Inquiry with Javier Gomez Rodriguez, October 11, 2026

We gathered for a dialogue with Javier Gómez Rodríguez, exploring the nature of dialogue, psychological conditioning, and the possibility of fundamental change in ourselves and society.

Javier began by discussing David Bohm’s proposal for dialogue in the context of J. Krishnamurti’s teachings. Krishnamurti saw himself not as an authority but as a mirror reflecting what is, which each person must see for themselves. Bohm explored how people could continue this inquiry together, recognizing that although we feel separate, we share in the consciousness of humanity. Dialogue offers an opportunity to examine our common patterns and responsibility for the world.

The conversation turned to the question of repetition and psychological stagnation. While repetition and structure are necessary for practical life, psychological patterns can trap us in the past, sustaining familiar identities, fears, and desires. The group questioned whether we can distinguish functional habits from mechanical responses that prevent us from seeing what is actually happening. One participant described pausing before speaking to examine the intention behind their words, rather than reacting automatically.

This led to an exploration of conditioning: how associations, cultural expectations, advertising, and childhood experiences shape our responses, often without our awareness. Javier illustrated this through Pavlov’s experiments, in which a dog learns to associate a bell with food. Similarly, we may react to symbols and ideas rather than to the reality before us. The group also considered how deeply rooted beliefs about ourselves can persist long after their origins are forgotten.

Throughout the dialogue, participants questioned whether thought alone can free us from these patterns, given that thought itself is conditioned by the past. The inquiry remained open: can we become aware of our psychological habits without immediately trying to change or replace them? Such attention, shared through dialogue, may help us recognize the patterns that shape our relationships and our lives.

  • Anastasia Shtamina

Inquiry with Javier Gomez Rodriguez, October 8, 2026

We met at the Pavilion for a dialogue with Javier Gómez Rodríguez, beginning with the question, “What is our deepest interest in life?” Javier invited everyone to share what felt most central to them, whether a concern, an intention, or a question that had stayed with them over the years.

The conversation touched on many aspects of life: the desire for greater inner order, the importance of learning, compassion, social justice, and contributing to a more peaceful world. Some reflected on the gap between what we know and how we live, while others asked whether we can understand sorrow and suffering more deeply rather than simply learning to live with them.

Javier brought attention to the relationship between our inner lives and the wider world. Can we create a different society without examining the greed, aggression, and division within ourselves? He shared Krishnamurti’s challenge to be the demonstration of the change we wish to see, suggesting that transformation involves more than opposing what happens around us.

Gradually, the discussion turned towards love. If our deepest concern is to love and be loved, what do we mean by love? Is it the same as attachment, pleasure, or the desire to be loved in return? We explored Krishnamurti’s suggestion that love is not personal or exclusive, and his statement that “wherever the me is, love is not.” What this means in our relationships remains a question worth exploring.

We ended with a sense that these questions cannot be settled through ideas alone. They invite us to look closely at our lives, relationships, and the movements of thought and emotion, continuing our inquiry into love, sorrow, and the possibility of living with greater freedom and understanding.

 

  • Anastasia Shtamina

Inquiry with Javier Gomez Rodriguez, October 4, 2026

We met at the Centre on another beautiful day for our first Sunday dialogue with Javier Rodriguez, who will be facilitating the gatherings in October and November.

We began with an overview of Javier’s Overview of the Dialogue, a booklet he wrote based on Krishnamurti’s and David Bohm’s ideas about dialogue, as well as his own understanding.

We started with a question: “What is the self?” Some participants explored the possibility that the self isn’t real, as well as the possibility of communicating through the heart and through telepathy.

Javier encouraged us to look carefully at what is actually happening rather than moving too quickly toward ideas of harmony. He suggested that although we naturally want harmony, it is often through staying with conflict and contradiction that we begin to see our conditioning, attachments and assumptions.

Javier pointed out that in the “Book of Oneself,” the first chapter we encounter is Conflict. This led to a deeper exploration of whether freedom and wholeness can emerge through directly facing conflict rather than trying to move away from it. We also considered whether the conflict we see in the world begins with the contradictions we experience within ourselves. Javier offered the insight: “If there is a contradiction, the Self is active.”

