11. Commentaries on Living

First published in September 1956, Commentaries on Living is the first part of a trilogy in which K reflects on his own life and recounts his conversations with people who came to see him.

In the first chapter, K recounts how he was approached by three pious egoists: a sannyasi who had renounced the world, an Orientalist who believed in brotherhood; and a utopian who wanted to realise an ideal society. All three were ardently attached to their particular form of belief, and, in a strange way, all were ruthless.

The sannyasi said he was preparing himself for his next life. He said that there he would no longer have the weaknesses he has now. His focus was on the future. He believed that if there were no tomorrow, we could vegetate or be like the pacific cows. He wanted to become wiser and stronger, step by step. To him, today was merely a stepping stone, and he was impatient with the present.

The man of brotherhood was more learned, pleasant, and convincing. He had also reserved a place of refuge for himself in the future. Death would bring him closer to the divine niche that would enable him to live in this sorrowful and ugly world.

The utopian was a strange combination of idealist and the practical man. He knew what the future would be like. This was described in a book that he firmly believed in. He believed that corrupt society must be destroyed and a new world must be built in its place. His greatest passion was the man of the future, and he believed that achieving this goal justified any means necessary.

All three lived for the future. They were not ambitious in the worldly sense, but in a much more subtle way. The sannyasi strives for his goal; the representative of the brotherhood strives for exaltation, and the utopian identifies with a group that believes it has the power to change the world.

However, none of them see how their desires deny peace, brotherhood, and supreme happiness. The now has greater significance than the desired tomorrow. Becoming does not contain being; it is merely modified continuity. Radical transformation occurs only in the present, in being.

Ecstasy in the Midst of Stupor

All 88 chapters of the book are short stories, revealing a different K than the one in the talks. His observations of nature and humanity are sensitive, accurate, and unpretentious. They are often candid and surprising, and sometimes almost ruthlessly apt.

Driving past a wealthy neighbourhood, K writes:

"However cultured, unobtrusive, ancient or polished, the rich have an impenetrable and assured aloofness, that inviolable certainty and hardness that is difficult to break down. They are not the possessors of wealth, but are possessed by wealth, which is worse than death.

Their conceit is philanthropy they think they are trustees of their wealth; they have charities, create endowments; they are the makers, the builders, the givers. They build churches, temples, but their god is the god of their gold.

With so much poverty and degradation, one must have a very thick skin to be rich. Some of them come to question, to argue, to find reality. For the rich as for the poor, it is extremely difficult to find reality. The poor crave to be rich and powerful, and the rich are already caught in the net of their own action; and yet they believe and venture nearby.

They speculate, not only upon the market, but upon the ultimate. They play with both, but are successful only with what is in their hearts. Their beliefs and ceremonies, their hopes and fears have nothing to do with reality, for their hearts are empty.

The greater the outward show, the greater the inward poverty."

My Comfortable Cage

Looking at a temple in India, K says that the rituals lull people to sleep. In this dreamy slumber, people may experience a momentary sense of peace and comfort, but their daily lives remain unchanged.

You can convert from one belief to another, but you can never be converted to an understanding of reality. Belief is not reality. Truth is not a conviction; it is not based on past experience. Memory is always dead, only coming to life in contact with the living present.

Religious groups try to convert us to a more or less reasonable dogma, superstition or hope. They offer a better cage. It may be or it may not be comfortable, but either way it is a prison.

Conversion is going on all the time religiously and politically. This process involves mutual exploitation. Truth is outside of all patterns, fears and hopes.

Rituals obviously create an atmosphere in which participants feel good, providing a vital contrast to the everyday humdrum life. However, as with all stimulants, they soon dull the mind and heart.

A Flash in Darkness

In chapter nine, K describes knowledge as a flash of light in the darkness. However, it cannot go above and beyond that darkness. Knowledge is essential to technique, like coal to an engine, but it must not be caught in the net of the known.

Worshipping knowledge is a form of idolatry. The cloak of knowledge can conceal, but it can never liberate us from our ever-increasing confusion and sorrow.

