Way of Intelligence
Chapter 5
Part 1
1st Seminar Madras
13th January 1978
Insights Into Regeneration
Sunanda Patwardhan: The present century is witness to tremendous
advances in technology and the expansion of the frontiers of
knowledge, and yet this does not seem to have brought about a
better society or happiness to man. Serious people all over the
world are increasingly questioning the role of technology and
knowledge in society. It is in this context of the values in
culture and in human consciousness that we have to search for
the roots of regeneration and of human progress. Mankind can no
longer be looked upon as an entity in mass. Though we are
meeting in Madras which is just a part, a corner, of this great
ancient earth, I feel that our perspective and approach to the
problems should have a global dimension.
A.P.: Modern society developed during the last two hundred
years. It has certain clear postulates - that the problems that
affect human society arise from a lack of material resources,
from poverty, disease, squalor; and that these can be remedied
by control over the material environment. This view persists in
men's minds, particularly in countries like India where there is
so much poverty. Similarly, the institutional patterns of
ownership of property and social resources have been treated as
one of the principal factors of social disorder. It is becoming
increasingly obvious that these postulates are a facile
oversimplification. Misuse of resources are a peril to human
survival. The criminal misdirection of scientific and
technological skill for the production of lethal weapons, atomic
and others, and pollution are grave risks to human survival.
Science and technology by themselves have no defence against
their own misuse. Similarly, the developments in the communist
world clearly expose the naive optimism that changes in the
ownership pattern will automatically lead to the creation of a
society of free and equal men. Marxism and science were the gods
of my generation but they have failed to avert the crisis in
which human society is caught. Today we question the validity of
unrestricted growth of the gross national product as the index
of economic well-being. The oil crisis and the energy crisis
have lent great weight to this scrutiny.
A wider question arises about whether the growth of knowledge
itself is not equally irrelevant to the central predicament of
modern man. Man is tethered to a fragmented view of human
development which aggravates the crisis. We are, therefore, once
again moving away from the periphery to explore whether human
consciousness is capable of a radical regeneration which makes
possible a new perspective and a sane and humane relationship.
We need to go beyond our present resources of knowledge to come
upon that wisdom which is also compassion. So long as we treat
the ego as a semi-permanent entity, it appears that love is
locked out and we live in a field of approximations.
Regeneration of man in society is tied up with the problem of
self-knowing. We now find that no solution can arise out of a
social perspective.
P.J.: Can we indicate the pressures, the challenges, which man
faces today within and without? There is no answer to the
problem of self-regeneration unless man comprehends the sense of
humanness. Does this understanding come through knowledge,
through technological processes? In what direction does man
search? I would suggest, therefore, that it is only through
discussion, dialogue, that the nature of our thinking can be
laid bare. This would bring to light not only the predicament
but also the solution.
Ivan Illich: One of our concerns in the last ten years has been
that a challenge which previously was regional has become
worldwide. For instance, the need to seek joy, peace,
enlightenment, satisfaction through the acceptance of limits;
and an austerity, a renunciation which previously might have
been considered merely a personal task for individuals in
certain kinds of cultures, based on their personal convictions,
is becoming the absolutely necessary condition for survival. The
need for this can be operationally verified, demonstrated
scientifically.
We are gathered here from very different cultures and
traditions. During the last generation, we have come - one
nation after another, one representative group after another,
parties, professions like medicine or teaching - to accept as
the purpose of public obligation certain concepts which were not
really around when I was born only fifty years ago. Progress,
development, in the sense in which we use these terms today is a
post-World War II concept. Economic growth, GNP are words which
some of the older amongst us still have some difficulty in
grasping. Progress, growth, development, have come to be
understood essentially as the substitution of things which
people previously did on their own. Its use-value is being
substituted by the commodity. In this process, politics has
become mainly a concern of providing for everybody equal outputs
of commodities. The equal protection of people's power and
ability to make, to do things on their own, to be autonomous,
the struggle for productive freedoms as opposed to productive
rights, has been almost forgotten, submerged, rendered
impossible by the various systems within which we live.
If, as you say, Pupulji, there is one canvas, one analytical
tool, one way of looking at the peculiar mutation in front of
which we stand, this is what I propose: For a hundred years -
and in a very intensive way for thirty years - progress had been
conceived of as enrichment, which inevitably destroyed those
conditions in the environment which make autonomy possible. This
is the real environmental destruction, in my opinion, deeper
even than the destruction of the physical environment through
poisons, through the aggressive overuse of the earth's
resources. It is the destruction in the environment of those
conditions - social, physical, mental - which make autonomy
possible. When you live in a large city almost anywhere in the
world, such simple things as giving birth or dying autonomously
become impossible. The apartment, the rhythm of life, is not
arranged for it. People have lost even the basic skills which
any midwife would have or any human being had who stood next to
another when he died.
Most of us - unless we are lucky to live perhaps in the suburbs
of Benares or in the countryside of India - are not allowed to
die. I am using the transitive term `to die'. We will cease to
exist under an action, which I shall call `Medicare'. It is not
murder, but man is made into a vegetable for the benefit of a
hospital. The rhythm of this development is of a grasping,
accumulative society, a society in which men are being led to
believe that modern techniques require such a society, where
technical progress means the incorporation of new inventions
into the commodity production processes. Printed books are tools
for teachers; ball bearings are means to accelerate motorized
vehicles even to a point where the car pushes the bicycle off
the road.
Now, it is an illusion that technical progress could be used in
order to render a modern society use-value intensive. In a
commodity-intensive society, goods which can be produced in a
machine are at the centre of the economy. And what people can do
on their own is permitted marginally, is tolerated as long as it
does not interfere with the process of enrichment; in a society
in which we inverse this use-value intensive and get modern, we
welcome technical devices only when we increase the ability of
people to generate use-values which are not destined for the
markets and we consider commodities very valuable only when we
increase people's ability to do or make things on their own. In
the kind of society in which we live, legitimate production is
overwhelmingly the result of employment. I buy part of your time
and energy, paying for it, and make you work under my
administration. Now in a use-value oriented society, just the
opposite would be true. Besides the work there would be equal
access to tools, opportunities for making or doing things
without being employed. Any employment would be considered a
condition which is necessary.
Now, how do we experience what it means to be human? In
summarizing a similar revolution in the darkest of the middle
ages in Europe, my teacher, Lerner, points out three concepts of
revolution, of turning around: One, which goes back to the
Golden Age and then starts again; the second, the turning of
this world into a golden age; and the third, the organistic
view. Lerner carefully worked out these three ideas and said
that in the sixth or seventh century, a fourth view came about
through a marriage between the Christian message and the
monastic tradition which came from the East into Europe - that
each man is responsible for his own revolution. And that the
only way for the world to be transformed is by the
transformation of each man, principally guided by the idea of
basic virtue. The first virtue to cultivate in the process of
true revolution is austerity or poverty of spirit. And austerity
was defined by a 13th century philosopher as that particular
part of the virtue of balance or prudence, which is the basis of
friendship, because it does not eliminate all pleasures, but
only those pleasures or things which would enter between me and
you or that which distracts me or you from each other.
Therefore, austerity is the basic condition of virtue for him
who wants to balance gracefully and joyfully.
K: May I add something to what Dr. Illich has said? I am only
adding, not contradicting. I think most people, thoughtful
people, have rejected every form of system, institution; no
longer are they trustful of communism, socialism, liberalism,
the left, right, politically or religiously. I think man has
come to a point where he feels - and I am sure Dr. Illich feels
the same - that one must have a new mind, a new quality of mind.
