Krishnamurti and the Bee Sting of Satori

Krishnamurti
and the Bee Sting of Satori

 
By Scott Shaw

During the later stages of his life, the great sage, J. Krishnamurti would periodically give informal lectures at his center in Ojai, California. In the late 1970’s, though I was a university student, I was much more focused upon the spiritual life than my studies. So, whenever one of these lectures would take place, I would forgo my classes and travel to Ojai.

It was a truly spiritual process for me. I would rise early, consciously bathe—washing away Karmic blemishes and the physical constraints of this material existence. Then, I would get dressed, meditate, and finally, climb onto my motorcycle and, with the wind blowing through my hair, make the hundred-mile journey Northward.

The talks were given in a tree-covered field at the Krishnamurti Foundation. Usually about twenty to thirty people would attend. So, it was very intimate.

Each morning, as the people would slowly begin to congregate, we would sit on the grass awaiting his arrival. Most of the attending were his direct devotees—though he never liked that delineation. Me, I was a Dharma Bum, on the path of spiritual awakening.

In the waiting, some people conversed, while others would cross their legs, close their eyes, and meditate. Myself, long believing that one of the most integral elements of meditation could only be accomplished with your eyes open, would sit by myself and experience all of the visual stimuli which could be taken in at this site Krishnamurti had called one of his homes for decades.

Then, he would appear—this aging Indian born sage. Who, like the Buddha, had renounced divinity—stating that no religion and no individual could bring you the truth. It could only be found within.
 
Order of the Star
Decades before, he had disbanded the Order of the Star. This organization had been created by Annie Besant and Charles Webster Leadbeater. These two individuals were leading members of Madam Blavatsky’s Theosophical Society who had created the Order of the Star in order to propagate that Krishnamurti was Lord Maitreya—the World Teacher who had been predicted in the Pali Canon. They taught that Krishnamurti would lead the world onto a new level of spirituality.

In actuality, this is what he did. He left all of the nonsense of holiness behind.

With this selfless action of renunciation, he illustrated that he truly was an enlightened being of the highest caliber—teaching for no reason other than that of the spiritual realization of humanity.

Unassuming, Krishnamurti would wear slacks, a plain button up shirt, and usually a sweater. His silver hair was combed over to cover his baldness. It glistened in the sun. His divine presence was indisputable.
 
Journey to Ojai
One morning, as I was preparing to make the journey to Ojai, a friend of mine from College showed up at my door. Not to be unkind, but he was a rather curious fellow. One of those people that when you would say something to him, perhaps five minutes later it would sink in and then they would answer.

He was a rock drummer, in love with the music of The Grateful Dead, and the drug orientated byproducts of that obsession. As to whether or not his mind had always been lost to the realms of distance, I do not know. But, for the period of time I knew him, he was, Spaced-Out.

As he was one of those people who would come over and sit for hour after hour, never leaving until he was directly guided out the door, he was, obviously, quite interested in what I was doing and where I was going. I told him, and his mind was made up, he was going to come along.

Normally, I would have heartily invited anyone who possessed even the slightest interest to make the journey with me to sit at the feet of Krishnamurti. Somehow, in this case, however, I knew he was not the right person to take along.
All my efforts to discourage his accompaniment failed. So, we climbed into his 1970’s green Fiat station wagon and we were off.

We arrived with little incident and sat down in the field with the others who had come to listen to the words of Krishnamurti. The Master arrived. He sat down in his chair and began to speak.
 
The Bees
One of the common occurrences in the springtime in Ojai was that there were quite a few bees buzzing around the lecture site. This day was no different. In the many times I had been there, I had never seen anyone get stung, however. Well, that was all about to change...

“Ouch!” my friend screams, as Krishnamurti is in the midst of his discourse.

Yes, there I was, sitting ten feet from Krishnamurti, one foot from my friend, and he was screaming, “Ouch!” “Ouch, I got stung by a bee!”
Now, all the thoughts that would normally race through anyone’s mind raced through mine, “Maybe Krishnamurti will think that I don’t know this guy.” “But no, he is sitting closer to me than anyone else. And, as there are not that many people here. He has to know!” “Man, if I had gotten stung, I would not have screamed. I would have just held it in.”

Through all of the mental calisthenics, which were going on in my mind, I kept my focus on Krishnamurti. Except for a brief moment of silence, when the initial yell rang out, he never stopped his lecture.

How profound, I understood. It immediately brought me back to my center. The average person may have inquired as to the nature and condition of a single person’s injury. But, that would take away from the greater good—from all of those sitting in his presence, absorbing what he had to say.

My friend sat there ranting, until I told him he really needed to be quiet. Krishnamurti did not flinch.
 
The Center of Attention
This is one of the leading problems with the human condition. People want to be the center of attention. They desire focus to be placed solely upon themselves—sympathy for their trials and tribulations. Physical Self is only Physical Self, however.

