The thirtysixth morning.
The forest was covered in a thin mist like the breath of the earth.

The young man sat by the stream, where the first sunlight shimmered on the water.

He watched the flowing water—
but not with the same gaze as before.

Something was different.

He no longer felt “I am watching the stream.”

It was as if observation was happening…
but without an observer.

The teacher approached and asked:

“What are you seeing this morning?”

The young man replied softly:

“I look at the stream, but I no longer see a ‘me’ looking.

There is only… seeing.”

The teacher smiled—
the smile of someone who knows the student has touched a deep point of meditation.

“Good.

Today you’ve touched what Jiddu Krishnamurti calls:

‘The observer is the observed.’”

He sat beside him and pointed at the water.

“You think there are two things:

you,
and the stream.

But when the mind truly becomes still,
the boundary between ‘the one who sees’ and ‘the thing seen’ dissolves.”

He dropped a pebble into the water.
Ripples spread, then merged into the flow.

“When you look without an observer,
only the flow of life remains.”

The young man watched the water—
and felt as if the stream were flowing inside him.

Not metaphorically.
Not imaginatively.
But as a direct experience.

The teacher continued:

“When there is an observer,
the mind splits:

one side is ‘me,’
the other is ‘the world.’

When the observer dissolves,
only one living stream remains.”

The young man closed his eyes.

Thoughts arose like small clouds—
but this time, he did not feel “I am thinking.”

There were only thoughts appearing.

No thinker.
No observer.
Only the movement of mind.

Inside him, Jiddu Krishnamurti’s words rang like a clear bell:

“When the observer ends, only freedom remains.”

The teacher stood up.

“Come.

Today, as you walk, feel this:

no walker—only walking.
No breather—only breath.
No seer—only seeing.”

The young man followed him.

His first step touched the earth—
and he felt as if the step was happening on its own
within an infinite space.

This morning, the observer dissolved into the observed.
And the world became transparent—
like a mirror with no one standing before it.