I mean by mind the activities of the brain consciousness,
sensory perception and intelligence. Is it possible before man
destroys himself completely, to bring about a new mind? That is
the major question that is confronting most serious and
thoughtful people. One has rejected completely the notion that
any system, institution, dogma or religious belief is going to
save man; and one demands or requires a revolution not only
sociologically, but inwardly, with clarity and compassion. Is it
possible for human beings to bring about a totally different
category or dimension of the mind?
P.K.S.: The crisis in consciousness, so far as I can see, is an
ever-recurring phenomenon in history. I think, therefore, that
it must be genetically viewed. It is possible to find a general
pattern in this crisis. One form is man against nature, man
finding himself a stranger in a world which he perhaps considers
inimical to him. Therefore, man has to fight against the forces
of nature, and this brings about a crisis in his heart. Another
form is much deeper and perhaps more significant for human
history - man versus man. This arises because man considers
another man as an objective phenomenon and, therefore, alien.
That is, an individual poses a danger, a threat, a challenge to
his own security, completeness. The third aspect of this crisis
is man against himself. He does not know what is the inspiration
of his own life, mind, thought. Very frequently, he carries on a
battle in his own heart; there is a dialogue between the good
and the bad, the moral and the immoral, the progressive and the
regressive, the civilized and the uncivilized, the mechanical
and the inspired. In my view the solution lies in the heart of
man, which brings us back to consciousness. The examination now
becomes rather internal: From the Indian point of view,
certainly, there has been time when inwardness - aavritta
chakshu - has been a progressive attitude against outwardness,
where objectification yielded place to examination.
Nandishwara Thero: Is it possible to find the solution from
theories of knowledge or should knowledge come from within?
K: Are we having a dialogue theoretically or in abstraction?
I.I.: I think what has been said is the kernel of the matter. We
have industrialized gurus and, as a consequence, the minds of a
very large percentage of people have been industrialized.
Knowledge is considered competence, awareness, valuable. In the
West, the largest professional body are the self-appointed
bureaucrats with the guru function, called pedagogues, and
people who are afraid to trust their latent powers. I don't
think there has been such a time when people all over the world
with the desire to trust their latent powers have been so
totally repressed.
K: Yes, sir, I know. But I keep on asking, are we having a
dialogue on theories or on actualities, the actual being what is
taking place now, not only outwardly but inside ourselves. At
what level are we having a dialogue - theoretical, philosophical
or concerned with our daily existence, our relationship to each
other and to our daily activity?
Talking about consciousness, are we individuals? Human beings
are fragmented. Do we have consciousness which is common, every
man going through suffering, agonies of loneliness, the whole
business of existence? Is that not universal consciousness? It
seems to me that our consciousness is the consciousness of all
man because every human being goes through fear, anxiety and so
on. So our consciousness is the consciousness of the world.
Therefore, I am the world and the world is me; I am not an
individual. We are not individual in the real sense of the word.
To me the idea of individuality is non-existent. Theoretically,
we talk about individuals. It sounds marvellous, but actually,
are we individuals or repetitive machines? When we look at
ourselves, deeply, seriously, are we individuals? If I may point
out, either we discuss in abstraction, in theory, or we are
concerned with revolution, a psychological revolution. A
revolution, mutation, a deep radical change in man lies in his
consciousness. Can that consciousness be transformed? That is
the real question.
P.J.: If you are speaking of the actual state as it is, each one
of us sees within us an individual consciousness separate from
the consciousness of another. We have to start with what
actually is. And when we talk of a crisis in society and in man,
the two being in a sense interchangeable, we realize that we are
society. The problem then arises: How does one come to the
realization of whether one is an individual or not? How does one
proceed? Does one proceed through knowledge or through the
negation of knowledge? And if there is negation of knowledge,
what are the instruments required for negation?
K: One has to ask what is one's consciousness made up of, what
is its content?
P.K.S.: When you say individual consciousness, are you referring
to the individual mind?
K: No, sir, I asked what is one's consciousness. Apparently, in
that consciousness there is a deep crisis. Or is it asleep,
pressurized or totally industrialized, as Dr. Illich says, by
the guru industrialization, so that we are just non-existent, we
just survive? I would like to ask, is one aware of one's total
consciousness, not partial, not fragmentary, but the totality of
one's own existence which is the result of society, culture,
family name? And what is the origin of all thinking? That may be
the beginning of our consciousness.
What is my consciousness? My consciousness is made up of
culture, ideas, traditions, propaganda, etc. The content makes
up consciousness. Without content, there is no consciousness. If
there is, it is a totally different dimension, and one can only
apprehend or come upon that consciousness when the content is
wiped away. So one has to be clear about what one is discussing:
whether one is discussing theoretically or by taking up one's
own consciousness and investigating it. That is the challenge.
N. T.: Is consciousness part of our experience?
K: Absolutely.
N. T.: If it is part of our experience, is it not
individualistic?
K: Is your experience individual?
N.T.: The experience concerns oneself only.
K: What does that word `experience' mean to you?
N.T.: To experience is to feel; it is feeling.
K: No. The content, the structure, the semantic meaning of that
word is `to go through'. But we go through and make what we have
gone through into knowledge.
N.T.: This `going through' is individualistic, is it not?
K: Is it individualistic to experience? If I am a Hindu or
Buddhist or Christian, I experience what I have been told. That
is not individuality. If I am a devout orthodox Catholic, I
experience Virgin Mary and I think it is my personal experience.
It is not; it is the result of two thousand years of propaganda.
S.P.: You seem to suggest that the word itself means indivisible
and also, thereby, that any experience is a denial of
individuality.
K: I did not say that.
S.P.: It is implied. Any experience, personal or collective,
whether out of collective consciousness or personal
consciousness, and the multiplicity of experiences put together
create the feeling of the individual in each human being. This
cannot be denied.
K: Of course. But if I may ask, what is the function of the
brain?
I.I.: But would you consider it disrespectful if I use the noun
in English and say I have knowledge of Krishnamurti? I have
knowledge of you, but I don't know you.
K: Can I ever say `I know you'? When we use the word
`knowledge', we are using it in so many categories, so many
complicated ways. I am using it in a very simple way - I know
you, I recognise you, because I met you last year. But do I
know, however intimately, my wife? I have slept with her, she
has borne my children, but do I actually know her? That is, I do
not know her because I have an image of her. I create all kinds
of sexual sensory pictures and those pictures prevent me from
knowing her, though I am very intimate with her physically. So I
can never say to myself, I know somebody. I think that it is a
sacrilege, an impudence. I know you the moment I have no
barriers, no pictures of you as an individual, as a Doctor of
Linguistics. So, if I approach you with a sense of compassion,
in the deep sense of that word, then there is no knowing, there
is only sharing.
I.I.. I have to accept that, as the word `compassion' is used
here.
K: Compassion means passion for all.
A.P.: But do we know ourselves? That is the ultimate question.
K: That's it, sir. Do we know ourselves, and how do we know
ourselves? What is the manner of knowing oneself?
A.P.: The problem here is our incapacity to know ourselves
directly, to deal with it with a compassionate response. When I
see a cyclone in Andhra Pradesh, I feel personally involved
because it is happening in the state in which I am living. When
I read about a cyclone in Bangladesh, it is just an item of news
for me. Now, when we say one world, it does not actually become
experiential for us. This is really a part of the alienation
process - alienation being a name to the fact that we do not
know ourselves. Because we do not know ourselves, our
relationship with the world also is a more distant relationship.
