I am
reminded of the fateful day of twenty-first March, 1953. For many lives I had
been working - working upon myself, struggling, doing whatsoever can be done -
and nothing was happening.
Now I understand why nothing was happening. The very effort was the barrier, the
very ladder was preventing, the very urge to seek was the obstacle. Not that one
can reach without seeking. Seeking is needed, but then comes a point when
seeking has to be dropped. The boat is needed to cross the river but then comes
a moment when you have to get out of the boat and forget all about it and leave
it behind. Effort is needed, without effort nothing is possible. And also only
with effort, nothing is possible.
Just before twenty-first March, 1953, seven days before, I stopped working on
myself. A moment comes when you see the whole futility of effort. You have done
all that you can do and nothing is happening. You have done all that is humanly
possible. Then what else can you do? In sheer helplessness one drops all search.
And the day the search stopped, the day I was not seeking for something, the day
I was not expecting something to happen, it started happening. A new energy
arose - out of nowhere. It was not coming from any source. It was coming from
nowhere and everywhere. It was in the trees and in the rocks and the sky and the
sun and the air - it was everywhere. And I was seeking so hard, and I was
thinking it is very far away. And it was so near and so close.
Just because I was seeking I had become incapable of seeing the near. Seeking is
always for the far, seeking is always for the distant - and it was not distant.
I had become far-sighted, I had lost the near-sightedness. The eyes had become
focussed on the far away, the horizon, and they had lost the quality to see that
which is just close, surrounding you.
The day effort ceased, I also ceased. Because you cannot exist without effort,
and you cannot exist without desire, and you cannot exist without striving.
The phenomenon of the ego, of the self, is not a thing, it is a process. It is
not a substance sitting there inside you; you have to create it each moment. It
is like pedalling bicycle. If you pedal it goes on and on, if you don't pedal it
stops. It may go a little because of the past momentum, but the moment you stop
pedalling, in fact the bicycle starts stopping. It has no more energy, no more
power to go anywhere. It is going to fall and collapse.
The ego exists because we go on pedalling desire, because we go on striving to
get something, because we go on jumping ahead of ourselves. That is the very
phenomenon of the ego - the jump ahead of yourself, the jump in the future, the
jump in the tomorrow. The jump in the non-existential creates the ego. Because
it comes out of the non-existential it is like a mirage. It consists only of
desire and nothing else. It consists only of thirst and nothing else.
The ego is not in the present, it is in the future. If you are in the future,
then ego seems to be very substantial. If you are in the present the ego is a
mirage, it starts disappearing.
The day I stopped seeking... and it is not right to say that I stopped seeking,
better will be to say the day seeking stopped. Let me repeat it: the better way
to say it is the day the seeking stopped. Because if I stop it then I am there
again. Now stopping becomes my effort, now stopping becomes my desire, and
desire goes on existing in a very subtle way.
You cannot stop desire; you can only understand it. In the very understanding is
the stopping of it. Remember, nobody can stop desiring, and the reality happens
only when desire stops.
So this is the dilemma. What to do? Desire is there and Buddhas go on saying
desire has to be stopped, and they go on saying in the next breath that you
cannot stop desire. So what to do? You put people in a dilemma. They are in
desire, certainly. You say it has to be stopped - okay. And then you say it
cannot be stopped. Then what is to be done?
The desire has to be understood. You can understand it, you can just see the
futility of it. A direct perception is needed, an immediate penetration is
needed. Look into desire, just see what it is, and you will see the falsity of
it, and you will see it is non-existential. And desire drops and something drops
simultaneously within you.
Desire and the ego exist in cooperation, they coordinate. The ego cannot exist
without desire, the desire cannot exist without the ego. Desire is projected
ego, ego is introjected desire. They are together, two aspects of one
phenomenon.
The day desiring stopped, I felt very hopeless and helpless. No hope because no
future. Nothing to hope because all hoping has proved futile, it leads nowhere.
You go in rounds. It goes on dangling in front of you, it goes on creating new
mirages, it goes on calling you, 'Come on, run fast, you will reach.' But
howsoever fast you run you never reach.
That's why Buddha calls it a mirage. It is like the horizon that you see around
the earth. It appears but it is not there. If you go it goes on running from
you. The faster you run, the faster it moves away. The slower you go, the slower
it moves away. But one thing is certain - the distance between you and the
horizon remains absolutely the same. Not even a single inch can you reduce the
distance between you and the horizon.
You cannot reduce the distance between you and your hope. Hope is horizon. You
try to bridge yourself with the horizon, with the hope, with a projected desire.
The desire is a bridge, a dream bridge - because the horizon exists not, so you
cannot make a bridge towards it, you can only dream about the bridge. You cannot
be joined with the non-existential.
The day the desire stopped, the day I looked and realized into it, it simply was
futile. I was helpless and hopeless. But that very moment something started
happening. The same started happening for which for many lives I was working and
it was not happening.
