23rd There were a few wandering clouds in the early morning sky which was so pale, quiet and without time. The sun was waiting for the excellency of the morning to finish. The dew was on the meadows and there were no shadows and the trees were alone, waiting for them. It was very early and even the stream was hesitant to make its boisterous run. It was quiet and the breeze hadn't yet awakened and the leaves were still. There was no smoke yet from any of the farmhouses but the roofs began to glow with the coming light. The stars were yielding reluctantly to dawn and there was that peculiar silent expectation when the sun is about to come; the hills were waiting and so were the trees and meadows open in their joy. Then the sun touched the mountain tops, a gentle soothing touch and the snow became bright with the early morning light; the leaves began to stir from the long night and smoke was going straight up from one of the cottages and the stream was chattering away, without any restraint. And slowly, hesitantly and with delicate shyness the long shadows spread across the land; the mountains cast their shadows on the hills and the hills on the meadows and the trees were waiting for their shadows but soon they were there, the light ones and the deep ones, the feathery and the heavy. And the aspens were dancing, the day had begun.

一些游荡的云，飘在清晨的天空中，那么苍白，安静，无关于时间。 太阳在等待早晨的辉煌，直到结束。 露水在草地上， 没有影子，树独立地等待着它们。 时间还很早，就连溪流也犹豫着要不要闹腾起来。 很安静，微风还没醒来，树叶还没动。 任何农舍都没有炊烟，但屋顶开始随着即将到来的光明而发亮。 星星不情愿地屈服于黎明， 当太阳即将到来时，有一种特有的安静的期待； 山丘在等待，树木和草地也在欢呼雀跃。 然后，阳光碰到了大山的顶峰， 温柔舒缓的抚摸，雪在清晨的曙光中变得明亮； 叶子从漫长的夜晚中苏醒，开始摆动 炊烟从其中一个小屋直接冒了出来 溪流叽叽喳喳地流淌着，没有任何克制。 慢慢地，犹豫地，带着微妙的羞涩，长长的阴影在大地上蔓延； 高大的山脉在山丘上投下了阴影 草地上是山丘的阴影，这些树等待着它们的阴影 但很快它们在那里，细小的和深暗的，轻盈的和沉重的。 白杨树跳起舞来，这一天开始了。

Meditation is this attention in which there is an awareness, without choice, of the movement of all things, the cawing of the crows, the electric saw ripping through the wood, the trembling of leaves, the noisy stream, a boy calling, the feelings, the motives, the thoughts chasing each other and going deeper, the awareness of total consciousness. And in this attention, time as yesterday pursuing into the space of tomorrow and the twisting and turning of consciousness has become quiet and still. In this stillness there is an immeasurable, not comparable movement; a movement that has no being, that's the essence of bliss and death and life. A movement that cannot be followed for it leaves no path and because it is still, motionless; it is the essence of all motion.

冥想就是这种关注 里面有一种觉知，没有选择，万物的动作， 乌鸦的叫声，电锯割裂木头， 树叶的颤抖，嘈杂的溪流，一个男孩的呼唤， 这些感觉，这些动机，这些互相追逐的思想，越来越深入， 整个意识的这种觉知。 在这关注中， 作为昨日和追逐明日的空间的时间，和意识的曲折 已经变得安静并停下了。 在这种静止中，有一个无法估量的、无法比拟的动作； 一个不存在的动作，那是祝福的精髓，是死亡和生命。 一个无法跟随的动作，因为它没有留下任何的痕迹，因为它是静止的、岿然不动的； 它是所有运动的精髓。

The road went west, curling through rain-soaked meadows, past small villages on the slope of hills, crossing the mountain streams of clear snow waters, past churches with copper steeples; it went on and on into dark, cavernous clouds and rain, with mountains closing in. It began to drizzle, and looking back casually through the back window of the slow-moving car, from where we had come, there were the sunlit clouds, blue sky and the bright, clear mountains. Without saying a word, instinctively, the car stopped, backed and turned and we went on towards light and mountains. It was impossibly beautiful and as the road turned into an open valley, the heart stood still; it was still and as open as the expanding valley, it was completely shattering. We had been through that valley several times; the shape of the hills were fairly familiar; the meadows and the cottages were recognizable and the familiar noise of the stream was there. Everything was there except the brain, though it was driving the car. Everything had become so intense, there was death. Not because the brain was quiet, not because of the beauty of the land, or of the light on the clouds or the immovable dignity of the mountains; it was none of these things, though all these things may have added something towards it. It was literally death; everything suddenly coming to an end; there was no continuity, the brain was directing the body in driving the car and that was all. Literally that was all. The car went on for some time and stopped. There was life and death, so closely, intimately, inseparably together and neither was important. Something shattering had taken place.

