J. Krishnamurti’s “Commentaries on Living” an

J. KRISHNAMURTI’S “COMMENTARIES ON LIVING”
AN APPROACH

Introduction

My purpose in this paper is to offer an insight into the method and meaning of Krishnamurti’s Commentaries on Living. In doing so I shall first describe, in a factual manner, what the Commentaries are. Then I shall narrate an account of my own responses to the text, which will constitute the middle section of the paper. And in the final section. I shall discuss some of the essential features of the Commentaries abstracted from the report of my response to the text.

I
What are Commentaries on Living?

            Commentaries on Living, in three series are a record of the conversations that Krishnamuni had with various people concerning their problems. The First Series was published in 1956, the second in 1958, and the third in 1960.¹ All three volumes are edited from Krisnamurti’s notebooks by D. Rajagopal. The First Series has eighty-eight commentaries; and the second and the third both contain fifty-seven. Each commentary has basically two parts: the first is the description of a particular, usually natural scene, and the second is the transcript of the conversation between Krishnamurti and one or more visitors.² The first part is a detailed observation that leads to a state of mind which is best characterized as meditative. This part shows Krishnamurti’s minute and precise observation of both natural and human phenomena. It helps set the tone for the discussion that follows. Here the release that is affected through choice­less awareness or pure observation without an observer is demon­strated – this is the state that Krishnamurti leads his correspondent to in the next section. Thus, the first part which the reader is alone with the writer serves as a tranquil preparation for the rigors of the discussion that will follow.

The second part of the commentary is the exchange between the visitor and Krishnamurti. Here the basic emphasis is psychological. Each visitor has a specific problem to discuss. This problem is then probed to its root. Krishnamurti usually offers no solution or practical advice; however, the thorough examination of the problem produces a certain type of release. The problem, thus, becomes the instrument of rigorous self-examination out of which is born self-­knowledge and wisdom.

Each commentary is self-contained; there is no visible develop­ment of ideas as we proceed from one to the other. Thus, there is no plot or order to the Commentaries. One may begin anywhere and end anywhere. The effect is hardly cumulative. There is little difference from one volume to the next; the only change is the increase in length from the first series to the second and the third. Obviously the Commentaries are not like usual books. Their purpose is not to entertain or edify in the conventional way; their only purpose is to help one to understand oneself.

II

An Account of a Reading of the Commentaries

I first read the Commentaries in the winter of 1978 when I was a second year student in the B.A. English program at the University of Delhi. I was then eighteen years old. I had only the briefest acquaintance with Krishnamurti’s works prior to this, so I was approaching these books afresh. I read not from beginning to end, but randomly and haphazardly. Yet, I eventually read most of the three volumes in the space of about two or three months. After that intense first reading, I have gone to them now and then, skimming here and there. My next serious reading was in 1985 when I tried to go through the texts from cover to cover in preparation for this paper. However, I would like to focus on that first reading not only because I find that my understanding of the Commentaries has not progressed significantly since that first reading, but also because the impact of that first reading was tremendous, far greater than the gains made thence through physical and intellectual maturity.

The first reading of Commentaries on Living was certainly one of the biggest challenges I had ever faced. What I read seemed to shake me to the roots of my self. As I blundered through commentary after commentary, I found myself examining the whole complex mechanism that was my mind; I began to seriously observe myself for the fist time. And it has been impossible to escape from that rigorous self-scrutiny since. The following were some of my reactions to the Commentaries as I now recollect them.

1. Each Commentary Dealt with Essentially the “Same” Thing.

Though I knew that a great many subjects such as anger, jealousy, love, ambition, death, meditation, awareness, intelligence, sex, desire, greed, etc., were being discussed, all the commentaries. I realized, were somehow concerned with the same basic issue. This shocked me because I wanted to read on, to know more, to accumulate more information, in short, to escape from myself. Though I read more and more, though I brought more and more of Krishnamurti’s books, I found that I could not increase my insight in proportion to the quantity of reading. More wasn’t more. The acquisitive mind, which was seeking to improve itself, was disappointed. I reluctantly came to the conclusion that to under­stand even one commentary completely was to understand them all.

2. No Solution Was Being Offered.

Secondly, I realized that throughout the Commentaries though innumerable deceptions of the mind were exposed, no alternate path was suggested. The limitations and draws of every type of action – religious, social, political, ethical, personal – were pointed out, but without any substitutes. This I found bewildering. The mind kept groping for some security, surety, formula in place of all the supports that were supplanted, but none was to be found. Every ideology that promised enlightenment, such as belief in God, in the Masters in non-violence, in work, in creativity, etc., was relentlessly questioned and its hollowness exposed, but none seemed to be offered in its place. Luckily, at that point in my life, I was not clever enough to see a technique in this negation of technique. The result was a state of acute psychological uncertainty and anxiety – the basis of my self or ego was threatened.