In your hopelessness is the only hope, and in your desirelessness is your only
fulfillment, and in your tremendous helplessness suddenly the whole existence
starts helping you.
It is waiting. When it sees that you are working on your own, it does not
interfere. It waits. It can wait infinitely because there is no hurry for it. It
is eternity. The moment you are not on your own, the moment you drop, the moment
you disappear, the whole existence rushes towards you, enters you. And for the
first time things start happening.
Seven days I lived in a very hopeless and helpless state, but at the same time
something was arising. When I say hopeless I don't mean what you mean by the
word hopeless. I simply mean there was no hope in me. Hope was absent. I am not
saying that I was hopeless and sad. I was happy in fact, I was very tranquil,
calm and collected and centered. Hopeless, but in a totally new meaning. There
was no hope, so how could there be hopelessness. Both had disappeared.
The hopelessness was absolute and total. Hope had disappeared and with it its
counterpart, hopelessness, had also disappeared. It was a totally new experience
- of being without hope. It was not a negative state. I have to use words - but
it was not a negative state. It was absolutely positive. It was not just
absence, a presence was felt. Something was overflowing in me, overflooding me.
And when I say I was helpless, I don't mean the word in the dictionary-sense. I
simply say I was selfless. That's what I mean when I say helpless. I have
recognized the fact that I am not, so I cannot depend on myself, so I cannot
stand on my own ground - there was no ground underneath. I was in an abyss...
bottomless abyss. But there was no fear because there was nothing to protect.
There was no fear because there was nobody to be afraid.
Those seven days were of tremendous transformation, total transformation. And
the last day the presence of a totally new energy, a new light and new delight,
became so intense that it was almost unbearable - as if I was exploding, as if I
was going mad with blissfulness. The new generation in the West has the right
word for it - I was blissed out, stoned.
It was impossible to make any sense out of it, what was happening. It was a very
non-sense world - difficult to figure it out, difficult to manage in categories,
difficult to use words, languages, explanations. All scriptures appeared dead
and all the words that have been used for this experience looked very pale,
anaemic. This was so alive. It was like a tidal wave of bliss.
The whole day was strange, stunning, and it was a shattering experience. The
past was disappearing, as if it had never belonged to me, as if I had read about
it somewhere, as if I had dreamed about it, as if it was somebody else's story I
have heard and somebody told it to me. I was becoming loose from my past, I was
being uprooted from my history, I was losing my autobiography. I was becoming a
non-being, what Buddha calls anatta. Boundaries were disappearing, distinctions
were disappearing.
Mind was disappearing; it was millions of miles away. It was difficult to catch
hold of it, it was rushing farther and farther away, and there was no urge to
keep it close. I was simply indifferent about it all. It was okay. There was no
urge to remain continuous with the past.
By the evening it became so difficult to bear it - it was hurting, it was
painful. It was like when a woman goes into labour when a child is to be born,
and the woman suffers tremendous pain - the birth pangs.
I used to go to sleep in those days near about twelve or one in the night, but
that day it was impossible to remain awake. My eyes were closing, it was
difficult to keep them open. Something was very imminent, something was going to
happen. It was difficult to say what it was - maybe it is going to be my death -
but there was no fear. I was ready for it. Those seven days had been so
beautiful that I was ready to die, nothing more was needed. They had been so
tremendously blissful, I was so contented, that if death was coming, it was
welcome.
But something was going to happen - something like death, something very
drastic, something which will be either a death or a new birth, a crucifixion or
a resurrection - but something of tremendous import was around just by the
corner. And it was impossible to keep my eyes open. I was drugged.
I went to sleep near about eight. It was not like sleep. Now I can understand
what Patanjali means when he says that sleep and samadhi are similar. Only with
one difference - that in samadhi you are fully awake and asleep also. Asleep and
awake together, the whole body relaxed, every cell of the body totally relaxed,
all functioning relaxed, and yet a light of awareness burns within you... clear,
smokeless. You remain alert and yet relaxed, loose but fully awake. The body is
in the deepest sleep possible and your consciousness is at its peak. The peak of
consciousness and the valley of the body meet.
I went to sleep. It was a very strange sleep. The body was asleep, I was awake.
It was so strange - as if one was torn apart into two directions, two
dimensions; as if the polarity has become completely focused, as if I was both
the polarities together... the positive and negative were meeting, sleep and
awareness were meeting, death and life were meeting. That is the moment when you
can say 'the creator and the creation meet.'
It was weird. For the first time it shocks you to the very roots, it shakes your
foundations. You can never be the same after that experience; it brings a new
vision to your life, a new quality.
Near about twelve my eyes suddenly opened - I had not opened them. The sleep was
broken by something else. I felt a great presence around me in the room. It was
a very small room. I felt a throbbing life all around me, a great vibration -
almost like a hurricane, a great storm of light, joy, ecstasy. I was drowning in
it.