一路向西，蜿蜒穿过被雨水浸透的草地， 经过山坡上的小村庄， 穿过清澈的雪水所形成的山涧，路过带有铜尖塔的教堂； 一直抵达黑暗的、海绵状的云朵和雨，笼罩着山脉。 开始下起了毛毛雨，透过缓慢行驶的汽车后窗，漫不经心地回望， 从我们来的地方，有阳光明媚的云彩、蓝天和明亮清晰的山脉。 一言不发，本能地， 车停了下来，后退，转弯，我们继续向光明和山脉前进。 它美得不可思议，当这条转到一个开阔的山谷时，这颗心脏静止了； 它是那么地静，如辽阔的山谷一样敞开，它完全粉碎了。 我们已经穿过那个山谷好几次了； 山丘的形状已经相当地熟悉； 草地和小屋是可识别的，熟悉的溪流声在那里。 除了这颗大脑之外，一切都在那里，尽管它在开车。 一切都变得如此激烈，那是死亡。 不是因为大脑的安静， 不是因为大地的美丽，不是因为云上的光，或山脉那不可动摇的庄严； 不是这些东西，尽管所有这些东西都可能为它增添了某些东西。 它是真实地死亡；一切都突然地走到尽头； 没有延续，这颗大脑在指挥这具身体开车，那是一切。 实际上，那就是一切。车子行驶了一段时间，停下了。 那就生命与死亡，如此地密切、亲昵、密不可分，而两者都不重要。 某种粉碎已经发生。

There was no deception or imagination; it was much too serious for that kind of silly aberration; it was not something to play about. Death is not a casual affair and it would not go; there's no argument with it. You can have a lifelong discussion with life but it is not possible with death. It's so final and absolute. It wasn't the death of the body; that would be a fairly simple and decisive event. Living with death was quite another matter. There was life and there was death; they were there inexorably united. It wasn't a psychological death; it wasn't a shock that drove out all thought, all feeling; it wasn't a sudden aberration of the brain nor a mental illness. It was none of these things nor a curious decision of a brain that was tired or in despair. It wasn't an unconscious wish for death. It was none of these things; these would be immature and so easily connived at. It was something in a different dimension; it was something that defied time-space description.

没有欺骗或想象； 对于那种愚蠢的偏执来说，它太严重了；它可不是某个可以把玩的东西。 死亡不是随便的东西，它也不会走； 与它争辩是不可能的。 你可以与生命进行终生的讨论，但与死亡讨论是不可能的。 它如此地致命和绝对。它不是这具身体的死亡； 那会是一个相当简单和明确的事件。 与死亡同行是另一回事。 有生命，也有死亡；它们在那里，不可阻挡地抱成一团。 它不是心理的死亡； 它不是一种赶跑了所有的思想，所有的感受的震惊； 它不是大脑突发的异常，也不是精神疾病。 它不是这些东西，也不是疲惫或绝望的大脑所作出的奇怪的决定。 它不是对死亡的无意识地期盼。 这些都不是它；这些是不成熟的，很容易被纵容。 它是某个不同维度的东西；它是无视时空描述的东西。

It was there, the very essence of death. The essence of self is death but this death was the very essence of life as well. In fact they were not separate, life and death. This was not something conjured up by the brain for its comfort and ideational security. The very living was the dying and dying was living. In that car, with all that beauty and colour, with that "feeling" of ecstasy, death was part of love, part of everything. Death wasn't a symbol, an idea, a thing that one knew. It was there, in reality, in fact, as intense and demanding as the honk of a car that wanted to pass. As life would never leave nor can be set aside, so death now would never leave or be put aside. It was there with an extraordinary intensity and with a finality.

它就在那里，这死亡的精髓。 我的精髓就是死亡，但死亡也是生命的精髓。 事实上，它们不是分开的，生命与死亡。 这不是大脑为了它的舒适和思想的安全而捏造出来的东西。 生活就是送死，去死就是生活。 在那辆车里，伴随着所有的美丽和色彩，伴随着至乐的那种‘感觉’， 死亡是爱的一部分，是一切的一部分。 死亡不是一个符号，一个想法，一个人所知道的东西。 它在那里，在现实中，在事实里，就像一辆想要通行的汽车的喇叭声一样强烈和苛刻。 正如生命永远不会离开，也不能被搁置，因此，现在，死亡永远不会离开或被搁置。 它在那里，伴随着非凡的强度和致命性。

All night one lived with it; it seemed to have taken possession of the brain and the usual activities; not too many of the brain's movements went on but there was a casual indifference about them. There was indifference previously but now it was past and beyond all formulation. Everything had become much more intense, both life and death.

整个夜晚，一个人都和它住在一起； 它似乎已经占据了这颗大脑和平常的活动； 大脑的动作没有太多，但对它们有一种随意性的冷漠。 以前有过冷漠，但现在它已经消逝了，并超出了所有的表述。 一切都变得更加激烈，无论是生命还是死亡。

Death was there on waking, without sorrow, but with life. It was a marvellous morning. There was that benediction which was the delight of the mountains and of the trees.

