The Flight Of The Eagle

1. True Freedom is Inward, Beyond Conditioning.

Unless the human mind is inwardly, psychologically, totally free it is not possible to see what is true, to see if there is a reality not invented by fear, not shaped by the society or the culture in which we live, and which is not an escape from the daily monotony, with its boredom, loneliness, despair and anxiety.

Beyond outward liberty. For most, freedom is an external concept: the ability to travel, express oneself, or accumulate possessions. However, true freedom is an internal state, a complete liberation of the mind from its deep-seated conditioning. This conditioning stems from various sources:

• Cultural and societal norms
• Economic and climatic factors
• Educational systems
• Religious conformity
• Stresses of relationships

Challenging mental frontiers. The human mind, heavily conditioned, often invents future liberations or "other worlds" when it perceives no freedom in its current state. To genuinely inquire into freedom, one must set aside all theoretical and ideological concepts. The core question becomes: can our minds ever be truly free from dependence, fear, anxiety, and the myriad conscious and unconscious problems that plague us?

Awareness without introspection. Achieving this psychological freedom requires an awareness of one's own conditioning, problems, and the shallow monotony of daily life, especially fear. This awareness is not introspective or analytical, but a direct, unadulterated perception of oneself as one is. Such observation, free from patterns or concepts, brings its own discipline and learning, leading to a profound and beautiful liberation.

2. Thought Creates Both Fear and Pleasure, Perpetuating Conflict.

Thought is responsible for fear; also, thought is responsible for pleasure.

The dual nature of thought. Fear, particularly psychological fear, arises primarily through the structure of thought. Thinking about past pain, or anticipating future pain, breeds anxiety. Similarly, thought is responsible for pleasure; recalling a happy experience and desiring its perpetuation creates a craving that, when thwarted, leads to resistance, anger, despair, and fear. This reveals a fundamental link: pleasure and pain are indivisible, both perpetuated by thought.

The cycle of desire and aversion. If there were no "tomorrow" or "next moment" for thought to project onto, neither fear nor pleasure, as we commonly experience them, would exist. The mind's constant engagement with past experiences and future expectations fuels this cycle. For instance, sexual enjoyment, when replayed through imagery in thought, intensifies the desire for repetition, and any obstruction to this desire manifests as pain, anxiety, or jealousy.

Beyond the thought-generated. This understanding leads to a crucial inquiry: can thought come to an end? This doesn't imply an end to the perception or enjoyment of beauty, but rather an end to thought's interference in carrying that delight into the future, thereby inviting disappointment. True bliss or ecstasy, the text suggests, is not a product of thought but emerges when the nature of thought, which generates both pleasure and fear, is fully comprehended.

3. Fragmentation and Duality are the Roots of Suffering.

Why do we divide life into fragments, the business life, social life, family life, religious life, the life of sport and so on?

The divided self. Humanity habitually fragments life into distinct compartments: business, social, family, religious, and individual. This internal division extends outwardly into nationalities, religions, and classes, creating "we" versus "they," "you" versus "me," and the perpetual conflict between "love" and "hate," "living" and "dying." This fragmentation breeds turmoil, conflict, and insecurity, both externally and internally.

The illusion of integration. The idea of "integrating" these fragments to achieve wholeness is inherently flawed. It implies an "integrator" separate from the fragments, yet this very entity is itself a product of fragmentation. True intelligence lies not in attempting to piece together a broken self, but in a radical revolution that eliminates contradictory actions, allowing for a continuous, unified flow of life.

Duality's destructive nature. The psychological division of time (past, present, future), the separation of the "observer" from the "observed," and the self-centered activity of the ego all contribute to this pervasive duality. This constant internal conflict, whether between "what is" and "what should be," or opposing desires, wastes immense energy and prevents genuine change. Ending this division is crucial for a life free from regret, despair, and fear.

4. Radical Change Requires Instantaneous, Undistorted Observation.

To look, to observe “what is” with a memory, means that memory dictates or shapes or directs your observation, and therefore it is already distorted.

