=====OSHO=====

bonddonraj

Par 100 posts (V.I.P)

osho1.jpg

Early History of the Movement:
Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh (1931-1990) was born Rajneesh Chandra Mohan in Kuchwara, a town in central India. Various sources state that "Bhagwan" means either "The Blessed One" or "God" and that "Shree" means "Master". At the end of his life, he changed his name to Osho.

His parents' religion was Jainism. However, Osho never subscribed to any religious faith during his lifetime. He received "samadhi" (enlightenment in which his soul became one with the universe) on 1953-MAR-21 at the age of 21. Rajneesh obtained a masters degree in philosophy from the University of Saugar. He taught philosophy at the University of Jabalpur for nine years and concurrently worked as a religious leader. In 1966, he left his teaching post and gave his full attention to teaching his sannyasins (disciples) while pursuing a speaking career. He had an apartment in Bombay where he often met individuals and small groups, where acting as spiritual teacher, guide and friend. Most of his Sannyasins came from Europe and India in the early years.

In 1974, Osho moved from Bombay southward to Pune, India. Some anti-cult groups have claimed that this decision was made because of local opposition from the public in Bombay. In reality, it was to establish an ashram (place of teaching) which would provide larger and more comfortable facilities for his disciples. The ashram consisted of two adjoining properties covering six acres in an affluent suburb of Pune called Koregaon Park. Some estimate as many as 50,000 Westerners spent time seeking enlightenment there with the guru. In 1979, he saw his movement as the route to the preservation of the human race. He said: If we cannot create the 'new man' in the coming 20 years, then humanity has no future. The holocaust of a global suicide can only be avoided if a new kind of man can be created." He taught a syncretistic spiritual path that combined elements from Hinduism, Jainism, Zen Buddhism, Taoism, Christianity, ancient Greek philosophy, many other religious and philosophic traditions, humanistic psychology, new forms of therapy and meditation, etc.

In 1980, he was the victim of a knife attack by a Hindu fundamentalist during his morning discourse. Because of police incompetence, the charges against the terrorist were dropped.

In 1981 he left India reluctantly because of health problems. He went to the United States in order to obtain advanced treatment. There have been rumors of income tax evasion, and insurance fraud; it is not known whether these have any validity. The group settled on the 65,000 acre "Big Muddy Ranch" near Antelope, Oregon, which his sannyasins had bought for six million dollars. The ranch was renamed Rajneeshpuram ("City of Rajneesh"). This "small, desolate valley twelve miles from Antelope, Oregon was transformed into a thriving town of 3,000 residents, with a 4,500 foot paved airstrip, a 44 acre reservoir, an 88,000 square foot meeting hall..." 8 Many of the local folks were intolerant of the new group in their midst, because of religious and cultural differences. One manifestation of this intolerance was the town's denial of building permits to the followers of Rajneesh. Some buildings were erected on the ranch without planning board approval. When officials attempted to stop the construction, their office was firebombed by unknown person(s). When the local city council repeatedly refused to issue permits for their businesses, some sannyasins elected themselves to the city council. The town of Antelope was renamed City of Rajneesh.

Top aides of Osho were charged with a number of crimes, including the attempted murder of Osho's personal physician. There were stories of a hit list. Some fled the country for Switzerland where they had control over the group's bank accounts. Two were eventually convicted of conspiracy to murder local lawyer Charles Turner in an attempt to prevent closure of the ranch.

In 1983, Osho's secretary Sheela Silverman predicted on behalf of Osho that there would be massive destruction on earth, between 1984 and 1999. This would include both natural disasters and man-made catastrophes. Floods larger than any since Noah, extreme earthquakes, very destructive volcano eruptions, nuclear wars etc. would be experienced. Tokyo, New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Bombay were all expected to disappear. There is doubt that these predictions actually came from Osho; they are not representative of his other teachings.

A number of sources have reported that spiritual devotees of Rajneesh had spread salmonella on a local restaurant's salad bar in order to reduce voter turnout on a measure that would have restricted the group's activities. Allegedly, 751 people were affected by the bacteria. 9,10

Fearing a raid of the type that later happened in Waco, several of Osho's disciples arranged for him to be flown to Charlotte for safety. In North Carolina, he ran afoul of US immigration law. He allegedly arranged a number of phony marriages between some of his Indian followers and American citizens so that the former could obtain clearance to stay in the country. He was also charged with lying on his immigration papers. He entered an "Alford Plea," commonly called a no-contest plea. His lawyers suggested that he do this because of concerns over his health and safety if he had to spend more time in prison. He was given a suspended sentence on condition that he leave the country. He returned to Pune, India in 1987, where his health began to fail. Here, he abandoned the name of Rajneesh and adopted "Osho". Some sources explain that the name was derived from the expression "oceanic experience" by William James; others say that it was derived from an ancient Japanese word for master. He died in Pune in 1990. Various rumors spread that he had been poisoned with thallium by the CIA, had been exposed to damaging doses of radiation by the U.S. authorities, or had heart failure. It is obvious that he did not experience thallium poisoning, because he died with a full beard, and only male-pattern baldness on the top of his head. A person suffering from thallium poisoning suffers a dramatic loss of hair with a week of exposure. 6 His death certificate lists heart failure as the cause of his death.

At its peak, they had about 200,000 members and 600 centers around the world. They were targeted by many anti-cult groups as an evil, mind control cult. One source, in a masterful stroke of religious disinformation, claimed that "Bhagwan" means "Master of the Vagina." He has been called the "sex guru."



Beliefs and Practices
Osho developed new forms of active meditation. The best known is Dynamic Meditation which often starts with strenuous physical activity followed by silence and celebration. These were expected to lead the individual to overcome repression, lower their personal inhibitions, develop a "state of emptiness", and attain enlightenment. The person then would have "no past, no future, no attachment, no mind, no ego, no self." Prior to 1985, the disciples wore red robes, and a necklace of 108 beads which had an attached picture of Rajneesh. Osho assigned a new name to each of the disciples. Men were given the title "Swami"; women were called "Ma". Although most members lived a frugal, simple lifestyle, Rajneesh himself lived in luxury. His collection 27 Rolls Royces, given to him by his followers, was well known. (Some sources say he had as many as 100 cars). Anti-cult groups claimed that he urged his disciples to sever their connection to their families of origin. It is true that he felt that the institution of the family was out of date and that it should be replaced with alternative forms of community and ways of caring for children. However, he actually encouraged individual disciples to make peace with their families. Many became disciples themselves, including Osho's own parents.

