一起读克｜冥想只能在不经意时发生

“真理是无路之国 。”——克里希那穆提 

The other day on the banks of a river—how lovely are rivers; there isn’t only one sacred river, all rivers throughout the world have their own divinity—the other day a man was sitting on the banks of a river wrapt in a fawn coloured cloth. His hands were hidden, his eyes were shut and his body was very still. He had beads in his hands and he was repeating some words and the hands were moving from bead to bead. He had done this for many years and he never missed a bead. And the river rolled along beside him. Its current was deep. It began among the great mountains, snow-clad and distant; it began as a small stream, and as it moved south it gathered all the small streams and rivers and became a great river. In that part of the world they worshipped it.

有一天，在一条河的岸边——河流是那么美丽，不是只有一条圣河，全世界所有的河流都有自己的神圣之处——那天一个人坐在一条河的岸边，身上裹着一块黄褐色的布。他双手握起，双眼紧闭，身体一动不动。他的手中有串念珠，嘴里念念有词，手指一个接一个地捻着珠子。他这么做了很多年，从来没有错过一粒念珠。而大河就在他身边汹涌而过。水流很深。它发源于积雪覆盖的遥远的崇山峻岭之中，一开始只是一条小溪，在它流向南方的过程中，汇聚了所有的小溪、小河，然后变成了一条大河。在世界的这片地方，人们对它顶礼膜拜。 

One does not know for how many years this man had been repeating his mantra and rolling the beads. He was meditating—at least people thought he was meditating and probably he did too. So all the passers-by looked at him, became silent and then went on with their laughter and chatter. That almost motionless figure—one could see through the cloth only a slight action of the fingers—had sat there for a very long time, completely absorbed, for he heard no other sound than the sound of his own words and the rhythm of it, the music of it. And he would say that he was meditating. There are a thousand others like him, all over the world, in quiet deep monasteries among the hills and towns and beside the rivers. 

你不知道这个人有多少年来一直在诵念咒语、转动念珠。他在冥想——至少人们以为他在冥想，或许他自己也这么以为。所以所有的路人经过的时候都要看看他，安静一会儿，然后又继续谈笑风生地向前走去。这个几乎一动不动的人——透过那块布，你可以看到只有手指有轻微的动作——他在那里坐了很久，完全沉浸在自己的世界中，因为除了他自己嘟哝的声音、节奏和韵律之外，他什么都听不到。而他会说他在冥想。全世界还有千千万万人像他一样，隐身于群山中、市镇中以及河岸边那些安静幽深的修道院之中。

Meditation is not words, a mantram, or self-hypnosis, the drug of illusions. It must happen without your volition. It must take place in the quiet stillness of the night, when you are suddenly awake and see that the brain is quiet and there is a peculiar quality of meditation going on. It must take place as silently as a snake among the tall grass, green in the fresh morning light. It must take place in the deep recesses of the brain. Meditation is not an achievement. There is no method, system or practice. Meditation begins with the ending of comparison, the ending of the becoming or not becoming. As the bee whispers among the leaves so the whispering of meditation is action. 

冥想并非词句、咒语或者自我催眠，这些虚幻的麻醉剂。它只能在你不经意的时候发生。它必须发生在夜晚的安宁静谧之中，当你忽然醒来，发现头脑很安静，此时就有一种特别的冥想在进行。它的发生必须像穿过草丛的蛇一样静悄悄——高高的草丛在清新的晨曦中青翠欲滴。它必须发生在大脑的最深处。冥想不是一项成就，它没有方法、体系，也无法练习。冥想始于比较的终结、想成为或不成为什么的终结。就像蜜蜂在树叶间嗡鸣，冥想的低语即是行动。

Krishnamurti to Himself, Friday, April 22, 1983

《最后的日记》，1983年4月22日，星期五