Public Talk 6, Saanen, 20 July 1967

We will continue with what we were talking over together the other day, which was the whole complex problem of fear. I think we should bear in mind that we are concerned not merely about the peripheral changes, but rather a radical revolution in the very psyche itself. That’s what we are concerned with — that we must, as we have discussed during the last five gatherings here, understand the psychological structure of not only society in which we live, but also of the structure and the nature of ourselves. The two are not separate; society and ourselves are not separate. We are the society and obviously living in a world that’s so confused, so antagonistic, at war, we ourselves, if we wish, we must bring about a revolution in ourselves. That’s the primary issue at all times. And the more one is serious, not merely concerned with superficial changes, but really concerned, not only with the world, with its misery, with its devilment, but also with our own structure and nature of ourselves, it seems to me one must become very, very serious. We are serious about certain things which give us a great deal of pleasure, a great deal of satisfaction, we want to pursue that pleasure at any price, whether it be sexual or ambitious, or some kind of gratification. But very few of us are serious in the sense that seeing the whole problem of existence, the conflicts, the wars, the anxieties, the despairs, the loneliness, the suffering, we must be serious about these fundamental issues. And to be serious means a continual attention about these matters. Not sporadic interest, not an interest occasionally you give when you have a problem that is biting you, but this seriousness must be our background from which we think, we live and act. Otherwise we fritter away our life, it is such a waste of energy, discussing endlessly about things that really don’t matter. And the more one is serious inwardly, the more there is maturity. Maturity is not a matter of age, surely? Not a matter of gathering a great many experiences or accumulating a great deal of knowledge. But rather this maturity, I think, which has nothing to do with age and time, comes within this quality of seriousness. And that maturity is only possible when there is wider and deeper knowing of oneself. And this quality of maturity, must it be left to time, to circumstances, to inclination, or to a particular form of tendency? That is, a fruit ripens during the summer and is ready to fall in the autumn. That takes time, many days of rain, sunshine, cloudy weather, and cold, and then with all the adversity of climate it is ready to be taken away.

And is this maturity a matter of adversity? Because I feel there is no time to waste, and one must be mature immediately, not biologically, not physiologically, but mature inwardly, completely ripe, totally. And is that a matter of adversity, experience, knowledge, time, days, climate, weather and so on? I think this is an important question to ask of ourselves, because we mature, unfortunately, rather too early biologically, and die biologically, physically, before we have understood the whole meaning of life. And we spend our days in regret, in remembrances, in building an image about ourselves. And will this bring about maturity? Or is maturity something that is immediate, and is not touched by time at all? Do please ask yourself this question. Because we are here not to listen to talks, to endless discussions, verbal exchange, piling up of words, we are here, it seems to me, and I say this with humility, not to accumulate knowledge, experience, but rather to see things directly and immediately as they are. And I think in that lies the quality of maturity, in which there is no deception, no dishonesty, no double thinking, no double standards: to see ourselves actually as we are, without any fear, without the image which we have built about ourselves — because each one of us has an image of what we should be, we have an idea that we are great, or very uninteresting, dull, mediocre people. Or, we have a feeling that we are extraordinarily affectionate, superior, full of wisdom, knowledge. We have a picture of ourselves which denies totally the perceiving of the immediate, of ‘what is’. There is a conflict between the image and ‘what is’. And it seems to me, maturity is a state of mind in which the image is not and only ‘what is’, in which there is no conflict whatsoever. A mind that is in conflict is not mature, whether that conflict be with the family, with oneself, with one’s desires, with one’s ambitions, fulfilment. Conflict at any level surely indicates a mind that is not mature, ripe, clear, always seeking, demanding, hoping. Such a mind surely can never mature.

And when we are discussing, talking over together this question of fear, we must bear all this in mind. Not just a fear, not a particular form of fear in which one is caught, but that fear which expresses itself in different ways. Desire changes its object — when one is young, one may want all kinds of pleasurable, enjoyable, sensuous things, and as one grows older desire changes its object, it gets more and more and more complex — but it’s still desire although the object of that desire changes. In the same way there is fear only, not the varieties of fears. And when we, as we shall, go into this question of fear, we must also bear in mind that one must see the totality of fear and not the fragmentary nature of fear. One may be afraid of the neighbour, of the wife, of death, of loneliness, of old age, of never having loved, or never knowing what love is. One may never know what this sense of complete abandonment is, because it is only in the total abandonment of oneself there is beauty. And not knowing all this, one is afraid, not only of the known but also of the unknown. So one must, it seems to me, consider fear totally, not the fragmentary fears in which one is caught.