He taught a form of Monism, that God was in everything and everyone. There is no division between "God" and "not-God". People, even at their worse, are divine. He recognized Jesus Christ as having attained enlightenment, and believed that he survived his crucifixion and moved to India where he died at the age of 112. Osho was noted for reading very offensive jokes; some were anti-Semitic; others were anti-Roman Catholicism; others insulted just about every ethnic and religious group in the world. He explained that the purpose of these jokes was to shock people and to encourage them to examine their identification with and attachment to their ethnic or religious beliefs. His contention was that national, religious, gender and racial divisions are destructive.
Recent Developments
Osho repeatedly stated that he would not appoint a successor to replace him after his death. He viewed each disciple as his successor. However, before his death, he appointed an inner circle of 21 individuals to look after the functioning of the meditation resort at Pune and handle administrative affairs relating to his work. They now operate about 20 meditation centers worldwide. Rajneesh's main influence now is through his voluminous writings; they are read by many New Agers as well as followers of Osho
 
I KNOW SOME MAY HAVE DIFFERENT SCHOOLS OF THOUGHT ABOUT HIM.......BUT STILL HE WAS AN INDIAN .....A PERSON WHO WAS WRONGLY INTERPRETED.....I SAY ALL TO READ HIM FIRST AND THEN JUDGE .....
HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO DARED TO ASK WORLD TO ENJOY WHEN HE DIE......HE WAS POISONED AS HE TOLD TRUTH......LIKE SOCARAT .....WAS EXAILED AS HE TOLD NACKED TRUTH....LIKE MAY BE PRESENT GEN GURU,....C.K PRAHALAD....

HERE I AM POSTING SOME HIS WORK....READ IT AND GIVE COMMENTS.....
 
I have a very soft corner in my heart for Bodhidharma. That makes it a very special occasion to speak about him. Perhaps he is the only man whom I have loved so deeply that speaking on him I will be almost speaking on myself. That also creates a great complexity, because he never wrote anything in his life. No enlightened being has ever written. Bodhidharma is not an exception, but by tradition these three books that we are going to discuss are attributed to Bodhidharma.
The scholars reason that because there is no contrary evidence -- and for almost one thousand years, these books have been attributed to Bodhidharma -- there is no reason why we should not accept them. I am not a scholar, and there are certainly fragments which must have been spoken by Bodhidharma, but these are not books written by him. These are notes by his disciples. It was an ancient tradition that when a disciple takes notes from the master he does not put his own name on those notes, because nothing of it belongs to him; it has come from the master.
But knowing Bodhidharma as intimately as I know him ... There are so many fallacies which are possible only if somebody else was taking notes and his own mind entered into it; he has interpreted Bodhidharma -- and with not much understanding.
Before we enter into these sutras, a few things about Bodhidharma will be good to know. That will give you the flavor of the man and a way to understand what belongs to him in these books and what does not belong to him. It is going to be a very strange commentary.
Bodhidharma was born fourteen centuries ago as a son of a king in the south of India. There was a big empire, the empire of Pallavas. He was the third son of his father, but seeing everything -- he was a man of tremendous intelligence -- he renounced the kingdom. He was not against the world, but he was not ready to waste his time in mundane affairs, in trivia. His whole concern was to know his self-nature, because without knowing it you have to accept death as the end.
All true seekers in fact, have been fighting against death. Bertrand Russell has made a statement that if there were no death, there would be no religion. There is some truth in it. I will not agree totally, because religion is a vast continent. It is not only death, it is also the search for bliss, it is also the search for truth, it is also the search for the meaning of life; it is many more things. But certainly Bertrand Russell is right: if there were no death, very few, very rare people would be interested in religion. Death is the great incentive.
Bodhidharma renounced the kingdom saying to his father, "If you cannot save me from death, then please don't prevent me. Let me go in search of something that is beyond death." Those were beautiful days, particularly in the East. The father thought for a moment and he said, "I will not prevent you, because I cannot prevent your death. You go on your search with all my blessings. It is sad for me but that is my problem; it is my attachment. I was hoping for you to be thesuccessor, to be the emperor of the great Pallavas empire, but you have chosen something higher than that. I am your father so how can I prevent you?
"And you have put in such a simple way a question which I had never expected. You say, `If you can prevent my death then I will not leave the palace, but if you cannot prevent my death, then please don't prevent me either.'" You can see Bodhidharma's caliber as a great intelligence.
And the second thing that I would like you to remember is that although he was a follower of Gautam Buddha, in some instances he shows higher flights than Gautam Buddha himself. For example, Gautam Buddha was afraid to initiate a woman into his commune of sannyasins but Bodhidharma got initiated by a woman who was enlightened. Her name was Pragyatara. Perhaps people would have forgotten her name; it is only because of Bodhidharma that her name still remains, but only the name -- we don't know anything else about her. It was she who ordered Bodhidharma to go to China. Buddhism had reached China six hundred years before Bodhidharma. It was something magical; it had never happened anywhere, at any time -- Buddha's message immediately caught hold of the whole Chinese people.
The situation was that China had lived under the influence of Confucius and was tired of it. Because Confucius is just a moralist, a puritan, he does not know anything about the inner mysteries of life. In fact, he denies that there is anything inner. Everything is outer; refine it, polish it, culture it, make it as beautiful as possible.
There were people like Lao Tzu, Chuang Tzu, Lieh Tzu, contemporaries of Confucius, but they were mystics not masters. They could not create a counter movement against Confucius in the hearts of the Chinese people. So there was a vacuum. Nobody can live without a soul, and once you start thinking that there is no soul, your life starts losing all meaning. The soul is your very integrating concept; without it you are cut away from existence and eternal life. Just like a branch cut off from a tree is bound to die -- it has lost the source of nourishment -- the very idea that there is no soul inside you, no consciousness, cuts you away from existence. One starts shrinking, one starts feeling suffocated.
But Confucius was a very great rationalist. These mystics, Lao Tzu, Chuang Tzu, Lieh Tzu, knew that what Confucius was doing was wrong, but they were not masters. They remained in their monasteries with their few disciples.
When Buddhism reached China, it immediately entered to the very soul of the people... as if they had been thirsty for centuries, and Buddhism had come as a rain cloud. It quenched their thirst so immensely that something unimaginable happened.
Christianity has converted many people, but that conversion is not worth calling religious. It converts the poor, the hungry, the beggars, the orphans, not by any spiritual impact on them but just by giving them food, clothes, shelter, education. But these have nothing to do with spirituality. Mohammedanism has converted atremendous amount of people, but on the point of the sword: either you be a Mohammedan, or you cannot live. The choice is yours.
The conversion that happened in China is the only religious conversion in the whole history of mankind. Buddhism simply explained itself, and the beauty of the message was understood by the people. They were thirsty for it, they were waiting for something like it. The whole country, which was the biggest country in the world, turned to Buddhism. When Bodhidharma reached there six hundred years later, there were already thirty thousand Buddhist temples, monasteries, and two million Buddhist monks in China. And two million Buddhist monks is not a small number; it was five percent of the whole population of China.
Pragyatara, Bodhidharma's master, told him to go to China because the people who had reached there before him had made a great impact, although none of them were enlightened. They were great scholars, very disciplined people, very loving and peaceful and compassionate, but none of them were enlightened. And now China needed another Gautam Buddha. The ground was ready.
Bodhidharma was the first enlightened man to reach China. The point I want to make clear is that while Gautam Buddha was afraid to initiate women into his commune, Bodhidharma was courageous enough to be initiated by a woman on the path of Gautam Buddha. There were other enlightened people, but he chose a woman for a certain purpose. And the purpose was to show that a woman can be enlightened. Not only that, her disciples can be enlightened. Bodhidharma's name stands out amongst all the Buddhist enlightened people second only to Gautam Buddha.
There are many legends about the man; they all have some significance. The first legend is: When he reached China -- it took him three years -- the Chinese emperor Wu came to receive him. His fame had reached ahead of him. Emperor Wu had done great service to the philosophy of Gautam Buddha. Thousands of scholars were translating Buddhist scriptures from Pali into Chinese and the emperor was the patron of all that great work of translation. He had made thousands of temples and monasteries, and he was feeding thousands of monks. He had put his whole treasure at the service of Gautam Buddha, and naturally the Buddhist monks who had reached before Bodhidharma had been telling him that he was earning great virtue, that he will be born as a god in heaven.
Naturally, his first question to Bodhidharma was, "I have made so many monasteries, I am feeding thousands of scholars, I have opened a whole university for the studies of Gautam Buddha, I have put my whole empire and its treasures in the service of Gautam Buddha. What is going to be my reward?"
He was a little embarrassed seeing Bodhidharma, not thinking that the man would be like this. He looked very ferocious. He had very big eyes, but he had a very soft heart -- just a lotus flower in his heart. But his face was almost as dangerous as you can conceive. Just the sunglasses were missing; otherwise he was a mafia guy!..................
 