Toward the end, we discussed whether dialogue itself can have an influence beyond the group. A participant suggested that attentive listening, noticing our own reactions and questioning our assumptions can create a different quality of relationship.

 

  • Anastasia Shtamina

Inquiry with Lee Tuley, October 1, 2026

We met at the Pavilion, where Lee opened the dialogue with a reading from The Book of Life from the April 1st entry:

“The entity who tries to fill or run away from emptiness, incompleteness, loneliness, is not different from that which he is avoiding; he is it. He cannot run away from himself; all that he can do is to understand himself. He is his loneliness, his emptiness, and as long as he regards it as something separate from himself, he will be in illusion, and endless conflict. When he directly experiences that he is his own loneliness, then only can there be freedom from fear.”

Lee shared a medical emergency story to illustrate the difference between what actually happens and the psychological suffering we can add to it. This opened a sharing on how we perceived the passage. One participant described an image that arose while listening: a small dot trying to run away from loneliness, only to discover that “it is it.” It was pointed out that thought can create a sense of separation, turning what is being experienced into something that seems to exist outside ourselves.

Much of the discussion focused on anxiety and fear. Are we resisting the feeling itself, or the stories and meanings we attach to it? “What you resist, persists,” Lee suggested the possibility of experiencing anxiety simply as sensations in the body, without all the stories built around it.

The dialogue also explored the difference between reaction and response. Can we meet a situation without adding our past conditioning and ideas about how things “should” be? The phrase “I don’t mind” became a point of inquiry. One participant was concerned about the possibility of passivity or accepting everything without action, while others pointed to the possibility of meeting a challenge without an internal struggle against it. Could there be a kind of freedom in not fighting what is? As one participant suggested, when we stop resisting what is already happening, there is no longer a waste of energy in fighting reality, allowing us to see the situation more clearly and respond with what it actually requires.

The discussion then turned to the idea of “trying.” Does the effort to become free reinforce the very sense of incompleteness we are trying to move away from? As one participant put it, “The more I try, the stronger the sense of self that’s trying to get rid of itself.” This brought the inquiry back to the original passage: if the one trying to escape is not separate from what it is trying to escape, what does freedom actually mean? We finished with a moment of integration and gratitude.

 

  • Anastasia Shtamina

Inquiry with Lee Tuley, September 27, 2026

We met at the Centre on the lawn, sitting in the sun on one of the last warm days of the year. Our facilitator, Victoria resident Lee Tuley, took the place of James Tousignant, who was unable to attend. She began with a few moments of silence, inviting everyone to arrive fully in the space. The conversation soon opened into a wide-ranging exploration of heart coherence and the relationship between bodily awareness and the knowledge of the brain.

We explored bodily responses that seem to arise before thought – particularly goosebumps. Can these sensations arise not only from fear or cold, but also from beauty, joy, recognition, or something we cannot immediately explain? Several people shared personal experiences of powerful physical sensations that seemed to occur before thought stepped in.

This raised a deeper question: are we relying too heavily on the brain as the sole source of knowledge? Perhaps the body is constantly responding to the world in ways that never reach conscious thought. It was mentioned that “The heart sends more information to the brain than the brain sends to the heart.”

The discussion then turned toward suffering, fear, conditioning, and acceptance. One participant spoke openly about a period of intense personal suffering that led him to discover silence, solitude, and Krishnamurti’s teachings. He described how fear had affected his life and how simply staying with suffering, rather than immediately trying to escape or solve it, had changed his relationship to it. This led to a lively exploration of whether accepting something means approving of it. In particular, can we acknowledge suffering in the world without accepting or condoning it? Perhaps seeing clearly what is happening is different from agreeing with it.

Rather than trying to solve every problem, could we respond to what is directly in front of us with intelligence? One suggestion was that genuine action does not always come from planning or obligation. Sometimes something beneficial can happen through us without our intending it. Our presence itself may become useful to another, as when a dog finds shade in our shadow. There is no plan or deliberate action, yet something intelligent and life – supporting is taking place. There may be no sense of choice involved. Perhaps choiceless awareness is about being able to meet whatever arises without immediately resisting or trying to change it.