苏醒时，死亡在就在那里，没有悲伤，却伴随着生命。 它是一个奇妙的早晨。 那种祝福，是山脉和树的欢快。

24th It was a warm day and there were plenty of shadows; the rocks shone with a solid brilliance. The dark pines never seemed to move, unlike those aspens which were ready to tremble at the slightest whisper. There was a strong breeze from the west, sweeping through the valley. The rocks were so alive that they seemed to run after the clouds and the clouds clung to them, taking the shape and the curve of the rocks; they flowed around them and it was difficult to separate the rocks from the clouds. And the trees were walking with the clouds. The whole valley seemed to be moving and the small, narrow paths that went up to the woods and beyond, seemed to yield and come alive. And the sparkling meadows were the haunt of shy flowers. But this morning rocks ruled the valley; they were of so many colours that there was only colour; these rocks were gentle this morning and they were of so many shapes and sizes. And they were so indifferent to everything, to the wind, rains and to the explosions for the needs of man. They had been there and they were going to be past all time.

这是温暖的一天，有很多阴影；岩石闪耀着坚硬的亮光。 黑松似乎一动不动， 不像那些白杨，它准备以最轻微的耳语来颤抖。 一阵强风从西边吹来，席卷山谷。 岩石是如此鲜活，以至于她们似乎在追逐云朵 云紧紧抓住她们，呈现出岩石的形状和轮廓； 它们在她们的周围流动，很难将岩石与云朵分开。 树与云结伴同行。 整个山谷似乎同时在移动， 这条通往树林和更远处的狭窄的小径，似乎屈服并活了起来。 波光粼粼的草地，是害羞的花朵的出没地。 但这个早晨，岩石统治着山谷； 她们如此多彩，以至于只剩下色彩； 在这个早晨，这些岩石是温柔的，她们有很多形态和尺寸。 她们对一切都漠不关心，对风、雨，对为满足人的需要而进行的爆破，都漠不关心。 她们在那里，她们将一直穿透一切的时间。

It was a splendid morning and the sun was everywhere and every leaf was stirring; it was a good morning for the drive, not long but enough to see the beauty of the land. It was a morning that was made new by death, not the death of decay, disease or accident but the death that destroys for creation to be. There is no creation if death does not sweep away all the things that the brain has put together to safeguard the self-centred existence. Death, previously, was a new form of continuity; death was associated with continuity. With death came a new existence, a new experience, a new breath and a new life. The old ceased and the new was born and the new then gave place to yet another new. Death was the means to the new state, new invention, to a new way of life, to a new thought. It was a frightening change but that very change brought a fresh hope.

这是一个灿烂的早晨，阳光无处不在，每一片叶子都在摆弄； 它是一个适合开车的美丽的早晨，不怎么长远，却足以看到这片土地的美丽。 它是一个因死亡而焕然一新的早晨， 不是腐烂、疾病或事故的死亡 而是为创造而毁灭的死亡。 如果死亡不扫除一切事物，就没有创造 为了保护以自我为中心的存在，这颗大脑因此而幻化成形。 死亡，在以前，是一种新的延续； 死亡与延续有关。 随着死亡而来的是一个新的存在，一个新的体验，一口新的气息和一个新的生命。 旧的停止了，新的诞生了，然后，这个新让位于另一个新。 死亡是通向新状态、新发明、新生活方式、新思想的手段。 它是一种令人恐怖的改变，但正是那种改变带来了一个新的希望。

But now death did not bring anything new, a new horizon, a new breath. It is death, absolute and final. And then there's nothing, neither past nor future. Nothing. There's no giving birth to anything. But there's no despair, no seeking; complete death without time; looking out of great depths which are not there. Death is there without the old or the new. It is death without smile and tear. It is not a mask covering up, hiding some reality. The reality is death and there's no need for cover. Death has wiped away everything and left nothing. This nothing is the dance of the leaf, it is the call of that child. It is nothing and there must be nothing. What continues is decay, the machine, the habit, the ambition. There is corruption but not in death. Death is total nothingness. It must be there for out of that, life is, love is. For in this nothingness creation is. Without absolute death, there's no creation.

但是现在，死亡并没有带来任何新的事物，新的地平线，新的气息。 它是死亡，绝对的和最终的。 然后，什么都没有，既没有过去也没有未来。没有。 任何东西都没有诞生。 也没有绝望，没有寻求； 没有时间，彻底的死亡； 观看那巨大而无量的深邃。 死亡在那里，没有旧的或新的。 它是死亡，没有微笑和眼泪。 它不是一张覆盖、隐匿真实的面具。 这个真实是死亡，不需要掩盖。 死亡扫除了一切，留下了空无。 这种空无，是叶子的舞蹈，是那个孩子的呼唤。 它什么都没有，必定是空无。 那延续下来的，是腐朽，是这个机械、这个习惯，这种雄心。 里面有的是腐朽，却没有死亡。 死亡是完全的虚无。 它必须在那里，从那里出来的，是生命，是爱。 因为在这个虚无中，有创造。 没有绝对的死亡，就没有创造。

We were reading something, casually and remarking about the state of the world when suddenly and unexpectedly the room became full with that benediction, which has come so often now. The door was open in the little room and we were just going to eat when through the open door it came. One could literally, physically feel it, like a wave flowing into the room. It became "more" and "more" intense, the more is not comparatively used; it was something that was incredibly strong and immovable, with shattering power. Words are not the thing and the actual thing can never be put into words; it must be seen, heard and lived; then it has quite a different significance.

