Letter 1

From the book "Letters to a young friend"

NOTE: Between 1948 and the early 1960s, Krishnaji was easily accessible and many people came to him. On walks, in personal meetings, through letters, the relationships blossomed. He wrote the following letters1 to a young friend who came to him wounded in body and mind. The letters, written between June 1948 and March 1960, reveal a rare compassion and clarity: the teaching and healing unfold; separation and distance disappear; the words flow; not a word is superfluous; the healing and the teaching are simultaneous.

"Letter 1" 

Be supple mentally. Strength does not lie in being firm and strong but in being pliable. The pliable tree stands in a gale. Gather the strength of a swift mind.

Life is strange, so many things happen unexpectedly, mere resistance will not solve any problem. One needs infinite pliability and a single heart.

Life is a razor’s edge and one has to walk on that path with exquisite care and with pliable wisdom.

Life is so rich, has so many treasures, we go it with empty hearts; we do not know how to feel our hearts with the abundance of life. We are poor inwardly and when the riches are offered to us, we refuse. Love is a dangerous thing, it brings the only revolution that gives complete happiness. So few of us are capable of love, so few want love. We love on our terms, making of love a marketable thing. We have the market mentality and love is not marketable, a give-and-take affair. It is a state of being in which all man’s problems are resolved. We go to the well with a thimble and so life becomes a tawdry affair, puny and small.

What a lovely place the earth could be, for there is so much beauty, so much glory, such imperishable loveliness. We are caught in pain and don’t care to get out of it, even when someone points a way out.

I don’t know, but one’s aflame with love. There is an unquenchable flame. One has so much of it that one wants to give it to everyone and one does. It is like a strong flowing river, it nourishes and waters every town and village; it is polluted, the fifth of man goes into it but the water soon purify themselves and swiftly move on. Nothing can spoil love, for all things are dissolved in it – the good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful. It is the only thing that is its own eternity.

“ Without freedom from the past, there is no freedom at all, because the mind is never new, fresh, innocent. „
© 2013 Krishnamurti Library of Athens, all rights reserved.