn’t it? That is intelligence: “I cannot do.” I thought I could do a lot of things, and I can, in a certain direction, but in a totally new direction I cannot do anything. The discovery of that is intelligence, obviously.

Intelligence cannot function when the old brain is active, when there is any form of belief and adherence to any particular fragment of the brain. All that is lack of intelligence. The man who believes in God, the man who says, “There is only one Saviour”, is not intelligent. The man who says, “I belong to this group”, is not intelligent. When one discovers the limitation of the old, the very discovery of that is intelligence, and only when that intelligence is functioning can the new dimension operate through it. Full stop. Have you got it?

One of our major problems is fear, whether we are aware of it or not, whether we run away from it or try to overcome it, try to withstand it, develop courage and all the rest of it, there is still fear.

Questioner: I fear the unknown. KRISHNAMURTI: Now listen to that question. Why should one be afraid of the unknown, when you know nothing about it? Please enquire into it.

So follow this: I want certainty of tomorrow, and certainty can only exist where there is knowledge, when I say, “I know”. Can I know anything except the past? The moment I say “I know” it is already the past. When I say “I know my wife”, I know her in terms of the past. In the past there is certainty and in the future there is uncertainty. So I want to draw the future into the past so that I will be completely safe. I see fear arises where thought is operating; if I did not think about tomorrow there would be no fear.

KRISHNAMURTI: We haven’t solved this problem because we refuse to leave our particular little opinions, judgments and conclusions. Let’s abolish them and think anew. For me it is very simple. Thought must create fear because thought cannot ever find security in the future. Thought has security in time; tomorrow has no time. Tomorrow exists in the mind as time, but tomorrow may not exist at all, psychologically. And because of that uncertainty, thought projects what it wants for tomorrow: safety, what I have acquired, what I have achieved, what I possess, all that. And that too is completely uncertain. So can thought be quiet about the future? That’s my point. Can thought be quiet, which means: function where it is necessary for physical protection; and therefore no divisions into nationalities, no separate Gods, no warmongers. Let thought be quiet so that time as tomorrow does not exist. Therefore I have to understand what it is to live now. I don’t understand what it is to live now, nor have I understood what it is to live in the past, therefore I want to live in the future, which I don’t know, as I don’t know what the present is. So I am asking, can I live completely, wholly, today? I can only do that when I have understood the whole machinery and the functioning of thought, and in the very understanding of the reality of thought there is silence. And where the mind is quiet there is no future, no time.

Now I am asking, is there such a thing as psychological time at all, or is it merely an invention of thought? “I shall meet you tomorrow, under a tree, near the bridge”—that is chronological time. “I am afraid of tomorrow and I don’t know how to meet that fear of tomorrow”—that is psychological time, isn’t it?

Questioner: How about if I say, “Why must this beautiful thing come to an end?” KRISHNAMURTI: That is also psychological time, isn’t it? I feel a particular relationship to something beautiful and I don’t want it to end. There is the idea that it might come to an end and I won’t like it to end, and I am afraid of it. So that’s one part of the structure of fear.

Questioner: Because of the image I have of myself. KRISHNAMURTI: Which means I have an image of myself as not being a fool. And when you call me a fool, or a blackguard, or a whatever it is, I get hurt because of my image. Why do I have an image about myself? As long as I have an image about myself I’m going to be hurt.

Intelligence has nothing whatsoever to do with thought. You may be very clever, very good at arguing, very learned. You may have experienced, lived a tremendous life, been all over the world, investigating, searching, looking, accumulating a great deal of knowledge, practised Zen or Hindu meditation. But all that has nothing whatsoever to do with intelligence. Intelligence comes into being when the mind, the heart, and the body are really harmonious.

Therefore—follow this, Sirs—the body must be highly sensitive. Not gross, not overindulging in eating, drinking, sex, and all the rest that makes the body coarse, dull, heavy. You have to understand all that. The very seeing the fact of that makes you eat less, gives the body its own intelligence. If there is an awareness of the body, which is not being forced, then the body becomes very, very sensitive, like a beautiful instrument. The same with the heart; that is, it is never hurt and can never hurt another. Not to hurt and not to be hurt, that is the innocency of the heart. A mind which has no fear, which demands no pleasure—not that you cannot enjoy the beauty of life, the beauty of trees, of a beautiful face, looking at children, at the flow of water, at the mountains and the green pastures—there is great delight in that. But that delight, when pursued by thought, becomes pleasure.