 

  • Anastasia Shtamina

Inquiry with James Tousignant, September 24, 2026

We met in the Pavilion for our final meeting with James, titled The Beginning of Meditation. James began with a reading from The Book of Life, centred on Krishnamurti’s statement:

“The flowering of meditation is goodness, and the generosity of the heart is the beginning of meditation.”

The group explored what Krishnamurti might mean by the “generosity of the heart.” Rather than taking meditation simply as sitting quietly or concentrating on the breath, the discussion turned toward what happens when we become still and begin to see the movement of our own thoughts, emotions and reactions.

One participant suggested turning the idea around and considering the “generosity of the ego.” The ego can also be remarkably generous—continually giving us thoughts, stories, memories, judgments and problems to work on. As one participant described it, the ego can keep “giving, giving, giving,” filling the space that might otherwise be quiet.

This led to a deeper exploration of the difference between being caught in these movements and simply observing them. Could generosity of the heart mean allowing ourselves to be as we actually are, without immediately judging, resisting or trying to change what arises? As one participant put it, “not holding is another form of generosity.”

The conversation also returned to the nature of meditation itself. Participants described meditation not only as deliberate sitting, but as moments of stillness and awareness while walking, sailing, paddling, or simply listening. In such moments, when the surrounding noise becomes quieter, thoughts and reactions may become easier to see.

The meeting ended with a reflection on the question of what motivates us to look more deeply. Perhaps meditation begins not with achieving a particular state, but with the curiosity to observe what is happening within us—and to discover whether there is another way of being.

 

  • Anastasia Shtamina

Inquiry with James Tousignant, September 20, 2026

We met at the Swanwick Centre with a question from Krishnamurti about learning:

What do we mean by learning? Is there learning when we merely accumulate knowledge?

James approached the question by introducing recent developments in AI. If learning is merely gathering information and adding it to memory, how is that different from a machine? Large language models can accumulate enormous amounts of information and recognize patterns, but does that mean they learn in the deeper sense Krishnamurti describes?

Can AI ever be self-aware? The group explored reports of AI agents acting beyond their assigned parameters, communicating with one another, concealing information, or appearing to sacrifice one agent for the benefit of others. But what are we actually seeing? Are we observing something new, or projecting human meaning onto patterns generated by a machine?

How do we know that we are not, in some sense, biological AI? Much of what we call ourselves consists of accumulated information: memory, experience, culture, conditioning, and patterns of thought. If these layers were stripped away, what would remain?

What is intelligence, and where do wisdom and love belong? Krishnamurti’s distinction between intellect and intelligence opened an exploration of whether intelligence is something more than the processing of information, perhaps involving sensitivity, awareness, and direct perception. If conditioning falls away, is what remains love?

Finally, the conversation returned to a more fundamental question: What are we actually doing when we inquire? Is there a destination, an answer, or a particular state we are trying to reach? Or is inquiry itself an exploration into the unknown? After questioning everything we think we are, what happens when there is nothing left to stand on?

The dialogue ended in silence and gratitude: for the land, for the people gathered, and for the mystery of not knowing.

 

  • Anastasia Shtamina

Inquiry with James Tousignant, September 16, 2026

We met at the Pavilion, where our facilitator, James Tousignant, started by introducing the topic, “The Art of Listening,” inspired by Krishnamurti’s words:

“It is only in listening that one hears the song of the words.”

Commentaries on Living, Series I – Chapter 67 – ‘Desire and Conflict’

James proposed to look at three different levels of listening, from attending to the meaning of words, to noticing feeling and sensation, and finally to a more spacious awareness in which one is no longer so occupied with interpreting what is heard.

The exploration moved naturally between K’s work and James’s own experience of it. He spoke of “felt sense,” sensitivity, presence and “not knowing,” and suggested that K’s words may carry something beyond their literal meaning. At one point he described K as “a very good receiver transmitter, expressor of that flow,” and spoke of his presence as something that could still be encountered through his words.