P.J.: Let me put it this way. Is it a question of learning what
the instruments of learning are? The deep-seated instruments of
knowing are seeing, listening, feeling and learning. The probing
into the significance of these instruments itself may throw some
light not only on the nature of the instruments but also on the
manner in which these instruments have been perverted to block
their real function.
K: Sir, would you agree that instead of using consciousness as a
noun, you use it as a movement of time?
I.I.: I would accept it for discussion, but then, if I may
comment, I live in a world where I see a beautiful sunset as a
picture postcard. I have made a complete study on the use of
words. I found that one of the ten words heard by the typical
person was a word heard as a member of a crowd, as public. And
nine out of ten were words spoken to him or overheard by him
while spoken to another. Today, for example, nine out of ten
words heard by young people, according to this study, are words
which have been programmed and only one is a personal word. I
heard recently from a lady who wrote that she has taken credits
for nineteen hours of consciousness. I am just saying -
everything in this culture in which I live is industrialized. It
is an additive way of education.
P.J.: That is really the problem of knowledge - the additive
process.
I.I.: The danger of knowledge, not as a flow but as an additive
process, makes me standardized.
K: Sir, what is the relationship of consciousness to thought?
What is the beginning of thought? How does that come into
existence? What is the spring from which thought arises? There
is perception, sensation, contact, then thought, desire and
imagination involved in that. That is the origin of desire. So,
is that the origin of thought, the beginning of thought, the
movement of thought?
P.J.: Is not thought the reaction to challenge?
K: Yes. If I see the challenge, if I am aware of the challenge.
If I am not aware, there is no challenge.
P.J.: What is the reaction to challenge?
K: Memory reacts.
R.B.: But for thought to be aware of itself as a trap, is it
necessary to see the origin of thought?
K: Yes. Then you only register that which is absolutely
necessary and not psychological structures. Why should I
register your flattery or your insult? But I do. That
registration emphasizes the ego.
S.P.: What is that state of mind in which registration does not
take place?
K: You see, that is a theoretical question.
S.P.: No. It is an actual problem. Otherwise one is in a trap.
There is memory responding, and memory itself is registered even
before I am aware.
K: Then you are acting on reward and punishment.
R.B.: Registering by long habit is so instantaneous. How can we
learn to slow down the whole process?
K: Have you ever tried writing down objectively every thought,
not just those which are pleasant or unpleasant - I don't like
that man, I like that woman, the whole business? Then you will
find that you can slow down thought tremendously. Sir, my
question is, why do we register psychologically at all? Is it
possible to register only that which is absolutely, physically,
necessary and not build up the psyche through registration?
I.I.: I only know that by becoming older and working at it, one
can cut down on registration.
K: But that has nothing to do with age...
I.I.: It has to do with living.
K: That means it is a slow `process'. I object to that.
I.I.: That's all I know. Sometimes one has the experience of a
flash, lifting you to another level, being transformed, even
like a phoenix from the ashes.
K: Is it possible to accelerate the non-registering process that
does not depend upon age, circumstances, environment, poverty,
riches, culture? Can one see, have an insight into, the whole
question of registration and end it psychologically?
I.I.: I have to be corrected by you. It seems to me that there
are several very great and very small schools, each projecting,
suggesting, a certain way.
K: And then we are back to systems.
I.I.: I said I stand to be corrected. I would imagine that these
offer us a ladder. Some ladders are too short for the level
which some people have to reach, while others are so long that
we can jump off the ladder earlier than the ladder ends. This is
not for all, but for some people they are rather useful in the
beginning. I can even imagine that they are useful in many
instances - wisdom not to choose, not to search, during their
whole life for the best ladder but to take one which does the
job which luckily I have at my disposal.
K: But I question whether it is a gradual movement.
I.I.: My school, my institution, my language, say to me the
development of the gifts of the spirit are like the riverside of
this struggle for virtue. At certain moments we must struggle,
practise what you spoke of as virtue. But moments come in when
suddenly a bubble comes and I am lifted out of my yesterday as
if for ever. That does not mean my life must go on in the same
direction to struggle again, but I do go back. I do know that
there are some schools of thought, perhaps equally consistent,
useful, for others where this will be considered very
differently.
K: If I may say so sir, there are no schools. One sees the
logical reason of registration, the necessity of physical
registration. If one sees clearly, has an insight into the
psychological futility of registration, realizes it, it is
finished. It is as thought if you see danger, a precipice, it is
over. In the same way, if one profoundly sees the danger of
psychological registration, then the thing is finished.
I.I.: Is it not possible that for some people enlightenment
comes in several ways? The Arabs have seven words for seven
states, and for others it comes bang like sunrise, the sun comes
out and there it is.
K: I don't think it is a matter for the few or for the many. How
do you listen? You tell me there are schools, degrees and I
accept that. And another comes along and tells me it is not at
all like that and I reject it because of my conditioning.
Whereas, if I listened to him and to you, I can see with clarity
that in the very act of listening, I have understood the
implications of both statements. Do you understand? The
listening itself frees me from both of you.
Part 2
2nd Seminar Madras
14th January 1978
Insights into Regeneration
P.J.: Could we discuss regeneration, its nature, and whether it
is essential to man? And if it is essential to man and society
then what is the place of self-knowing in this whole field?
A.P.: The importance of our discussions so far has been to
establish the limits of knowledge. I feel that the relevance of
knowledge to the entire process of self-knowing has already been
outlined in limits of growth, limits of knowledge.
P.J.: Is knowledge and its limits dependent on the process of
self-knowing? The problem of regeneration is not contained in
the limits of knowledge; the latter is only one of the factors
of regeneration. Self-knowing is also integral to it. Are these
two independent?
A.P.: Our approach has been to negate that which appeared to
assume preponderant importance in our own development. It takes
the form of pursuit of knowledge, a very subtle process which
goes on inhibiting, distracting or distorting the mind from
direct confrontation.
P.J.: We are familiar with the additive process. In a sense the
additive process is the extension of the field of knowledge. I
am talking of knowledge as information. Are we talking of the
limits of knowledge, independent of self-knowing or
regeneration?
A.P.: Of course not.
P.K.S.: The problem of the regeneration of man is mostly
connected with the limits of knowledge. We assume knowledge is
information, not that kind of experience which is self-knowing,
and we are asking, what can we know? The question also concerns
the origins of knowledge.
K: I don't know what you mean by regeneration - to be made anew,
made afresh? We are talking about the transformation of man, the
ending of his anxiety - his whole way of life; a life which is
ugly - and out of that ending, a new thing being born. Is that
what we mean by regeneration? If that is so, what is the
relationship between knowledge and regeneration? Is knowledge a
fixed point? Is it static, additive? Is the process of
self-knowledge additive and does it, thereby, bring about
regeneration? Is that what we are asking? Can knowledge which is
accumulative, probably infinite, bring about regeneration? Then
there is the understanding of oneself, the `Know Thyself'. The
Hindus have said it, the Buddhists have said it in a different
way, all religions have said it. Is that knowing yourself
additive? Is the very substance of the self, knowledge, knowing
being experience stored up as memory, all the things man has
accumulated? What is it we are asking?
Can we begin with the question, `Can I know myself?' Not
according to some philosophers, but can I know myself? I would
like to examine the word `to know'. Dr. Illich pointed out
yesterday, `I have knowledge of you but I don't know you.' I
have knowledge in the sense that I have met you, and so on. I
have knowledge of you but can I ever know you? In the same way,
I have knowledge about myself, limited knowledge, fragmentary
knowledge, knowledge brought about by time. But can I know
myself fundamentally, irrevocably?
R.B.: What do you mean `irrevocably'?
K: A tree is a tree; it is irrevocable. A pear tree does not
become an apple tree.