It was so tremendously real that everything became unreal. The walls of the room
became unreal, the house became unreal, my own body became unreal. Everything
was unreal because now there was for the first time reality.
That's why when Buddha and Shankara say the world is maya, a mirage, it is
difficult for us to understand. Because we know only this world, we don't have
any comparison. This is the only reality we know. What are these people talking
about - this is maya, illusion? This is the only reality. Unless you come to
know the really real, their words cannot be understood, their words remain
theoretical. They look like hypotheses. Maybe this man is propounding a
philosophy - 'The world is unreal'.
When Berkley in the West said that the world is unreal, he was walking with one
of his friends, a very logical man; the friend was almost a skeptic. He took a
stone from the road and hit Berkley's feet hard. Berkley screamed, blood rushed
out, and the skeptic said, 'Now, the world is unreal? You say the world is
unreal? - then why did you scream? This stone is unreal? - then why did you
scream? Then why are you holding your leg and why are you showing so much pain
and anguish on your face. Stop this? It is all unreal.
Now this type of man cannot understand what Buddha means when he says the world
is a mirage. He does not mean that you can pass through the wall. He is not
saying this - that you can eat stones and it will make no difference whether you
eat bread or stones. He is not saying that.
He is saying that there is a reality. Once you come to know it, this so-called
reality simply pales out, simply becomes unreal. With a higher reality in vision
the comparison arises, not otherwise.
In the dream; the dream is real. You dream every night. Dream is one of the
greatest activities that you go on doing. If you live sixty years, twenty years
you will sleep and almost ten years you will dream. Ten years in a life -
nothing else do you do so much. Ten years of continuous dreaming - just think
about it. And every night.... And every morning you say it was unreal, and again
in the night when you dream, dream becomes real.
In a dream it is so difficult to remember that this is a dream. But in the
morning it is so easy. What happens? You are the same person. In the dream there
is only one reality. How to compare? How to say it is unreal? Compared to what?
It is the only reality. Everything is as unreal as everything else so there is
no comparison. In the morning when you open your eyes another reality is there.
Now you can say it was all unreal. Compared to this reality, dream becomes
unreal.
There is an awakening - compared to THAT reality of THAT awakening, this whole
reality becomes unreal.
That night for the first time I understood the meaning of the word maya. Not
that I had not known the word before, not that I was not aware of the meaning of
the word. As you are aware, I was also aware of the meaning - but I had never
understood it before. How can you understand without experience?
That night another reality opened its door, another dimension became available.
Suddenly it was there, the other reality, the separate reality, the really real,
or whatsoever you want to call it - call it god, call it truth, call it dhamma,
call it tao, or whatsoever you will. It was nameless. But it was there - so
opaque, so transparent, and yet so solid one could have touched it. It was
almost suffocating me in that room. It was too much and I was not yet capable of
absorbing it.
A deep urge arose in me to rush out of the room, to go under the sky - it was
suffocating me. It was too much! It will kill me! If I had remained a few
moments more, it would have suffocated me - it looked like that.
I rushed out of the room, came out in the street. A great urge was there just to
be under the sky with the stars, with the trees, with the earth... to be with
nature. And immediately as I came out, the feeling of being suffocated
disappeared. It was too small a place for such a big phenomenon. Even the sky is
a small place for that big phenomenon. It is bigger than the sky. Even the sky
is not the limit for it. But then I felt more at ease.
I walked towards the nearest garden. It was a totally new walk, as if
gravitation had disappeared. I was walking, or I was running, or I was simply
flying; it was difficult to decide. There was no gravitation, I was feeling
weightless - as if some energy was taking me. I was in the hands of some other
energy.
For the first time I was not alone, for the first time I was no more an
individual, for the first time the drop has come and fallen into the ocean. Now
the whole ocean was mine, I was the ocean. There was no limitation. A tremendous
power arose as if I could do anything whatsoever. I was not there, only the
power was there.
I reached to the garden where I used to go every day. The garden was closed,
closed for the night. It was too late, it was almost one o'clock in the night.
The gardeners were fast asleep. I had to enter the garden like a thief, I had to
climb the gate. But something was pulling me towards the garden. It was not
within my capacity to prevent myself. I was just floating.
That's what I mean when I say again and again 'float with the river, don't push
the river'. I was relaxed, I was in a let-go. I was not there. IT was there,
call it god - god was there.
I would like to call it IT, because god is too human a word, and has become too
dirty by too much use, has become too polluted by so many people. Christians,
Hindus, Mohammedans, priests and politicians - they all have corrupted the
beauty of the word. So let me call it IT. IT was there and I was just carried
away... carried by a tidal wave.
The moment I entered the garden everything became luminous, it was all over the
place - the benediction, the blessedness. I could see the trees for the first
time - their green, their life, their very sap running. The whole garden was
asleep, the trees were asleep. But I could see the whole garden alive, even the
small grass leaves were so beautiful.
