This Is What Your Tears Really Mean. | Krishnamurti
"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
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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.