International Self-preparation Group

Message from Krishnaji II

You remember that, in the first Message, we were talking of the reality of the Masters; how the Masters exist as a part of Nature; and how in all beauty, whether it be the beauty of a fisherman throwing his net or the spiritual loveliness of the perfectly evolved soul, there is the same quality, the same tone; so that we should break down, as far as possible, the artificial barrier that our mentality creates between the Master and ourselves, and cease to think of the Master as an anomaly, or as something far away from us, and we should realise that He is everywhere, in all moving and non-moving things. That was our general idea.
In the present Message I want to place before you another idea, which is as old as the hills and has been written about very often: namely, that the Master is not perfect if He has not a pupil, and the pupil is not perfect if there is not a Master; so that it is natural that the Master should exist, and it is equally natural that there should be a pupil. There is a beautiful saying in Sanskrit: "Because of the lotus the water is made more beautiful; because of the water, the lotus is made more beautiful. Because of the water and the lotus the lake looks more beautiful." Exactly in the same way, you cannot separate the Master from the pupil. They are one; they must be one, in order to create the beauty. Without the natural environment of life the beauty of the Master is not revealed; it is concealed. So is it also with the pupil. Until he has learned what the world has to teach him, he cannot reveal his own beauty and approach the Master.
We must have it absolutely clear in our minds that the Master is the outcome, the apotheosis, of all creative action. We must realise that it is all natural, just as it is natural for the tree to come to its full growth, even though, while it is still young, it may need artificial support in order to keep it straight. So, too, for us who are trying to become the tree which shall provide shelter, which shall have scented flowers, which shall give shade, and which shall bear fruit, there must be, at first, the artificial props of initiation, acceptance, and so on; but we must always remember that, in themselves, they are not the vital thing. They are, as it were, the mere scaffolding of growth. But if you can complete your growth, unconscious of the scaffolding, so much the better.
Intellectually, too, the idea that the Master exists is quite natural, quite reasonable. What is the good of life if, at the end of it, we do not become perfect, something noble, wonderful, glorious? The idea of Re-incarnation, too - is it not perfectly natural, even though it may sometimes seem a little depressing? For, there are times when the idea that we have to carry on this unfortunate game all through a whole succession of lives, until we have conquered and attained, is rather depressing. Yet, the idea in itself is perfectly natural; it is logical, and it is not something that has been invented by Theosophists and Hindus to satisfy our mental cravings. To me it is as natural as the sunrise and the sunset. I feel the same about Karma. The thing must be true, and it must be true in a sense which fits in naturally with life as we know it.
If we do not make these truths part of ourselves by interpreting them in a simple and natural manner, they become outside things and cease to fit easily and helpfully into our lives. In the same way the idea of perfectibility along all lines, of the possibility of a development of all good qualities to the point which is represented by the Master, appeals to our imagination tremendously; and that is why we have to cultivate our imagination, so that mentally, emotionally and physically, the idea of the culmination of perfection, the glory of the man as he evolves, becomes quite natural, and quite comprehensible; above all, a thing of plain common sense.
If we have this idea of the Master as a Being, human like ourselves, then He is simply a person, an individual, who has become perfect. I often think that the Master, is Krishnamurti made perfect, or somebody else made perfect; in that way He becomes part of me, part of my very understanding, of my very breath, to whom I can go with anything, my sorrow, my depression, my jealousies, or my happiness, my adoration, my glorification. He is in fact father, mother, son, daughter, wife - everything. And we have to impress this idea upon our minds, because, as I said yesterday, the mentality always wants something outside to cling to, something against which it can lean. The Master is not a person against whom we can lean. How can one lean against Him when He is a part of us, when He is ourselves, when He is the very air that we breathe? So you lose that sense of depression, loneliness and other trivial things. How can a leaf feel lonely? It is part of the tree. You will see sometimes the wind shaking a particular leaf and the whole tree is perfectly still. That leaf may seem somewhat separate, somewhat proud of being shaken by the wind, when the other leaves are not shaken. It is the same with each one of us. We feel that we are separate, but in reality we are a part of the whole of humanity. We are both the lowest and the highest, the stone and the God, not separate individuals cut off from all the others. Of course we are different in many ways, but that does not mean that we are separate. We have our own temperaments, our own desires. We have to follow our own special paths, but they all lead to the same summit. It becomes much more interesting, much finer, to look at the whole of life in that way.
