“Ojai”… I see an ad from the Krishnamurti Center on the U.S. West Coast. I have probably mentioned that my two foremost sources of inspiration — not only for what they actually said and have written, but as individuals, almost as “archetypes” for two different kinds of spiritualities — have been the Danish mystic Martinus Thomsen and the Theosophical apostate Jiddu Krishnamurti.
And I’ve had the universe on my side, it seems 🙂
The first time I was going to visit the Martinus Center in Zealand, Denmark, early summer -84, I started hitchhiking in Stockholm in the morning. And got to that center far out in the countryside the very same night. A combination of strange circumstances, it was like a wave of helpfulness.
In the spring of ’90, I was sitting on a Greyhound bus along the coast of California, glanzing through the window. Suddenly saw a sign for an exit road that had such a familiar name: “Ojai.” I knew Krishnamurti had lived in a place called that. I thought it was in India? I guess I catched a bus back just to check. And so I ended up at that center, too.
In both cases, however, I came three or four years too late to meet the founders themselves.
It’s as if every type of spirituality has its possible despecies. Esotericism, like Martinus, then one tend to become far too fond of the answers, “the thought system”. Such systems which there are several similar ones of. But that you has been able to find that one that is superior to the others, etc. And that other kind of spirituality, of which Krishnamurti is a representative? My impression is that the approach can get too aggressive and cross-confident, in its own way. Adherents of Krishnamurti can sometimes behave as spirituality’s equivalent of those organisation fighting against pseudoscience and alternative medicine, etc. (“Vetenskap och Folkbildning” and “Humanisterna”, in Sweden.)
I don’t know how to get their respective teachings together, Martinus and Krishnamurti? Or, in a broader sense: Western Esotericism and Non-duality. When I was more active, I fantasized about how the two might be seen as a kind of “epoxy” solution. Like a two-component glue. They each had an angle. It could not be expressed through the same person. Together, though they were a guarantor that one would not become too cocky, one-sided, fundamentalistic.
Am I a supporter of any of these men today? I guess that’s a matter of definition. Krishnamurti, for example? If someone were to scan my brain – if possible – and see which individuals had made a big impression, whose words and quotes had kind of built up my inner world, then it would say “Jiddu Krishnamurti” on a lot. (Others may in a similar fashion have been nourished by other philosophers, then one would find their names, of course.)
So, I would like to honor him by calling me a supporter. (I’ve barely read a line of him since I was twenty-five, though, but it matters less.) Credit where credit is due.
Then I don’t know if maybe Krishnamurti towards the end got a little too grumpy, like some of his contemporary adepts, too? A long life and having to answer a lot of questions that didn’t reflect what really interested him, along with age, maybe made him tired… He went a little on a routine.
But still, his story about the devil and a friend of his who were out walking, which he included in the speech 1929 when he dissolved the Star of the East, is a really bright light. Like a psychospiritual equation, a magical spell:
“You may remember the story of how the devil and a friend of his were walking down the street, when they saw ahead of them a man stoop down and pick up something from the ground, look at it, and put it away in his pocket. The friend said to the devil, “What did that man pick up?” “He picked up a piece of truth,” said the devil. “That’s a very bad business for you, then,” said his friend. “Oh, not at all,” the devil replied, “I’m going to let him organize it.”