THE ABSOLUTE TAO
THE TAO THAT CAN BE TRODDEN IS NOT THE ENDURING
AND UNCHANGING TAO. THE NAME THAT CAN BE NAMED
IS NOT THE ENDURING AND UNCHANGING NAME.

Those who have known, not by words, not by scriptures but by actually living life, from amongst those very few, Lao Tzu is one. And from amongst those yet fewer persons, who having known, have ceaselessly endeavoured to reveal what they have known, Lao Tzu is one. But the very first experience of those enlightened ones, who have tried to express what they have known is, that: whatever is expressible is not Truth. That which can assume form, invariably loses its spiritual power (of the Formless).
Now if someone wishes to make a picture of the sky, this can never be. Whatever picture is made, it will not be of the sky, for space is that which embodies everything. A picture cannot contain anything; it, in itself is surrounded by space. So Truth expressed in words, will be like the skies depicted in a picture. No bird can fly in the sky of a picture, no sun comes out in the morning or stars at night. It is dead for all purposes and the sky only in name. The sky cannot be in a picture. The greatest difficulty that a person encounters when he sets forth to express Truth is, that no sooner Truth is converted into words, it becomes Un-Truth. It becomes just what it is not. Then what was to be conveyed, remains unsaid; and what was not to be conveyed, is given voice. Lao Tzu starts his very first line with this statement.
Tao is a peerless word. Try to understand its full meaning so we can proceed with ease. There are many meanings of Tao. The deeper a thing becomes, the more meanings it develops; and when a thing becomes multi-dimensional, it is but natural that it becomes more intricate. One interpretation of Tao is: "The Way." But, all paths are bound and fixed! What sort of a path is Tao? It is like the path that a bird makes; in the skies as it flies -- the path is formed but it is not fixed. All other paths leave their marks behind, which makes it easy for others to follow. Tao is a path like the bird makes in the skies -- there are no footprints left behind for the convenience of others to follow. If we visualize a path that is unconstructed, a path where there are no footprints, a path that no other person can create for you -- you travel and as you travel the path is formed -- then we can interpret Tao as: 'The Way'. But such a path we see nowhere! Therefore, is it proper to call Tao -- 'The Way'?
This however, is one dimension of Tao. Now let us take another meaning of the Path. A path is that which takes us to a destination. A path is that which joins us to the destination. But Tao is not such a path. When we walk along a road and reach the destination, both the road and the destination are connected to each other. In fact the destination is the last end of the road and the road is the beginning of the destination. Therefore, the path and the goal are not two different things -- they are joined allied to one another. The road cannot be without a destination, nor can the destination be without a road. But Tao is a path that is tied to no destination. When a destination is connected with a path, the length of the journey is known. So the traveller knows the distance to the destination. But Tao is such a path where the traveller attains his destination at the very place he stands! Therefore, Tao cannot be likened to the general concept of a path. It is a path where we attain the destination from the very place we stand upon. It can also be that we travel for millions of births and not attain it. Invariably then, Tao is a different kind of a path. So one meaning of Tao is 'The Path' but in a very intrinsic sense -- and with very many conditions.
Another interpretation of Tao is 'Religion'. But Religion not in the sense that we generally understand. Religion here is what the ancient Rishis meant. Religion means the Regulation that holds all within itself. The Ultimate Law that holds all Existence, is the Tao Religion. And this Religion is not akin to the Hindu, Islam or the Buddhist and Jain religions. Religion is the Absolute Law of Existence. Religion means the Eternal Law of Life. But all laws are limited. Tao is a Law that has no boundaries.
In fact, all boundaries pertain to death; there are no limitations to Life. Dead things alone are limited. Live things are not limited they are boundless. The very meaning of life is one continuous ability of expansion. If a seed is alive it can turn into a seedling. If a seedling is alive, it can turn into a tree. If a tree is alive. more seeds and seedlings can come out of it. Where the ability to expand stops. Life stops with it. This is why a child is more alive than an old man, for its ability to expand is very great. So Tao is not the Law in any limited sense. It is not a law like any man-made laws, that can be defined, that can be enclosed within a boundary. Tao is a Law that is Infinite Expanse, capable of touching the Infinite, the Boundless. Therefore to call it merely Religion, will not do.
There is one other word that the Rishis have used and which is perhaps, the nearest to Tao. That word is 'RIT' from which the word 'RITU' (season) was evolved. The Ritu they talk about is the discussion of Tao. If we try to understand the word 'Rit', by seasons it will be easier.
Summer comes and then the rains and then Winter follows. Then again it is Summer. It is a recurring circle, that keeps revolving. First there is childhood, then comes youth, then old age and thereafter death. It is a circle that keeps revolving. First there is morning, then evening and then night, then again it is morning. The Sun rises, then it sets, then it rises again -- it is a circle. Life moves in a circular manner. The Controlling Factor of this movement is what is known as 'Rit'. Remember, there is no concept of any God in this word 'Rit'. It means the 'Controlling Principle' and not a Controlling Person. It is not a person who controls, rather, it is a principle that goes on controlling. And this too, is not correct for it gives the impression of a being that controls. It would be more proper to say, 'That from which the Principle occurs, that from which the Principle evolves.' It is not that someone creates the laws and forms regulations -- no; the laws are continuously formed through it. As the sprout springs from the bud, so the seasons come out from 'Rit'. This also is one of the intrinsic meanings of Tao.
Yet, none of these words convey the vital meaning of the word Tao, for whatever meaning is given to it, Tao is yet infinitely greater; for something or the other is always left out. This is the greatest difficulty with words that all words are formed out of duality. If we say night, the day is left out; if we say light, darkness is left out; if we say life, death is left out. Whatever we say, something is always left out; and Life, Existence, is one whole amalgam. There night and day are no two separate things, birth and death are not two different events; neither is a child and an old man two different entities, nor are hot and cold two different states. There, when the Sun rises in the morning, it also sets in the night.