A.P.: This is where my difficulty arises. Even with regard to
knowing oneself, verbalizing has a very important place. If that
is taken away, will we have the capacity to know anything?
I.I.: I am asking the same question. Knowledge, insight, which
comes in a flash and can be interpreted logically later on, can
be referred to in words; is that knowledge in your terminology?
A.P.: The channel of insight may be non-verbal but our normal
movement is perceiving and naming, and with naming comes
recognition and what we call knowledge. So, actually, naming
plays a preponderant part in knowledge. Self-knowledge may be in
the field of insight.
K: Are you asking if there is no verbalization, whether the `me'
exists at all? I would say if verbalization does not exist, the
self, the `me', the ego, ceases, comes to an end. Can there be a
knowing that the word is not the thing? The word is not the
thing, obviously. The word `tree' is not the actual fact. So if
there is no verbalization, then what is the fact, what remains?
Is it still the self?
P.J.: How does one answer this?
A.P.: You have jumped.
G.N.: There are forms of knowledge akin to insight and some
forms of insight which cannot be converted into knowledge
through the additive process. The way one approaches it is very
significant. Some types of knowledge have the taste of insight
but they get reduced to knowledge.
K.: We said we understood the meaning, the significance, of
regeneration. How is man to regenerate, completely renew
himself, like a phoenix? Does he depend on environment - social,
economical? Or has regeneration as knowing nothing whatever to
do with environmental pressures? We must go into that. We will
come to a different kind of knowledge presently. Do we agree on
the meaning of regeneration as a total, psychological, profound,
revolution, in the sense that something new is born out of it?
Now, is knowing oneself the central factor of regeneration? If
that is so, then how am I to know myself - knowing that the word
is not the thing, the description is not the described? If there
is no verbalization, then what next? You have cut away, if you
don't verbalize, the whole area of morality, ethics. To us words
have become very important. Take the word violence; if I don't
use that word and am free from verbalization with all its
significance, what remains?
Sir, why do I verbalize? I verbalize my feeling for you because
I want to communicate to you.
A.P.: Also with myself. That is the greatest danger.
K: I am coming to that. First I verbalize what I feel to myself
and then I verbalize to communicate.
A.P.: In this there is a big trap. I feel the phenomenon of
sorrow. I see somebody in pain, I can express that without
feeling compassion in my heart. I live on words. Therefore,
words are my biggest protection and they also become a barrier
to self-knowledge. Unless I am able to deal with words, I cannot
move. The human brain stores images, creates images, symbols,
etc.
K: Does it mean all our relationships - intellectual, sexual,
between two human beings - are based on words, images, pictures?
Is there thinking without verbalization? When I say to somebody
I love you, do the words convey what I feel? The words are not
the thing, but they need to be expressed and I use the words as
a medium of communication. Now we are asking, how is man to
regenerate himself without any cause, without any motive,
without any influence of the environment - social, political,
moral, religious. I think we ought to settle that and then
proceed. What do you say, Dr. Illich?
I.I.: I would like to ask you a question. Are words also part of
the environment?
K: Yes.
I.I.: Therefore, when I use words, I also do something to the
environment, besides being influenced by it.
K: The word is also the environment and the word influences my
thinking. If I am born in this particular part of the country,
my whole cultural, development, progress, is based on this
culture. The language itself is affecting me; it may be a
barrier between you and me.
I.I.: Like anything it can destroy two people.
K: So, realizing that language can also become a barrier, I cut
it. It is finished. I use it only to communicate.
I.I.: Is there anything within me which has not been affected by
language in the same way as my body is affected by breathing? Is
there a point somewhere in me which the environment has not
touched?
K: Do you see what is happening, sir? We are already in
communication with each other. Your question, `Is there
something in this ``me'' which is not affected, touched, shaped,
moulded by the environment' has already put us in communication.
The Hindus say there is something. Dr. Illich wants to know if
there is in `me' the structure of existence which is the `me',
some spot, something which is not shaped, moulded, contaminated,
pressurized by the environment. You are a scholar, a pundit -
what would be your answer?
P.K.S.: Those parts which are supposed to be affected by
language, etc. are only the psychological `me'. That is the
empirical development of the ego. But even before the
development of the empirical ego, there should be a basis for
this development. Otherwise language as environment would be
futile. The word as environment affects me. It is not brought
about after it has been affected by the environment; rather
something is there already which is supposed to be affected.
Now, if there is something prior to being affected by the
environment, what is its character, can it be increased or
decreased by the environment? If you believe that the
environment makes the self, at the same time pre-supposing
something which is prior to the influence of language, you are
contradicting yourself. I think something exists prior to the
environment affecting it.
K: I don't quite follow you.
R.B.: Prof. Sundaram says there is a substratum, essential
nature, on which thought builds, the psychological, the
empirical, `me'. Therefore, logically, there is an area which is
unaffected by thought.
K: So you are saying that there is in me, in my existence, in my
life, an uncontaminated, unshaped state. Does that satisfy you?
I.I.: I accept your words, I won't use other terms, and yet,
since it cannot be affected by language, I can only speak in
negative terms. This particular spot, something which is light,
which throws sparks, is yet something about which there is no
proof, that I can grasp. And when I speak about it, I dare to
capture it in a word. Would you accept that?
K: I don't think so, sir.
P.J.: How do we explore this then? How do I find out whether one
statement or the other is real?
K: May I put it differently? I don't even ask that question, `Is
there something in me which is not shaped by the environment?'
All that I know is, unless a human being finds the springs of
regeneration, and not the idea, the new is not possible. So my
concern, then, is the word `environment', culture, society - all
that is `me' and I am the product of all that. I am the entire
product of all influences - religious, psychological, social.
Regeneration is possible only when the influences from the
outside or the influences which I am creating as a reaction come
to an end. Then I can answer it. Until then I can only
speculate. So I begin. I say it is absolutely necessary as a
human being to bring about a revolution in the whole structure.
Not at the biological level, because I can't grow a third arm;
but is there a possibility of a total regeneration? You tell me
`Know yourself,' that is, to have knowledge about yourself. I
see the danger of knowledge, knowledge being accumulative,
progressive, dependent on the environment and so on. Therefore,
I understand the limitations of knowledge. I say to myself, I
have understood this. So when I use the words `know myself', I
see that knowledge, when verbalized, may be the cause which
prevents me from enquiring deeply into myself. So I ask, can my
brain, my mind, my whole structure, be free of words?
A.P.: I think this is where the limits of knowledge lead you.
K: Achyutji, you are missing the point. We have said knowledge
is accumulative. Knowing myself may not be accumulative at all.
A.P.: Verbalization is the quintessence of knowing.
K: Can I use the word `knowledge' where necessary and in my
enquiry be free of the word? Is that possible?
S.P.: Are you saying there is an enquiry without the word?
K: That's it.
A.P.: When we enquire, the word is inevitable and it is an
obstacle.
K: Obviously. Dr. Illich's difficulty is, we are using a
language which he is not used to. To us knowledge means
something and to him it means something else. And he says, I
don't follow you. So we must establish a linguistic, semantic
communication.
So I come to the point that I don't know the substratum, the
foundation on which `I am'. I won't pre-suppose anything; I
won't accept any authority including my own hope. So I ask, how
am I to enquire into myself, what is the movement, the `I am',
to know yourself? Not to have knowledge of yourself?
P.J.: Could you explain a little more the distinction between
knowledge of myself and knowing myself?
K: I have knowledge of myself through my reactions, my feelings,
through my responses to another in my relationship. I have been
jealous, sensuous, angry. These are all reactions, but it is
much more than that. All that I know is based on verbalization.
