Awareness is the silent and choiceless

observation of what is
Problems will always exist where the activities of the self are dominant. To be aware which are
and which are not the activities of the self needs constant vigilance. This vigilance is not
disciplined attention, but an extensive awareness which is choiceless. Disciplined attention gives
strength to the self; it becomes a substitute and a dependence. Awareness, on the other hand, is
not self-induced, nor is it the outcome of practice; it is understanding the whole content of the
problem, the hidden as well as the superficial. The surface must be understood for the hidden to
show itself; the hidden cannot be exposed if the surface mind is not quiet. This whole process is
not verbal, nor is it a matter of mere experience. Verbalization indicates dullness of mind; and
experience, being cumulative, makes for repetitiousness. Awareness is not a matter of
determination, for purposive direction is resistance, which tends towards exclusiveness.
Awareness is the silent and choiceless observation of what is; in this awareness the problem
unrolls itself, and thus it is fully and completely understood. A problem is never solved on its
own level; being complex, it must be understood in its total process. To try to solve a problem on
only one level, physical or psychological, leads to further conflict and confusion. For the
resolution of a problem, there must be this awareness, this passive alertness which reveals its
total process.

Questioner: I should like to know what you mean by awareness because you have often said that
awareness is really what your teaching is about. I've tried to understand it by listening to your
talks and reading your books, but I don't seem to get very far. I know it is not a practice, and I
understand why you so emphatically repudiate any kind of practice, drill, system, discipline or
routine. I see the importance of that, for otherwise it becomes mechanical, and at the end of it the
mind has become dull and stupid. I should like, if I may, to explore with you to the very end this
question of what it means to be aware. You seem to give some extra, deeper meaning to this
word, and yet it seems to me that we are aware of what's going on all the time. When I'm angry I
know it, when I'm sad I know it and when I'm happy I know it.

Krishnamurti: I wonder if we really are aware of anger, sadness, happiness? Or are we aware of
these things only when they are all over? Let us begin as though we know nothing about it at all
and start from scratch. Let us not make any assertions, dogmatic or subtle, but let us explore this
question which, if one really went into it very deeply, would reveal an extraordinary state that the
mind had probably never touched, a dimension not touched by superficial awareness. Let us start
from the superficial and work through.

We see with our eyes, we perceive with our senses the things about us - the colour of the flower,
the humming bird over the flower the light of this Californian sun, the thousand sounds of
different qualities and subtleties, the depth and the height, the shadow of the tree and the tree
itself. We feel in the same way our own bodies, which are the instruments of these different kinds
of superficial, sensory perceptions. If these perceptions remained at the superficial level there
would be no confusion at all. That flower, that pansy, that rose, are there, and that's all there is to
it. There is no preference, no comparison, no like and dislike, only the thing before us without
any psychological involvement. Is all this superficial sensory perception or awareness quite
clear? It can be expanded to the stars, to the depth of the seas, and to the ultimate frontiers of
scientific observation, using all the instruments of modern technology.

Questioner: Yes, I think I understand that.

Krishnamurti: So you see that the rose and all the universe and the people in it, your own wife if
you have one, the stars, the seas, the mountains, the microbes, the atoms, the neutrons, this room,
the door, really are there. Now, the next step; what you think about these things, or what you feel
about them, is your psychological response to them. And this we call thought or emotion. So the
superficial awareness is a very simple matter: the door is there. But the description of the door is
not the door, and when you get emotionally involved in the description you don't see the door.
This description might be a word or a scientific treatise or a strong emotional response; none of
these is the door itself. This is very important to understand right from the beginning. If we don't
understand this we shall get more and more confused. The description is never the described.
Though we are describing something even now, and we have to, the thing we are describing is
not our description of it, so please bear this in mind right through our talk. Never confuse the
word with the thing it describes. The word is never the real, and we are easily carried away when
we come to the next stage of awareness where it becomes personal and we get emotional through
the word.

