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the churnings of thought. In knowledge and its action there is wonder, appreciation and delight. But mystery is quite another thing. It is not an experience, to be recognised, stored up and remembered. Experience is the death of that incommunicable mystery; to communicate you need a word, a gesture, a look, but to be in communion with that, the mind, the whole of you, must be at the same level, at the same time, with the same intensity as that which is called mysterious. This is love. With this the whole mystery of the universe is open.

This morning there wasn't a cloud in the sky, the sun was in the valley and all things were rejoicing, except man. He looked at this wondrous earth and went on with his labour, his sorrow and passing pleasures. He had no time to see; he was too occupied with his problems, with his agonies, with his violence. He doesn't see the tree and so he cannot see his own travail. When he's forced to look, he tears to pieces what he sees, which he calls analysis, runs away from it or doesn't want to see. In the art of seeing lies the miracle of transformation, the transformation of "what is". The "what should be" never is. There's vast mystery in the act of seeing. This needs care, attention, which is love.

14 TH APRIL 1975

A very large serpent was crossing a wide cart road just ahead of you, fat, heavy, moving lazily; it was coming from a largish pond a little way off. It was almost black and the light of the evening seen falling on it gave to its skin a high polish. It moved in a leisurely way with lordly dignity of power. It was unaware of you as you stood quietly watching; you were quite close to it; it must have measured well over five

футов в длину, раздувшаяся от проглоченной пищи. Змея переползла через холмик, а ты шёл за ней, глядя на неё сверху, на расстоянии от неё в несколько дюймов; её раздвоенный чёрный язык с быстротой высовывался и втягивался внутрь; она ползла, направляясь к большой норе. Ты мог к ней прикоснуться, потому что красота её обладала странной притягательной силой. Проходивший мимо крестьянин крикнул, чтобы ты отошёл от змеи, так как это была кобра. На следующий день крестьяне поставили на этом холмике блюдце с молоком и несколько цветков гибискуса. На этой же дороге, несколько дальше, стоял высокий куст почти без листьев, с шипами в два дюйма длиной, острыми, сероватыми, и ни одно животное не рискнуло бы прикоснуться к его сочным листьям. Растение защищало себя, и горе тому, кто отважился бы к нему прикоснуться. В этом лесу жили олени, робкие, но очень любопытные; они позволяли подойти к ним, но не слишком близко, иначе они бросались прочь и исчезали в подлеске. Один олень подпускал тебя совсем близко, если ты был один; он смотрел на тебя блестящими глазами, насторожив свои большие уши. У всех оленей были белые пятна на рыжевато коричневой шкуре; они были робки, ласковы, постоянно настороженны, и было очень приятно находиться среди них. Один олень по прихоти природы был совершенно белый.

Добро — не противоположность зла. Зло к нему никогда не может прикоснуться, хотя и окружает его. Зло не может повредить добру, но иногда может казаться, что добро причиняет вред, и от этого зло становится ещё более хитрым, ещё более злым. Зло может быть культивированным, широко распространённым и яростным; оно рождается внутри движения времени, выращивается и ловко используется. Но доброта не от времени; она никоим образом не может быть культивирована или вскормлена мыслью; её проявление незримо; она не имеет

feet and it was bulging with what it had eaten. It went over a mound and you walked towards it, looking down upon it a few inches away, its forked black tongue darting in and out; it was moving towards a large hole. You could have touched it for it had a strange attractive beauty. A villager was passing by and called out to leave it alone because it was a cobra. The next day the villagers had put there on the mound a saucer of milk and some hibiscus flowers. On that same road further along there was a bush, high and almost leafless, that had thorns almost two inches long, sharp, greyish, and no animal would dare to touch its succulent leaves. It was protecting itself and woe to anyone that touched it. There were deer there in those woods, shy but very curious; they would allow themselves to be approached but not too close and if you did they would dart away and disappear among the undergrowth. There was one that would let you come quite close, if you were alone, bright-eyed with its large ears forward. They all had white spots on a russet-brown skin; they were shy, gentle and ever-watchful and it was pleasant to be among them. There was a completely white one, which must have been a freak.