KFA - Krishnamurti Foundation of America

I have eyes to see with.

I took a very long time for me to notice that I see more attentively when thought is not actively trying to fill the intervals where it is not truly useful.

Sure thing, beans. I know that I have the ability to play with words in such a way that it is obvious that that is what I am doing.

And, roots, I know that everything is in flux including this body/brain. I may be desire/need to see attentively at one moment, another I may be aware of kidding around while paying attention, and another time I may lapse into runaway thought for a bit.

Hi stumps, thanks for the attention.

It's nice to know that one has an audience; the footlights turn the audience into a black screen.

But, when they start applauding the aria you have just knocked out of the ballpark, that is where the electricity of performing comes from.

Jayaraj wrote:

Roots wrote:

I'm a mess and I know it. We talk here of ending psychological 'time' and of ending 'thinking' and 'knowing' and this-that-and-the-other similarly high-faluting ideas, with a view to sorting out my type of mess. I put it to you that none of these things can be accomplished. They all happen, perfectly naturally, when a self conscious being fully understands its own functioning, and no other thing on earth can bring them about. Does anybody here understand themself and their functioning, please? May I invite anybody to say anything to do with what, precisely, they might suppose themselves to know about themselves. Let's start with that we each - all things being equal - have two arms, two legs and a head.

My understanding sir is, understanding what observation is without division is essential here.That is observation of the content of the consciousness without a separate entity watching it. So this observation is just a mirror reflecting a movement. Without that absolutely no headway is possible.It is like getting the foot off the accelerator.Engine is still running but you are not fuelling it anymore.

Are you speaking from experience Jayaraj? Are you able to do this thing you speak of?

Roots wrote:

...They all happen, perfectly naturally, when ...

It’s still fear, a terrifying thing to die, not theoretically but actually when I am presented with the truth of it, in touch with it. I will, out of fear of losing the known, losing control over things of the known, find all ways to escape it through cunning, saintly, intelligent, smart, or godly manner. It is at the door of death and I keep the best bargain to delay it. Why do I say it is the door of death? Because I am dying, and I don’t want any continuity of the past in any terms whatsoever. When I say I don’t want it, it’s because the other possesses me. Yet I still see responsibility for the known. But the sun has set for me and the darkness of not knowing, the silence of death, the vanishing of all things, all so dark, silent, deserted, lifeless, and hopeless. It is not despair. It is just another seeing, an insight, to show me the way through the door of death.

Truth has no bargaining. And for me, it is that door of death to purify everything and burn away everything in its fire of rebirth in the unknown. The unknown kills my brain, and gives me something of madness, something of exploding me in moaning and muted crying and dissolving into the air. I cannot come to truth through any particular path. It must be total. And the total, the whole makes me mad, crazy and abnormal. That is why fear, so natural fear of the nerves.

Truth is not to fix the false reality of the world. How ridiculous a task for truth? It is an explosion of the me and completely, absolutely destroys it, only a shaking body left behind. I don’t have a place at all. Die, for death is the indestructible nature of truth. And so the unknowable newness which can never be known comes and goes in the scariest way to the organism, the body. Who am I?

Can you stay very far away from the ways of the false? Get done with it and stay away from it. The way of the new is not taking on the continuity of the false, play with it, modify it, and take it as a good new birth. In the deepest recesses of the universe edges the new is, so far from everything, oh everything of thought: how empty and silly it is. The new is explosion after explosion and the mind is enduring it, shaking, ecstatic, enduring the non-understandable. Who will say if it does not come again as love? I cannot tell.

snguyen wrote:

Roots wrote:

...They all happen, perfectly naturally, when ...

It’s still fear, a terrifying thing to die, not theoretically but actually when I am presented with the truth of it, in touch with it. I will, out of fear of losing the known, losing control over things of the known, find all ways to escape it through cunning, saintly, intelligent, smart, or godly manner. It is at the door of death and I keep the best bargain to delay it. Why do I say it is the door of death? Because I am dying, and I don’t want any continuity of the past in any terms whatsoever. When I say I don’t want it, it’s because the other possesses me. Yet I still see responsibility for the known. But the sun has set for me and the darkness of not knowing, the silence of death, the vanishing of all things, all so dark, silent, deserted, lifeless, and hopeless. It is not despair. It is just another seeing, an insight, to show me the way through the door of death.

Truth has no bargaining. And for me, it is that door of death to purify everything and burn away everything in its fire of rebirth in the unknown. The unknown kills my brain, and gives me something of madness, something of exploding me in moaning and muted crying and dissolving into the air. I cannot come to truth through any particular path. It must be total. And the total, the whole makes me mad, crazy and abnormal. That is why fear, so natural fear of the nerves.

Truth is not to fix the false reality of the world. How ridiculous a task for truth? It is an explosion of the me and completely, absolutely destroys it, only a shaking body left behind. I don’t have a place at all. Die, for death is the indestructible nature of truth. And so the unknowable newness which can never be known comes and goes in the scariest way to the organism, the body. Who am I?

Yes, the 'tree of life', guarded by a burning sword that turns all ways; no way past it without some pain. Ha, ha! Don't you just love it?! It's all so mysterious but as one wends one's way it starts to become fun (methinks).

Roots wrote:

... it starts to become fun (methinks).

Fun? I don’t know. Used to have.

Loneliness first. There is this sense of loneliness which is different from the loneliness when I am isolated from my comfort, support, sweet pleasure. This loneliness is the death of all the support, comfort, significance, people and ideas. It has no sense of self pity. But it is tremendously lonely, naked, bare, stripped of all things. It is like I want to go somewhere but nowhere to go to. An obvious fact and therefore remain lonely. But the teaching of this fact is a whipping on the understanding, not causing the pain of the other isolation, but a realization to prepare for entering the land of death. Obviously, for nothing stands any longer. And so, aloneness is true, bare, not to be used to cover up attachment.

Discover this loneliness, this tremendous feel. It all goes against traditional knowledge.

Ha ha ha ha ha!
RJ, I hear you.

When I am falling off a cliff, can I pause and look for a jumping spot? I just keep falling though I am still able to talk. Actually, it is a tough question, to jump or not to jump. Which way do I trust that will lead to the fall? If I choose to jump, it is not the fall, understand? But when I keep pushing the way that seems dizzy then I am actually falling without knowing in advance.

RJ wrote:

dear fellow!
I think you are reaching the edges of your sanity by now
well done, I'm sure it hasn't been easy

at some point you get to choose

stay in the washed out centre?

all that sensitivity, all that awareness
what do you do now?
I guess, like a Bruce or a Beans you could come to places like this to talk about it
I guess that might assuage the pointlessness, the loneliness
for a while
marvellous
the power of the self to delude itself
'I am God'
in effect


or, lose yourself entirely

stop talking like a man on the edge of jumping off a building
and jump

Dear Fairest of Them All,

If you look carefully at the message above, you will see your face three times.