Beyond gradual transformation. Man has not changed deeply over millennia, despite attempts at gradual self-improvement or external revolutions. True, radical change—a mutation or transformation at the root of one's being—cannot be a slow, evolutionary process. The traditional belief in gradual progress, like achieving wisdom over time or through reincarnation, only perpetuates the cycle of "what is" versus "what should be," creating conflict and delaying genuine transformation.

The immediacy of perception. Just as one reacts instantly to physical danger, radical psychological change must occur without a time interval between perception and action. Allowing time to intervene, or seeking to "become" something else, is a form of resistance and perpetuates the very problem one seeks to resolve. The challenge is to observe a distortion, a striving, or violence so completely that the very observation itself is the action that ends it, instantly.

Undistorted seeing. This instantaneous change is possible only through undistorted observation. This means looking at oneself—at greed, envy, anxiety, fear, hypocrisy—without any desire to evaluate, judge, achieve, or get rid of it. Any such desire or pre-existing conclusion (like nationalism, ambition for enlightenment, or fear) acts as a filter, preventing clear perception. The instrument of observation, the mind itself, must be clean, free from all conditioning and prejudice, to truly see "what is."

5. Authentic Learning is Present-Moment Awareness, Not Accumulation.

Learning is always in the active present, it is not the result of having accumulated knowledge; learning is a process, an action, which is always in the present.

The illusion of accumulated knowledge. Most people equate learning with accumulating knowledge, information, and experience, then acting from that accumulated past. However, this approach means that action is always determined by the past, preventing anything truly new from emerging. True learning is a continuous, active process that happens in the present moment, without the burden of prior accumulation.

Freshness in observation. To genuinely learn about something, like fear, one must approach it with a fresh mind, free from past knowledge, memories, and associations. If one confronts fear with pre-existing ideas about it, one never truly meets it face-to-face. This "newness" in observation is difficult because the mind is habitually conditioned to filter all experiences through the lens of the past.

Discipline as learning. The word "discipline" is often misunderstood as conformity, suppression, or following a pattern. However, its root meaning is "to learn." This implies a discipline that is not imposed but arises naturally from the act of learning itself. Such learning, free from resentment, prejudice, or stored memories, allows for clear, undistorted observation, leading to an extraordinary change in "what is."

6. Meditation is the Silent Mind, Free from Method and Authority.

Any system, any method, that teaches you how to meditate is obviously false.

Beyond systems and gurus. The traditional approaches to meditation, often involving methods, systems, or gurus from various Eastern or Western traditions, are fundamentally flawed. These methods imply conformity, repetition, and a mechanical striving to achieve a predetermined state. A mind that practices such methods becomes dull, insensitive, and merely reinforces its existing conditioning, leading to "experiences" that are confined within its own limitations.

The futility of control. The idea of controlling thought, a common tenet in traditional meditation, is also misguided. The "controller" or "thinker" is not separate from the thought itself; they are an inseparable unity. When the thinker realizes this, the conflict of control ceases. The mind, no longer battling itself, becomes quiet not through force or suppression, but through the profound understanding that the "thinker" is the thought.

The quality of silence. True meditation is the mind becoming completely quiet, not just superficially but at its deepest, hidden levels. This silence is not a dull, stagnant state, but one of intense activity, sensitivity, and alertness, without a self-centered "observer." It is a state of vast, borderless space. This profound quietness, free from all methods, systems, and the incessant chatter of thought, is the fertile ground where reality, the immeasurable, the nameless, can be received.

7. Love Emerges from Dying to the Known, Free from Fear and Pleasure.

Love is not memory, love is not pleasure.

Love beyond conventional definitions. The word "love" is heavily burdened by societal and personal interpretations, often conflated with pleasure, jealousy, possessiveness, dependence, or domination. These are not love. Love is not a commodity to be cultivated or a feeling to be identified with sexual pleasure. It is distinct from the moral values based on pleasure, self-sacrifice, or conformity.

The impossibility of love with ambition. Can one truly love while being ambitious, competitive, or driven by success? The text suggests that these contradictory states cannot coexist with love. A person who is jealous or dominating, despite claiming to love, does not understand its true meaning. The constant pursuit of self-centered desires, even in relationships, prevents the emergence of genuine affection.