I say I have been jealous; the word jealousy, with all its
connotations prevents observation of that feeling which I have
named as jealousy. So is it possible to observe without the
word? Can there be only the feeling without the word, the word
being the environment?
There is feeling. In that feeling is the observer. In that there
is division. That is, is the observer different from the
observed? He divides the two. I am different from the thing
observed. But in observing myself so long as the word is
associated with the thing I am observing, it distorts the
observation. So I ask, can I observe, be aware of the feeling,
without naming it?
Can I just observe? Can there be only observation without
identification with the word? If so, we remove altogether all
division as the opposite. So I eliminate one of the traditional
factors that this division brings about - me and jealousy - and,
therefore, observation is not verbal; there is only observation.
A.P.: I have not come to that.
K: Then how shall we communicate with each other? You have not
wiped out the word. You have said verbalization is the barrier.
How am I to tell you of that central factor in which there is no
conflict, only observation?
P.J.: Can one wipe out the word? How does one wipe out the word?
K: I realize the word is not the thing. That is a deep
understanding. When I say I love you, it is not just a word; it
is beyond the word. Therefore, I am not caught in the word. I
cannot wipe it out; words are necessary to communicate. But I am
saying one eradicates it in oneself or it falls away when one
sees the observer is the observed, the thinker is the thought,
the experiencer is the experienced. Division comes to an end
totally and, therefore, conflict comes to an end.
A.P.: It is like the halting of the traffic light. I say that
verbal communication stops like a traffic light and comes back
again.
K: Are you saying, I see this for an instant but then I am back
again in the old grooves?
R.B.: Can we put it another way? You mentioned jealousy. There
may be a movement of jealousy, and if one watches it without the
word, at that moment there is an abeyance of that thing. In
self-knowing, there is not only the movement of jealousy but of
an enormous content which has been built up. How is one to catch
the whole thing without the word?
K: Do you realize, actually, not theoretically, that the word is
not the thing?
R.B.: I do realize it at certain moments.
K: That is not realization. It is like danger, like a bus
hurtling down on you.
R.B.: We are all conditioned to mix the two. It is a
longstanding thing. I can say that at this moment the word is
not the thing.
K: No, it is the eternal truth. If that is so, and the word
`jealousy' is not the state, can we look at jealousy without the
word? Without all the association of the word? Look at it as
though you were looking at it for the first time and not bring
in all the associations connected with it? That requires great
alertness, awareness. It has its own extraordinary discipline,
it is uninfluenced. We are concerned with regeneration - whether
a human being, without outside influence, can bring about this
extraordinary quality of regeneration in his brain, his mind,
his feeling.
To understand that deeply, you must `know yourself'. So I ask,
what is the word `know' apart from knowledge? You are already
limiting it by saying, `I know.' Now, can I observe myself
without the word, language, knowledge or recognition? Do you
understand? I watch myself, and I am watching without analysis.
I have this feeling of jealousy; it arises. There is an instant
reaction, a verbalization of that feeling, which means I have
brought into it the remembrance of that which has happened
before and so I recognise it. If there is no recognition, then
it is something new and that is the beginning of regeneration.
A.P.: I notice in observing, the arising of recognition through
the word, and I say it is the word which is giving stability to
what I am observing because I am not different from that which I
am observing.
R.B.: But Krishnaji is saying there is no recognition because
memory is eliminated and, therefore, the new is there.
K: You say, `know yourself.' But how am I to know myself,
observe what I am? Do I bring into that observation past
memories, the hurts, the remembrances, and with those memories
look at myself? That is my point. If I bring in these memories,
then I am not looking, memories are looking, and memories are in
action.
Can there be an abeyance, can I put memories aside and observe?
That may be the factor of regeneration because in that
observation there is a breaking away from the past.
S.P.: Once for all?
K: That is greed. Look at it. I want to know myself because
otherwise I have no foundation for anything. I know the limits
of words. There is an observation of the word and an observation
of the limits of knowledge. I see that when I use the words
`know myself', I have already put it in a cup, blanketed it. So
I don't use those words. Is there an observation of the movement
of the self without the word, without recognition, without the
previous experience which in observation distorts what is
happening?
I.I.: I can't, truly, humanly, look without being totally myself
in looking. And, therefore, I can put the word in abeyance. But
at times I need crutches.
K: The moment you use the words `I need crutches', you will need
them.
I.I.: I accept your criticism of the word `need'. Now and then I
find myself using crutches, and I won't, for this reason,
despair.
K: Achyutji, you were speaking of the red traffic light that
stops you for the moment. Can all the past stop? But it is so
strong that it comes back. Dr. Illich also says the same thing,
that he needs crutches at moments.
To know myself is very important. I see the limitations of
knowledge, I see very, very clearly that the very word `know' is
a dangerous word in the sense that it has tremendous
associations with knowledge. So what have I left? I have
understood the limitations of knowledge, I also see the
Anglo-European word `feeling' and the danger of that word
because I can invent a lot of feeling and a whole lot of froth.
So I can also see the limitations of that. And at the end of
this, where am I?
I started out with regeneration, came to the limitations of
knowledge, the limitations of feeling, the dangers associated
with that and, at the end of it, I ask, `Do I know myself?' For,
`myself' is the limitation of knowledge, limitation of the word
`to know', the feeling and the entity who says I have to get rid
of this and asks, `Who am I?' All this is the self, with its
associations, with all the extravagant, fragmentary things
involved in it. At the end of it, where am I?
I can honestly then say with genuine affirmation - in the sense
that I am not inventing it - that I am not accepting the
authority of somebody else, that there is nothing to know. Which
does not mean there is something else. All that I can say is
there is nothing, which means there is not a thing, which means
not a single movement of thought. So there is an ending, a
stopping, to thought. There is not a thing. On that we have
built all this - my attachments, my beliefs, my fears. On this
nothing, everything is. Therefore that is unreal; this is real.
So I have found a key to regeneration, the key being emptying
the mind of all the past which is knowledge, the limitations of
knowing, feelings and the content of my feelings. Would you call
this meditation?
I.I.: When I do it for myself, yes.
K: Myself is a word.
I.I.: When I do it, yes.
K: Is that doing progressive or immediate?
I.I.: It seems to be immediate and not progressive.
K: That is right, keep it there.
I.I.: But I agree there is a temptation to make it progressive,
to transform it again into something you want.
K: What does the word temptation mean? One of our difficulties
is that we see all this intellectually and then make an
abstraction of it, which is an idea, a conclusion, and then work
with the conclusion. Have I really understood deeply the
limitations of knowledge, knowledge meaning institutions,
systems, everything?
I would like to ask you, is there a regeneration taking place?
Forgive me if I put you in a corner. We have all listened and
say, this is true. I see regeneration is tremendously important.
Have I captured it, tasted it, has it a perfume? Have I got it?
Not in the sense of holding it. If we have not, then what are we
all talking about? Are we merely ploughing in sand and never
sowing? Dr. Illich, are we in communication with each other
linguistically?
I.I.: I think so. May I ask a question? I don't want to seem
impudent. When you ask the question, is there a regeneration
going on, I wanted to answer! I listen very attentively to the
crow up there on the tree.
K. Yes sir. I have also been listening to it.
Part 3
2nd Seminar Madras
14th January 1978
Insights into Regeneration
P.J.: Could we discuss the problem of the sorrow of man, the
nature of compassion and meditation? I feel we are in a trap:
being in sorrow and not understanding the nature of compassion.
K: May I ask, what are your ideas or concepts about sorrow,
meditation and love?