So the question then is: can one perceive the totality of fear? Can one see completely fear, and not its various aspects? I may be afraid of death and you may be afraid of loneliness, another may be afraid of not becoming famous, or living a life which is so boring, lonely, drugged, weary — a routine. One may be afraid of so many things. And I’m afraid we are apt to wish that we would like to solve each fear by itself, one by one. And such a desire, such a wish seems to me to be immature, for there is only fear. And can the mind see only fear and not the different forms of fear? You understand my question? Am I making myself clear? No? Because it seems to me rather important to see fear completely, not of what I am afraid of. Now, how is it possible to see so totally, not only fear but also all these different aspects of it? Not only the central structure and nature of fear but also the fear of the dark, the fear of walking alone, the fear of the wife or the husband, of losing a job, because if I could understand the central nature of fear I can then begin to examine all the details. But if I merely look at the detail then I shall never come to the central issue.

So how is one to see the totality of that? Most of us, when there is fear, we are apt to run away from it, or suppress it, control it, or turn to some form of escape; that is what most of us do. We do not know how to look. We do not know how to live with that fear. That is, can I see fear? All right, take your own fear. Most of us are afraid of something, unfortunately, from childhood till we die, living in such a corrupt, stupid society, the education that we receive all engenders this fear, and we have some kind of fear. Take your particular fear, if you are at all aware of it: watch your reactions, look at it. Can you look at it without any movement of escape, justification, or suppression — just to look at it. I may have a particular fear of disease, and can I look at it without any tremor, without any escape, without any hope — just to look at it? And I think this is very important, how to look. I think the whole problem lies in that word ‘to look’, ‘to see’ and ‘to listen’. Can I look at that fear without the word which causes that fear? Please follow this a little bit. Without the word which arouses fear, like death? The word itself brings a tremor, anxiety; as the word ‘love’ has its own tremor, its own image. And can I look at that fear without the word, without any reaction, of justification, or acceptance, or denial, just to look at it? I can only look when the mind is very quiet. That is, I can only listen to what you are saying when my mind is not chattering with itself, carrying on a dialogue with itself — then I can listen to what you are saying completely. But if I am carrying on my own conversation, with my own problems, anxieties, I am incapable of listening to you. In the same way can I look at that fear, or any problem that one has, just to look at it, without trying to solve it, without trying to build courage and all the rest of that silly stuff, but merely to observe? And one can observe a cloud, a tree or a movement of the river with fairly quiet mind because it is something that is not very important to each one of us. But when there is fear, despair, when you are directly in contact with loneliness, with an ugly state of mind, with jealousy, just look at it, so completely that your mind is so quiet that it can see.

And it seems to me such a quiet mind is not to be cultivated, because a mind that is made to be quiet is a stagnant mind, is a silly mind, it has no quality of depth, width and beauty. But when you are serious and you want to see completely fear, because fear is a dreadful thing, you must know what it is, you must have had fear; how it warps, twists, how it darkens the days, and if you are at all serious you no longer want to live with that kind of thing. And so you become serious, you become intense. It’s like living with a serpent in your room, you watch every movement, you are very, very sensitive to the least noise it makes. And to observe fear one has to live with it. To understand anything you must live with it, you must observe it, you must know all its content, its nature, its structure, its movement. Otherwise you can’t learn about it. Can one live with fear? Have you ever tried living with anything; living with yourself first, living with your wife or husband? If you have tried living with yourself you then begin to see that yourself is not a static state, it’s a living thing. And to live with a living thing (please follow this, watch it in yourself), to live with a living thing, your mind must also be alive. And it cannot be alive if it is caught in opinions, in judgements, in values. Right? And to live with a living thing is one of the most difficult things to do, and that’s why all relationships go wrong: because we are not living with the living things but we are living with the image, and therefore the image is a dead thing to which we are adding.

And to live with fear, which is living, requires a mind and a heart that are extraordinarily supple, that have no conclusion, no formula, and therefore can follow every movement of fear. Then if you so observe and live with it — and this doesn’t take a whole day, it can take a second, a minute, and you know the whole nature of fear. And if you live with it so completely, then inevitably you will ask: who is the entity that is living with fear? You are following? Who is it that is living with it, that’s following it, that’s observing it? Who is the observer? And what is he observing? May I go on or are you getting too tired with all this? I hope you are not merely hearers who just hear words, but rather participating in what is being said, sharing together and therefore you become much more intense — you are working, not the speaker.