So there is the superficial awareness of the tree, the bird, the door, and there is the response to
that, which is thought, feeling, emotion. Now when we become aware of this response, we might
call it a second depth of awareness. There is the awareness of the rose, and the awareness of the
response to the rose. Often we are unaware of this response to the rose. In reality it is the same
awareness which sees the rose and which sees the response. It is one movement and it is wrong
to speak of the outer and inner awareness. When there is a visual awareness of the tree without
any psychological involvement there is no division in relationship. But when there is a
psychological response to the tree, the response is a conditioned response, it is the response of
past memory, past experiences, and the response is a division in relationship. This response is the
birth of what we shall call the 'me' in relationship and the 'non-me'. This is how you place
yourself in relationship to the world. This is how you create the individual and the community.
The world is seen not as it is, but in its various relationships to the 'me' of memory. This division
is the life and the flourishing of everything we call our psychological being, and from this arises
all contradiction and division. Are you very clear that you perceive this? When there is the
awareness of the tree there is no evaluation. But when there is a response to the tree, when the
tree is judged with like and dislike, then a division takes place in this awareness as the 'me' and
the 'non-me', the 'me' who is different from the thing observed. This 'me' is the response, in
relationship, of past memory, past experiences. Now can there be an awareness, an observation
of the tree, without any judgement, and can there be an observation of the response, the
reactions, without any judgement? In this way we eradicate the principle of division, the
principle of 'me' and 'non-me', both in looking at the tree and in looking at ourselves.

Questioner: I'm trying to follow you. Let's see if I have got it right. There is an awareness of the
tree, that I understand. There is a psychological response to the tree, that I understand also. The
psychological response is made up of past memories and past experiences, it is like and dislike, it
is the division into the tree and the 'me'. Yes, I think I understand all that.

Krishnamurti: Is this as clear as the tree itself, or is it simply the clarity of description?
Remember, as we have already said, the described is not the description. What have you got, the
thing or its description?

Questioner: I think it is the thing.

Krishnamurti: Therefore there is no 'me' who is the description in the seeing of this fact. In the
seeing of any fact there is no 'me'. There is either the 'me' or the seeing, there can't be both. 'Me'
is non-seeing. The 'me' cannot see, cannot be aware.

To be aware without condemnation

Do not think about doing it, but actually do it now. That is, be aware of the trees, the palm tree,
the sky; hear the crows cawing; see the light on the leaf, the colour of the sari, the face; then
move inwardly. You can observe, you can be aware choicelessly of outward things. It is very
easy. But to move inwardly and to be aware without condemnation, without justification, without
comparison is more difficult. Just be aware of what is taking place inside youyour beliefs, your
fears, your dogmas, your hopes, your frustrations, your ambitions, and all the rest of the things.
Then the unfolding of the conscious and the unconscious begins. You have not to do a thing.

The man who wants to improve himself can never be aware, because improvement
implies condemnation and the achievement of a result; whereas in awareness there
is observation without condemnation, without denial or acceptance. That awareness
begins with outward things, being aware, being in contact with objects, with nature.
First, there is awareness of things about one, being sensitive to objects, to nature,
then to people, which means relationship; then there is awareness of ideas. This
awareness - being sensitive to things, to nature, to people, to ideas- is not made up
of separate processes, but is one unitary process.
It is a constant observation of everything, of every thought and feeling and action
as they arise within oneself. As awareness is not condemnatory, there is no
accumulation. You condemn only when you have a standard, which means there is
accumulation and therefore improvement of the self. Awareness is to understand
the activities of the self, the 'I', in its relationship with people, with ideas, and with
things.

That awareness is from moment to moment, and therefore it cannot be practiced.

When you practice a thing, it becomes a habit, and awareness is not habit. A mind
that is habitual is insensitive, a mind that is functioning within the groove of a
particular action is dull, unpliable; whereas awareness demands constant pliability,
alertness.

This is not difficult. It is what you actually do when you are interested in something,
when you are interested in watching your child, your wife, your plants, the trees, the
birds. You observe without condemnation, without identification; therefore in that
observation there is complete communion: the observer and the observed are
completely in communion. This actually takes place when you are deeply,
profoundly interested in something.

I wonder if you know what it means to be aware of something? Most of us are not
aware because we have become so accustomed to condemning, judging,
evaluating, identifying, choosing. Choice obviously prevents awareness because
choice is always made as a result of conflict. To be aware ... just to see it, to be
aware of it all without any sense of judgment.

Just be aware, that is all what you have to do, without condemning, without forcing,
without trying to change what you are aware of. If you are aware choicelessly, the
whole field of consciousness begins to unfold. So you begin with the outer and move
inwardly. Then you will find, when you move inwardly that the inward and the
outward are not two different things, that the outward awareness is not different
from the inward awareness, and that they are both the same.
Everything about us, within as well as without -- our relationships, our thoughts, our
feelings -- is impermanent, in a constant state of flux. But is there anything which is
permanent? Is there? Our constant desire is to make sensation permanent, is it not?
Sensation can be found again and again, for it is ever being lost. Being bored with a
particular sensation, I seek new sensation. Every sensation comes to an end, and so
we proceed from one sensation to another and every sensation strengthens the
habit of seeking further sensation. My mind is always experiencing in terms of
sensation. There is perception, contact, sensation and desire and the mind becomes
the mechanical instrument of all this process. With the arising of sensation comes
the urge to possess; and so begins the turmoil of desire. And the habit of seeking
further sensation.