Life is such -- united, whole but whenever we try to express in words, something is left out. If we say 'day', the night is left out but night too, is within the Existence. Whenever we make a pronouncement -- this is Tao, this is the Path, this is the Religion, or the 'Rit', -- with the very pronouncement, something is left unpronounced. Now for instance, suppose we say the word 'Regulation', with the very mention of this word, we leave out chaos whereas in life, chaos also is. With the very word 'Regulation', that which is anarchic, the chaotic factor, is left behind. Nietzsche has written somewhere, "How will new stars come into being if disorder is no more? How will new creation come into being if there is anarchy no more?"
Creation is born out of disorder, anarchy. Out of chaos comes creation. In the absence of chaos, there can be no creation. And if creation alone is, it will never end, for it will have to plunge into chaos to end itself. When we say, 'The Principle,' we leave out chaos; but this too, is a part of Existence. There is no way of leaving it out of existence; we can only brush it aside with words. So when we say 'Rit', then also something is left out and that is -- chaos; which happens and yet happens outside of the Principle. Everything in Existence does not occur with Principle, or else life would become worthless. There is something in this Existence that happens outside this Law. Whatever is non-significant obeys the Principle but the most profound experiences of life follow no regulations. They come suddenly, uncalled, without any cause, and knock at your door. The day, the advent of God takes place in a person's life, he cannot say that because he did such and such a thing therefore he attained Him. Then, he is only able to say: "What compassion, What mercy, my Lord! I have done nothing to deserve this honour. Whatever I did, had no connection with this, Your coming! How did You come? I never desired You, I never wished for You, nor did I ever seek You. And if I ever desired you, I desired you in a wrong way and if I ever sought You it was in places where You were not and if I ever wished for You I never believed You will ever come my way! Then this -- Your Coming! Oh Lord Oh Lord!" When God enters into someone's life, His advent has not the remotest connection with any action on the part of the individual. He comes suddenly, uncalled!
If everything in Existence was based on Principle, then we could say that Tao means 'Rit'. But that which is outside of this Regulation in Life and which is present every moment and appears suddenly, without a cause, we cannot leave outside of Life and Existence. So then, what shall we call Tao?
In his very first Sutra, Lao Tzu says! "The Tao that can be trodden is not the enduring and unchanging Tao." Now a path means that which can be trodden upon. But Lao Tzu says, "Not the path that can be trodden upon; not the path on which you can walk!" Now if we cannot tread this path, what is the point in calling it a path? If only we can walk on it, could it be a path. But Lao Tzu says otherwise -- "That which can be trodden is not the enduring, unchanging Tao!"
There are many things to this small sutra. First and foremost, the path that can be trodden, on which the incidence of walking takes place, the event of reaching does not take place there. Where we have to reach is nowhere away from us. It is here and now. If I have to come to you; I shall have to come along a path but if I have to go to myself, what path shall I follow? And the more I set out on a journey to reach myself the more I shall wander. I shall go further and further away! from myself. He who sets out on a path to find himself, will never reach himself. How will he? He will lose himself with his own hands by this search. He who wants to seek his own Self, has to leave all paths, for no path leads to the Self. In fact, no path is required to reach the self, for paths are required to reach 'the other'. He reaches his own self who leaves all paths and steps aside. He who does not walk, reaches! It is therefore that Lao Tzu says: "The Tao that can be trodden is not the enduring and unchanging Tao."
Lao Tzu says two things: One is, that it is not eternal and enduring. In fact, whatever path we can tread upon, will be formed by ourselves and since it is formed by ourselves, it cannot be enduring. It will be created by man and therefore not created by God. And how can a path that is carved out by us, lead to Truth? If we had the knowledge of the temple of Truth, then we could carve a road that leads up to it. Remember a path can only be made if the destination is known. If I know your house, I'll find a way to reach it. But this is very difficult that I should reach your house without following a specific way. Or else, how will I know where your house is?
An ancient Egyptian Scripture says: "When you meet God and you recognise Him, then you will surely say, 'Forsooth, I have always known You!'" If you cannot say this, then how will you recognise God? Then recognition is impossible. The meaning of recognition is to identify that which is known before. If God stands before me and I get up and ask Him; "What is Your good name?" I shall then never recognise God. And if at the very first glance I recognise Him -- that it is He! -- it means that at some moment, in some corner of my consciousness, through some opening, I have known Him -- to-day, I have recognised Him. We can only recognise what we have known. If you know already where Truth is, where is the need for a path for you? You have reached Truth, you have known it. So the one who knows, makes no paths; one who does not know, makes paths. And how can the paths made by those who do not know ever take you towards Truth?
That cannot be the enduring path.
Which is the enduring path? The Path that was never made by Man; it was when Man was not; and it will be when Man is not. It is that Path which is not created by the Rishis of the Vedas; that is not created by any Buddha, Mahavira, Mohammed, Christ or Krishna. At the most, they can only give news of this Path. So, which is the Enduring Path? In this context the Rishis never say that what they say is their own. They always say, "So it has been said by others before us: so has It always been known to Man. The tidings we bring is of that Path which is eternal. It was, when we were not and it was even when there was no one. When the Earth disintegrates and Life begins to depart, it still will be. Like the vast expanse of the Skies, it was always present. It is a different matter that our wings were not strong enough till yesterday to fly; today we can. It is yet a different matter that even today we cannot gather courage enough and sit at the edge of our nest, sizing up our wings, turning within our minds whether to fly or not to fly. But the skies are not formed by your flying. When you did not have your wings; when you were imprisoned within the ego: it still was. And even if today, in spite of your wings, you remain sitting and refuse to fly, the skies will not disintegrate on your account. Space is -- even without you. So the Enduring Path is that which is devoid of travellers. If a path depends on the traveller, it cannot be enduring.
And the path that is walked upon is ridden with deformities for the traveller walks with his maladies. This needs a little explanation.