I looked around. One tree was tremendously luminous - the maulshree tree. It
attracted me, it pulled me towards itself. I had not chosen it, god himself has
chosen it. I went to the tree, I sat under the tree. As I sat there things
started settling. The whole universe became a benediction.
It is difficult to say how long I was in that state. When I went back home it
was four o'clock in the morning, so I must have been there by clock time at
least three hours - but it was infinity. It had nothing to do with clock time.
It was timeless.
Those three hours became the whole eternity, endless eternity. There was no
time, there was no passage of time; it was the virgin reality - uncorrupted,
untouchable, unmeasurable.
And that day something happened that has continued - not as a continuity - but
it has still continued as an undercurrent. Not as a permanency - each moment it
has been happening again and again. It has been a miracle each moment.
That night... and since that night I have never been in the body. I am hovering
around it. I became tremendously powerful and at the same time very fragile. I
became very strong, but that strength is not the strength of a Mohammed Ali.
That strength is not the strength of a rock, that strength is the strength of a
rose flower - so fragile in his strength... so fragile, so sensitive, so
delicate.
The rock will be there, the flower can go any moment, but still the flower is
stronger than the rock because it is more alive. Or, the strength of a dewdrop
on a leaf of grass just shining; in the morning sun - so beautiful, so precious,
and yet can slip any moment. So incomparable in its grace, but a small breeze
can come and the dewdrop can slip and be lost forever.
Buddhas have a strength which is not of this world. Their strength is totally of
love... Like a rose flower or a dewdrop. Their strength is very fragile,
vulnerable. Their strength is the strength of life not of death. Their power is
not of that which kills; their power is of that which creates. Their power is
not of violence, aggression; their power is that of compassion.
But I have never been in the body again, I am just hovering around the body. And
that's why I say it has been a tremendous miracle. Each moment I am surprised I
am still here, I should not be. I should have left any moment, still I am here.
Every morning I open my eyes and I say, 'So, again I am still here?' Because it
seems almost impossible. The miracle has been a continuity.
Just the other day somebody asked a question - 'Osho, you are getting so fragile
and delicate and so sensitive to the smells of hair oils and shampoos that it
seems we will not be able to see you unless we all go bald.' By the way, nothing
is wrong with being bald - bald is beautiful. Just as 'black is beautiful', so
'bald is beautiful'. But that is true and you have to be careful about it.
I am fragile, delicate and sensitive. That is my strength. If you throw a rock
at a flower nothing will happen to the rock, the flower will be gone. But still
you cannot say that the rock is more powerful than the flower. The flower will
be gone because the flower was alive. And the rock - nothing will happen to it
because it is dead. The flower will be gone because the flower has no strength
to destroy. The flower will simply disappear and give way to the rock. The rock
has a power to destroy because the rock is dead.
Remember, since that day I have never been in the body really; just a delicate
thread joins me with the body. And I am continuously surprised that somehow the
whole must be willing me to be here, because I am no more here with my own
strength, I am no more here on my own. It must be the will of the whole to keep
me here, to allow me to linger a little more on this shore. Maybe the whole
wants to share something with you through me.
Since that day the world is unreal. Another world has been revealed. When I say
the world is unreal I don't mean that these trees are unreal. These trees are
absolutely real - but the way you see these trees is unreal. These trees are not
unreal in themselves - they exist in god, they exist in absolute reality - but
the way you see them you never see them; you are seeing something else, a
mirage.
You create your own dream around you and unless you become awake you will
continue to dream. The world is unreal because the world that you know is the
world of your dreams. When dreams drop and you simply encounter the world that
is there, then the real world.
There are not two things, god and the world. God is the world if you have eyes,
clear eyes, without any dreams, without any dust of the dreams, without any haze
of sleep; if you have clear eyes, clarity, perceptiveness, there is only god.
Then somewhere god is a green tree, and somewhere else god is a shining star,
and somewhere else god is a cuckoo, and somewhere else god is a flower, and
somewhere else a child and somewhere else a river - then only god is. The moment
you start seeing, only god is.
But right now whatsoever you see is not the truth, it is a projected lie. That
is the meaning of a mirage. And once you see, even for a single split moment, if
you can see, if you can allow yourself to see, you will find immense benediction
present all over, everywhere - in the clouds, in the sun, on the earth.
This is a beautiful world. But I am not talking about your world, I am talking
about my world. Your world is very ugly, your world is your world created by a
self, your world is a projected world. You are using the real world as a screen
and projecting your own ideas on it.
When I say the world is real, the world is tremendously beautiful, the world is
luminous with infinity, the world is light and delight, it is a celebration, I
mean my world - or your world if you drop your dreams.
When you drop your dreams you see the same world as any Buddha has ever seen.
When you dream you dream privately. Have you watched it? - that dreams are
private. You cannot share them even with your beloved. You cannot invite your
wife to your dream - or your husband, or your friend. You cannot say, 'Now,
please come tonight in my dream. I would like to see the dream together.' It is
not possible. Dream is a private thing, hence it is illusory, it has no
objective reality.