Nobody can feel what you feel but you. Understanding this, you must come to the ultimate conclusion that what you are going through is what you are going through.

Certainly, in lesser circumstances, attention can be given to individual needs. But, in the grand scheme of the evolving consciousness of humanity, a single bee sting is of little overall importance. How you deal with your bee stings, however, delineates your level of interactive consciousness. And, your consciousness must be acutely interactive, with the cosmic whole, if you desire to raise it to the level where Nirvana may be encountered.
 
Story Telling
I recently told this story to a friend of mine. She immediately chimed in; “It’s all about ego. Your ego was damaged because your friend was screaming. Your friend’s ego was hurt because a bee stung him. Krishnamurti’s ego was telling him, ‘Why is this guy yelling during my lecture.’”

Though laughingly dumbfounded by her initial assessment of the situation, it did make me realize how we each perceive life from our own level of evolution. This is the basis for Satori. If you are locked into focusing solely upon the perception of your own ego and your own Physical Self, then you can never, “Release” and experience Cosmic Consciousness.

Therefore, you must base your movement towards enlightenment on the understanding that we are all physical beings, with the limitations of human perceptions. By stepping beyond these limitations is what causes all of us to encounter Satori.

Motorcycle Satori
During this same period of time, I remember one spring evening when I was twenty years old. I had nothing really to do and nowhere really to go. But, I knew I needed to be, “Out.” So, I climbed onto my motorcycle and begin to ride around the hills of the West San Fernando Valley.

As I rode, something came over me. It was not the freedom commonly associated with riding a motorcycle, it was something much deeper. I began to transcend the limitation of my Physical Self, which I had been so keenly focused upon that particular day.

To make a long story short—I rode through the hills, as a totally blissful sensation began to overtake me. An experience that escapes words.

Like some divine force guided me, I began to close my eyes as I continued to ride. I embraced the pure white light.

I rode on for what seemed like forever. Every now and then I would open my eyes and see that I was traveling down the street, exactly where I should be. This blissful ride, with my eyes mostly closed, went on for maybe an hour or so. Then, as if coming down off a drug high, I began to reconnect with my Physical Self. My eyes naturally began to remain open for longer and longer periods. Though I tried, I could not recapture the feeling. So, I eventually headed for home.

Note: As this occurrence was a manifestation of the physical life I call my own. And, as each person walks a different path and their life is orchestrated to their own needs—it is essential to keep in mind, never try to imitate what another person has lived. In other words, “Don’t try this at home.”

Atman and Brahman
Physical Self is only Physical Self. Physical Self is not Higher Self. This is why consciousness is divided into two differing levels: Atman and Brahman—Individual Self and Universal Self.

If you maintain your focus upon Individual Self: your wants, your needs, your desires, your pain, and your suffering, you can never transcend the limitations of Individual Self and merge with the Cosmic Whole. For this reason, an individual on the Spiritual Path begins to move their consciousness away from the momentary affliction, which plague the Individual Self and formally transform their consciousness to the more profound realms of understanding.

Life is life and some things hurt. This is a part of the human condition. Lying about it, to yourself or others, is not the resolution of this issue. Transcendence, however, is the path to overcoming the limitation of Self. Krishnamurti knew it—he kept speaking.
 
A Pathway to Satori
For the individual, on the pathway to enlightenment, getting stung by a bee, while a transcendent individual such as Krishnamurti was speaking, would have induced an instant dose of Satori.

Satori, that sudden burst of enlightenment that can happen anywhere, at any time.

I mean, how profound—getting stung by a bee while in the presence of an enlightened being. This would instantly shift anyone out of normal consciousness. What more could you ask for?

For Satori to be encountered, however, you must be void of Individual Self—or at least willing to shift out of the mode of Individual Self. This is why, for centuries, the Masters of Zen have guided the students to ponder the Koan. A Koan is an abstract statement that shifts the mind from the bounds of known reality.

By performing this meditative action, the Thinking Mind encounters new realms of consciousness not encountered by the average individual. This is why Zen is vastly different from other schools of Meditative Consciousness—it trains the mind to formally embrace the abstract—consciously. From this, the restrains of everyday thinking gradually fall away and the experience of Satori is encountered.
 
Enlightenment is Everywhere
Many people believe that the only path to enlightenment is through meditation. They are wrong. Enlightenment is available everywhere. You just have to be open to the process and willing to let it enter you from where ever you find yourself—riding a motorcycle, getting stung by a bee, or sitting in meditation.

The trials and tribulations of life are a great source point for Satori. With each obstacle, or bee sting, you can either get upset, focus your consciousness on the limitations of the physical world, and remove yourself from the realms of enlightenment. Or, you can witness how ridiculous this place we call life is and embrace the perfect beauty of it.

Open up, see the beauty, embrace the perfection, and your bee stings will be your path to Nirvana.

This is a chapter from the book:

Zen: Tales from the Journey

Copyright (c) 1995—All Rights Reserved