90. Got MEDITATION? Excerpts from "Krishnamurti's Notebook", by J. Krishnamurti

Excerpts
from

"Krishnamurti's Notebook",

by

J. Krishnamurti,

Perennial Library,

1976

October 3rd

The clouds

were magnificent;
the horizon
was filled
with them,
except
in the west
where
the sky was clear.
 
Some
were black,
heavy
with
thunder and rain;
others
were
pure white,
full of light
and
splendor.
 
They were
of
every shape
and size,
delicate,
threatening,
billowy;
they were
piled up
one
against
the other,
with
immense power
and
beauty.
 
They seemed
motionless
but
there was
violent movement
within them
and
nothing
could stop
their
shattering
immensity.
 
A gentle wind
was blowing
from the west,
driving these vast,
mountainous clouds
against the hills;
the hills
were giving shape
to
the clouds
and
they
were moving
with
these clouds
of
darkness and light.
 
The hills
with
their
scattered villages,
were
waiting
for the rains
that were
so long
in coming;
they
would soon be
green again
and
the trees
would soon
lose
their leaves
with
the
coming winter.
 
The road
was straight
with
shapely trees
on
either side
and
the car
was
holding the road
at
great speed,
even
at the curves;
the car
was made
to go fast
and
to
hold the road
and
it was
performing very well
that morning.
 
It was
shaped
for speed,
low,
hugging
the road.
 
We were
too soon
leaving
the country
and
entering
into the town
[Rome]
but
those clouds
were there,
immense,
furious
and
waiting.
 
In the middle
of the night
[at Circeo],
when it was
utterly quiet,
save for
an
occasional hoot
of
an owl
which was calling
without a reply,
in
a little house
in
the woods,
meditation
was
pure delight,
without
a
flutter
of thought,
with
its
endless subtleties;
it was
a movement
that
had
no end
and
every
movement
of
the brain
was still,
watching
from
emptiness.
 
It was
an
emptiness
that
had known
no knowing;
it was
emptiness
that
had known
no space;
it
was empty
of
time.

It was

empty,
past
all
seeing,
knowing
and
being.
 
In this
emptiness
there was
fury;
the
fury
of
a storm,
the fury
of
exploding universe,
the
fury
of
creation
which
could never
have
any
expression.
 
It was
the fury
of
all life,
death
and
love.
 
But yet
it
was empty,
a vast,
boundless
emptiness
which
nothing
could ever
fill,
transform
or
cover up.
 
Meditation
was
the
ecstasy
of
this
emptiness.
 
The subtle
inter-relationship
of
the mind,
the brain
and
the body
is
the
complicated play
of
life.

There

is misery
when one
predominates
over
the other
and
the mind
cannot dominate
the brain
or
the
physical organism;
when there
is
harmony
between
the two,
then
the mind
can
consent
to
abide
with them;
it
is not
a
plaything
of
either.
 
The whole
can
contain
the
particular
but
the
little,
the
part,
can
never
formulate
the whole.
 
It is
incredibly subtle
for
the two
to
live together
in
complete harmony,
without one
or
the other
forcing,
choosing,
dominating.
 
The intellect
can
and
does
destroy
the body
and
the body
with
its dullness,
insensitivity
can
pervert,
bring about
the
deterioration
of
the intellect.
 
The neglect
of
the body
with
its
indulgence
and
demanding
tastes,
with
its
appetites
can
make
the body
heavy
and
insensitive
and
so
make
dull thought.
 
And
thought
becoming
more refined,
more cunning
can
and
does
neglect
the
demands
of
the body
which
then
sets about
to
pervert
thought.
 
A fat,
gross
body
does interfere
with
the
subtleties
of
thought,
and
thought,
escaping
from
the conflicts
and
problems
it
has bred,
does
make
the body
a
perverse
thing.
 
The body
and
the brain
have
to be
sensitive
and
in
harmony
to be
with
the
incredible subtleness
of
the mind
which is
ever explosive
and
destructive.
 
The mind
is
not
a plaything
of
the brain,
whose function
is
mechanical.
 
When
the
absolute necessity
of
complete harmony
of
the brain
and
body
is seen,
then
the brain
will
watch over
the body,
not
dominating it
and
this very
watching
sharpens
the brain
and
makes
the body
sensitive.
 
The
seeing
is
the fact
and
with
the fact
there
is
no bargaining;
it
can be
put aside,
denied,
avoided
but
it
still
remains
a
fact.
 
The
understanding
of
the fact
is
essential
and
not
the
evaluation
of
the fact.
 
When
the fact
is seen,
then
the brain
is
watchful
of
the habits,
the
degenerating factors
of
the body.
 
Then
thought
does not
impose
a discipline
on
the body
nor
control it;
for
discipline,
control
makes for
insensitivity
and
any form
of
insensitivity
is
deterioration,
a
withering away.
 
Again
on waking,
when
there were
no cars
roaring
up the hill
and
the smell
of
a small wood
nearby
was
in the air
and
rain
was
tapping
on
the window,
there was
that
otherness
again
filling
the room;
it
was
intense
and
there was
a
sense
of fury;
it
was
the fury
of
a storm,
of
a full,
roaring river,
the
fury
of
innocency.
 
It was
there
in
the room
with
such abundance
that
every form
of
meditation
came
to
an end
and
the brain
was
looking,
feeling
out
of
its own
emptiness.
 
It lasted
for
considerable time
and
in spite
of
the fury
of
its intensity
or
because
of it.
 
The brain
remained
empty,
full
of
that
otherness.
 
It shattered
everything
that
one
thought of,
that
one
felt
or
saw;
it was
an
emptiness
in
which
nothing
existed.
 
It
was
complete
destruction.
 
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