I wanted to know what Krishnamurti meant by “a religious man.”
“What is a religious man?”
Krishnamurti changed his tone and rhythm. He spoke now calmly, with incisiveness.
“I will tell you what a religious man is. First of all, a religious man is a man who is alone — not lonely, you understand, but alone — with no theories or dogmas, no opinion, no background. He is alone and loves it — free of conditioning and alone — and enjoying it. Second, a religious man must be both man and woman — I don’t mean sexually — but he must know the dual nature of everything; a religious man must feel and be both masculine and feminine. Third,” and now his manner intensified again, “to be a religious man, one must destroy everything — destroy the
past, destroy one’s convictions, interpretations, deceptions — destroy all self-hypnosis — destroy until there is no center; you understand, no center. “
He stopped. No center?
After a silence Krishnamurti said quietly,
“Then you are a religious person. Then stillness comes. Completely still.”
Still were the immense mountains around us.