A.P.: Sorrow is an inescapable part of life. We are helpless
victims when a part of humanity is forced to live a subhuman
life, with no hope of change in their way of life. Unless one
sees some affirmative process, one feels completely lost.
P.J.: You can't talk about the sorrow of another.
A.P.: But it is my sorrow. I am not talking about another's.
P.J.: Sorrow is something integral to one.
A.P.: I am talking about sorrow. It is integral. Nothing can be
more integral than the fact that there is no compassion in me as
an authentic response. When I witness the sorrow of another, I
am part of that sorrow.
K: Sir, is there such a thing as my sorrow, your sorrow and his
sorrow?
P.J.: Sorrow is not a concept, not an idea. It is deeply in me.
K: I wonder what we mean by the word `sorrow'. Let us go slowly,
because it is rather important. What do we mean by sorrow,
grief, pain? Every human being goes through this ugly business
of sorrow. Some people think that it is a cleansing process, an
enlightening process. Some give explanations which appear to
satisfy them - you did something in the past, you are paying for
it now. Strip away all these words; what remains is the
actuality, the feeling of sorrow; not the word; not the
connotation of that word, not the evocation of the images that
word brings up. Now, what is this deep feeling that we call
sorrow? My son dies, and there is a tremendous feeling. Is that
sorrow?
P.J.: It is sorrow.
K: In that is involved self-pity, loneliness, a sudden
realization that I have lost somebody and I am left alone. I
suffer because he has not lived as long as I have lived and so
on. But the root of this enormous sorrow is what man has carried
through timeless centuries.
P.K.S.: As a preliminary definition of the word `sorrow', not
the connotative definition, what is actually felt when you are
in sorrow? I think there is some sense of privation, a want, and
this produces a state of mind, a pang which is called sorrow. In
it is a sense of limitation, finitude, helplessness.
A.P.: If I may suggest, we human beings know pain, physical
pain. Physical pain is a condition which we have to accept; we
can do nothing about it. Sorrow is the exact equal of that -
psychologically; that is, we are totally unable to do anything
about it. We have to just take it and be with it.
K: Sir, you meet the poor people next door, you have great
sympathy for them. Perhaps you may feel guilty because you get
used to their poverty, their endless degradation. Perhaps you
may have great affection for them. Would you call the fact, man
living in this appalling way, sorrow?
I.I.: I do. I, at least, know that there are different kinds of
sorrow in my life. One of them is that sorrow of which we speak:
sorrow when I do something violent to somebody else, which takes
away from somebody else. I live in society. So many things I
cannot undertake without taking away big chunks from others. For
instance, tomorrow morning I take the jet plane from Madras to
Delhi and on this plane which I take for my benefit, I have
calculated that I will grab out of the atmosphere more oxygen
than a little herd of elephants from birth to their death can
breathe. I will be co-responsible for an exploitation of many
thousands of Indians, each one who in a sensible way pays his
taxes and lives in a world dominated by the planes so that some
of us can have that sense of importance of flying in a jet
today. I do something which if I didn't, I would have to
radically, totally change the way I live. I have not yet decided
to make that change. In fact, I create for myself legitimate
reasons by word-constructions for taking that plane, and in this
sense I feel a very particular kind of sorrow which is the one
about which I would want you to enlighten me most.
K: We will discuss it, sir. As you said, there are different
kinds of sorrow. There is your kind, what you described; then
there is somebody losing a son, a father and mother; seeing
appalling ignorance, and seeing that there is no hope for man in
a country like this. And there is the sorrow, the deep agony of
realizing you are nothing. There is also the sorrow of how man
treats man and so on. Now, what does all this sorrow mean?
According to Christian terms or Hindu terms, is there an end to
sorrow or is it an everlasting thing? Is there an end to any
sorrow at all?
I.I.: Certainly there is no end to this sorrow as long as I am
willing to participate in violence.
K: Then I shut myself up. If I narrow down my life, `I won't do
this, I don't do that,' then I would not be able to move at all.
For myself I have faced this. I can see from what you say, that
we exploit people. So what can I do? Before I answer, before we
can discuss that question, could we ask what is love? Perhaps it
may solve the problem and answer this question.
I am asking what is love. Biologically, life is reproduction and
all the rest of it. Is that love? I would like to go into it, if
you don't mind; then, perhaps, we shall be able to answer the
fundamental question, which is, whatever I do at present causes
some kind of sorrow to another. The very clothes I wear is
making somebody work for me. So I would like to approach this
question from a different angle. The word `love' is loaded;
misused, vulgarized, sexualized, anything you like. What then is
love, because that may answer this gradual inaction that arises
when I say, `I can't do this; if I do this, I am depriving
somebody of that, I am exploiting somebody,' and out of that
comes sorrow; perhaps we can have a dialogue about this feeling
of love.
Do I love my wife? Sir, let us go into it a little bit because
this may resolve our problems of sorrow, exploitation, using
other people, narrowing down our lives. I am trying to prevent
myself from being reduced to narrow activity. So I want to ask
this question, is everything biological? Is my love for my wife
biological?
R. Krishnaswamy: Yes.
K: Would you say that to your wife?
K.S.: Yes, sir.
K: I am not being rude. I am not being personal. Then you are
reducing it to a purely sensory reaction.
K.S.: Yes, it begins like that and then we begin to verbalize
it, romanticize it.
K: Yes, it begins there and then you build up the picture, the
image. Is that it?
K.S.: I think that is true. The primitive man, the hunter, did
not have any of these problems which we are facing now. Is my
love for my child also this? Is this an extreme form of
selfishness, because we want to perpetuate ourselves?
K: You are saying, sir, that this state is not only biological,
it is sensory. Sensory love may begin with desire, desire being
seeing, perception, contact, sensation, thought, the image and
desire; that is the process. You are saying love is desire, it
is biological. I want to find out whether love exists at all
apart from the sensory, apart from desire, attachment, jealousy
and, therefore, hate. Is that love? If I told my wife it is all
sensory, and if she is at all intelligent, she would throw
something at me. We have reduced love to such a limited, ugly
thing. Therefore, we don't love.
Love implies much more than the word. It implies a great deal of
beauty. It does not rest in the woman I love, but in the very
feeling of love, which implies a relationship with nature, love
of stars, the earth, stones, the stray dog, all that, and also
the love of my wife. If you reduce it to desire and sensation,
if you call it a biological movement, then it becomes a tawdry
affair. Your wife treats you, and you treat her, as a biological
necessity. Is that love? So I am asking, is desire, pleasure,
love? Is sexual comfort love?
I.I.: Is love communion?
K: How can I commune with another if I have an image of her?
I.I.: An image may be an obstacle to communion?
K: Can I be free of the image I have of you, of my wife, of the
professor, doctor and so on? Only then is there a possibility of
communion. I don't have to use words.
I.I.: And love, perhaps, is free communion?
K: I would not like to say so, yet. We will come to it
presently.
P.K.S.: In a fundamental sense, love is the opposite of desire.
What I mean is, desire insists on getting. Love insists on
giving.
K: You see, sir, you are categorizing, conceptualizing, you have
already put it in a cage.
P.K.S.: I only wanted to suggest that love is not merely
biological; it is much more than that. It is giving, a
sacrifice.
K: Sir, if I have a wife, what is my relationship to her apart
from sexual, apart from attachment, apart from all the rest of
the traditional meanings of relationship? Am I really related to
the lady?
Relationship means to be in contact at all levels, not just the
physical level which is desire, pleasure. Does it not imply,
when I say, `I love you,' and I mean it, that you and I meet at
the same level, meet with the same intensity, at the same
moment?