And is there an end to sorrow? Is it possible to live a daily life with death, which is
the ending of the self? There is only one fact -- impermanence: every sensation
comes to an end. Can the mind, the brain remain absolutely with that feeling of
suffering and nothing else? There is no movement away from that moment, that
thing called suffering. Is there an action in which there is no motive; no cause -- the
self does not enter into it at all? Thought identifies itself with that sensation and
through identification the 'I' is built up. Identification with sensation makes the self.
If there is no identification; is there a self?

So is it possible not to identify with sensation? So we are asking, is there a holistic

awareness of all the senses? Just be aware ... effortless observation ... choiceless
observation ... and to learn, to find out whether it is possible to allow sensation to
flower and not let thought interfere with it -- to keep them apart. Will you do it?
Jiddu Krishnamurti : The examination of oneself in order to modify or change is generally
called introspection. To look within with an intention to change the responses of the self is what
most people indulge in. In this process, there is always the observer and the observed, the
observer having an end in view. In this process is involved not the understanding of what is, but
only the transformation of what is. When that end, that transformation is not achieved, there is
depression, there is frustration, that peculiar moodiness that goes with introspection. In this there
is always the accumulating process of the me, the dualistic conflict from which there is no
release. In this introspective action, there is a battle of the opposites in which there is always
choice and the endless strife that it breeds.

Awareness is entirely different. Awareness is observation without choice, condemnation, or

justification. Awareness is silent observation from which there arises understanding without the
experiencer and the experienced. In this awareness, which is passive, the problem or the cause is
given an opportunity to unfold itself and so give its full significance. In awareness there is no end
in view to be gained, and there is no becoming, the me and the mine not being given the
continuity.

In introspection there is self-improvement which causes self-centeredness. In the process of

awareness there is no self-improvement; on the contrary, it is the ending of the self, the me and
the mine with its idiosyncrasies, memories, demands, and pursuits. Self-introspection implies
identification and condemnation, choice and justification. In awareness there are none of these
things. Awareness is direct relationship without the intermediary of persuasion, like, or dislike.
Awareness is being sensitive to nature, to things, to relationship of people and of ideas. It is an
observation of every feeling, thought, and action as they arise from moment to moment.
Awareness is not condemnatory; there is no accumulation of memory as the me. Awareness is
the understanding of the actions of the self, that of the me and the mine in its relationship to
things, people, and ideas. This awareness is from moment to moment and so it cannot be
practiced; so awareness is not the cultivation of habit. A mind that is caught in the net of habits is
insensitive. A mind that is functioning within a pattern of action is not pliable. Awareness
demands constant alertness and pliability.

Introspection leads to frustration, to conflict, and misery. Awareness is a process of release from
the activities of the self. To be aware of your daily actions, your movements of thought and
feeling, to be aware of another, there must be that sensitive pliability which can only come with
inquiry and interest. To know oneself fully not just one or two layers of oneself there must be
that alert, expansive awareness and freedom so that the hidden intentions and pursuits are
revealed.

Who is aware in awareness? In the state of experiencing, there is neither the experiencer nor the
experience. It is only when the state of experiencing has gone, there emerges the experiencer and
the experience, which is the division in memory itself. Since most of us live in memory with its
responses, we invariably ask who is the observer and who is it that is aware. Surely, this is a
wrong question, is it not? At the moment of experiencing, there is neither the me which is
aware nor the object of which he is aware. Most of us find it extremely difficult to live in a state
of experiencing as it demands easy pliability, swift movement of thought and feeling, a high
degree of sensitivity. All this is denied when we are pursuing a result, when achievement
becomes far more important than understanding. Only a man who is not seeking an end, who is
free from that bargaining spirit, who is not becoming such a man is in a state of constant
experiencing. You can experiment with this yourself and observe that, in experiencing, the
experiencer and the experience do not exist.

The improvement of the self-expansion process can never bring truth. This self-expansion is ever
self-enclosing. Awareness is the understanding of what is the what is of your daily existence. It
is only when you understand the truth of your daily existence that you can go far. But to go far,
you must begin near. Without understanding the near, we look to the dim, distant future, which
only brings confusion and misery.