imperishable, unnameable, the unknowing

words from my treasured teacher 4

 

J Krishnamurti

 

On July 20, 1961, Krishnamurti wrote an extraordinary account in his journal of the ineffable and unknowable as It was experienced through his body-mind. He struggles to find the appropriate words … the outpouring is, to my mind, pure poetry:

The room became full with that benediction. Now what followed is almost impossible to put down into words; words are such dead things, with definite set meaning and what took place was beyond all words and description. It was the centre of all creation; it was a purifying seriousness that cleansed the brain of every thought and feeling; its seriousness was as lightning which destroys and burns up; the profundity of it was not measurable, it was there immovable, impenetrable, a solidity that was light as the heavens. It was in the eyes, in the breath. It was in the eyes and the eyes could see. The eyes that saw, that looked were wholly different from the eyes of the organ and yet they were the same eyes. There was only seeing, the eyes that saw beyond time-space. There was impenetrable dignity and a peace that was the essence of all movement, action. No virtue touched it for it was beyond all virtue and the sanctions of man. There was love that was utterly perishable and so it had the delicacy of all new things, vulnerable, destructible and yet it was beyond all this. It was there imperishable, unnameable, the unknowing. No thought could ever penetrate it; no action could touch it. It was “pure”, untouched and so ever dyingly beautiful.

All this seemed to affect the brain; it was not as it was before. (Thought is such a trivial thing, necessary but trivial.) Because of it, relationship seems to have changed. As a terrific storm, a destructive earthquake gives a new course to the rivers, changes the landscape, digs deep into the earth, so it has levelled the contours of thought, changed the shape of the heart.

– J Krishnamurti,  Krishnamurti’s Notebook

It was coming upon such clearly authentic writings about the inescapable presence of the Unknowable that led me to Brockwood Park, the school Krishnamurti founded in Hampshire, England. I was a teacher and I found my perfect niche in this unbelievably rich and stimulating environment, where students are guided towards both academic excellence in their studies and deep inquiry into the workings of their thinking.

I revisit these words decades later with delight, and with inexpressible gratitude I can say, “Yes. It is exactly so: the shape of the heart is changed. And there is no way back.”


Other posts featuring Krishnamurti’s writing:

try it, do it

keep far away

words from my treasured teacher 1


Find a comprehensive selection of Krishnamurti’s books at the Krishnamurti Foundation Trust website.


 

beloved Beloved

beloved Beloved

.

How can You be so evident
and yet
completely missed
as we search for You
insatiably?

.

How can You be so simple
and at the same time
so subtle
that overlooking You
takes priority?

.

How can You be so clear
and nakedly
present
yet only be referred to
in riddles?

.

How can You be so Total
so inescapably
everything
and yet
be nothing knowable
or nameable?

~ ml

.

God is the ultimate sticky-beak

This Unlit Light - Cosmic Question Mark

 

If I was going to symbolize the God-idea (why not – isn’t that thought’s job?) it would be as a question mark.

I don’t mean a ? as in mystery – although that fits too – I mean as a dynamic.

It seems to me that the unknowable unspeakable whatever-it-is that lives this lifestream moves on the well-oiled wheels of curiosity. It’s the ultimate sticky-beak and nosey-parker, insatiably wondering about … everything that can be experienced and known in the infinite arena of existence. Ceaselessly wondering, but never, ever, reaching a conclusion.

Questions fuel my life and determine the choices ‘I’ make, the paths ‘I’ tread. One of the lovely things about senior-hood is that you can look back over a life and catch those questions. I marvel at that, and at the questions that laid out my lifepath.

In a back-to-front way it’s like you’re standing at the stern of a boat, watching the wake and suddenly seeing it as an arrow, an arrow frothing and surging with shoals of questions… an arrow propelling the lifeboat with your name on the prow towards an eternal horizon of possibilities.

 


Image source: National Geographic