God is a universal thing. Once you come out of your private dreams, it is there.
It has been always there. Once your eyes are clear, a sudden illumination -
suddenly you are overflooded with beauty, grandeur and grace. That is the goal,
that is the destiny.
Let me repeat. Without effort you will never reach it, with effort nobody has
ever reached it. You will need great effort, and only then there comes a
moment.when effort becomes futile. But it becomes futile only when you have come
to the very peak of it, never before it. When you have come to the very pinnacle
of your effort - all that you can do you have done - then suddenly there is no
need to do anything any more. You drop the effort.
But nobody can drop it in the middle, it can be dropped only at the extreme end.
So go to the extreme end if you want to drop it. Hence I go on insisting: make
as much effort as you can, put your whole energy and total heart in it, so that
one day you can see - now effort is not going to lead me anywhere. And that day
it will not be you who will drop the effort, it drops on its own accord. And
when it drops on its own accord, meditation happens.
Meditation is not a result of your efforts, meditation is a happening. When your
efforts drop, suddenly meditation is there... the benediction of it, the
blessedness of it, the glory of it. It is there like a presence... luminous,
surrounding you and surrounding everything. It fills the whole earth and the
whole sky.
That meditation cannot be created by human effort. Human effort is too limited.
That blessedness is so infinite. You cannot manipulate it. It can happen only
when you are in a tremendous surrender. When you are not there only then it can
happen. When you are a no-self - no desire, not going anywhere - when you are
just herenow, not doing anything in particular, just being, it happens. And it
comes in waves and the waves become tidal. It comes like a storm, and takes you
away into a totally new reality.
But first you have to do all that you can do, and then you have to learn
non-doing. The doing of the non-doing is the greatest doing, and the effort of
effortlessness is the greatest effort.
Your meditation that you create by chanting a mantra or by sitting quiet and
still and forcing yourself, is a very mediocre meditation. It is created by you,
it cannot be bigger than you. It is homemade, and the maker is always bigger
than the made. You have made it by sitting, forcing in a yoga posture, chanting
'rama, rama, rama' or anything - 'blah, blah, blah' - anything. You have forced
the mind to become still.
It is a forced stillness. It is not that quiet that comes when you are not
there. It is not that silence which comes when you are almost non-existential.
It is not that beautitude which descends on you like a dove.
It is said when Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist in the Jordan River, god
descended in him, or the holy ghost descended in him like a dove. Yes, that is
exactly so. When you are not there peace descends in you... fluttering like a
dove... reaches in your heart and abides there and abides there forever.
You are your undoing, you are the barrier. Meditation is when the meditator is
not. When the mind ceases with all its activities - seeing that they are futile
- then the unknown penetrates you, overwhelms you.
The mind must cease for god to be. Knowledge must cease for knowing to be. You
must disappear, you must give way. You must become empty, then only you can be
full.
That night I became empty and became full. I became non-existential and became
existence. That night I died and was reborn. But the one that was reborn has
nothing to do with that which died, it is a discontinuous thing. On the surface
it looks continuous but it is discontinuous. The one who died, died totally;
nothing of him has remained.
Believe me, nothing of him has remained, not even a shadow. It died totally,
utterly. It is not that I am just a modified RUP, transformed, modified form,
transformed form of the old. No, there has been no continuity. That day of March
twenty-first, the person who had lived for many many lives, for millennia,
simply died. Another being, absolutely new, not connected at all with the old,
started to exist.
Religion just gives you a total death. Maybe that's why the whole day previous
to that happening I was feeling some urgency like death, as if I am going to die
- and I really died. I have known many other deaths but they were nothing
compared to it, they were partial deaths.
Sometimes the body died, sometimes a part of the mind died, sometimes a part of
the ego died, but as far as the person was concerned, it remained. Renovated
many times, decorated many times, changed a little bit here and there, but it
remained, the continuity remained.
That night the death was total. It was a date with death and god simultaneously.
Now this sutra:
Look. You don't look, you never look. Before you look you have an idea. You
never look in purity, you never look unprejudiced. You always carry some
prejudice, you always carry some opinion, ideology, scripture - your own
experience or others' experiences, but you always carry something in the mind.
You are never naked with reality.
And when Buddha says,
He means look with a naked eye, with no coatings of opinions, ideas,
experiences, borrowed or otherwise.
Have you seen a naked eye? As far as humanity is concerned it is very rare to
come across a naked eye. All eyes are so dressed up. Somebody has a christian
eye, somebody has a hindu eye, somebody has a mohammedan eye. They look
differently.
When a Mohammedan reads the Gita he never reads the same thing that a Hindu
reads in it. When a Jaina reads the Gita he reads something else again. A Hindu
can read the Bible but he will never read that which a Christian reads. The
Bible is the same. From where does this difference come? The difference must be
coming from the eye, the difference must be coming from the mind.