So you are asking yourself: who is the observer who is living, watching, taking into account all the movement of various forms of fear and also aware of the central fact of fear? That is, who is the observer? Is the observer a dead entity, a static being, because he has accumulated a lot of knowledge, a lot of information about himself, he has learnt so much, he has had so many experiences, and these experiences, knowledge, the infinite varieties of loneliness, suffering, all that is the past, a dead thing, the memories; and is that dead thing observing, living with the movement of fear? You are following all this? Is the observer static? Is the observer the past? Or, is the observer a living thing? What is your answer? Don’t answer me please. What is your answer? Are you the dead entity that is watching a living thing? Or a living thing watching a living thing? Because in the observer the two states exist. Right? When you observe a tree, you observe with the biological knowledge of that tree, botanical knowledge of that tree, and also you are watching the movement of that tree, which is living; the wind among the leaves, among the branches, how the trunk moves with the wind, which is a living thing, and you are looking at it with the accumulated knowledge about that tree. And that knowledge is a dead thing. Or, are you looking without any accumulated knowledge and therefore you, who are a living thing, are looking at a living thing. Is this fairly clear? That is, the observer is both the past and the living present. Right? But the observer is the past, which touches the living present. I wonder if you’re getting all this?

Look, sirs, let’s make it much nearer. Let’s forget about the tree. Can you, who are the observer, look at your wife, your friend, boy friend or girl friend, and when you observe, are you observing with the memories of yesterday or observing as though there were no yesterday at all? And to be aware that yesterday is also contaminating the present. So the observer is both the past and the living present. Right? And the past is always overshadowing the present, the past memory — what she said to me, what he said to me — the pleasure, the flattery of yesterday, the insult of yesterday, touches the present and therefore gives it a twist. And so the observer is both the past and the present and, therefore, he is half alive and half dead. And with death and life he is looking, with the dead and the living leaf. And is there an observer who is neither, who is not of the past or of the present in terms of time? Right?

Now, let’s proceed. There is the observer, the observer is the past, that’s fairly clear — the image, the symbol, the idea, the ideologies and so on — the past. And also he is actively present, actively examining, looking, observing, listening. That listening, that looking is touched by the past. Obviously. So the observer is still within the field of time. Right? And when he observes the object, whatever it is, fear, within the field of time — please follow — within the field of time, he is not seeing the totality of fear. Obviously. So the observer is not only of the past but of the present, in which there are the remembrances of the past. And can that observer go beyond, which is, he is neither the past nor the present, and therefore the observer is the observed, which is the living? Have you got something or not? I am not sure I’m getting it either! Because it’s a very serious thing, what we are talking about. Because this is real meditation and it is very difficult to express in words the nature of that state of mind in which not only there is the past, as the observer, but also the observer who is actually observing, listening, and that observing, that seeing, that listening has a chapter, a root in the past. And because that observer who lives in the past and in the present, which is touched by the past, there is a division between the observer and the observed. Are you all going to sleep? And the space, this time-interval between the observer and the observed, comes to an end only when there is another quality, which is not of time at all, which is neither the past nor the present. Then only is the observer the observed, which is not a process of identification with the observed.

You know, I was told by someone who knew about these things, who has studied, that in ancient China before a painter of nature or of human beings, a painter, sat in front of a tree for days, months, years, it doesn’t matter, until he was the tree. Not that he became the tree, not that he identified himself with the tree, but he was the tree. You understand? Which means there was no space between the observer and the observed, there was no experience as the observer experiencing the beauty, the movement, the shadow, the depth of a leaf, the quality of colour. He was totally the tree. And in that state only he could paint. And that existed also in ancient India. They were not trying to be fashionable, non-objective, non this and that and all the modern tricks.

So we are saying identification with something is fairly easy and that leads to greater conflict, greater misery, greater loneliness. Most of us identify ourselves with our family, with our husband, with our wife, with our nation, and that has led to great misery, to great wars. But we are talking of something entirely different and you must understand this, not verbally, in your core, in your heart, right at the root of your being, then you will see that you will for ever timelessly be free of fear. And it’s only then you will know what love is.

So one must understand the observer, not the thing observed, that has very little value. Fear has very little value actually, if you come to think of it. But what has value is how you look at the fear, what you do with fear, or what you should not do with fear: the analysis, the seeking of the cause of fear, the everlasting questioning, asking, dreaming, all that, which is the observer. So the observer has a greater value than the thing observed. And as one looks at the observer, which is yourself, yourself is not only of the past; dead memories, remembrances, hopes, guilt, knowledge — and all knowledge is always in the past. When you say ‘I know’ you mean ‘I know you as you were yesterday.’ I don’t know you actually now. And so yourself is the past, living in the present, touched by the past, overshadowed by the past, and the tomorrow is waiting, which also is part of the observer. All that is within the field of time in the sense as yesterday, today and tomorrow. And that’s all we know. And with this state of mind, as the observer, we look at fear, at jealousy, at war, at the family, that ugly, enclosing entity called the family, and with that we live, that is the observer. And the observer is always trying to solve the problem of the thing which is observed, which is the challenge, which is the new. And therefore you are always translating the new in terms of the old, and therefore always, everlastingly, until you come to an end, in conflict.