我们在阅读某些东西，随意地，评论世界的状况 突然间，出乎意料地，房间里充满了那种祝福，现在已经来得太频繁了。 这个小房间的门是开着的 我们正要吃饭，就从敞开的门进来了。 一个人可以真实地，在身体上感觉到它，就像波浪涌入房间一样。 它变得‘越’来‘越’强烈，这种‘越’不是比较性的使用； 它是一种不可思议的强壮和不可动摇，带着碾压性的气势。 言语不是这个东西，实际的东西永远无法用语言表达； 它必须被看到、听到和并与之生活； 那么它就具有完全不同的意义。

The process has been acute the last few days; and one need not write about it every day. [********* The process is not mentioned again, though presumably it continued.]

在过去几天之中，这个过程很严重； 一个人不需要每天都写它。 [********* 这个过程没有再次提及，尽管大概它仍在继续。]

25th It was very early in the morning; there wouldn't be dawn for another couple of hours or more. Orion was just coming up over the top of that peak that is beyond the curving and wooded hills. There was not a cloud in the sky but from the feel of the air, there would probably be fog. It was an hour of quietness and even the stream was sleeping; there was a fading moonlight and the hills were dark, clear in their shape, against the pale sky. There was no breeze and the trees were still and the stars were bright.

离天亮还很早。几个小时或更长的时间都不会出现黎明。 猎户座刚刚从那座山峰的顶上出来，那座山峰超越了弯曲的、树木繁茂的山丘。 天空中没有一朵云， 但是，从对空气的感觉来看，可能会有雾。 有一个小时的安静，甚至溪流都在睡觉； 月光渐渐暗淡，山丘在苍白的天空映衬下，一片漆黑，形状清晰。 没有微风，树木静止，星辰明亮。

Meditation is not a search; it's not a seeking, a probing, an exploration. It is an explosion and discovery. It's not the taming of the brain to conform nor is it a self-introspective analysis; it is certainly not the training in concentration which includes, chooses and denies. It's something that comes naturally, when all positive and negative assertions and accomplishments have been understood and drop away easily. It is the total emptiness of the brain. It's the emptiness that is essential not what's in the emptiness; there is seeing only from emptiness; all virtue, not social morality and respectability, springs from it. It's out of this emptiness love comes, otherwise it's not love. Foundation of righteousness is in this emptiness. It's the end and beginning of all things.

冥想不是一种探寻；它不是一种寻求，一种探测，一种探索。 它是一种爆炸和发现。 它不是驯服大脑去顺从，也不是自我反省的分析； 当然，它不是包涵了选择和拒绝的专注度训练。 它是某个自然而然的东西， 所有肯定的和否定的断言和成就 都已经被理解并轻松地扔掉。 它是大脑完全地虚无。 这虚无就是精髓，而不是虚无中的东西； 只有从虚无中，才能看； 所有的美德，不是指社会上的道德和尊严，都源于它。 爱就是从这虚无中出来的，否则它就不是爱。 公义的基础就在这虚无之中。 它是一切事物的结束和开始。

Looking out of the window, as Orion was climbing higher and higher, the brain was intensely alive and sensitive and meditation became something entirely different, something which the brain could not cope with and so fell back upon itself and became silent. The hours till dawn and after seemed to have had no beginning and as the sun came up the mountains and the clouds caught its first rays and there was astonishment in splendour. And day began. Strangely meditation went on.

望向窗外，猎户座爬得越来越高， 大脑非常活跃和敏感 冥想变成了某个完全不同的东西， 某种大脑无法应对的东西，所以它回到了它自己的身上，变得安静。 在黎明和黎明之后的时间里，似乎没有开始 当太阳升上山脉时 云朵捕捉到了第一缕阳光，灿烂中充满了惊艳。 一天开始了。 奇怪的是，冥想在继续进行。