The Master becomes more beautiful, more glorious, more divine, more comprehensible if each one of us feels that we have to make ourselves pupils, in order to make Him more wonderful. The moon by itself cannot be beautiful; it is the darkness that makes the beauty of the moonlight. It is exactly the same with the Master and the pupil. They are one; they are complementary. They become more beautiful when they are together and no longer separate. They become more divine, more understandable, more human, when they are together and can understand each other.
Anybody in the world - it does not matter whether he has the special label of probationer, or accepted pupil, or initiate - anybody who has these feelings becomes a pupil; anybody who desires intensely, who longs intensely, becomes a pupil; and the feeling that you are a pupil, while somebody else is not, becomes puerile, childish; and you naturally squash that kind of idea at once. Many who are in the Theosophical Society and in our Order only begin to take notice of people when they hear that they bear certain labels. I have noticed this during the recent Convention. The moment we know certain people are on probation we greet them very deferentially; when we find out that they have become accepted pupils, the hands go higher still; and when we hear that they are Initiates, well, you know the rest!
You see how artificial we have made it all, how ridiculous, how ugly! What does it matter whether you are known as a probationary pupil or not, if you have the right feeling, the right desire? This is far more interesting, far more beautiful, than the mere labels to which we attach so much importance. I do not say these do not help, I do not say that labels have not a certain value. They may help to bring you to your destination, like a luggage label; they may prevent you from going wrong because then you know you have certain responsibilities. But do not worship the label.
When I see a fisherman, or a blade of grass that has been broken on the road, to me they are as worthy as those who are labelled. The blade of grass has been broken and the grass has suffered. Some unfortunate person has trodden on it, and it must have suffered. Suffering and love and happiness are common to all things; these are far more valuable, far more interesting, far more dignified than the mere worship of labels and the contentment it brings. I cannot put it more strongly than I have done; but I will say this also; - if we do not guard ourselves against all this narrowingdown of life, we shall not approach the Master even though a thousand persons say that we are approaching Him; we shall not realise the Master even though we may worship in front of Him; we shall not truly see His face even though we may be able to describe the colour of His eyes and of His hair.
So long as we can realise that a broken blade of grass, or an animal which is hurt, or a man who has suffered, are all the same, are all parts of us, we can approach the Master. Sometimes I feel wounded when I see a flower on the road or an ant that somebody has trodden upon and killed. You cannot help those things; they happen; but I feel as though somebody had hurt me. And if you have that sense, that tremendous feeling, that depth of understanding of the oneness of all, then the beauty of the Master comes nearer; and every tree, every flower, every drop of water, every cloud, every storm has a different meaning. Then every day becomes a wonder; every hour becomes more glorious; then you want to be happy, then you want to be enlightened, because that is the only natural thing to be. You know we all of us feel sometimes, - certainly I have very often felt, - the glory of the Master, the simplicity of it all, the perfection in that simplicity. But instead of making us simple - so that we become perfect in our emotions, in our minds, in our bodies, - all that we do tends to make us complicated.
We do not understand that the Master is the embodiment of simplicity. I am sure the Master is never angry; and yet one can imagine He can be annoyed, simply because it is a natural thing to be. Even though now He may be above it, even though He may have conquered it, yet He must have gone through what we ourselves are going through. He must once have had all the feelings that we have, but now He has arrived at the mountain-top. He is as white as the snow and as cold as the snow. Do not misunderstand me. I do not mean that He has not affections. I know that I shall have letters afterwards asking me why I say that the Master is cold. Surely He is full of affection. But one can see how the Master can look at things with the tremendous dignity which comes from absolute detachment, and yet have, within, the bubbling spring of love. Both can exist, even as snow and living springs exist in nature. The Masters are as natural and as ordinary as the sunrise and the sunset. Who cares nowadays for the sunrise except the few? Who cares to study quietly at sunset? It is the man who has trained himself to look at the sunset, who has learnt to still his body and his mind and his emotions at the sunset hour, who can sit down quietly and worship it. If you want to become like the Master you must have all these things, all these qualities, all these movements of the mind under perfect control, so that they may become part of your very nature and not something for which you are still struggling.

J. Krishnamurti

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