3. I Was Incapable of Removing My Own Confusion.

The third realization was that nothing that I did or was capable of doing could free me from the confusion that I was experiencing. My reading of the Commentaries showed me clearly that all my attempts to escape, deny, or hide this confusion were themselves a part of this confusion. This was seen the hard way, after the exhaustion and failure of several attempts to clarify the confusion. I began to see that these attempts were themselves within the confines of the confused self and were only adding to the confusion. The self was appropriating every attempt to reach something beyond itself; the desire for clarity, or freedom itself was a binding, a pretext for the further perpetuation of the con­fused self. I was left at an insoluble impasse.

Of course, these realizations were, by no means as clear and tidy as I am presenting them here. These are merely convenient abstractions that I have drawn from my experience for the purposes of illustration. Then, I was the confusion myself; my muddled mind had seen its own reflection, as one sees one’s face in a muddy puddle.

Now several years later, with much hindsight, some intellectual equipment, and after a far wider exposure to Krishnamurti, I still think that these insights gleaned from my personal crisis do suggest noteworthy pointers to Krishnamurti’s method and meaning in the Commentaries.

III

Discussion of the Above Points

To consider the first point it can be seen that though the Commentaries discuss various and seemingly different issues, there is an underlying similarity in both technique and message. As Krishnamurti observes in the First Series, “All problems arise from one source, and without understanding the source, any attempt to solve the problems will only lead to further confusion and misery” (122). Similarly, in the Third Series, he says, “There’s no isolated problem and no problem can be resolved in itself; isn’t that so?” (119) Thus, throughout, the movement is from the superficial to the essential: all problems are reduced, so to speak, to their common denominator, the self.

Krishnamurti resists fragmentation of any kind. He says in the Second Series:

The problem of individual is also the world’s problem, they are not two separate and distinct processes. We are concerned, surely, with the human problem, whether the human being is in the Orient or in the Occident, which is an arbitrary geographical division. The whole consciousness of man is concerned with God, with death, with right and happy livelihood, with children and their education, with war and peace. Without understanding all this, there can be no healing of man. (170)

Thus, Krishnamurit’s approach is holistic and complete. Each problem is dealt with not in isolation, but in relation to the whole.

In this respect, Krishnamurti is in accord with the tradition of the mystics who stressed a direct intuitive, transcendental contact with Reality as the panacea to all the problems of the world. Just as the medieval mystics of India, recommended the repetition of God’s name as the primary means to this end, Krishnamurti appears to propose the one dominant technique of the choiceless awareness of Reality from moment to moment. No matter what the problem, this awareness is seen as the means to both understand and dissolve it. It is important to note how logical and precise he is in this insistence: to him awareness is always without the observer. The existence of an observer implies duality and fragmentation. But to Krishnamurti awareness is a state in which the observer himself is not. Awareness is always whole and undivided; it is not personal or divided. Hence, it is not my awareness or your awareness, but simply awareness. The word itself is unique because it signifies the state of being aware, without reference to subject.

Krishnamurti explains this approach in the second series:

Without escaping to monasteries and so on, is it not possible to be passively alert to the activities of the self? This awareness may bring about a totally different activity which does not breed sorrow and misery. (204)

Similary in the Third Series:

There may be no need to take any particular action. In the very process of understanding the whole issue, there may be a different kind of action altogether. (105)

Hence, though the Commentaries differ in subject, their underlying emphasis is similar: through dialogue, questioning, and listening, the respondent, and thereby the reader, is made aware of his or her state of mind. The same message, it would seem, is repeated again and in various garbs: as Krishnamurti tells one visitor, “Look and be simple” (Third Series 82). The clarity that arises from this method is not merely intellectual, but total.

The second point, regarding the absence of positive advice or direction is also inherent to the purpose of the Commentaries. The technique of offering no substitute in place of the old ways of illusion is also based on very clear reasoning. Krishnamurti repeatedly observes how Truth is ossified and perverted into dogma and propaganda in organized religions and traditions. As he says in the First Series, “We are worshippers of words and labels; we never seem to go beyond the symbol, to comprehend the worth of the symbol” (175) “rituals are vain repetition which offer a marvellous and respectable escape from self-knowledge” (25). Similarly, in the Third Series he admonishes, “Put away the book, the description, the tradition, the authority, and take the journey of self-discovery” (214). In so saying, Krishnmurti is not alone: almost every mystic has condemned the hypocrisy and self-deception of empty traditionalism.