And one cannot understand intellectually, verbally, argumentatively, through explanations, a state of mind in which the observer has no longer the space between himself and the thing observed. Which means the past is no longer interfering at any time. Only then the observer is the observed. Only then fear comes totally to an end. Because as long as there is fear there is no love.

We were discussing with a group of people yesterday, here in the tent, and they asked: what is love. You know there are so many explanations about love: sex, belonging to somebody, being not dominated by somebody, being nourished psychologically by another, all this sex, thought, thinking about sex, all that is generally understood as love. In that there is always this anxiety, fear, jealousy, guilt and a hundred different things. Surely, where there is conflict there is no love. This is not an aphorism to learn but rather to observe in oneself; do what you will, as long as there is fear, as long as there is any form of jealousy, anxiety, you cannot possibly love. And so love has nothing whatsoever to do with pleasure and desire. Pleasure goes with fear. And a mind that lives in fear must obviously always be seeking pleasure. And pleasure only increases fear. And so one is caught in this vicious circle. And to be aware of that vicious circle, just to watch it, live with it, never trying to find a way out of it, then you break the circle — the circle is broken not because you are doing anything about it. And then only where there is no pleasure, no desire, no fear, then there is something called love.

Sorry I’ve talked so long. Do you want to ask any questions about what we have discussed this morning?

Questioner: It seems to me that fear is necessary to our self-protection.

Krishnamurti: Yes, sir, that’s fairly clear, isn’t it? Physically — I must repeat the question. Fear is directly related to biological existence. As long as one must have security, physical security there must be fear. Obviously it is true. As long as I depend for food and shelter on somebody I must be afraid, physically, of not having food tomorrow. But modern society sees — the welfare society — sees that you have food and shelter and clothing. But even though you may have food, clothes and shelter which are absolutely necessary, yet beyond that there is fear, because I want to be secure psychologically in my relationship with another, I want to be secure in my position, in a position which I have built as of the most extraordinary importance, a position which gives me a status, a regard from others. So there are not only physical fears but also psychological fears. The psychological fears have created a society which sustains, which maintains, the physical fears. Look, sirs, the psychological fears come into being when we are Germans, French, English, Russian, with our nationalities, with our stupid flags, with our kings and queens and separate armies and all that immature, childish nonsense. That nonsense is destroying us. We are spending millions and millions on armament, destroying others. And there is no security for us, physically, even. Not here in Switzerland, or in Holland, or in England but go to India, go to the Middle East, go to Vietnam, for which we are all responsible.

So, what is important first, is to understand and therefore go beyond, above, the psychological securities, the vested interests which we have in nationalities, in the family, and all the rest of that, in religions. Then we shall have physical security, then there will be no wars.

Q: Sir, how is it that the dead past has such an overwhelming influence over the actual present?

K: How is it that the dead past has such an extraordinary dominance over the present, over the thing which I think is the living? Wait, sir, see the difference. How is it that the dead past has such control over the thing which I think is living? I think it is living. But is it living? Or we are only the dead past, which we are trying to give life in the present. You understand, sir, the question? Which means are you living? You understand — living? That is, you may breathe, you may eat, you may have sexual experience, you may climb the mountain, but all those are mechanical actions. But are you actually living? Or are you living, or is the past living in the present? And therefore you are not living at all, only the past continuing in the present, giving it a quality of living. I don’t know if you have ever observed yourself. What is ‘yourself’? There is ‘the yourself’ which is the dead weight of the past. And you say you are living in the present. What is the thing that says: I am living? That consciousness which says: I am alive — apart from the physical organism which has its own responses, its own motivation and you know all the rest of it — what is that thing that says: I am alive? Is it thought? Is it a feeling? If it is thought, obviously thought is always the old. Right? Ah, you don’t see that, sir. If you really saw thought is always the old, if you really saw it as you feel hunger, then you would see what you think is living is only a modified continuation of the past, which is thinking. And is there any other living thing? Not God in you, which again is another form of thought. Right? The thought has invented God, because thought in itself is so uncertain, so flexible, so dead, it has to invent a living thing. And when you look at all this, which is yourself, is there really — please listen — is there really a living thing, living independent of any motive, any stimulation, any dependence, a living thing that is not subject to circumstances, to tendencies, to inclination? Go into yourself, sir, and you’ll find out. Find out and if you can live with what you have found out then perhaps you will be able to go beyond it and come upon something that is timelessly living.