He who steps out of all maladies does not walk any more -- there is no need to. He has reached. He who is filled with disease, keeps walking. He walks in order to escape his maladies; but whichever path he treads becomes infected with his disease. Wherever he halts, the place becomes unholy. Wherever he seeks, he only succeeds to create more smoke. It is just as when a man steps into a pool of stagnant waters and disturbs the slush below. All his efforts to put down the slush, will only help to raise the remaining slush from below. The more desperately he tries, the more turbid the water becomes, for more slush rises to the surface, making the water more dirty. If Lao Tzu happens to pass by, he would tell him, "Friend, come out! That which you try to purify, becomes impure, for you yourself are impure. Please come out. Leave the water alone. Sit on the shore, the water will purify itself. You leave all efforts for they are dangerous -- one and all!"
The Path on which sick people walk, cannot be the enduring path.
Also remember, it is only the sick who walk. Those who reach, those who are purified, who have known, they stop. For then there is no question of walking. In truth, we roam only because some desire goads us on. All desires are unholy. Even the desire of attaining God is unholy. The desire to attain liberation also is not without its stink. Actually wherever there are desires, the mind becomes ugly. A mind full of desire, is a mind filled with tension. Where there is the urge to reach; where there is the eagerness, the expectancy, there is born the madness of wandering. And then all sicknesses gather together.
Lao Tzu says: "THE PATH THAT CAN BE TRODDEN IS NOT THE ENDURING NOR THE UNCHANGING PATH." Is there then, such a path which cannot be trodden? Is there a path on which one does not walk and on which one can only stand? Can there be a path for standing alone? This appears contradictory. Roads are meant for walking and not merely to stand! But Tao is the name of that Path which does not reach you by walking on it; rather it reaches you by halting on it. Because by halting on it people have reached their destination, it is called a Path. Man keeps roaming and running on the roads of the corporeal world and they reach him nowhere. Therefore, these roads, in fact, are roads only in name. They are not the Path.
The second part of the statement is: The name that can be memorised cannot be the enduring and the unchanging Tao. The name which can be named, that can be recollected, that can be expressed in words, cannot be the authentic name. It cannot be the enduring, everlasting name which cannot be conquered by Time. Understand this further:
We give a name to every thing. It is convenient for human transactions, it is easier to establish relationships and describe things. If we do not use names, things become complicated and difficult. All movements are impossible without attributing names in this world. But remember, as soon as we give a name, we reduce the limitlessness of that particular thing and make it a limited entrance. Understand this a little: When we name an object we limit it within a certain boundary. A person is sitting next to you. You have no idea who he is. He is sitting close to you, his arm touching yours but you know nothing about him. As yet, his existence is enormous. Then you ask him and he replies, he is a Musalman. At once his existence will contract. All that is non-Hindu falls away -- that much part of Existence falls apart and he is now a limited boundary. Now he is a Musalman. Then you ask: "Are you a Shia or a Sunni?" He says, "I am a Sunni." Yet a part of the Musalman, falls apart.
You continue asking till he reaches the ultimate place where he will now be reverted to a single point. The Vast Existence contracts so that ultimately what remains is the puny, little Ego -- imprisoned on all sides. But then you will find it convenient. Then you can draw yourself up and sit away from him or you can take him to your heart. Then you can talk to him as well as anticipate his answers. Now this man is predictable. Now you can foretell whether it would be proper to be with this man or not. Now it has become easy and simple to deal with him. There is no longer any mystery about the existence of this man. Now he has become an object. We name a thing in order to put it to use -- so that we can deal with things and make use of them. Thus all our names are purely utilitarian there is no Truth behind them.
Can we also name God, the Ultimate Power? And will the name we give be meaningful?
When we name the most negligible of things, we cause its existence to be deformed. We give a name, the boundary is formed and the existence changes for the lesser. The actual fact is, that we shall never be able to name the Ultimate Power (God). The reason is simply this, that: nowhere do our eyes perceive Him; nowhere do our hands touch Him; nor do the ears ever hear Him -- nowhere is a meeting possible with Him. And yet those who have known say, "Our eyes see Him alone, everywhere. Our ears hear His voice alone; whatever we touch, it is He we touch and whomever we meet, it is Him!" But these are people who know. Those who do not, see Him nowhere. Then how will they name Him? And how can those also, who know, who see and hear Him everywhere name Him? For only that can be named which is at one place. One person we call a Musalman for he is found in the Masjid and not in the Mandir (temple). But if this man is encountered again in a temple, then again in a Gurdwara and again in a church; if he is found with a sandal-wood mark on his forehead performing Kirtan one day and found offering prayers in the Masjid the next day, it will be difficult to call him a Musalman. Then it becomes very difficult for you for wherever you go, you find the same man. It is now impossible to name him a Musalman. Those who know not, cannot name Him for they know not whom to name. And those who know, also cannot name Him, for they know all names are His. Everywhere, it is He and He and He!
Therefore Lao Tzu says: "Tao cannot be named." No name can be given that can be memorised. But names are given for remembrance. Names are given so that we can call, we can remember! If there is such a name, that cannot be remembered, it would be wrong to call it a name. What is a name for after all? A father names his son so that he can call out to him, refer to him. The usefulness of a name is in calling out that particular object. But Lao Tzu says: "The name that can be named, is not the Name." But it is for this very remembrance that names are given! Some call Him Ram, some Krishna, some Allah -- so that we may remember Him, call out to Him, whom we do not know. But how can we name Him, of whom we know nothing at all?
Whatever name we give Him, will speak for us but will give no news of Him whatsoever. When you say, "We have named him Ram," it shows that you are born in a Hindu family -- that is all. You say, "We call him Allah." It only shows you have been brought up in a house where He is referred to as Allah. This gives news of you but no news of Him. And this is why the one who calls Him 'Ram', fights with one who calls Him 'Allah'.
If he who called Him 'Allah', knew whom he was calling and if he who called Him 'Ram', new whom he was calling, there would be no quarrels. But we know nothing. We have only the 'name' and the One, whom we have named, we know nothing about Him at all! The condition laid down by Lao Tzu is a very strange condition: "The name that can be named is not His name." All names can be named (remembered). But is there a name that cannot be named? And if you cannot name, how will you know of it?