Krishnamurti’s rejection of tradition is born out of the conviction that Truth cannot be repeated or duplicated:

Repetition of Truth is a lie. Truth cannot be repeated, it cannot be propagated or used .... The propagandist, religious or secular, cannot be a speaker of truth.
(First Series 63)

Instead, he claims:

Truth must be discovered anew from moment to moment, it is not an experience that can be repeated; it has no continuity, it is a timeless state. (Third Series 4)

If these premises are understood, it is clear why Krishnamurti debunks all methods or paths to Truth, but does not offer any substitutes. He does not want to establish a new dogma, a new creed in place of the old. He does not want to offer a new description of Truth in place of the old. If Truth is to be experienced first hand, surely Krishnamurti’s description of it is as detrimental as that of any other authority. As he himself tells a discussant in the Second Series:

You pay attention when I say something, do you not? But when someone else says the same thing, perhaps in different words, you become deaf. (191)

Therefore, the whole approach in the Commentaries is negative. What is Truth is never described; instead, the theory is that “Awareness of the false as false is the freedom of truth” (First Series 180). Similarly, he says in the same volume:

The problem is the important thing, and not the answer. If we look for an answer, we will find it; but the problem will persist, for the answer is irrelevant to the problem. (122)

Hence, throughout, problems are discussed, but no clear solutions are offered. It may be pointed out that this method is as old as the Vedas with their negative definition of truth as: neti, neti, or “not this,” “not this.” But, to my knowledge, Krishnamurti is the only teacher who has developed it into the corner-stone of his whole approach to life.

Finally, the third point regarding the futility of will or effort in resolving one’s confusion needs to be addressed. This realization has its basis in what one critic called Krishnamurti’s great psycholo­gical discovery – that the thinker is not separate from the thought.³ This implies that the thinker cannot act upon or modify himself through thought. Or to put it differently, any such modi­fication of the self, wrought by the self itself, is bound to be superficial and useless. Thus Krishnamurti says in the First Series, “The thinker is the thought, and he cannot operate upon himself; when he does it is only self-deception” (225). Similarly, in the Second Series:

Whatever its activity, however noble its aim, any effort on the part of the “I” is still within the field of its own memories, idiosyncrasies and projections, whether conscious or not. (115)

The implications of this are obviously far reaching: we may realize our own confusion or imperfection, but we can do nothing to change it. As one discussant in the second series puts it:

“How can the mind free itself from its own bondages? It seems to me that either an outside agency is necessary, or else a higher and nobler part of the mind must intervene to purify the mind of the past.” (217)

In such a question all the major pre-occupations in Krishna­murti converge. It is clear that the mind is conflict-ridden. It is also clear that it cannot rid itself of its conflicts by any effort of its own. Then what is the option? The process whereby the mind is transformed is a perpetual mystery; as Krishnamurti says, “If the outside agency is something beyond the mind, then thought in any form cannot touch it” (Second Series 217). In fact, for it to operate, thought itself, and its brain child, the thinker, must cease. This, Krishnamurti calls death: death is the end, the break with one’s conditioning. It is not self-generated or self-centered, nor is it a product of time. As Krishnamurti asks:

Is it possible – without resistance, without morbidity, without a sadistic or suicidal urge, and while fully alive, mentally vigorous – to enter the house of death? This is possible only when the mind dies to the known, to the self.
(Second Series 47)

Through dying to the past moment, through meditation without the meditator, through an awareness that is not conditioned by the mind, Krishnamurti tells us in his Commentaries, is born a totally different order or mode of being. The beauty, perfection, effortlessness, simplicity, silence, and freedom of this state are immeasurable, truly beyond the mind and its reach.

NOTES

¹ J. Krishnamurti, Commentaries on Living, ed. D. Rajagopal (London: Victor Gollanez, 1956); Second Series (1958; rpt, Wheaton, Illinois: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1967); Third Series (1960; rpt, Wheaton, Illinois: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1967).

An earlier version of this paper was presented at 14th Annual Con­ference on South Asia at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, 1 - 3 November, 1985.

² There are a few exceptions to this pattern. Some commentaries such as “Creative Happiness” (Second Series 1 - 2), “Is there Profound Thinking” and “Immensity” (Second Series 239 - 242) are in the form of reflections without any conversation. Conversely, others like No. 88, “Work” in First Series (250 - 254) does not contain the descriptive reflection of the first part but begins right away with the discussion.

³ Feroze Gandhi compares this to Einstein’s discovery of relativity. See “The Psychological Philosophy of J. Krishnamurti,” M.A. thesis, University of Illinois at Urbana - Champaign, 1973, p. 21.