26th It had been a beautiful morning, full of sunshine and shadows; the garden in the nearby hotel was full of colours, all colours and they were so bright and the grass so green that they hurt the eye and the heart. And the mountains beyond were glistening with a freshness and a sharpness, washed by the morning dew. It was an enchanting morning and there was beauty everywhere; over the narrow bridge, across the stream, up a path into the wood, where the sunshine was playing with the leaves; they were trembling and their shadows moved; they were common plants but they outdid in their greenness and freshness all the trees that soared up to the blue skies. You could only wonder at all this delight, at the extravagance, at the trembling; you could not but be amazed at the quiet dignity of every tree and plant and at the endless joy of those black squirrels, with long, bushy tails. The waters of the stream were clear and sparkling in the sun that came through the leaves. It was damp in the wood and pleasant. Standing there watching the leaves dancing away suddenly there was the otherness, a timeless occurrence and there was stillness. It was a stillness in which everything moved, danced and shouted; it wasn't a stillness which comes when a machine stops working; mechanical stillness is one thing and the stillness in emptiness is another. The one is repetitive, habitual, corrupting which the conflicting and weary brain seeks as a refuge; the other is exploding, never the same, it cannot be searched out, is never repetitive, and so it does not offer any shelter. Such a stillness came and stayed as we wandered along, and the beauty of the wood intensified and the colours exploded to be caught on the leaves and flowers.

这是一个美丽的早晨，充满了阳光和阴影； 附近酒店的花园色彩缤纷，所有的色彩， 它们如此明亮，草地如此地绿，以至于它们伤害了眼睛和心脏。 远处的群山闪耀着清新和锐利的光芒，被晨露洗净。 这是一个迷人的早晨，到处都是美； 越过狭窄的桥，穿过溪水，沿着一条小径进入树林， 那里，阳光在与树叶玩游戏； 它们在颤抖，它们的影子在移动； 它们是常见的植物，但它们的绿和鲜艳超过了所有的树 那色彩直冲云霄。 你只能惊讶这一切的欢快、奢靡、颤抖； 你不禁惊奇于每棵树和植物的这种安然的尊严 还有那些黑松鼠的无尽欢悦，尾巴又长又浓密。 溪水清澈见底，在透过树叶的阳光下闪闪发光。 树林里湿润，令人愉快。 站着看树叶突然飞舞而去， 突然有这异类，一场非时间的遭遇和静止。 而这种静止中，其中的一切都在动，跳着和呐喊着； 它不是机械停止运转时出现的静止； 机械的静止是一回事，虚无中的静止是另一个东西。 一个是重复的、习惯性的、腐败的，是处于冲突和疲惫的大脑所寻求的庇护所； 另一个是爆炸，永远不一样， 它不能被找出来，它从不重复，所以它不提供任何庇护所。 当我们游玩时，这种静止来了，并留了下来， 树林的美被增强，这些色彩爆炸了，被叶子和花朵所捕获。

It was not a very old church, about the beginning of the seventeenth century, at least it said so over the arch; it had been renovated and the wood was light-coloured pine and the steel nails looked bright and polished, which was impossible, of course; one was almost sure that those who had gathered there to listen to some music never looked at those nails all over the ceiling. It was not an orthodox church, there was no smell of incense, candles or images. It was there and the sun came in through the windows. There were many children, told not to talk or play which didn't prevent them from being restless, looking terribly solemn and their eyes ready to laugh. One wanted to play, came close but was too shy to come any nearer. They were rehearsing for the concert that evening and everyone was dutifully solemn and there was interest. Outside the grass was bright, the sky clear blue and shadows were numberless.

它不是一个很古老的教堂， 大约在十七世纪初，至少它在拱门上是这样写的； 它已经装修过，木材是浅色松木 钢钉看起来光亮而光洁，这当然是不可能的； 一个人几乎可以肯定， 那些聚集在那里听音乐的人从来没有看过天花板上的那些钉子。 它不是一座东正教教堂，没有香、蜡烛或图像的气味。 它在那里，阳光从窗户射进来。 有很多孩子，被告知不要说话或玩耍 这并没有阻碍他们的顽皮，看起来很肃穆，而他们眼神已经准备发笑。 一个人想玩，靠近，但太害羞了，不敢靠近。 那天晚上他们正在为音乐会排练，每个人都尽职尽责地庄严，看起来很有趣。 外面的草地很明亮，天空湛蓝，阴影数不胜数。

Why this everlasting struggle to be perfect, to achieve perfection, as the machines are? The idea, the example, the symbol of perfection is something marvellous, ennobling, but is it? Of course there's the attempt to imitate the perfect, the perfect example. Is imitation perfection? Is there perfection or is it merely an idea, given to man by the preacher to keep him respectable? In the idea of perfection there's a great deal of comfort and security and always it is profitable both to the priest and to the one who's trying to become perfect. A mechanical habit, repeated over and over again can eventually be perfected; only habit can be perfected. Thinking, believing the same thing over and over again, without deviation, becomes a mechanical habit and perhaps this is the kind of perfection everyone wants. This cultivates a perfect wall of resistance, which will prevent any disturbance, any discomfort. Besides, perfection is a glorified form of success, and ambition is blessed by respectability and the representatives and heroes of success. There's no perfection, it's an ugly thing, except in a machine. The attempt to be perfect is, really, to break the record, as in golf; competition is saintly. To compete with your neighbour and with God for perfection is called brotherhood and love. But each attempt at perfection leads only to greater confusion and sorrow which only gives greater impetus to be more perfect.