In the book, K is visited by several high-ranking politicians, a guru and his disciples, a prominent news reporter, a communist, a believer in Masters, a childless couple, a career woman, a businessman, a civil servant and a scientist. K comments on city life, music on the radio, natural phenomena such as animals, trees and the sky.

One visitor asks K to cure his half-blind son, while another talks about his guru, a spiritual leader who was 'too great a man to be described'. This guru used brutal shocks, foul language, insults and contradictory actions to force people to think and take notice. He believes that most people are asleep and need to be shaken.

His followers accept this crude procedure because they want to be bullied and controlled, either gently or brutally. This will never lead to happiness or an understanding of reality.

Work or Hurt?

In the last story, K asked a government minister which was more important to him: his work, or not hurting people and not creating enmity. He replied that, in his job, he has to hurt others even if he doesn't want to.

K said that his answer shows that, for the minister, work is a means to an end. It provides the means to make him happy, and this is what most people strive for, regardless of the consequences.

Arrogant people often get their own way, at the expense of hurting others.

Observe to Understand

In December 1956, K met the 21-year-old Dalai Lama, who was eager to meet him on his first trip to India.

The meeting was brief, but it left a positive impression on the Dalai Lama. The two men were due to meet again on 31 October 1984 in New Delhi, but the meeting was cancelled following Indira Gandhi's assassination.

During a talk in Madras in December, K was asked what he meant by understanding. Was it the same as awareness or right thinking?

K replied that thinking is based on memory. It is not free. There can be no understanding without right thinking. If we want to understand a child, we must observe him when he plays, sleeps, when he cries, when he is mischievous. We must not judge him, compare with his older brother, nor assume he is different. If we don't observe, we won't understand.

Understanding the mind requires, first of all, examining your own mind as it works. Secondly, this examination must not be limited to the conscious mind. We all have hidden motives, unused capacities, and unconscious limitations. We know very little about this area because it only reveals itself through hints and clues. However, it is not a mystery. Our mind reacts to everything that happens and reveals itself.

A Dead Memory Cannot Be Revived

In New Delhi, K made a distinction between experiencing and the experience. Experiencing is a living process, whereas what is experienced is a memory of something that is over. Most people mainly live in the latter and accumulate memorable experiences. We travel in order to tell others about our experiences.

However, a dead past cannot be revived. Religion is not a matter of revival. Neither Hindus nor Christians will find the truth if they seek it with a conditioned mind.

K began his sixth talk by stressing the importance of approaching problems rightly. If we don't, the problems will increase. The more civilisation has progressed, the more complex the problems of living have become.

Many people say they agree with K that we need to break free from conditioning, but they disagree on how to do so.

K replied that agreeing does not mean understanding. In fact, it doesn't mean anything, because we cannot agree with a fact – only with an opinion. K says he has no opinion on anything.

When you see a cobra, you act immediately. However, when you realise that you are conditioned, you conclude that you must get rid of it. In the first case, we are reacting to a fact; in the second, to a conclusion. Seeing the truth would free us, but the mind cannot see its own bondage.

The very perception of what is true is the liberating factor. This requires total attention. There is the cessation of all effort.

Everything for Everyone

In December in Madras, K emphasised how important it is to be humble and sensitive in order to love. We have become adept at repeating the words of others and arguing our opinions in debates, yet we have not learned to love.

To love, we must be sensitive not only to beauty, but also to the ugliness. We must see the stars in the night sky, the trees, the children, the dirty village, the bus driver and the politician. Seeing sensitively is to love, and it is the answer to all problems which the mind creates.

At the end of the fourth talk, someone asked K had how he had managed to be liberated despite being born in a poor village and not having studied the scriptures.

K replied that there is a reality that everyone can realise immediately rather than through a process of time. Seeing it transforms the mind. It has a being of its own. We cannot seek or define it, nor can we do anything about it. If we find it, everything becomes possible because it is creation, love and compassion. We cannot come to it by any means, such as a book, guru or organisation.

No meditation will lead us to it.

We will realise that the mind is merely an instrument of that creation. This creation, operating through the mind, will bring about a totally different world because it is its own reality, its own eternity.