Questioner: May I ask you a question? You often talk about the beauty of the mountains and the stillness of the mind when looking at the beauty of a cloud. Can the mind be still when looking at something horrible? KRISHNAMURTI: Just listen carefully, observe the dark and the light, the slum and the non-slum. Can you watch that? Can there be an awareness in which these divisions don’t exist? Is there an awareness in which the division between poverty and riches does not exist? Not the fact that there is not the division, with all its injustice, immorality, all that—but an awareness in which this division doesn’t exist? That is, can the mind observe the beauty of the hill and the squalor, and not prefer, or incline to one, opposed to the other? That means an awareness in which choice doesn’t exist. You can do this. Not that poverty should go on—you would do something, politically, socially and so on; but the mind could be freed from division, from this classical division between the rich and the poor, between beauty and ugliness, from the opposites and all the rest of it.

KRISHNAMURTI: Yes: is there an awareness of thought watching itself? Questioner: I don’t like the word “watch”. KRISHNAMURTI: All right: an awareness of itself. Now wait a minute, just look. Have you understood the question? You can be aware of the tree, of the hill, of your sitting there; there is an awareness of that. Is there an awareness that you are aware that you are being aware? Please see the question. You can be aware of the tree, the cloud, the colour of your shirt, and you can be aware objectively. You can also be aware of how your thought is operating. But is there an awareness of being aware? When you are aware of a tree, as an observer, is that awareness? The tree is there and you are aware of that tree. You then become the observer and that becomes the observed, and you say, “That’s not it.” In that there is a division, as the observer and the observed. It is the same with the cloud, the same with you sitting there, and the person speaking, sitting on a platform and observing. In that too there is a division. In this too there is the observer watching you, the observed; in that there is division. One can be aware of thought. I am going step by step. Being aware of thought, in that also there is a division; the one who is aware separating himself from thought.

Now you are asking a question, which is: does awareness know, or is it aware of itself, without an observer? Of course not, the moment there is no observer, there is no awareness of being aware. Obviously, Sir, that’s the whole point! The moment I am aware that I am aware, I’m not aware. Remain with it, Sir, for two minutes remain with it! The moment I am aware that I am humble, humility is not. The moment I am aware that I am happy, happiness is not. So if I am aware that I am aware, then that is not awareness; in that there is division between the observer and the observed. Now you are asking a question, which is: is there an awareness in which division as the observer and the observed comes to an end? Obviously awareness means that—awareness means that the observer is not.

Questioner: Can one be aware of the tree without the observer, without that space? KRISHNAMURTI: Look at it. When you look at a tree, there is space between you and the tree. Wait Sir, we are going step by step. When you look at that tree, there is a distance between you and the tree, there is the space, there is division. That division takes place when there is the observer who has an image of that tree as the oak, or the pine. So the knowledge, the image, separates the observer from the observed, from the tree. Please look at it. Can you look at that tree without the image? If you look at that tree without the image, without saying, “That is an oak”, “That is beautiful or not beautiful”,...

Look at a tree and see if you can look at it without any image. That is fairly easy. But to look at yourself without an image, to look at yourself without the observer, that’s much more difficult. Because what you see is unpleasant or pleasant, you want to change it, you want to control it, you want to shape it, you want to do something about it. So can you look at yourself without the observer, as you can if you look at the tree? Which means to look at yourself with complete attention. When there is complete attention there is no image. It is only when your mind is thinking, “I wish I had a better ‘me’”, or “I am going to do so and so”—then when you are looking, there is inattention.

Can thought completely operate in one direction and be totally silent in another, so that it does not create a division?

KRISHNAMURTI: First see our difficulty, don’t let’s find an easy answer, see the enormous implications in this. Man has lived by thought. We exercise thought every day, every minute. We must have thought; without it there is no action, you can’t live. You can’t destroy thought. To destroy thought implies a thought which is superior and says “I must destroy my lower thought”—it is all within the field of thought. This is what the Indians have done. They have said: thought is very limited, there is a superior thought, the Atman, the Brahman, the thing above; keep thought silent and then the other will operate. The very assertion of that is thought, isn’t it? Here you say “The soul”—it is still part of thought. So thought has produced this extraordinary world of technology, which thought uses for the convenience of human beings and for their destruction. It is thought that has invented the saviours, the myths, the gods; it is thought that has produced violence, that becomes jealous, anxious, fearful.

