u/inthe_pine

"Sorrow is part of our self-interest, is part of our egotistic self-centred activity. I cry for another, for my son, brother, mother – why? Because I have lost something that I am attached to, lost something which gave me companionship, comfort, etc. And with that ending of that person I realise how utterly empty my life is, or how lonely my life is, and then I cry. And there are many, many thousands of people ready to comfort me, and I slip very easily into that network, into the trap of comfort. There is the comfort of God, which is an image put together by thought, or the comfort of some illusory concept, idea, but it gives me comfort and that is all I care. But I never question the very urge, the desire for comfort, whether there is any comfort at all.⁠"

⁠

⁠

J. Krishnamurti⁠

Bombay (Mumbai) 1985 - Public Talk 3 - Sorrow is part of our self-centred activity⁠

bbbbb

A couple months ago, I heard someone tell a story of a pilot who'd died in a crash on a nearby lake, in a training exercise during WWII. They had worked on the lake when drought exposed part of the propeller and fuselage that'd remained hidden all these years.

He talked about what was known of the pilot. He had come back from many successful, daring missions abroad to train new pilots at home. They talked about what good things people said of his character, of how he'd signed up immediately to protect his community. He began to break down as he told of his young age, only 23 years old when he died on the lake. The story teller apologized and had to take a break.

The idea of this self-sacrifice for the greater good was too much for them, they said. Their own brother was also 23, they relayed, as they became overwhelmed by emotion. Several people tried to comfort him, moved by the apparent sympathy for someone who'd died some +80 years ago. In a few moments they had talked themselves through to somewhere more comfortable and were able to continue.

And now we are asking if this wasn't all self-pity and questioning comfort. So he wasn't really crying for the young man who died in the 1940's: he was reacting to his sentiment. His body felt sorrow relaying the story, from fear of his own death and attachments. From that discomfort his brain predicted sorrow, and then the tears flowed. For at least several minutes.

Kinda messed up when you think about it? That even talking about another persons death, a stranger or a loved one, we only think of ourself?

I could never say to this person, "hey, this is your own selfish pity, knock it off." But I do think there is something to watch in sorrow myself here.

⁠

⁠

"You know, the clever people, the intellectuals have examined all this, the outward processes; they have examined the churches, the beliefs, the dogmas, the saviours, and after examining, they are in despair; and out of despair they have a philosophy to accept the immediate, and to live as completely in the immediate as possible, in the now. I don’t mean that at all. That, any materialistic, any shallow person can do. That’s very easy, not to think about tomorrow, but to live completely today. That’s what most of us do, unfortunately. We don’t have to be very clever. We live for today. That today is extended into many tomorrows. I don’t mean that at all. I mean to die, to deny ambition totally, completely and immediately. That is, to die psychologically to the social structure so that your mind is never caught in time, in ambition to be something or not to be."

https://kfoundation.org/transcript/public-talk-1-london-5-june-1962/

Interesting comparison to the modern "in the now" guru movement.

To live in the now or to die psychologically? I suppose some will argue that to live in the now is to die to the past/future in the same sense, so why is a distinction apparently drawn here? Can I not be relatively in the "now" and yet still carry in my unconcious time, the social structure, ambition..?

"THEY WERE MARCHING in a long procession, the generals with their decorations, bright uniforms, plumed hats, brass breastplates, swords and spurs; the lady in her carriage all dressed up, surrounded by soldiers, more uniforms coming on behind, top hats. People stood gaping at them. They would have liked to be in that procession. If you strip these people of their uniforms, their feathers and their grand-sounding names, they will be like the people standing by the roadside, gaping nobodies. It is the same everywhere: the name, the position, the prestige are what matter. The writer, the artist, the musician, the director, the head of a big company, strip them of their outward show and their small status, and what is left? There are these two things, function and status. Function is exploited to achieve status. Confusion arises when we give status to function, and yet they are always overlapping. The cook is looked down upon, and the man in uniform is respected. In this procession, we are all caught, disrespect for the one and respect for the other.

One wonders if one stripped oneself of the status, the glamour of titles, the furniture, the dead memories, what actually would be left. If one has capacity, that cannot be minimised. However, if such capacity is used to achieve position, power, status, then the mischief begins. Capacity is exploited for money, position, status. If one has no capacity, one may even then have status through money, family, hereditary or social circumstances. All this is vulgarity. We are part of it. What makes us so vulgar, so common and cheap? This ugliness is directly proportionate to the amount of status. Everyone gaping at this endless procession is us. The onlooker who gapes creates the status which he admires, so does the queen in the golden carriage. Both are equally vulgar.

Why are we caught in this stream? Why do we take part in this? The audience is as much responsible for the spectacle as the people strutting on the stage. We are the actors and the audience. When we object to the show of status, it is not that we repudiate status but rather that we attach importance to it; we would like to be there on the stage ourselves – ‘or at least my son…’ We read all this and perhaps smile ironically or bitterly, reflecting on the vanity of the spectacle, but we watch the procession. Why can’t we, when we look at it, really laugh and throw it all aside? To throw it all aside, we must throw it all aside within ourselves, not only outside.

That is why one leaves the world and become a monk or sannyasi. But there too there is peculiar status, position and illusion. The society makes the sannyasi, and the sannyasi is the reaction to society. There too is the vulgarity and the parade. Would there be a monk if there were no recognition of the monk? Is this accolade of recognition any different from the recognition of the generals? We are all in this game, and why are we playing it? Is it the utter inward poverty, the total insufficiency in ourselves, which neither book nor priests nor gods nor any audience can ever fill? Neither your friend nor your wife can fill it. Is it that we are afraid of living with the past, with death?

How we waste our life! In the procession or out of the procession we are always of it, as long as this aching void remains. This is what makes us vulgar, frightened, and so we become attached and depend. And the whole strife of the procession goes on whether you are in it or admiring from the grandstand. To leave it all is to be free of this emptiness. If you try to leave it or determine to leave it, you cannot, for it is yourself. You are of it, so you cannot do anything about it. The negation of this vulgarity which is yourself, is freedom from this emptiness. This negation is the act of complete inaction with regard to emptiness."

From Krishnamurti’s Book CAN THE MIND BE QUIET?

My opine:

What is essential here? To me it would seem to see impartially this "aching void" which we try and do something or stand apart from. All of this action is "the procession" (?). I can play into it, which we essentially all do, or I can try and leave it, and both are the same because thats all me. Me being me.

This is me trying to work through it, here is where its less clear for myself: if I can't do anything about it, because its me, does negation mean not moving in the face of this void, because the moving is me. If there is no moving there is no me. That is possible only when the inadequacy of me is seen for anything other than its movement in this parade. To negate that is to be with emptiness.

Anyone care to discuss?