Bodhidharma stood before Emperor Wen. The King asked, "Bodhidharma, tell me something about that sacred Supreme Truth." Bodhidharma replied, "What is sacred? There is nothing sacred. Nothing is holy. Which Supreme Truth? There is nothing but Emptiness. There is nothing besides the Void." The King was startled. "Then may I ask," he said, "Who is this who stands before me and speaks?"... And you know what Bodhidharma replied? He said, "I do not know, who stands before you and speaks!" The king thought, he was out of his mind. "You do not know even this much?" He asked. "As long as I knew," replied Bodhidharma, "I knew nothing. Ever since I have known, I cannot even say that I know." For that which is known, that which is recognised and named -- is that any name?
Lao Tzu says, "That which can be remembered, is not the name." That which can be named, does not take you beyond Time. Only that can take you beyond Time, which is for ever beyond Time. Only that is beyond Time, which is beyond Time. That which is born within Time, perishes also within Time. If you say that I remembered God at 5 past 5, such a remembrance, will not take you beyond Time. That which is voiced within Time, reverberates and fades also within Time. God is outside of Time. Why?... Because within Time, there is nothing but variation and God is not variation. The exact meaning of Time, is variation. Have you ever realised how you become aware of Time? The fact is, you are only acquainted with variation, you have no knowledge of Time. Take it this way: We are so many people seated in this room. Now if for a full year we keep sitting here and none of us undergoes the slightest change, will we ever feel that a year has passed by? Actually we shall not be conscious even of the passing of a moment, if things remain just as they were. The knowledge of the passing of Time is experienced in the change in things around us. In fact, the sense of alteration is Time. Therefore, the greater the speed with which things change, the more we become conscious of time. You are more conscious of the passing of the day than the passing of night.
If a man lives for sixty years, he sleeps twenty years; but is there an account of these twenty years? None -- they pass in sleep. Things are more static in sleep, there are no drastic variations: the traffic on the road does not move so fast -- all things are at a standstill and you are alone. If a man is made to remain unconscious for a hundred years, he will have no knowledge of this period of time on awakening. He will be startled to see the change around him! And if he finds things and people just as they were before he became unconscious -- the same people around him; the clock ticking away on the wall, the wife cooking in the kitchen, the child away at school -- he will never know a hundred years have passed away! The knowledge of time is the knowledge of change, for all objects are moving, changing and that makes us conscious of Time. The greater the speed of variation, the greater the feeling of time-consciousness.
In the days of old, time-consciousness was not all that apparent. Things were more or less static -- almost where they were. The son found things exactly where his father left them. The son then left the things exactly where his father had left them. So things were almost static. It is not so now. Things are not today where they were yesterday and tomorrow, they will not be where they are today! Everything changes fast and hence the intense Time-Consciousness of this Age. Each moment that passes is very priceless. Whatever is formed within the boundary of Time, will change. No happening of the Eternal can take place within the precincts of Time. No ray of Immortality penetrates Time. It is just as: whoever enters the river, is bound to get wet. He who does not want to get wet, will have to stand at the shore. Whoever is within the flow of Time, will have to change. The unchanging, perpetual world starts only when you stand outside of Time.
Lao Tzu says, "The name that can be named, is not the Name." Remembrance is always within Time; it takes time to pronounce words. We cannot pronounce even a single word within the period of one moment. We pronounce the first part, then the second, then the third. Time flows even as I say the word 'Time'. I pronounce 'T' and one part of Time flows by, then 'i' and another part of Time flows by; and so a considerable amount of Time flows by, by the time I finish the word.
Heraklitus has said: "One cannot step twice into the same river." When you step a second time, the same water would have flowed further away. Heraklitus has been very sparing in his statement. The fact is, one cannot step even once in the same river! For when my toes touch the river, the waters are running away. When my toes enter the river, yet more water flows by; when my feet are well within the river, the waters that touch them, are entirely different from the waters that touched my toes! And then as I reach the bottom of the river, the waters are yet different. Not once am I able to touch the same waters. And it would have been alright even then, had the waters of the river alone been changing. The foot that touches the waters, also changes at the same speed! No, it is not possible to step twice into the same river. No, it is not possible to step even once into the same waters; and not only because the waters of the river are changing but because the one who enters the river, also changes. When I had touched the surface of the river, my mind was different; when my foot was half within the waters, my mind became something else; and as I reached the bottom of the river, my mind was again something quite different! Not only was the body changing, the mind was changing too!
Many a time Buddha would tell the person who approached him: "Remember, you are not the same person returning." Now the person may have come just an hour before. He is bound to be startled by Buddha's remark. He would question him: "What is this you say?" And Buddha would reply, "Definitely, I spoke, you heard -- and within this period, everything has changed."
The Zen Fakir, Bokozu, was crossing a bridge in one of his travels. His companion remarked; "Do you notice how swiftly the river is running?" And Bokozu replies: "Everybody can see the river flowing. Observe minutely -- how fast the bridge is flowing also!" The man is shocked. Do bridges ever flow? It is always the river that flows. He looks inquiringly at Bokozu, who continues his statement, "And this is not all. See yet more carefully -- how fast the people standing on the bridge are flowing away!"
All that occurs within Time, changes. Whatever is said here, fades away; whatever is within, is erased. All writings are the writings on sand -- not even sand but water! So the name of God that is taken by the lips by the tongue, by words, in place and time, is not the Eternal Name. It is not the Name that is beyond Time. And this Name, cannot be named. You can know it, you cannot express it. You can live it, you cannot express it. You can live it, you cannot pronounce it. You can be in the Name but you cannot place it on your tongue.