Have you ever read a single page of a book without bringing your mind in it,
without corrupting it by your mind, by your past? Without interpreting it, have
you ever looked at anything in life? If not then you have not looked at all,
then you don't have real eyes. You have just holes not eyes.
The eye has to be receptive, not aggressive. When you have a certain idea in the
eye, in your mind, it is aggressive. It immediately imposes itself on things.
When you have an empty eye, naked, undressed, not Christian, not Hindu, not
Communist, just pure look, innocent... primal innocence - innocent as an
animal's eye or a child, a newborn child. A just-born child looks around - he
has no idea of what is what. What is beautiful and what is ugly, he has no idea.
That primal innocence has to be. Only then you will be able to see what Buddha
says.
You have been looking in life but you have not come to see that all is
impermanence. Everything is dying, everything is decaying, everything is on a
death procession. People are standing in a death queue. Look around - everything
rushing towards death. Everything is fleeting, momentary, fluxlike; nothing
seems to be of eternal value, nothing seems to abide, nothing seems to hold,
nothing seems to remain. Everything just goes on and on and on, and goes on
changing. What else is a dream?
Buddha says this life, this world that you live in, that you are surrounded
with, that you have created around yourself, is but a dream - impermanent,
temporary. Don't make your abode there, otherwise you will suffer. Because
nobody can be contented with the temporary. By the time you think it is in your
hands it is gone. By the time you think you have possessed it, it is no more
there. You struggle for it - by the time you achieve it, it has disappeared.
The beauty is fleeting, love is fleeting, everything in this life is fleeting.
You are running to catch shadows. They look real; by the time you have arrived
they prove mirages.
It is one of the most fundamental principles of Gautam the Buddha - that one
should become aware of the impermanent world we are surrounded with. Then
immediately you will be able to understand why Buddha calls it a dream, a maya,
illusion.
In the East our definition of truth is that which abides forever, and of
untruth, that which is there this moment and next moment is not there.
Untruth is that which is temporary, momentary, impermanent. And truth is that
which is, always is, has been, will be. Behind these fleeting shadows find the
eternal, penetrate to the eternal, because there can be bliss only with the
eternal; misery only with the momentary.
That's why I was reminded of my own experience and I talked about it to you.
Wisdom cannot be found through scriptures; it is an experience. It is not
knowledge, wisdom is not knowledge. You cannot gather it from others, you cannot
borrow it. It is not information. You cannot learn it from the scriptures. There
is only one way to become wise and that is to enter into a live experience of
life.
Something is said by Buddha - you hear it; something I say - you hear it - but
you don't become wise by hearing it. It will become knowledge. You can repeat
it, you can repeat it even in a better way. You can become very skillful,
efficient, in repeating it. You can say it in a better language, but you don't
have the experience.
You have never tasted the wine yourself. You have simply seen some drunkard
moving, wobbling on the road, fallen in a gutter. You have simply watched a
drunkard, how he moves, how he stumbles, but you don't know what the experience
is. You will have to become a drunkard - there is no other way.
You can watch a thousand and one drunkards and you can collect all information
about them, but that will be from the outside and the experience is inner. That
will be from without, and you will collect it as a spectator. And the experience
cannot be attained by seeing, it can be attained only by being.
Now the modern world has become very obsessed by seeing; the modern world is the
spectator's world. People are sitting for hours in the movie houses, just
watching, doing nothing. In the West people are glued to their chairs for hours,
six hours, eight hours even, just sitting before their tv:s. You listen to
somebody singing and you see somebody dancing and you see somebody making love -
that's why people are so much interested in pornography - but you are a
spectator.
The modern man is the falsest man that has ever existed on the earth, and his
falsity consists in that he thinks he can know by just seeing, just by being a
spectator. People are sitting for hours seeing hockey matches, volley ball
matches, cricket matches - for hours. When are you going to play yourself? When
are you going to love somebody? When are you going to dance and sing and be?
This is a very borrowed life. Somebody dances for you; maybe you can enjoy it,
but how can you know the beauty of dance unless you dance? It is something
inner. What happens when a person is dancing? What happens to his innermost
core?
Nijinsky, one of the greatest dancers, used to say that there come moments when
he disappears, only the dance remains. Those are the peak moments - when the
dancer is not there and only the dance is. That's what Buddha is saying - when
the self is not there.
Now Nijinsky is moving into an ecstasy, and you are just sitting there watching
the movement. Of course those movements are beautiful. Nijinsky's movements have
a grace, a tremendous beauty, but it is nothing compared to what he is feeling
inside. His dance is a beauty, even when you are just a spectator, but nothing
compared to what is happening inside him.
He used to say that there are moments when gravitation disappears. I can
understand because I have come across the feeling myself when gravitation
disappears. And it was only for moments that gravitation disappeared for me. Now
I have lived for years without gravitation. I know what he means.
Even scientists were very much puzzled, because there were moments in Nijinsky's
dance when he would leap and jump - and those leaps were tremendous, almost
impossible leaps. A man cannot leap that way; the gravitation does not allow.
