The thirtyseventh morning.
Cool air.
Soft wind.

The young man was sweeping the courtyard.

As the broom touched the ground,
he felt as if the movement was happening by itself—
without anyone doing it.

Not “I am sweeping.”
Not “I am trying.”
Only sweeping.

The teacher stepped out and asked:

“What are you seeing this morning?”

The young man leaned the broom against the wall.

“I sweep, but I don’t feel a ‘me’ sweeping.

The action happens on its own.

My mind doesn’t cling to the task,
nor to the one doing it.”

The teacher smiled.

“Good.

Today you’ve touched the spirit of nondwelling mind.”

He picked up a fallen leaf.

“Nondwelling means the mind does not rest anywhere.

Not in the body.
Not in the mind.
Not in emotions.
Not in thoughts.
Not in actions.
Not in the doer.”

He let the leaf fall.

“When the mind does not dwell,
everything happens naturally—
like a leaf falling.

No controller.
No owner.
No clinging.”

The young man felt a great door opening inside him.

He asked:

“So nondwelling means not clinging to anything?”

The teacher nodded.

“When the mind clings to a thought → it is bound.
Clings to an emotion → it is pulled.
Clings to an image of self → it is limited.
Clings to a goal → it becomes tense.

But when the mind does not dwell,
it is free like the sky.”

He looked deeply into the young man’s eyes:

“Nondwelling does not mean ‘not thinking.’

It means:

thinking without clinging,
feeling without sticking,
acting without owning,
seeing without creating a seer.”

The young man closed his eyes.

Thoughts arose like clouds—
but he did not chase them,
push them away,
or hold them.

They came.
They went.

The mind dwelled nowhere.

Inside him, Jiddu Krishnamurti’s words blew like a cool breeze:

“When the mind clings to nothing, it is completely free.”

The teacher stood up.

“Come.

Today, as you walk, feel this:

the mind does not dwell on the step,
nor on the walker,
nor on the path.

Only life moving.”

The young man followed him.

His first step touched the earth—
and he felt as if he were walking in a space with no support,
yet completely steady.

This morning, the mind clung to nothing.
And in that nonclinging,
a freedom light as wind appeared.