And walking on that road, there was complete emptiness of the brain, and the mind was free of all experience, the knowing of yesterday, though a thousand yesterdays have been. Time, the thing of thought, had stopped; literally there was no movement before and after; there was no going or arriving or standing still. Space as distance was not; there were the hills and bushes but not as high and low. There was no relationship with anything but there was an awareness of the bridge and the passer-by. The totality of the mind, in which is the brain with its thoughts and feelings, was empty; and because it was empty, there was energy, a deepening and widening energy without measure. All comparison, measurement belong to thought and so to time. The otherness was the mind without time; it was the breath of innocence and immensity. Words are not reality; they are only means of communication but they are not the innocence and the immeasurable. The emptiness was alone.
Krishnamurti’s Notebook | 20th October to 20th November 1961
While out on a walk among the hills, with someone who was telling of his troubles, his difficulties in meditation, there was a state of complete “openness”. It was as though nothing existed, including the body, the earth and the moon but an all pervading light. That night when awakened by some noise, there was again an extraordinary intensity of this “openness” and its steadiness.
Extracts from J.Krishnamurti’s diary, 1945-46. Probing the Mystery by R.E. Mark Lee, page 108.
Again it has happened several times during meditation, the whole hour passed, in what appeared to be a few seconds. During this timeless state there was nothing else but complete being. On the fringe of the being, there was activity, movement, but in the being itself there was intensity. In the heart of the flame there is only intensity without any contrast; so in this intensity there was only being. Nothing from the “outside” seemed to touch it for there was no outside or inside to it. It was the whole, the complete, it has no attribute but all creation itself, the very creation itself. It is not a thing to be described or talked about.
Extracts from J.Krishnamurti’s diary, 1945-46. Probing the Mystery by R.E. Mark Lee, page 106.