The past lives in our minds. It dictates our experience of the present from a very powerful position, operating as the very self we identify as “I”. This I is like an impostor from within our own consciousness, claiming our life experiences for its own and distorting them based on its conditioning. We see the world through the lens of this I, with its web of mental associations that colour our perception and have us constantly judging and labeling everything in our experience—including ourselves—according to the past. This I is constantly reinforcing and substantiating itself by projecting memories and thoughts into our consciousness that keep it front and center in the present moment. When we observe our thoughts, we can see how the stories in our minds almost always revolve around “I”, “me”, “mine”, and variations of “me and you”, “me and them” and “me and that”. We’ve come to take this dualistic internal dialogue for granted, unconscious of the fact that this drama inside is purely mental fabrication, including the I operating at the center of it all. Isolation, division and conflict are inherent qualities of this internal dynamic, and it causes a great deal of suffering in many people’s lives. The mind is such a powerful tool, so immensely powerful that consciousness itself is easily mesmerized by it, by its own creation. That is really what we are though: consciousness, pure and simple. When we take a good look at ourselves in the present moment, if we can differentiate between what is a projection of the past and what is actually here in the present, we might see that the self of the mind does not really exist. Instead, what is here is something formless, clear and indefinable, free from the past and full of the present. It is something that is both inherently whole and empty at the same time. All the commotion inside arises in a space that is naturally still and silent. Looking inside and seeing these as qualities of your true nature creates the opportunity to shift from a state of narrow identification with the “I” thought (and all its projections), to a state of openness, non-reaction and inner peace. Who we think we are is a complicated drama of memories and emotions that is often butting heads with reality, but what we really are exists only in the present, and is simplicity itself. Our conditioning is deeply rooted, and so seeing this may not transform us immediately, but with continued awareness we might finally shed the bondage of the past and find the peace that is always right here, right where we are. JR “There is a watching of the past as it goes by, but not occupation with the past. So the mind is free to observe and not to choose. Where there is choice in this movement of the river of memory, there is occupation, and the moment the mind is occupied, it is caught in the past: and when the mind is occupied with the past, it is incapable of seeing something real, true, new, original, uncontaminated. A mind that is occupied with the past – the past is the whole consciousness that says, `this is good; `that is right; `this is bad; `this is mine; `this is not mine’ – can never know the Real. But the mind unoccupied can receive that which is not known, which is the unknown. This is not an extraordinary state of some yogi, some saint. Just observe your own mind; how direct and simple it is. See how your mind is occupied. And the answer, with what the mind is occupied, will give you the understanding of the past, and therefore the freedom from the past.” -J. Krishnamurti, Collected Works Volume 7 Bombay, 4th March 1953

Yesterday, I attended David Bruneau’s video showing of one of J Krishnamurti’s talks on what seems like K’s favourite topic “fear.” The discussion that ensued after brought to light that perhaps the most primary and widespread fear is the fear of death and it brought up thoughts of a famous Zen Master on his deathbed… It used to be the custom of Zen masters on their deathbeds to compose a gatha – a poetic condensation of the insights of a long and dedicated spiritual life, a final comment on life itself and impending death. It is reported that one famous Master who was very near death summoned his followers to his bed and asked for a paper and pencil. He then scribbled something and handed it back to one of the now expectant  elders who read it and seemed very confused.  The note said… “I don’t want to die.” After passing it around to the others, he said that he didn’t understand this gatha and again handed the master a piece of paper and pencil. The old master scribbled again and handed it back…. “I really, really don’t want to die!”  

