Out of this awareness there comes a clarity that is not induced . . .

Out of this awareness there comes a clarity that is not induced . . .

If you sit on the bank of a river after a storm, you see the stream
going by, carrying a great deal of debris. Similarly, you have to watch
the movement of yourself—following every thought, every feeling, every
intention, every motive—just watch it. That watching is also listening;
it is being aware with your eyes, with your ears, with your insight, of
all the values that human beings have created, and by which you are
conditioned, and it is only this state of total awareness that will end
all seeking.

Please do listen to this. Most of us think that awareness is a
mysterious something to be practiced, and that we should get together day after
day to talk about awareness. Now, you don’t come to awareness that way
at all. But if you are aware of outward things—the curve of a road, the
shape of a tree, the color of another’s dress, the outline of the
mountains against a blue sky, the delicacy of a flower, the pain on the face
of a passerby, the ignorance, the envy, the jealousy of others, the
beauty of the earth—then, seeing all these outward things without
condemnation, without choice, you can ride on the tide of inner awareness. Then
you will become aware of your own reactions, of your own pettiness, of
your own jealousies. From the outward awareness you come to the inward,
but if you are not aware of the outer you cannot possibly come to the
inner.

When there is inward awareness of every activity of your mind and your
body, when you are aware of your thoughts, of your feelings, both
secret and open, conscious and unconscious, then out of this awareness there
comes a clarity that is not induced, not put together by the mind. And
without that clarity you may do what you will, you may search the
heavens and the earth and the deeps, but you will never find out what is
true.

Collected Works, Vol. XV - 242