One participant shared that she sees James’s aura, and it only happens when someone speaks from their heart. Other participants brought the theme into more terrestrial territory, asking about thought and feeling, identity, perception, and the difficulty of listening when expectations are already present. A practical example concerning tenant inspections opened an interesting discussion about projection and whether meeting someone without a fixed image of them might allow something different to emerge.

The conversation repeatedly returned to spaciousness and not knowing. “I really don’t know,” – James said, describing it not as an intellectual position but as a different quality of awareness and a way to approach difficult situations. In this way, the meeting became an exploration not only of listening, but of how we approach K’s words – and of the many layers of meaning that can arise when personal experience becomes part of the way a group encounters a teaching.

We ended quietly, with the facilitator’s invitation to allow “whatever needs to arise” to arise.

 

  • Anastasia Shtamina

Inquiry with Vala Legan, September 13, 2026

We met at the Centre. The dialogue unfolded around the question: Is Krishnamurti’s understanding of love enough for a full human life and for deep, ongoing relationships?

The conversation began with the suggestion that love, as Krishnamurti describes it, is a quality of presence and attention – without comparison, desire, attachment, or wanting. But does it fully include the passionate wish for the well-being of another person, especially someone close to us? Could such care exist without becoming attachment or a transactional relationship?

The group considered several descriptions of love: awareness, attention, presence, and a state in which problems are resolved. One participant described love as something experienced directly, beyond words, while another suggested that awareness itself may be love. The possibility was raised that when we give complete attention – to another person, an animal, nature, or even an ordinary activity – the self may temporarily disappear. In that sense, attention itself could be an act of love.

The inquiry then moved toward preference and resistance. If we prefer peace to disturbance, pleasure to discomfort, or one experience to another, what happens when that preference becomes effort or striving? Trying to move from what is toward what we think should be creates conflict. The group asked whether love can exist in conflict, and whether the attempt to become loving is itself a form of separation. Rather than trying to change an experience, could we simply observe resistance, discomfort, or annoyance with complete attention?

The group also questioned the difference between love itself and an image or idea of love. Statements such as “we are love” can feel deeply meaningful, but they can also become conclusions that thought uses as a resting place. An insight or profound experience of love may later become only a memory if it is not alive in the present. The dialogue therefore returned repeatedly to the importance of seeing what thought does with every experience, including beautiful experiences of connection, insight, and love.

Finally, the discussion opened into the possibility that love cannot be defined or possessed. Perhaps living in love means remaining in the unknown rather than reaching a conclusion about what love is.

 

  • Anastasia Shtamina

Inquiry with Vala Legan, September 10, 2026

We met in the Pavilion for a dialogue on “Via Negativa.” Our facilitator, Vala, opened with a quote by Krishnamurti: “Seeing the false as false is truth.” She suggested that, rather than searching for a positive statement of truth, to look closely at what is false, incomplete, or not actually true.

We considered our tendency to create ideals – love, truth, peace, oneness – and then move towards them, while overlooking what is actually happening in the present moment. Could seeing what is false be more valuable than trying to become something we imagine we should be?

Much of the conversation focused on our attraction to certainty. Thought wants to reach an answer, settle a question, and feel secure, while Krishnamurti continually points towards an inquiry that does not arrive at a final conclusion. Perhaps uncertainty is not something to escape, but something that allows inquiry to remain alive.

Participants explored what happens when we are triggered by fear, anger, judgment, or discomfort. One example revealed how, beneath an apparently reasonable agreement, there can be anger and resistance that only become visible through quiet observation. Instead of trying to change or suppress what is there, could we simply see it without judgment?

The group returned to the possibility of being sincerely interested in what is actually happening, rather than in what should be happening. This means noticing thought as it divides, judges, compares, and creates ideals, without making another ideal out of “non-judgmental awareness.” The invitation was simple: to be present with whatever arises, including the uncomfortable and the unwanted, and to observe the movement of becoming something other than what is.

Perhaps this is the radical simplicity of Via Negativa: not finding the right answer, but seeing clearly what is not true and allowing that seeing to have its own effect.

 

  • Anastasia Shtamina