为什么像机器一样，去抓捕完美，为了达到完美而不断地挣扎？ 这个理念、榜样、完美的象征是奇妙的、高尚的，但它是吗？ 当然了，有模仿完美、向模范看齐的尝试。 模仿是完美的吗？ 它是完美吗，或者仅仅是传道士给人的一个理念，以维护他的尊贵？ 在完美的理念中，有大量的安逸和安全感 对传道士和试图变得完美的人来说，它总是都是有利可图的。 一个机械性的习惯，一遍又一遍地重复，最终可以变得完美； 只有习惯才能变得完美。 思考，一遍又一遍地相信同样的东西， 不偏离，成为一个机械性的习惯 —— 也许这就是每个人都想要的完美。 这样一来，就培养出了一堵完美的抵抗之墙，将抵御任何的干扰，任何的不适。 而且，完美是一种成功的光辉形象， 雄心被那些尊贵阶层、那些成功者和英雄们所神圣化。 不存在完美，它是一种丑陋的东西，除了在机器之中。 追求完美的尝试实际上是去打破记录，就像打高尔夫一样；竞争是神圣的。 与你的邻居、与上帝竞争，以达到那被称之为‘完美’的情谊与爱。 但每一次追求完美的尝试，只会导致更大的困惑与悲伤 —— 只会给‘更完美’添加动力。

It's curious, we always want to be perfect in or with something; this gives the means for achievement, and the pleasure of achievement, of course, is vanity. Pride in any form is brutal and leads to disaster. The desire for perfection outwardly or inwardly denies love and without love, do what you will, there's always frustration and sorrow. Love is neither perfect nor imperfect; it's only when there's no love that perfection and imperfection arise. Love never strives after something; it does not make itself perfect. It's the flame without the smoke; in striving to be perfect, there's only greater volume of smoke; perfection, then, lies only in striving, which is mechanical, more and more perfect in habit, in imitation, in engendering more fear. Each one is educated to compete, to become successful; then the end becomes all important. Love for the thing itself disappears. Then the instrument is used not for the love of the sound but for what the instrument will bring, fame, money, prestige and so on.

很奇怪，我们总是想在某些方面上变得完美； 这样，就有了成功的手段，而成功的这种乐趣，当然，就是虚荣。 任何形式的骄傲都是残酷的，并导致灾难。 渴望外在或内在的完美，就拒绝了爱。 没有爱，无论你做什么，总会有挫折和悲伤。 爱既不完美也不是不完美； 只有当没有爱时，完美和不完美才会出现。 爱从来不追求某个东西；它不会使自己变得完美。 它是没有烟雾的火焰； 在追求完美的过程中，只有更多的烟雾； 因此，完美只存在于追求之中，是机械性的， 在习惯上、在模仿中、在更多的恐惧下，变得越来越完美。 每个人都接受过竞争、渴望成功的教育； 那样一来，结果就变得很重要了。 对事物本身的爱也就消失了。 那么，这个身体不是为了爱而发声 而是为了名誉、金钱、声望等等而被利用。

Being is infinitely more significant than becoming. Being is not the opposite of becoming; if it's the opposite or in opposition, then there is no being. When becoming dies completely, then there's being. But this being is not static; it's not acceptance nor is it mere denial; becoming involves time and space. All striving must cease; then only there is being. Being is not within the field of social virtue and morality. It shatters the social formula of life. This being is life, not the pattern of life. Where life is there's no perfection; perfection is an idea, a word; life, the being, is beyond any formula of thought. It is there when the word, the example, and the pattern are destroyed.

现在比成功重要得多。 现在不是成功的对立面； 如果它是对立面或有对立面，那么它就不是现在。 当成功完全死亡时，就是现在。 但现在不是静态的；它不接受，也不仅仅是否定； 成功涉及到时间和空间。 一切的追求必须停止；那么只有现在。 现在不在社会美德和道德的领域之内。 它碾压生命的社会准则。 这个现在，是生命，而不是生命的规则。 哪里有生命，哪里就没有完美； 完美是一个理念，一个词；生命，现在，超越了思想的任何准则。 当这个词、这个榜样和这个准则被摧毁时，它就在。

It has been there, this benediction, for hours and in flashes. On waking this morning, many hours before sunrise, when there was the eclipse of the moon, it was there with such strength and power, that sleep for a couple of hours was not possible. There is a strange purity and innocency in it.