And the most beautiful and amazing part was that when Nijinsky would be coming
back from the leap he would come so slowly that it is impossible. He would come
so slowly as if a leaf is falling from a tree... very slowly, very slowly, very
slowly.
It is not possible, it is against the physical law, it is against physics. The
gravitation does not make any exceptions, not even for a Nijinsky. And he was
asked again and again, 'What happens? How do you fall so slowly? Because it is
not within your power to control - the gravitation pulls you.' He said, 'It does
not happen always, only rarely - when the dancer disappears. Then sometimes I am
also puzzled, surprised, not only you. I see myself coming so slowly, so
gracefully, and I know that the gravitation does not exist in that moment.'
He must be functioning in another dimension where the physical law does not
exist, where another law starts working that spiritualists call the law of
levitation.
And it seems absolutely rational and logical to have both the laws, because each
law has to be counterbalanced by another law in the opposite direction. If there
is light there is darkness, if there is life there is death, if there is
gravitation there must be levitation that pulls you up. There must be ways where
a person is pulled up.
There are stories... especially the story about Mohammed - that he went to
heaven with his physical body; not only with his physical body, with his horse.
Sitting on the horse, he simply went to heaven, upwards. It looks absurd,
Mohammedans have not been able to prove it, but the meaning is clear. The story
may have not exactly happened, but the meaning is clear.
The meaning is to be understood, it is very symbolical. It simply says that
there is a law of levitation and if Mohammed cannot be pulled by levitation,
then who will be pulled? He is the right person, a person who exists not. The
ego is under gravitation, the no-ego is not under gravitation - a weightlessness
arises.
Nijinsky went mad because he was simply a dancer and he never knew anything
about meditation, ecstasy, enlightenment. That became a trouble for him.
If you don't understand and if you don't move with awareness and suddenly you
stumble upon something which cannot be explained by ordinary laws, you will go
mad. Because you will be disturbed by it. It is so weird, it is so eerie. You
cannot explain it. You start getting disturbed by it. He himself started getting
disturbed by the phenomenon. Finally it was so staggering it disturbed his whole
mind.
God is very destructive. If you don't go rightly, you will be destroyed, because
god is fire. Many people go mad if they don't move rightly. If they don't move
under right guidance they can go mad. It is not a child's play, one has to
understand.
And god - if he happens like an accident - you will not be able to absorb. Your
old world will be shattered and you will not be able to create a new order, a
new understanding. Because for the new understanding you will need new concepts,
a new framework, a new gestalt. That is the whole meaning of finding a master.
It is not just from gullibility that people become attached to masters, it has a
scientific base to it. Moving into the unknown is a tremendous risk. One should
move with somebody who has already moved into it. One should move hand in hand
with somebody who knows the territory. Otherwise the thing can happen so
shatteringly that you will be at a loss.
Many people go mad if they don't know that somebody's help is needed. Somebody
is needed like a midwife. You will be born, but somebody will be needed to watch
over it. His very presence will be helpful; you can relax. The midwife is there,
the doctor is there - you can relax.
They don't do much - you can ask Dr. Ajit Saraswati - they don't do much; what
can they do? - but their very presence relaxes the woman who is going under
labour. She knows the doctor is there, the nurse is there, the midwife is there.
Everything is okay, she goes, she relaxes, she is no more fighting. She knows if
something goes wrong people are around who will put it right. She can relax, she
can trust.
The same happens to a disciple. It is a process of rebirth. A master is needed.
But from the master don't go on collecting knowledge; from the master take hints
and move into experience.
I talk about meditation. You can do two things. You can collect whatsoever I say
about meditation, you can compile it. You can become a great, knowledgeable
person about meditation - because every day I go on talking about meditation
from different dimensions in different ways. You can collect all that, you can
get a Ph. D. from any university. But that is not going to make you wise, unless
you meditate.
So whatsoever I am saying, try it in life. While I am here don't waste time in
collecting knowledge. That you can do without me, that you can do in a library.
While I am here take a jump, a quantum leap into wisdom. EXPERIENCE these things
I am saying to you.
Wisdom is only through one's own experience. It is never from anybody else. Wisdom always happens as a flower opens... just like that. When your heart opens, you have a fragrance - that fragrance is wisdom. You can bring a plastic flower from the market, you can deceive neighbours.
I used to live near Mulla Nasrudin once. I used to see him every day pouring
water into a pot which was hanging in his window, with beautiful flowers. I
watched him many times. Whenever he would be pouring water, there was no water,
the pot was empty. I could see that there was no water and the pot was empty,
but he would pour twice every day, religiously.
I asked Nasrudin, 'What are you doing? You don't have any water and you go on
pouring it, which is not there! And I have been watching you for many days.' He
said, 'Don't get disturbed. These flowers are plastic flowers. They don't need
water.'