Lao Tzu says at the same time: "It is neither the enduring nor the unchanging Tao." And if God also changes, can we call Him God? And if the Path also changes, can it be called a Path? And if Truth changes, can it be called Truth? What is expected of Truth is, that no matter how much we go astray, how farther away we wander, when we reach, it will still be the same -- The Same. Whatever we are, however we are; after wandering for countless births, when we reach the Door, it will still be The Same, that it ever was.
There are two or three points with regard to this sameness that should be taken into account: That alone can be 'the Same,' that is Perfect. That which is not perfect, cannot remain the same; for within this imperfection lies the deep-seated desire to be perfect. And this is what brings about the changes. How can the river stand still at one place? She has to meet the Ocean! She has to run fast, go a long way -- there is a lot to be done! How can man remain at one place? God knows how many desires he has to fulfil -- how many Oceans to reach? How can the mind remain the same? It has to hurry along; it has a lot to achieve. He alone can be the same, who hasnothing left to be achieved; nowhere to go. He who reaches, loses him-self -- there beyond which there is nothing to Be. It is the same through Eternity. Remember sameness means perfection. There is no other quality in the consummate Perfection.
There is a very popular joke about Nasruddin. He got hold of a one-stringed instrument. He would keep his finger at one point on the string and play it day in and day out. The wife was disturbed to hear the same note throughout the day. One day passed, then another, then another. It was full eight days that fakir Nasruddin was at the instrument, playing one monotonous note! At last she could hold out no longer, "What is this music you are creating?" She asked him on the eighth day. "Every person in our lane is tormented by this one note you play day and night!" The incessant sound of the single note drove his neighbours mad and they all gathered together and approached him. "Stop for heaven's sake!" They told him. "Many a musician we have seen but never a one like you! You seem to be an amateur. You should move your fingers along the string and create different notes. What is this continuous tun-tun-tun? Our heads will burst! We have decided that either you leave the street or we will.... But tell us why a wise person like you, is indulging in such nerve-wracking madness?" Nasruddin replied, "The other musicians move their hand up and down in search of the proper place. I have found it already! I shall play only this." This is a joke of Nasruddin but this man has played many a profound and priceless joke! If ever God plays an instrument, He too must be playing just one single note. His Hand cannot be moving either this way or that -- there can be no flow, no change there.
Lao Tzu says: "It is not the same -- that which we can pronounce. That which man can pronounce, is not His Name."
Finally, there is one more thing to be understood in this Sutra.
Words and names, are all the creation of the mind. All creation is of the mind. It is the mind that conceives and forms and Mind is ignorance. The mind knows nothing. But it creates even that which it does not know. Then we get a feeling of satisfaction that now we know. If I were to tell you that you know nothing about God, you will be terribly disturbed. But if I were to say, "Why, you know everything about God? The mantra 'Ram-Ram' you repeat, that alone is His Name." Then you will feel relieved. If I were to say, "He has no name and remember, the name you have been repeating, has nothing to do with him," then the mind falls into a turmoil, in a vacuum, in an emptiness! It finds no support to stand, to hold on. And the mind will quickly try and find a support. Once this is found, there is no need to seek further. The mind provides substitutes for Truth and makes full arrangements. It says, "This is Truth. It will serve your purpose." Those who stop at the mind, stop on the paths that are made by man. They stagnate at the Shastras that are man-made. They stagnate at those names that have no connection with God whatsoever.
At the very outset of his original utterance Lao Tzu destroys all possibilities. He snatches away all props and supports. He destroys the complete foundation of all that the mind can do. We may well ponder -- if this is so, what is now left for Lao Tzu to write? What will he say? How will he say That, which cannot be expressed? How will he indicate the path that cannot be trodden? How will he bind the Changeless and Timeless ONE, he tries to suggest with words?
Lao Tzu's complete method is that of negation.
Therefore, it is necessary to understand a few things in connection with negation so that it is easier to understand Lao Tzu further. There are two ways of suggestion in this world. One is the way of positive suggestion. You ask me, "What is this?" and I reply: "This is a wall, or this is a door"..I take a name. The positive finger points directly -- 'this is it!' You ask, "Where is the wall?" I reply, "This is it." But that which can be pointed out directly can be nothing but base or paltry. The Vast Expanse cannot be pointed out with a finger.
The trivial can be pointed at with a finger but if someone asks, "Where is God?" we cannot say, "This is He." We cannot point a finger to God. Rather, all fingers are to be withdrawn into the fist in order to indicate God. When a person closes his fist and says "Here He is," it means the suggestion points nowhere. You cannot point in any direction for He is everywhere.
But the questioner will not be satisfied with this answer. If I close my fist, and say, "Here He is," he might take my fist to indicate Him. Then I shall have to say, "No, no, not my fist." And so negation will start. The man may further try to elucidate his question. He might say, "Perhaps, I have not made my point clear. Is God in the East?" I will have to say, "No", for if I say He is in the East, what happens, to the West? And when we affirm that He is in the East, knowingly or unknowingly we deny His presence in the West.
Directions are the intimations of the limited. What is left behind, is denied. So the second way is that of Negative -- Suggestion. When a person tries to explain with this way, he does not say -- "It is this, it is that"; rather, he says "It is not this, it is not this -- 'Neti-neti'". All his answers are to this effect. A lot of patience is required on the path of Negation, for whatever you ask, he will say, "Not this". Then a time will come when there is nothing more to ask. Then he will say, "This is He!"
It is just as you would begin to question me about things in this room. You catch hold of the table, the chair, the wall and I keep denying. Then when everything in the room is spent, you catch hold of yourself, you catch me and begin to ask: "Is this He?" And I still keep on denying. Then when there is nothing more to ask and when there is nothing left to deny, then Lao Tzu will say, "This is it!" But then you will be in difficulty. You will say, "You have denied all! Now?" In fact, that which cannot be denied even by denial -- that is he. We deny something and it is negated -- what authority does it have? What is the value of that which exists with man's acceptance and is extinct by his denial? The Theist says, "He is." He thinks God exists as if his affirmation, strengthens His existence. The Atheist says, "God does not exist." He thinks he has weakened him by his denial, and this is not the view of the Atheist alone. Even the Theist believes that God is weakened and harmed by denial. The Atheist also is ever ready to refute the slightest suggestion of His existence, or else his theory stands in danger -- as if this question can be decided by man's acceptance or denial!