Can freedom come from control? The very nature of bondage is control, and yet most of us seek freedom through greater and greater control in our lives. Is there a link between psychological suffering and the pervasive need to feel that we are in control? History repeats itself, every single day. When we watch ourselves—when we observe our thoughts and actions on a daily basis—the degree to which we live according to certain patterns becomes glaringly obvious. Most of us take these patterns for granted, or are not even conscious of them, and so we’re not aware of the power they have in our lives. Going a step further, what we understand to be free will and personal agency are deeply governed by these patterns—which are essentially expressions of our conditioning—to the point that we might question the validity of these notions as they are commonly understood. At first, this understanding can be disconcerting; it can be scary to think that we are not really in control of our own lives, but this realization also has the power to release us from a great deal of confusion and suffering. Indeed, the notion of control itself may one of the most deeply embedded illusions in the human mind, and sages throughout history have pointed this out to help us let go of something that causes an immense amount of psychological suffering. This awareness can be freeing, having the power to lead us to a transformative understanding of ourselves. The suffering that arises from our patterns and conditioning is closely tied to misunderstanding. Maya, The Great Illusion (as the term is often described based on Vedic texts), can also be understood as a web of deeply rooted misunderstandings about ourselves and the nature of reality. Why is it that we are so compelled to be in control? What understandings—or misunderstandings—lead us to believe that control is so absolutely imperative to every aspect of our lives? Is it possible that fear and insecurity are behind most expressions of control? There are many answers to these questions, however we might benefit more by not dwelling merely on questions and answers, but rather by passively observing the patterns we live by—which include our judgments and beliefs—and seeing for ourselves the truth behind these patterns and what role they are playing in our own lives. In watching our patterns and gradually (or suddenly) realizing the freedom that lies in letting go of rigid ownership of every thought and action that arises, the possibility of a different way of being arises. We can become aware of certain judgments and beliefs, and instead of automatically agreeing with them or acting on them, we can step back and see what happens if we just let them pass. We can introduce a spaciousness into our awareness that lets us relate to thoughts in intelligent and creative ways, as opposed to being blindly led around by them. With greater awareness comes greater understanding, and we may become aware of certain core beliefs that underlie many of our thoughts. Many people are plagued by thoughts that come from a central belief that they are not whole, that they are not good enough as they are. They may default to thinking they have done something wrong, even when they have actually acted appropriately or even done something good from a place of kindness, creativity or authenticity. Bringing light to such patterns and the beliefs that perpetuate them, we can begin to question their validity and loosen their grip on us. By seeing how we’re acting out patterns and that we’re not unique in this sense, we can have a bit more compassion for ourselves when we make mistakes, as well as for others when they make their own mistakes. We still need to claim responsibility for our actions, but we can also see them from a different angle that makes it possible for us to learn from them and ultimately transform ourselves. Though we think we are in control, this illusion actually binds us to the control of our patterns, of our conditioning, with all their divisive and painful judgments and beliefs. And so, to control is to be controlled. Seeing this as a fact, we might pause and begin to reassess what’s actually occurring in our own lives, what’s driving our thoughts and actions. We can hopefully begin to relax a bit more as we nurture inner peace from a place of awareness, and find some more intelligent and creative approaches to living and relating to each other. JR “Is there in daily existence a way of living in which every form of psychological control ceases to exist?—because control means effort, it means division between the controller and the controlled; I am angry, I must control my anger; I smoke, I must not smoke and I must resist smoking. We are saying there is something totally different and this may be misunderstood and may be rejected altogether because it is very common to say that all life is control—if you do not control you will become permissive, nonsensical, without meaning, therefore you must control. Religions, philosophies, teachers, your family, your mother, they all encourage you to control. We have never asked: Who is the controller?” J. Krishnamurti, The Network of Thought

It was my pleasure and privilege to attend P. Krishna’s retreat, Krishnamurti and the Transformation of Consciousness. He opened the weekend by giving a public talk on Science and Spirituality, which I found very interesting and relevant. Why is it that humanity has made such leaps and bounds scientifically and technologically, but remained so ignorant in the realm of self-knowledge? He went into this question in great deal, and explained the thoroughness of scientific inquiry in comparison with the shallow acceptance of belief that has kept humanity in spiritual darkness. He discussed order and disorder, and what those terms might mean both inwardly and in society. It’s extremely interesting that the inquiry in K’s teachings has certain parallels to scientific inquiry, in the degree of diligence and the emphasis on actually getting to the truth of the matter. Over the weekend, Krishna emphasized the importance of the learning mind, of being able to inquire into our conditioned responses, always from a place of passive awareness. He explained that by inquiring into beliefs that are causing anger and other such oppressive feelings, we can gradually dissolve the conditioning that is such an obstruction to inward freedom. He explained with great clarity how such freedom is synonymous with order, and how our conditioning is the root of disorder (both inwardly and outwardly). I returned on Monday to attend one of Harshad Parekh’s dialogues, which Krishna attended also. It was very interesting to hear these two different views on K’s teachings. Harshad is very keen on the simple act of watching, of passive awareness, whereas Krishna believes the process is a little more involved than this. Harshad shared his experience with K’s teachings and how they transformed his relationship with thought, himself and the world. Ultimately truth is a pathless land, and what this means to me on one level is that K can share his observations with us, but the process that leads to insight is a very personal one, which requires each of us to awaken a certain intuitive intelligence that can guide us towards greater self-knowledge. One person’s understanding may not lead to another person’s insight. I think that certain understandings are very worthy of being shared with others, but the thing is that each person’s insight can ultimately only come about in a way that arises out of their own intuition, their own natural intelligence. Personally, one of the more powerful moments over the weekend came when we watched a video wherein K discussed the fact that the “analyzer is the analyzed”, and why psychoanalysis usually only perpetuates psychological division. It was this segment that led to a personal insight about the actuality of phrases such as “the observer is the observed” and “the thinker is the thought. I’ll be sharing “my” understanding of this in greater detail in future posts.  I would like to thank P. Krishna, Harshad Parekh, Ralph Tiller, the Krishnamurti Education Centre of Canada, and all the wonderful participants for this very valuable weekend retreat.