Plastic flowers don't need water, they are not alive. They don't need soil,
they are not alive. They don't need fertilizers, they are not alive. They don't
need any manure, they are not alive.
Real flowers are like wisdom. Wisdom is like real flowers, knowledge is plastic.
That's why it is cheap. It is very cheap, you can get it for nothing, because it
is borrowed. Experience is a radical change in your life; you cannot be the
same.
If you want to become wise you will have to go through transformations, a
million and one transformations. You will have to pass through fire. Only then
whatsoever is there which is ugly and useless will be burnt, and you will come
out as pure gold.
... And the wisdom only. The knowledge thus attained through one's own
experience, through one's own enlightening experience, through one's own satori,
samadhi, makes you capable of falling in tune with the way.
The Buddha calls it dhamma, tao. Then you are in harmony - what Pythagoras calls
harmonia. Then you are suddenly not there, only the law is there, the dhamma is
there, the way is there - or call it god... is there. Then you are simply with
the whole. You go with it wherever it goes. Then you don't have any goal of your
own. Then the whole's destiny is your destiny. Then there is no anxiety, no
tension. Then one is immensely relaxed.
In fact, one is so relaxed that one is not! The ego is nothing but accumulated
tensions through lives. When you are totally relaxed and you look within, there
is nobody. It is simple purity, emptiness, vastness.
Buddha says ego is just a concept, an idea; it does not exist in reality.
When a child is born he is born without any 'I'. By and by he learns it, by and
by he learns that there are other people and he is separate from them. Have you
watched small children when they start speaking? They don't say, 'I am thirsty.'
They say, 'Bobby is thirsty.' They don't say, 'I am thirsty.' They don't have
any 'I'.
By and by they learn the 'I', because they start feeling 'thou'. Thou comes
first, then comes I, as a reaction to thou. They started feeling that there are
other people who are separate from Bobby, and they are called 'thou', you. Then
by and by he starts learning the 'I'.
But it is just a utility. Useful, perfectly useful - use it. I'm not saying stop
using 'I', because that will create troubles. But know well that there is no 'I'
within you; it is just a linguistic convenience. Just as the name is a
convenience so is the 'I'.
When a child is born he has no name. Then we call him Ram or Krishna, and he
becomes a Ram. Later on if you insult the name 'Ram' he will start fighting, and
he had come in the world without a name. And he has no name, it is just a label
- utilitarian, needed, but nothing true in it. He can as well be called Krishna
or Mohammed or Mansoor or anything. Any name will do because he is nameless.
That's why I change your names when I initiate you into sannyas - just to give
you a feeling that the name can be changed, it does not belong to you. It can
easily be changed. It has a utility in the world, but it has no reality.
The child learnt that his name is Ram. The name is for others to call him. He
cannot call himself Ram because that too will be confusing. Others call him Ram,
he has to call himself something else, otherwise it will be confusing.
Swami Ram Teerth used to call himself Ram, in the third person. It was very
confusing. He was a beautiful man, and just not to use 'I' - because the 'I' has
created so much trouble - just as a gesture, he used to call himself Ram. When
he went to America he would say suddenly, 'Ram is thirsty,' and people would not
understand. What does he mean? - 'Ram is thirsty.' They would look around - who
is Ram? And he would say, 'This Ram is thirsty.' But this is confusing. You say,
'I am thirsty,' and things are settled. Because when you use the name it seems
that somebody else is thirsty.
So there is a need for a name others can call you, and there is a need for
something, a symbol, that you can call yourself. It is a need of the society, it
has nothing to do with existence or reality.
Buddha says the body is composed of fire, earth, water, air - these four
things are there, they are real things, and there is nothing else. Behind these
four things there is just pure space inside you. That pure space is what you
really are - that zero space.
Buddha does not want to call it even a self, because the self carries again some
distant reflection of the ego. So he calls it no-self, ANATTA. He does not call
it ATMA, self, he calls it ANATMA, no-self. And he is right, he is absolutely
right. One should not call it any name.
I have come across it. It has no name, and it has no form. It has no substance,
and it has no center. It is just immense, pure, empty, full. It is pure bliss -
satchidananda. It is truth, it is consciousness, it is bliss, but it has no
'I'-sense in it. It is not confined by anything, it has no boundaries. It is
pure space. To attain to that purity is what Buddha says is nirvana.
The word nirvana is beautiful. It means 'blowing out a flame'. There is a lamp,
you go and blow the flame of the lamp. Then Buddha says, 'Do you ask where the
flame has gone now? Can anybody answer where the flame has gone now?' Buddha
says it has simply disappeared into infinity. It has not gone anywhere, it has
gone everywhere. It has not gone to any particular address, it has become
universal.
Blowing out a flame is the meaning of the word nirvana. And Buddha says when you
blow out your ego, the flame of the ego, only pure space is left. Then you are
nobody in particular, you are everybody. Then you are universal. Then you are
this vast benediction, this bliss, this beautitude. Then you are IT.