Faith Blocks the Light

All five of the talks K gave in Ceylon in January 1957 were broadcast. He began by stressing that he was not trying to teach anything to anyone. The talks are about learning and exploring the nature of truth together.

It is foolish to create a teacher-pupil setup when studying the mind because instructions distract from the facts and turn the process into a conceptual one. By listening to the teacher, the student stops following their own thoughts.

The first two questions dealt with religion.

First, K asked whether someone who practises a religion can be religious. Why do we need religion at all? All religions offer a path to truth or to God, but are any of them right? Why do we need a mediator, someone to interpret the truth that is in front of us?

Blinded by faith, people cannot see the truth. Words that question their convictions do not sink in. They either reject them, tolerate them, or become angry.

"Religions, organised beliefs, divide and destroy people. See what is happening in the world. There are Catholics and Protestants, Northern Buddhists and Southern Buddhists, Hindus, Moslems, and so on. Religions has been divided by man, it has become a form of vested interest", K said.

If we strip ourselves of all labels and remain as simple human beings, we create a different world.

Religions have failed totally. Our minds are confused. You may mutter prayers, go to the temple, follow a routine or practice, but that is not religion. A confused mind seeks guidance, but at its core there is uncertainty and a lack of clarity of thinking.

We are confused because we rely on authority. To K, this is the most destructive form of existence, because it leads to tyranny. When we live in a cage of authority, we lose the capacity to think clearly.

We must reject both external and internal authority. It is the only way to find truth.

Unexpected Break

After the last talk in Bombay on 3 March 1957, an unexpected break of a year and a half ensued. K had been scheduled to fly to Finland, but after discussing things with Rajagopal in Rome in April, K cleared his calendar for the rest of the year.

At the end of May, K visited Gstaad, a town in the Swiss mountains. Four years later, from 1961 to 1985, summer gatherings began to be held there every summer.

In June 1957, K and Rajagopal stayed at the Hotel Montesano in Villars. K stayed there alone after Rajagopal left for Ojai. There was a crisis in their relationship. Rajagopal no longer wanted to organise K's tours.

K flew to India in November and did not give any talks until September 1958, when he delivered a series of six talks in Poona. In October, he gave talks in Madras, and in November in Bombay.

The difficulty of communication was the subject of the Madras series. K said that it is impossible to be understood correctly if the other person only listens to their own interpretation.

We may look at the sky through a window and see only a small part of it. We recognise it, but we do not feel it deeply. We also lack vitality. We reduce everything we experience to the size of our minds, to formulas and concepts.

In November 1958, K signed a document transferring the copyright of all his writings to Rajagopal. The timing was rather odd, given that the dispute between the two men was quite recent. The agreement was the subject of a long legal battle, which ended with K regaining the copyright to his books in 1974.

The Truth Does Not Fall from the Sky

In February 1959, ten talks were held in New Delhi. K spent the whole year in India, falling ill with a kidney infection in August. He was given antibiotics that paralysed his legs. He had to spend seven weeks in bed.

In December 1959, K returned to the podium in Madras. The following month, he gave eight talks in Benares, immediately followed by eight more in Bombay.

In his first talk, K stressed that the change must be in the way we think, rather than in the content of our thoughts. The mind must be in a state of being where words have no meaning.

To understand the workings of one's own mind, it is crucial to be prepared to work hard, but very few are willing to put in the effort. Truth does not fall from the sky; to face it, one must recognise one's own attachments.

You can see an example of this in Russia. Hardly anyone there would agree with you because they have been influenced by different beliefs. Similarly, our own attachments shape our own view of the world.

In our interactions with others, our own conditioning is either revealed – or it is not. Every thought shapes our minds, so our mind is not free. It is shaped by what we eat, what we look at, the people we know and encounter, and our beliefs and knowledge.

We are so caught up in our own thoughts that we are oblivious to the beauty around us. In the hustle and bustle of everyday life, we may occasionally notice a bird singing, feel the evening breeze or touch the morning dew on the grass. We have lost our sensitivity, and sought substitutes in temples, material possessions and amusement parks.

This is a tragedy. Only a mind that recognises beauty can touch and embody the truth.