它已经在那里，这个祝福，停留了几个小时，或者是一闪而过。 今天早上醒来时，日出前几个小时， 当月食时，它在那里，具有如此的力量和气势， 俩小时的睡眠是不可能的。 它里面有一种奇怪的纯洁和纯真。

27th The stream, joined by other little streams, meandered through the valley, noisily and the chatter was never the same. It had its own moods but never unpleasant, never a dark mood, The little ones had a sharper note, there were more boulders and rocks; they had quiet pools in the shade, shallow with dancing shadows and at night they had quite a different tone, soft, gentle and hesitant. They came down through different valleys from different sources, one much further away than the other; one from a glacier and from a winding waterfall and the other must come from a source too far away to walk to. They both joined the bigger stream which had a deep quiet tone, more dignified, wider and swifter. All the three of them were tree-lined and the long curving line of trees showed where these streams came from and where they went, they were the occupants of the valleys and everyone else was a stranger, including the trees. One could watch them by the hour and listen to their endless chatter; they were very gay and full of fun, even the bigger one, though it had to maintain certain dignity. They were of the mountains, from dizzy heights nearer the heavens and so purer and nobler; they were not snobs but they maintained their way and they were rather distant and chilly. In the dark of the night they had a song of their own, when few were listening. It was a song of many songs.

这条溪流与其他溪流汇合，蜿蜒穿过山谷， 喧哗着，哗啦啦的声响从来都不一样。 他有自己的心情，却从来不是不愉快的、黑暗的心情， 小家伙们的音符更尖锐，有更多的巨石和岩石； 他们在阴凉处有安静的水池， 浅处有在跳舞的影子，到了晚上，他们的音调完全不同、柔软、温和而犹豫。 他们来自不同的发源地，穿过不同的山谷，一个比另一个更远； 一个来自冰川和蜿蜒的瀑布 另一个必定来自太远而无法前行的源头。 他们都加入更大的溪流，这条溪流的音调低沉，更庄重，更宽阔，更迅速。 他们三个都伴有绿树成荫、 长而弯曲的树线，显示出这些溪流来自何方，去了哪里， 他们是山谷的居民，其他人都是陌生人，包括树。 一个人可以数小时观看他们，听他们无休止的聊天； 他们非常欢乐，充满了趣味，即使是更大的那条，尽管它必须保持一定的尊严。 他们属于山脉，来自于天空附近的、令人眩晕的高海拔 如此纯洁、更是高贵； 他们不是势利小人，却坚持他们自己的方式，他们相当遥远和高冷。 在漆黑的夜晚，他们唱起一曲他们自己的歌，却少有人在听。 这是一首许多歌曲中的一曲。

Crossing the bridge, up in the sun-speckled wood, meditation was quite a different thing. Without any wish and search, without any complaint of the brain, there was unenforced silence; the little birds were chirping away, the squirrels were chasing up the trees, the breeze was playing with the leaves and there was silence. The little stream, the one coming from a long distance, was more cheerful than ever and yet there was silence, not outside but deep, far within. It was total stillness within the totality of the mind, which had no frontiers. It was not the silence within an enclosure, within an area, within the limits of thought and so recognized as stillness. There were no frontiers, no measurements and so the silence was not held within experience, to be recognized and stored away. It may never occur again and if it did, it would be entirely different. Silence cannot repeat itself; only the brain through memory and recollection can repeat what had been, but what had been is not the actual. Meditation was this total absence of consciousness put together through time and space. Thought, the essence of consciousness, cannot, do what it will, bring about this stillness; the brain with all its subtle and complicated activities must quiet down of its own accord, without the promise of any reward or of security. Only then it can be sensitive, alive and quiet. The brain understanding its own activities, hidden and open, is part of meditation; it's the foundation in meditation, without it meditation is only self-deception, self-hypnosis, which has no significance whatsoever. There must be silence for the explosion of creation.

穿过这座桥，在阳光斑驳的树林里， 冥想是一件完全不同的事情。 没有任何愿望和搜索，没有任何发自大脑的抱怨，毫无强迫的安静； 小鸟叽叽喳喳地飞走，松鼠在树上追逐， 微风在玩弄树叶，空余一片寂静。 这条小溪从很远的地方而来， 比以往任何时候都更欢快，却有一种寂静，不在外面，而是在深处，很是深幽。 它是整个头脑深处的完整的静止，里面没有栅栏。 它不是那种在一个圈子里、在某个区域内、在思想范围内的安静。 那种安静被认为是静止。 这种东西没有围栏，不可测量 因此，这种寂静不在体验之内，无法被识别和储存。 它可能永远不会再发生，如果它发生了，那就会完全地不同。 寂静无法重复它自己； 只有这颗脑袋通过记忆和回忆，才能重复曾经的事情， 可是，往事并非这个真实。 冥想是意识的整体缺席，意识是通过时间和空间而组装起来的。 思想，意识的这个本质，不论怎么搞，都不能带来这种静止； 这颗大脑及其所有微妙而复杂的活动 必须自觉地安静下来，没有任何的奖励或安全的承诺。 只有这样，它才能敏感、生机勃勃和安静。 这颗大脑理解它所拥有的隐蔽的和开放的活动，就是冥想的一部分； 它是冥想的基础， 没有它，冥想只是自我欺骗，自我催眠， 也就没有任何的意义。 要出现创造的这种爆炸，必需安静。

