I think that in that very process of accumulation, which we call learning, lies our misfortune. When it is burdened with knowledge, with learning, mind is crippled - not that we must not read. But wisdom is not to be bought; it must be experienced in action.
(...) Why do you think that you must analyze yourself? Because you have not lived fully in experiences, and that experience has created a disturbance in you; therefore you say to yourself, 'The next time I meet it I must be prepared, so let me look at that incident which is past, and I shall learn from it; then I shall meet the next experience fully, and it will not then trouble me.' So you begin to analyze, which is an intellectual process, and therefore not wholly true; as you have not understood it completely, you say, 'I have learned something from that past experience; now, with that little knowledge, let me meet the next experience from which I shall learn a little more.' Thus, you never live completely in the experience itself; this intellectual process of learning, accumulating, is always going on.
This is what you do every day, only unconsciously. You have not the desire to meet life harmoniously, completely; rather, you think that you will learn to meet it harmoniously through analysis; that is, by adding little by little to the granary in the mind, you hope to become full, and to be able to meet life fully, wholly. But your mind will never become free through this process; full it may become - but never free, open, simple. And what prevents your being simple, open, is this constant process of analyzing an incident of the past, which must of necessity be incomplete. There can be complete understanding only in the very movement of experience itself. When you are in a great crisis, when there must be action, then you do not analyze, you do not calculate; you put all that aside, for in that moment your mind and heart are in creative harmony, and there is true action.
September 12, 1933