" This morning there wasn’t a cloud in the sky; the sun was in the valley and all things were rejoicing, except man. He looked at this wondrous earth and went on with his labor, his sorrow and passing pleasures. He had no time to see; he was too occupied with his problems, with his agonies, with his violence. He doesn’t see the tree and so he cannot see his own travail. When he’s forced to look, he tears to pieces what he sees, which he calls analysis, runs away from it or doesn’t want to see. In the art of seeing lies the miracle of transformation, the transformation of what is. The “what should be” never is. There’s vast mystery in the act of seeing. This needs care, attention, which is love. "

― J. Krishnamurti , Total Freedom: The Essential Krishnamurti