Thought has produced fear, there is no question about it. Thought has produced the aching loneliness in oneself, thought has said “I must fulfil, I must be, I am little, I must be big”. Thought has brought about jealousy, anxiety, guilt. Thought is that guilt. Not: thought makes for guilt, thought is guilt. How can I observe myself and the world, of which I am part, without any interference of thought in that observation, so that out of the observation a different action can come which does not produce fear, regrets and all the rest of it. So I must learn to observe myself and the world and my actions quite differently. There must be a learning of observation in which thought does not interfere at all because the moment thought interferes it leads to distortion, it becomes biased. Perception is in the present; you can’t perceive tomorrow. You perceive now, and when thought interferes in that perception—thought being the response of the past—it must distort the present; this is logical.

So what is looking? If there is no image then what is seeing? If I have no images at all about myself—which one has to go into very deeply—then what is there to see? There is absolutely nothing to see, and one is frightened of that. That is: one is absolutely nothing. But we can’t face that, therefore we have those images about ourselves.

When there is no observer then there is only the observed. Please see this: I am envious, or I overeat, I am greedy. The normal reaction is, “I must not overeat”, “I must not be greedy”, “I must suppress”, you know all that follows. In that there is the observer trying to control his greed, or his envy. Now when there is an awareness of greed without the observer, what takes place? Can I observe that greed without giving it a name, as “greed”? The moment I name it I have already fixed it as greed in my memory which says: I must get over it, I must control. So is there an observation of greed without the word, without justifying it, without condemning it? Which means, can I observe this thing called greed without any reaction whatsoever?

When I say, “I don’t know, I really don’t know”—I am not waiting for anybody to tell me, I am not expecting anything because nobody can answer it. So I actually don’t know.

I have asked the impossible question and I have said, “I don’t know.” Therefore the mind empties itself of everything, of every suggestion, every probability, every possibility; so the mind is completely active and empty of all the past—which is time, analysis, the authority of somebody. So it has exposed all the content of itself by denying the content. Do you understand now? As we said, meditation can only begin with the total understanding of myself; that is part of the beginning of meditation. Without understanding myself the mind can deceive itself, it can have illusions according to its particular conditioning. When you know your conditioning and are free of it, then there is no possibility of any kind of illusion, and that is absolutely essential because we can deceive ourselves so easily. So when I investigate into myself, I see that consciousness is emptying itself of all its content through knowing itself, not by denying anything, but by understanding the whole content; that brings about great energy, which is necessary, because that energy transforms completely all my activity. It is no longer self-centred and therefore the cause of friction.

In this observation I have found no system, no authority, no self-centred activity, therefore there is no conformity, no comparison of myself with another; to observe all this the mind must be extraordinarily quiet. If you want to listen to what is being said just now, you have to give attention, haven’t you? You can’t listen if you are thinking about something else. If you are bored with this, I can get up and go, but to force yourself to listen is absurd. If you are really interested in it passionately, intensely, then you listen completely, and to listen completely the mind must be quiet—this is very simple. All this is meditation; not just sitting for five minutes by yourself, cross-legged, breathing properly—that is not meditation, that is self-hypnosis.

When I have examined myself thoroughly, all this disappears. There is no neurosis, no belief, no nationality, no desire to hurt anybody, nor to recall all the hurts. So the brain then is a recording instrument, without thought using it as the “me” in operation. So meditation implies not only the body being still but also the brain being quiet. Have you ever watched your brain in operation? Why you think certain things. Why you react to others, why you feel desperately lonely, unloved, with nothing to rely on, no hope—you know this tremendous sense of loneliness? Though you may be married, have children and live in a group, there is this feeling of complete emptiness. Seeing it, one tries to escape from it, but if you remain with it, do not escape from it, just look at it completely without condemning it or trying to overcome it, but observe it actually as it is, then you will see that what you considered to be loneliness ceases to be.