excerpts

I do not know if you have ever tried to be aware, not only of your reactions, but of the causes behind them - which is not introspection, for it does not concern the self at all.

It is rather the uncovering of the self, the direct experiencing, through inquiry, of the whole structure of the self. To inquire into yourself there can be no authority; no psychologist, no guru can teach you.

To know the extraordinary subtleties of the mind, its contradictions, its urges, its ambitions, frustrations and miseries - to know all that, there must be no sense of condemnation or judgment of what you see. There must be mere observation, which is extraordinarily difficult.

I wonder if you have ever observed anything really - a fly, or a picture, or a sunset, or the beauty of a leaf, or the moonlit waters on a still night. Perhaps you have never really perceived these things. Most of us have not; because the moment we see something, we immediately give it a name, cover it with a symbol, translate it in terms of what we know - which are all distractions preventing direct perception. To see something without naming it, to observe it totally, is possible only when there is no comparison, that is, when the mind is really quiet, silent in its perception.

To find out about oneself, such a mind is necessary: a mind that is capable of looking without interpreting, without condemning, without justifying.

Our tradition, our education, all our moral and religious training, has conditioned us to condemn, to justify, to cover up, not to penetrate. There can be penetration, deep insight, only when your mind is capable of observation without being distracted by any process of evaluation; and unless you know the source of your thinking, you have no basis for thinking at all. Then you are merely a machine, repeating certain ideas, predetermined thoughts.

So, to penetrate deeply into yourself is not introspection; it does not give strength to self-centred activity, but begins to open the door through which you will be able to perceive the whole process of your own mind. And if you go into it very deeply, dying to everything that you have discovered in the process of understanding, you will find that involuntarily, without any compulsion or discipline, the mind comes to a state of quietness, a state of alertness; and it is only then that a radical revolution takes place.

In all these talks you and I are going to discover the ways of the mind; we are going to find out how it is conditioned, shaped as a Hindu or a Moslem, a Parsi or a Christian, a communist or a socialist, and see how it holds on to certain beliefs, to certain ideas or aspirations. We are going to learn about all that, so that our minds are liberated through direct perception, and then we shall have a totally different relationship with society. We cannot exist in isolation, and it is only in relationship that we discover what we are.

We have so many problems that our life is crowded with them. We know life only as a problem, and we never see life as a whole - this extraordinary vastness of a mind that has no barrier, that is not in bondage to experience. We do not know the quality of the mind that is illimitable, eternal. That is why it is very important for each one of us to learn how to listen.

Now, listening is a very difficult thing to do. Most of us never listen. We hear, but we do not listen. Surely, listening implies no interpretation. If I say something, you may listen; but you cease to listen the moment you interpret what you hear according to your background.

Whereas, if there is no interpretation, no evaluation, but a actual listening with your whole being, then you will find in that very act of listening there is a mirror in which you see for yourself what is true and what is false - and that is the beauty of listening.

Just as you have never looked at anything - at a flower, at a star, at a reflection on the water - with your whole being, so you have probably never listened to anything with your whole being. To listen with your whole being is to listen with your conscious mind, with your unconscious mind, and with your body - that is, with all your senses fully awakened. It is only when you listen in this manner that you are able to discern that which is true, and the truth about the false. That is all the mind needs, isn't it? - the capacity to see what is true in ourselves and about ourselves.

To perceive what is true, there must be a total giving of oneself to the thing. If in listening to music you are capable of paying total attention, the music has quite a different meaning. If you are able to give your whole being to a problem, the problem is not. The problem exists only when there is contradiction within ourselves. This inner contradiction can be dissolved only through self-knowledge, and the self is revealed only in relationship with the one or with the many.

All this demands, surely, a tremendous alertness, and everything about us tends to put us to sleep. One of the drugs that put us to sleep is obviously knowledge. A mind that knows can never learn. Another drug is tradition - not only the tradition of centuries, but the tradition of yesterday, the tradition that says "I know, I have experienced".

Knowledge, tradition, and the experiences that one gathers, both the good and the bad, the joyous and the sorrowful all these contribute to put the mind to sleep. And it is only the alert mind, the mind that is constantly questioning, asking, looking into itself and all its activities - it is only such a mind that can discover what is true.

Truth does not demand belief, truth is not the result of experience, truth is something that you perceive directly; but this is possible only when the mind is innocent, not burdened with a thousand and one problems. To die to all that, is the beginning of wisdom.

... if you follow and directly experience what is being said through the observation of your own mind, then together we can go very far. In penetrating deeply within yourself, you will find that the mind becomes completely motionless, spontaneously still and free. That state of quietness is not the result of any discipline, it cannot be brought about through any yogic practice. It is the outcome of understanding oneself. Such a mind is essential to the understanding of the totality of life. Only such a mind can find out what is true, whether there is God.

Most of us are caught in some form of sorrow, turmoil, travail, and we can resolve it only through understanding ourselves - 'ourselves' being the conscious as well as the unconscious.

The more you understand yourself, the more subtle and beautiful you will find the mind to be; and without understanding yourself there is no reality. You may quote the sacred books and affirm your belief in God, but it is all just words without much meaning. What is essential is self-knowledge. To know oneself is not to talk about the Atman, the super-self, and all that business, which is just an invention of the mind.

To know oneself is to know the mind that invents the super-self, that seeks security, that is everlastingly wanting to be settled, undisturbed, reassured.

To know all that through direct observation brings about a spontaneous tranquillity of the mind. And it is only the tranquil mind, the mind that is still, motionless - it is only such a mind that knows the tremendous activity of being totally alive.