I.I.: Yes.
K: That happens apparently only sexually, at the biological
level. I question this whole approach to life, life in which
there is this immense thing called love. Now, are we not
concerned to find out what it is? Does not your heart, mind, say
that you have to find out? Or, is everything reduced to a verbal
level?
N. T.: If love is sensual pleasure and based on the pursuit of
desire, it is not love; love has to be based on compassion.
K: But what is compassion?
N.T.: Compassion itself is love.
K: Sir, you have freedom with words.
N.T.: Love is universal.
K: I want to find out, I want to have this sense of love. As a
human being it is like breathing; I must have it.
N.T.: That sense of love is universal, not moved by desire.
K: All right sir, don't think me impudent, don't think me rude.
Have you got that love, or is this just theory?
N.T.: It does not arise in the human mind.
K: That is verbalizing it. I want to know as a human being, do
you love anybody?
N. T.: Not through a possessive type of love.
K: Oh, no. You are all theorizing.
N.T.: No, sir.
K: You are a priest, you are a monk; I come to you and say,
please, for god's sake, let me have the perfume of that which is
called love. And you say love is compassion, compassion is love,
you go around it.
N.T.: Love in the absolute sense is present in all human beings.
K: Is it there when you kill somebody, when Stalin kills twenty
million people, when India fights Pakistan? Is there love in
every human being?
N.T.: Love is there in every human being.
K: If there were love in every human being, do you think India
would be like this - held in poverty, degradation, dishonesty,
corruption? What are you all talking about?
Prof. Subramaniam: Sir, if love means being related to another
person at all levels, when I don't understand myself and when I
don't love myself, how is it possible to love another? I am not
talking about self-love. I don't find that I am relating myself
at all levels to myself. When that is so, I realize that I am
not related to another person, whether it is my wife or another,
at all levels.
K: So, as a human being, don't you want to come upon this, don't
you want to find out? Don't you want to have a sense of this
great thing? Unless you have it, I don't see the point of all
these discussions, pujas, and all that is going on in this
country.
R.B.: I think the point is that when there is no relatedness
inside oneself, when there are warring elements within oneself,
there can't be love.
K: Sir, I would rather put the question this way: If this thing,
love, is merely a biological process and one sees it even
intellectually as a shoddy little affair, and a human being has
never had this perfume, don't you want to find out this love,
this state of passion; don't you want to drink at that
extraordinary fountain? Or have we mesmerized ourselves verbally
so that we have become incapable of any movement outside the
field of our own particular verbalization? The Christians, Dr.
Illich will tell you much more easily than I, have said, `Love
Jesus, love Christ, love your neighbour as you would love
yourself,' and so on. I question that any religious
approximation or dictum is love. One may go to the church, one
may go to the temple and love god, if god exists. Is that love?
R.B.: Sir, you started with the question of what is sorrow and
followed it up with the question of what is love. Could you say
what is the relationship between the two questions?
K: Is love this constant battle, words, theories and living at
that level? I personally can't imagine any human being not
having this love. If he does not have it, he is dead.
A.P.: Is that not the crux of the problem of regeneration?
K: Yes, sir. If you haven't got love, how can you regenerate
anything? If you don't look after the plant that you have just
put in the earth, if you don't give it water, air, proper
nourishment, affection, see that there is plenty of light, the
plant won't grow. Let us leave love for the moment. Shall we go
into what is meditation?
P.J.: Without comprehending sorrow and love, we cannot know what
is meditation.
R.B.: But is that itself not the problem? Millions of people are
not even asking what is love.
I.I.: Is it, perhaps, also something so secret, hidden,
personal? But it is so different because of its being concrete
in each one of us. You spoke about our loving each other, some
kind of close existence.
K: Sir, I can belong to a community, a commune, and then feel
close to the others because we are there at the same time.
I.I.: Yes, but that has nothing to do with it.
K: Yes.
I.I.: But somewhere at the very deepest level, the marvellous,
glorious thing which I believe makes for love is that, your life
and my life at that moment are both made sacred, the forms of
renewal of mutual presence.
K: Forgive me, I wouldn't say that. I would say: When there is
love, there is no `you' or `me,.
I.I.: Sir, that could be easily understood. I know you don't
mean it that way, but love is a symbiosis.
K: No.
I.I.: There is no `you' and there is no `me', but on the other
hand, there is more of you and more of me.
K: Sir, when there is great beauty like a mountain, the majesty
of it, the beauty of it, the shade, the light, `you' don't
exist. The beauty of that thing drives away the `you'. Do you
follow what I am saying?
I.I.: I follow what you are saying.
K: At that moment, when there is no `me' because of the majesty
of the hill, there is only that sense of great wondering glowing
beauty. So, I say: Beauty is when I am not, with my problem,
with my gods, with my biological love and all the rest of it.
When I am not, the other is.
I.I.: And yet - correct me if I am wrong - at that moment the
transparent flame is burning higher and the stream of life is
clearer, fresher, and the renewal of this world goes on.
K: At that moment there is a new rejuvenation taking place, if
you like to put it that way. I am putting it this way, that
there is a sense of an otherness than me.
I.I.: Yes. That otherness implies...
K: The otherness is not the opposite.
P.J.: May I then ask, what is it that makes the spring, the
stream flow?
K: I have seen the birth of the great river right in the hills.
It starts with a few drops and then collects, and then there is
a roaring stream at the end of it. Is that love?
P.J.: What is it that makes the stream flow fully?
K: I come to you and say, `Look, I don't know what love is,
please teach me, help me, or let me learn what love is.' I say,
attachment is not love, the mere biological pleasure with all
its movements, with all its implications, is not love. So can
you be free of attachment, negate it completely? Through
negation you may come to the positive, but we won't do that. I
come to you who are learned, who have studied, who have lived,
suffered, who have children, and I say: `Please teach me, help
me to understand love.' Don't say, `Love is consciousness
without words,' and all that. I want this thing in me. Don't
give me ashes.
P.J.: What is the relationship of sorrow to love? Is there any
relationship?
K: You must relate sorrow, love and death. If you end
attachment, end it. Do not say, `I will end it today but pick it
up tomorrow.' End it completely and also jealousy, greed. Do not
argue, but end it, which is death. Both biologically and
psychologically the ending of something is death. So, will you
give up, renounce - to use a traditional term - your status,
position, attachments, beliefs, gods? Can you throw them into
the river and see what happens? But you won't do this. Will
renunciation give love, help you to understand the beauty of it?
Please, sir, you are monks, you have studied, please tell me.
P.K.S.: Renunciation, sir, can be of many kinds. Renunciation of
selfishness certainly won't be love.
K: Will my becoming a monk, giving up the world, taking a vow of
celibacy, give me love?
P.K.S.: No. One can be a monk, take vows and yet not have love.
K: So what am I to do? You are a philosopher, you teach all
this. Philosophy means love of truth. Are you giving me life?
Are you giving me, helping me, to understand truth?
P.K.S.: From your observations we obtained certain descriptions
of love.
K: I don't want descriptions of love. I want food.
P.K.S.: We have got certain characteristics of love. One of
these is unselfishness, the other is non-possessiveness. These
are all positive aspects. Certain characteristics that you
mention are positive, but the very nature of ourselves is that
there is jealousy and greed.
K: Right, sir. I am your disciple; I come to learn from you
because you are a philosopher. I am not being rude, but I ask,
sir, are you living it or are these only words? If you are, then
there is a communion between us. I am fighting for a breath of
this. I am drowning. What am I to do?
