A man had listened to J. Krishnamurti for at least twenty years. He was an intellectual, a philosophical man, and by and by he got fed up with the constant repetition of the importance of awareness and the way Krishnamurti goes round and round, and hints at the same thing - because there is nothing else to hint at.
One day he stood up and said, “Stop! It is just as they used to say about philosophy – that philosophy is like searching on a dark night without any lamp or light, in a dark room for a black cat which is not there.”
Krishnamurti hit him on the head with his fist and said, “But Sir, it is there!”
“The black cat exists; if you search long enough you will find it. The very search ultimately becomes the light. Searching creates light – there is no other light; the search alone makes you aflame.”
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