In the mid-1980s, I was deeply drawn to self-enquiry in the form of the exploration Who am I? as found in the literature of Shri Ramana Maharshi. After a few years, however, I felt I was hitting a blank wall where a lot of my intellectual unrest remained unanswered. It was then that the teachings of J Krishnamurti (to be referred to as ‘the teachings’ here onwards) made a significant contribution to my understanding of not only Ramana but also of classical Vedānta (the Upanishads and Shankara’s advaita or nondual interpretation).
Light on the self
While the Vedānta tradition speaks of the Self, said to be the indestructible essence in everyone, the teachings here are concerned with the movement of the self, of that centre of pride and hurt in us. I could see that this self is indeed the target of the Who am I? enquiry. Irrespective of whether something known as the Self (which Paul Brunton calls the ‘Overself ’ in his book The Wisdom of the Overself ) survives the erasure of the self, it is fascinating to note that many of these mystics on the high plateau of spiritual wisdom speak of the ending of the ‘separate I-sense’. What is this separate self after all?
The teachings are a remarkable treasure of innumerable insights into the nature of the self, its genesis, its ways and its structure. I was and am inspired by the teachings for the precious light they throw on the intricacies of the emergence of the self. The part that memories play in the creation of the self, the role of attention in preventing its rise and the place of the pure intelligence within us, are among the shining gems in this treasure chest.
No one can deny that human perception of issues is typically conditioned and hardly anyone sees things as they are. The teachings show with clarity and precision that these conditionings are the breeding ground of the self, following which right action can never rise. The eternal relevance of the teachings lies in the fact that contemporary challenges of our society as well as those that will come up in future can be handled maturely only if the stakeholders are aware of their conditioned perception of the challenges. In their application to a wide spectrum of problems, the teachings awaken us to see the distortions that beliefs and biases cause in the very understanding of the problems. A professional or an expert, for example, who may be proud of his knowledge of his subject, will wake up in the light of the teachings to notice his inadequacies as a human being. To be human first and then to use his expertise would be the right order of things. Otherwise it would be a case of putting the cart before the horse.
Untouched by time
The teachings will always be a challenge to the best of human intellects. The sages of yore envisioned a truth that was untouched by time and space. The seers of Upanishads looked at kāla (time) and desha (space) as born of māyā (illusion)1. K’s teachings supply an ingenious approach to the discovery of the truth by asking us to stay with what is. In the process, there is no indulgence of thought in the endless visualizations by the self either on the axis of time or on the vast expanse of space.
What fascinates me in the teachings is how they unravel a great science with statements that are at once precise and mind-blowing. This wisdom of seeing the falsity of the self has its bearing on all the facets of conflict and struggle in human life. No wonder, therefore, that the teachings touch upon countless existential issues while maintaining the undercurrent of self-enquiry. Insecurity or loneliness, ambition or self-importance, love or death, the list of topics on which this exploration throws light is endless.
Precision
Look at a statement such as, ‘Seeing what is transforms it.’ It reads like a mathematical equation where a variable is subjected to a function. We have functions, for example, f1 (x) = x + 1 or f2 (x) = x2 + 2x + 1, in each of which the variable x is transformed. What is is the variable here and ‘seeing’ is the function. The function of seeing perhaps is the subtlest of all functions possible in this universe.
Our attention is thus drawn to the mightiest tool for inner change. Understanding, and not doing something, is the special power inherent in every one of us that can usher in radical change. While the whole world is generally obsessed with right action, right speech and right thinking, here comes a fresh breeze of insight that highlights the place of ‘right seeing.’ Thought, word and deed are the nuts and bolts of an industry running into billions of dollars, claiming to rehabilitate humanity. Countless motivational workshops promise us guidance on right ways to act, the best ways to communicate and healthy ways to think. ‘Right seeing’ as the source of right thought, word and deed is mostly neither understood nor appreciated.
‘Right seeing’ (samyag-darshana in Sanskrit) takes pride of place in the advanced teachings of Buddhism and Advaita Vedānta. The latter, with which this author is familiar, considers ‘right seeing’ as the culmination of a prolonged study of scriptures (Upanishads). The flavour, therefore, is of arriving at a certain maturity where one sees rightly and is blessed with the insight that the self is false. The flavour of K’s teachings, in contrast, is one of starting with enquiry and questioning one’s own current seeing. Saying that “the first step is the last step”, Krishnaji leaves no room for either engagement with conceptual frameworks or entertaining ideas of gradual arrival.
“The unwise do not arrive at peace either by effort or by staying idle. The wise, on the other hand, are free of all conflict by mere right seeing”, says the sage Asthāvakra in Asthāvakra Geetā2.
Time is bondage
“Tell me that, knowing which everything is known”, is how a major Upanishad3 begins. (The verbal root to know is not to be taken here as implying accumulative knowledge but pointing at an insight or a special perception). The query, therefore, envisages a certain understanding where, at one go, all sense of incompleteness vanishes. In K’s teachings we find a tremendous thrust on this liberating understanding, to the exclusion of multiple suggestions as to how we may arrive at such an understanding. The teachings seem to abhor any proposal of philosophical constructs that claim to prepare one’s mind for the liberating insight.
Time (which means psychological time, of course) is looked at as a major trap where one’s mind gets caught. It then amounts to opening a can of worms leading to varieties of exploitation. Time comes in the way of ‘right seeing.’ Time sustains the countless notions of the self, all of which stand under one banner, namely illusion. Time and (psychological) thought go hand in hand. Therefore, time is bondage.