I say to myself, nobody can help me. No guru, no book, nothing,
will help me. So I discard the whole thing; I won't even touch
it. Then I ask, what is love? Let me find out because if I don't
have that flame, that love, life means nothing; I may pass
examinations, become a great philosopher, but it is nothing. I
must find out. I can only find out something through negation.
Through negation I come to the positive; I don't start with the
positive. If I start with the positive, I end up with
uncertainty. If I start with uncertainty, then something
positive occurs. I say, I know love is not merely a biological
thing. I put the biological movement, desire, in its right
place. So I am free from the biological explanation of love.
Now, is love pleasure which means desire, will, pursuit of an
incident which happened yesterday, the memory of that and the
cultivation of that? Pleasure implies enjoyment, seeing the
beauty of the world, seeing the beauty of nature; I put that
also in its place. Then what is love? It is not attachment,
obviously; it is not jealousy, possessiveness, domination; so I
discard all that.
Then I ask, what place has thought in relationship? Has it any
place at all? Thought is remembrance, the response of knowledge,
experience from which thought is born. So thought is not love.
In that there is a denial of the total structure which man has
built. My relationship to my wife is no longer based on thought,
event, sensory desire, biological demand or attachment; it is
totally new. Will you go through all this? Now I ask, what is
love? It is the ending of everything that man has created in his
relationship with another - country, race, language, clan. Does
that ending mean death?
P.K.S.: It is knowing the completion of life.
K: No, no. I said the ending of thought in relationship. Is not
that death?
I.I.: Sir, could we not say I have never loved enough until the
moment of my death?
K: I want to invite death, not commit suicide. So death means an
ending. I am attached to my wife and death comes and says, look,
that is all over. Ending means death; ending of attachment is a
form of death. The ending of jealousy, biological demands, is
also death, and out of that may come the feeling called love. We
are educated to believe that death is something at the end of
our life. I am saying death is at the beginning of life, because
death means ending. This ending is the ending of my selfishness.
Therefore, out of this comes that extraordinary bird called
love, the phoenix. I think if one has that sense of love, I can
take the aeroplane. It doesn't matter if I take a bullock cart
or an aeroplane, but I won't deceive myself. I have no
illusions.
I.I.: Is it also the end of sorrow?
K: Yes. Sir, do you know the Latin word for sorrow? In it is
involved passion. I know most human beings know what lust,
biological pleasure and all the rest of it is. Are they actually
aware of what sorrow is? Or is it something that you know,
recognise, experience after it is over? Do I know sorrow at the
moment my brother, my son, my wife, dies? Or is it always in the
past?
I.I.: I do not know the sorrow of my own injustice, which I feel
is connected like the shadow of my own action. A single bullock
cart - that's a very small affair.
K: So I won't reduce it to that. Sir, you are saying, if I take
the jet, specially the Jumbo, I am up there; when I take the
bullock cart, I am down here. And if I walk, I am still further
down.
I.I.: Would it not be wisdom to learn, to act with sorrow and,
therefore, keep sorrow also in its place? If I have the courage
to act with the sorrow which I understand, then at the very same
time, I will progressively eliminate from my life all those
things which cast a very long shadow of sorrow.
K: Sir, why should I carry sorrow?
I.I.: Because I do injustice; otherwise how can I justify that
which cannot be justified?
K: No, I won't justify. I want to find out what is right action,
not justify, not say I won't fly by jet. I want to find out what
is right action under all circumstances. Right action may vary
in different things, but it is always right. We are using the
word `right' - correct, true, non-contradictory, not the action
of self-interest; all that is implied in that word ``right
action''. What is my right action? If I can find that out I have
solved it, whether I go by aeroplane or by bullock cart or
whether I walk. But what is right action in my life? Right
action will come about when the mind is not concerned with the
`me'.
P.K.S.: Can I ask for the definition of meditation? Is it
constant awareness?
I.I.: There is no exercise of the mind about it but an
awareness.
K: The word `meditation' implies, according to the dictionary,
to think over, ponder, to reflect upon, to enquire into
something mysterious; not what we have made of it.
P.K.S.: But could it not be applied to cases where something has
been known to be true and ascertained to be true without any
shadow of doubt?
K: How can I ascertain something to be true?
P.K.S.: For example, practice of love.
K: Love is not something to practise.
I.I.: No, in the sense of being aware of.
K: No sir, I said ending of something. There is no practising
the ending of something. I end my jealousy. I want to find out
what love is. Obviously love is not jealousy. So end it without
argument. Because my whole urge, my whole concern is to find
this thing, I will come upon it. In the same way, I want to know
what meditation is: Zen meditation, Burmese meditation, Indian
meditation, Tibetan meditation, Hinayana meditation. Must I go
through all this to find out what meditation is? Must I go to
Japan, spend years in monasteries, practise, go to Burma, go to
India, to all the gurus?
I want to know what you understand by meditation. Would you
agree, sir, that the basic principle, the essence of all this
meditation is control? If you ask a Christian what is
meditation, he will tell you one thing; if you ask an Indian
guru, he will tell you something else. If you ask a man who has
practised meditation for twenty-five years, he will tell you
something else again. So, what is meditation? Is it control of
the mind, or thought, and, therefore, control of action? Control
implies choice. Choice implies no freedom at all. If I choose,
there is no freedom.
P.K.S.: Control is an important element in meditation.
K: So you are saying control is part of meditation. Then who is
the controller, the Higher Self, the atman, the
super-consciousness, which are all put together by thought? Now,
can I live a life without control?
I.I.: Sir, for the purpose of this conversation, could we not
say that meditation is the rehearsal of the act of dying?
K: Forgive me, why should I have a rehearsal?
I.I.: One day I will be called upon for a last time, and before
I could really engage in that supreme activity which is to
die...
K: So why not die now?
I.I.: Now, if it is the act of dying, I will be happy to put it
that way. Only if I say to somebody that meditation means dying,
and if I say that tomorrow morning I will have breakfast with
you, people won't understand me; that is the reason I suggested
the term.
K: No, sir. I don't think we are meeting each other. The word
`meditation' has now become the fashion in Europe. It is
vulgarized, industrialized, money is made out of it. Wipe away
all that. Is not meditation to come upon something sacred, not
put together by thought which says, `This is sacred'? I mean
sacred in the sense of something that is not contaminated by
time, by the environment, something that is original. I am shy
of these words, but please accept it. Is meditation an enquiry
into that?
I.I.: Into that of which we speak shyly?
K: Yes, into that. My enquiry then must be completely
undirected, unbiased. Otherwise, I will go off at a tangent. If
I have a motive for meditation because I am unhappy and,
therefore, I want to find that, then my motive dictates. Then I
go off into illusions.
I.I.: If I said the same thing in different terms: Meditation is
the readiness for radical surprise, will you accept it?
K: Yes, I accept it. So my concern in meditation is - have I a
motive? Motive means movement. So I have a motive in meditation.
Do I want a reward? I must be very clear that there is no search
for reward or punishment, which means there is no direction. And
also I must be very clear that no element creates an illusion.
Illusion comes into being when there is desire, when I want
something. I see the fact that the mind in meditation must be
tremendously aware that it is not caught in any kind of
self-hypnosis, self-created illusion. So part of meditation is
to wipe away the illusory machine. And, if there is control, it
is already directed. Therefore, it means, can I live a daily
life in which there is absolutely no control? That means, no
censor, saying `do this, do that'. All our life, from childhood,
we are educated to control, to suppress, to follow. So can I
live a daily life, not an abstract life, with my wife, with my
friends, without any control, without direction, without
movement?
That is the beginning of meditation.