Maturity is not of time and age. There is no interval between now and maturity; there is never "in the meantime". Maturity is that state when all choice has ceased; it's only the immature that choose and know the conflict of choice. In maturity there's no direction but there's a direction which is not a direction of choice. Conflict at any level, at any depth, indicates immaturity. There's no such thing as becoming mature, except organically, the mechanical inevitability of certain things to ripen. The understanding, which is the transcending of conflict, in all its complex varieties, is maturity. However complex it is and however subtle, the depth of conflict, within and without, can be understood. Conflict, frustration, fulfilment is one single movement, within and without. The tide that goes out must come in and for that movement itself, called the tide, there's no out and in. Conflict in all its forms must be understood, not intellectually, but actually, actually coming emotionally into contact with conflict. The emotional contact, the shock, is not possible if it is intellectually, verbally, accepted as necessary or denied sentimentally. Acceptance or denial does not alter a fact nor will reason bring about a necessary impact. What does is "seeing" the fact. There's no "seeing" if there is condemnation or justification or identification with the fact. "Seeing" is only possible when the brain is not actively participating, but observing, abstaining from classification, judgment and evaluation. There must be conflict when there is the urge to fulfil, with its inevitable frustrations; there is conflict when there is ambition, with its subtle and ruthless competition; envy is part of this ceaseless conflict, to become, to achieve, to succeed.

成熟与时间和年龄无关。 现在和成熟之间没有间隔； 从来没有‘同时’。成熟是所有的选择都停止时的状态； 只有不成熟的人，才去选择，才知道选择所带来的冲突。 在成熟中没有方向，却有一个不是选择的方向。 任何层次、任何深度的冲突，指示出不成熟。 没有所谓的‘变成熟了’， 除了那有机地，物理中的必然性的东西的成熟。 这种理解，超越了冲突以及它里面的所有繁杂的变化，就是成熟。 无论冲突有多么复杂，无论它有多么微妙，冲突的这个深度，无论是内在的还是外在的，都能被理解。 冲突、挫折、满足是同一个运动，包涵了内在和外在。 向外涌出的潮水必定向内撤回，因为那个运动本身， 被称之为潮汐，是没有内外之分的。 必须理解所有形式的冲突，不是在理智上， 而是真实地、真正地、深情地进入，并接触冲突。 如果它停留在理智上、在言语中，被接受，被认为是必要的，或者在感情上被拒绝， 那么，这种感情上的接触，这种震惊，是不可能有的。 接受或拒绝，没有改变事实，理智也不会带来必要的影响。 能做的是‘看’这个事实。 如果对这个事实进行谴责、辩解或认同，就没有‘看’。 只有在大脑不主动地参与， 而是在观察，扔掉了分类、判断和评估的时候，才有可能‘看’。 当有成功的冲动时，必然有冲突，并不可避免地感到沮丧； 当有雄心时，就有冲突，并带着微妙而无情的竞争； 这是无休止的冲突、成为、实现、成功，而嫉妒是其中的一部分。

There's no understanding in time. Understanding does not come tomorrow; it will never come tomorrow; it is now or never; there's only now and there's no never. The "seeing" is immediate; when from the brain the significance of "seeing", understanding, eventually is wiped away, then seeing is immediate. "Seeing" is explosive, not reasoned, calculated. It is fear that often prevents "seeing", understanding. Fear, with its defences and its courage, is the origin of conflict. The seeing is not only with the brain but also beyond it. Seeing the fact brings its own action, entirely different from the action of idea, thought; action from idea, thought, breeds conflict; action then is an approximation, comparison with the formula, with the idea, and this brings conflict. There's no end to conflict, small or great, in the field of thought; the essence of conflict is non-conflict which is maturity.

在时间的领域内，不存在理解。 理解不是来自于明天；它永远不会在明天到来；它就是现在，或者，永远不在； 只有现在，没有永远。 ‘看’是即刻的； 从大脑开始，‘看’的这种意义，理解它，最终清除它，那么，看就是即刻的。 ‘看’是爆炸性的，不是推理，不是算计。 正是恐惧，经常地阻止‘看’，阻止理解。 恐惧，以及它的防御和它的勇气，是冲突的根源。 这种看，不仅与大脑有关，而且超出它。 看见事实，就带来了它自己的行动，与理念、思想的行动完全地不同； 从理念、思想中采取的行动，滋生出冲突； 那么，行动成为一种近似，与这条规矩，与这个理念进行比较，就引发出冲突。 在思想领域，冲突是无止境的，无论大小； 冲突的精髓就是非冲突，也就是成熟。

On waking very early in the morning, that strange benediction was meditation and meditation was that benediction. It was there with great intensity, walking in a peaceful wood.

清晨醒来， 那个奇怪的祝福就是冥想，冥想就是那祝福。 它在那里，携带着巨大的激情，走在一片和平的树林中。