It is indeed fascinating to note that the way out of bondage is ‘here and now’. The old habit of our mind is to visualize emancipation at a distant place and at a distant point of time. We fancy going to a Himalayan cave and getting some extraordinary experience, which then completely transforms us. The teachings, which have nothing against the Himalayas, clarify that this thought of ‘there and then’ needs to be questioned. What is more, there is first the presumption that I am bound, I am not ‘all right,’ I need to change or I should live differently. Behind and beneath all these thoughts, there is the self, which itself is put together by thought.
Awareness, the light within us
‘Living in attention’ is yet another way to appreciate the main aspects of the teachings. “Awareness is the ultimate reality”, says an Upanishad4. It is fascinating to see the possibility that all the structures of thought collapse like a house of cards in the light of awareness. The flame of attention burns away all psychological baggage without leaving behind any residue. The self is the residue of experiences in which there is no direct, unbiased perception. This self comes to an end when we stay in awareness, marked by unconditioned observation.
The world brought to us by thought is of questionable reality. That presented before us by the senses is of dubious credentials. Our joys and sorrows, our celebration and mourning, take place on the platform of our psychological conditioning. Enquiry, therefore, is of utmost relevance. Questioning our moments of elation and depression can lead to uncovering a lot of assumptions and presumptions, bias and prejudice. Insight and intelligence operate in us to show how not only are others not as we thought them, we ourselves are not what we took ourselves to be. Discovery of the true nature of the world around and reassessment of our own true nature go hand in hand. The outer world surely has a totally different meaning to us when the falsity of the self dawns upon us.
Pure awareness, free of the self, seems to be hinted at by an Upanishadic line—that (truth) is devoid of breath (prāna) and mind5. Breath and mind here stand for the numerous components that put together the self. Many factors make us carry an idea of who we are. Our looks, our bank balance, our image in society, our academic qualifications, the positions we have held, all contribute to the collection of memories which build the self. In gentle awareness, and not through analysis by thought, there is the seeing that exposes the self. All our notions of being good or bad, high or low, are then seen to be invalid. Awareness remains as a bright flame and individuality takes a backseat.
Negation, the amazing process
“Not this, not this”, is the celebrated statement6 of Rishi Yājnavalkya, who points out that the ultimate truth can never be described or defined; one knows it by negating everything that it is not. Words and thoughts fail in their attempt to grasp the truth. Speech and mind are very powerful tools to define, describe or supply an outline of billions of things, gross or subtle. They are, however, more an entrapment than any help, with one exception. When words are used to show their own limitation, they act differently. In such a case, they are not at all attempting to take ‘truth’ in their ambit; on the contrary, they are surrendering to the infinite (ananta), with the complete submission that the truth is beyond their ken.
‘Let go’ is often said to be the essence of the high ground of maturity. We hold on to things, stick to relationships and stay attached to positions. On an inner plane, it is an image of the self to which we tenaciously cling, though that image constantly changes with or without our knowledge. It is easy to say, ‘let go.’ This renunciation can truly take place when there is the insight that what we are holding on to is false. Once more it is understanding or awareness that makes the leap happen. We do not leap; but the leap takes place in the light of the understanding. Questioning leads to that to which we are clinging, being exposed as being hollow or irrelevant. Negation automatically occurs.
Being and becoming
‘Staying free of the ego’ is regarded as the way to freedom and not any karma (action) or upāsana (worship, conscious meditation). ‘Staying’ (nisthā) is ‘being’ while any action—gross or subtle, physical or mental—is aimed at ‘becoming’. The least intention of becoming something or somebody betrays the presence of ego, the separate self. People with less knowledge of the Upanishadic lore believe it is merely grand concepts, rosy speculations and certain metaphysical suggestions that are intellectually appealing. What is more, the Vedānta is regarded as an endless study of books (scriptures). When they engage in advanced study, they take cognizance of Vedānta’s emphasis on ‘staying as awareness, free of the self ’ (ātma-nisthā)7. Such students of the tradition get pleasantly surprised when they find the teachings laying stress on ‘doing nothing’ and ‘quiet observation’.
The ego processes fall like a house of cards when there is silent watching. We do not long to become anything any more, even though in the phenomenal world becoming somebody, occupying a chair, holding some position are a part of the running show. Wanting to become—inwardly—is of course different from getting a designation outwardly. We are nobody or nothing when the self is not raising its head. That does not come in the way of functionality.
Conclusion
Responsible students or teachers of Vedānta, if they study the teachings, abstain from indulging, for mere pleasure, in the exercise of comparison between their holy books and the teachings. They rather take a look at both the disciplines with a discerning eye. They find their understanding of life, more than of any book, becomes deeper by a careful study of either the Upanishads or the teachings. This article too is written in that spirit and has no intention to prove any point. May we understand this marvellous puzzle, filled with much joy and much suffering, called human life, exactly as it is. In seeing things as they are, we can perhaps come upon peace.
Endnotes
1 māyā-kalpita-desha-kāla… in Dakshināmurti Stotra of Shankara.
2 aprayatnād prayatnād vā…, Asthāvakra Geetā, 18.34
3 kasmin vijnāte… Mundaka Upanishad, 1.1.3
4 prajnānam brahma, Aitareya Upanishad, 3.1.1
5 aprāno hi amanāh shubhrah, Mundaka Upanishad, 2.1.2
6 sa esha neti neti ātmā, Brihadāranyaka Upanishad, 4.2.4
7 mochayet sakalān bandhān ātma-nisthā eva kevalam, Ramana Geetā, ch 1.