Dying to the past. Love is only possible when there is a "dying" to everything that is not love—to all ideals, attachments, fears, anxieties, vanity, and pride. This psychological death to the past, to all accumulated memories and experiences, allows the mind to become fresh, innocent, and vital. When this occurs, love is not a word or a fleeting emotion, but a state of being that is virtue itself, encompassing all ethics and allowing for the perception of an immeasurable reality.

8. Energy is Wasted in Conflict; Wholeness Brings Abundance.

As long as there is duality between what is and what should be—man trying to become something else, making an effort to achieve what “should be”—that conflict is waste of energy.

The paradox of human energy. Humanity possesses immense energy for destructive activities: quarreling, killing, dividing the world, or achieving technological marvels like going to the moon. Yet, this same energy seems absent when it comes to radically changing oneself. The core reason for this apparent lack of transformative energy is its dissipation in internal and external conflict.

Duality as energy drain. The constant struggle between "what is" (e.g., violence) and "what should be" (e.g., nonviolence) is the essence of energy wastage. When one attempts to become something other than what one is, or to conform to an ideal, this creates an internal duality that fuels conflict. This conflict, whether between opposing desires, beliefs, or the "me" and the "not me," drains vital energy.

The power of non-duality. To access abundant energy for radical change, one must cease this conflict. This means putting aside all ideals and dealing solely with the fact of "what is." For example, instead of striving to be nonviolent, one observes violence directly without the opposing ideal. When the mind is not escaping or resisting, but fully confronting the fact, all its energy is available to understand and resolve it, leading to a state of wholeness and profound clarity.

9. The "Observer" is the "Observed": Ending Inner Division.

The watcher is the watched —if something totally new comes along then there is no watcher at all.

The illusion of separation. In moments of fear or any psychological conflict, there often appears to be a "watcher" (the "me") separate from the "watched" (the fear, the anger, the jealousy). This "watcher" attempts to control, suppress, or escape the observed emotion, creating an internal division and perpetuating conflict. This duality is a deeply ingrained habit and tradition of the mind.

Unveiling the unity. However, upon deeper examination, one discovers that the "watcher" and the "watched" are not distinct entities; they are essentially the same. The "me" that seeks to overcome fear is itself a product of thought and conditioning, and thus, part of the very fear it observes. This realization eliminates the contradiction, the "me" versus "not me," and with it, all forms of effort and struggle to overcome.

Beyond analysis and control. When the mind grasps that the observer is the observed, the need for analysis, control, or suppression ceases. Analysis, by its nature, involves time and a fragmented approach, which ultimately fails to end fear. Instead, when the mind realizes its inability to act upon fear because it creates fear, a profound silence emerges. This complete negation of the movement that breeds fear allows the mind to observe the phenomenon of habit and contradiction without division, leading to the ending of fear and sorrow.

10. Penetrating the Unknown Demands a Mind Free of All Burdens.

To penetrate into its depth one must naturally realize that it is not enough to merely understand at the verbal level—for the description is never the described, the word is never the thing.

The human quest for the transcendental. Throughout history, humanity, confronted with the brevity and suffering of life, has sought to experience something beyond the mundane—a reality, a God, an immeasurable dimension. This quest often involves seeking, searching, and preparing through discipline, resistance, and conformity to established patterns or authorities. However, such striving, rooted in escape from "what is," is ultimately futile and illusory.

Discarding all beliefs and traditions. To truly penetrate the unknown, one must discard all theological beliefs, spiritual traditions, and external authorities. Any method or system, whether ancient or modern, that promises access to reality through practice or conformity, is inherently false. Such approaches mechanize the mind, making it dull and incapable of perceiving anything genuinely new or immeasurable.

The unburdened mind. The mind must be free from the weight of the past—racial inheritance, cultural conditioning, personal memories, and the constant chatter of thought. This freedom is not achieved through effort or suppression, but through intense, choiceless observation of one's entire being. When the mind, including the brain, becomes completely quiet, without distortion or the burden of the known, it is then capable of receiving that which is timeless, nameless, and immeasurable. This state of profound stillness and clarity is the true gateway to the transcendental.

Last updated: November 30, 2025