There is an ancient story from Tibet: There was a small mosquito. Since the story was written by man, he calls the mosquito small. Actually, it was the biggest among mosquitoes. Nay, he was the king of mosquitoes! Now some mosquitoes lived on the dung-hill, others in trees, yet others in various other places but it became a problem as to where they should house their king. Then the ear of an elephant was agreed upon as a befitting place for his residence. Now all the mosquitoes went up to their king and requested him to go and stay in the elephant's ear as that was, according to them, the worthiest place for their monarch. The king went up to the elephant's ear and proclaimed: "Listen O beast! I, the king of the mosquitoes, have decided to honour you by condescending to make your ear my abode!" Thrice he made this proclamation for it was not considered proper to occupy a place within someone and not even inform him.
The elephant stood silent. The mosquito thought, "Silence is acceptance, and hence the elephant is silent." He stayed many years thus. He would fly in and out; he bred his young ones and his family increased considerably. In spite of this, there was ample place even to entertain guests! Then the mosquitoes decided to find another place for their king. Before leaving, the mosquito stood once again before the elephant's ear and said, "Listen O beast! I, the king of the mosquitoes, had graciously adorned your ear by making it my royal residence. Now I go!" But there was not a sound from the elephant. Should he take this silence as a sign of acceptance, even now? This was rather difficult and degrading. But perhaps the elephant has not heard, for he neither says yes nor does he say no! The mosquito called out louder and louder. At last a faint voice reached the elephant's ears -- "I, the king of mosquitoes. stayed within your ear out of great compassion. Can you hear me or not?"
The elephant replied: "Respected Sir, I do not know when you came How long you stayed, I do not know. You come and stay, do whatever you like, I have no knowledge of it!"
The Tibetan Fakir tells this story with a purpose.
Man comes into the world. He creates philosophies. Religious Paths, Truth, Principles and words. He shouts from all the four corners of the vast existence: "Listen ye all -- Ram is His name!" or, "Listen ye all -- Krishna is His name!" The skies are silent That Infinite Expanse has no knowledge of this. The elephant did finally hear the mosquito, for in spite of the great difference in size there is no qualitative difference between the two -- the elephant is a giant mosquito and the mosquito is a diminutive elephant. There is no qualitative difference to make communication impossible. It is possible, though with some difficulty. The mosquito will have to speak very loudly and the elephant will have to hear more intently. But this is not impossible.
But between Existence and the mind of man there is not even this little bit of connection -- or is there? It is not aware of the fact that we are born, though we proclaim it with feast and music to all the world; nor is it conscious of our death! We come and we go; we are like the line drawn over water -- no sooner are we formed than we are destroyed. But in this very short period between the line's formation and extinction, God knows how many words we create, how many Shastras and Organisations we create! We spread a whole web of our mind within such a short period.
Lao Tzu cuts this web. 'Not this, not this', is his way of telling. In fact, he who wants to talk in connection with the Absolute will have to say, that nothing can be said in connection with it. And then efforts will have to be made to express; and that effort can only be in the form of negation -- 'not this, not this'. The path that can be trodden? No, not that Path. The word that can be named? No, not that word. And don't you fall into the errors of language! According to language -- that alone is a name which can be named. We can speak no other name. And the path that can be trodden, that alone is Path -- we know of no other. Now if this is placed correctly, you will be surprised at the result! For in straight and simple language, it will convey that: No path is a path; no name is a name. So what you will understand directly, is only this: that which is a way, is not the way at all; that which is a name, is not a name at all!
This is what Lao Tzu is trying to convey. He says, "If you wish to reach, beware of all paths, or you will go astray. If you wish to know him, call out to Him -- take no name or you will go amiss." And the slightest error is an infinite blunder in context with this.
A youth came and sat before Marpa. He is with Marpa for the last three years. He tells Marpa: "Show me the way! Give me some idea of His whereabouts -- some name, some sign, some symbol!" And every time he asked him about His whereabouts, Marpa would become silent even amidst conversation! Then the youth would plead again, "Why do you always become silent when I ask you? You were speaking right now!" Marpa would then shut his eyes and become all the more silent. If the youth accosts him with the same question while he is walking, he would stop suddenly where he was and become absolutely still.
The disciple reached the end of his patience within three years. "This is the limit!" He would exclaim. "Normally you walk but as soon as I question, you stop there and then! Normally you talk but as soon as I question, you shut your eyes and seal your lips! I have come for this question only to you and not to hear your other sermons or take part in your various travels. I have nothing to do with these!" But again Marpa strikes his typical pose when this question is raised! Then one day the youth asked his permission to leave. "May I go?" He asked, "When did you ever come?" Marpa replied "Since three years, you are wandering outside the gate. When do you ever come in? Whom are you asking for permission to leave? Not for a moment have I felt that you have come within! So many times I stood with the gates wide open. So many times I stopped thinking perhaps you do not come because I am walking. Whenever you asked, I answered." The disciple said: "This is now really the limit! This is my complaint that whenever I asked, you became quiet. Even in the midst of conversation you became silent and now you blame me for this too? This is precisely why I want to leave you, -- that you become silent whenever I ask."
Marpa replied: "That was the answer. Would that you too had become silent! Would that you too had stopped when I stopped walking! Then we could have met! One has to be silent if one wants to convey something about him. If you want another to tread his Path, you have to halt." These statements seem contradictory.
Lao Tzu too is like this. At every step he discards each and everything He takes you to that point where there is nothing left to discard -- not even you! Only all emptiness remains. And this Emptiness is the Unaltered, the Immutable. Remember, wherever anything comes, alteration comes along with it. There is no holiness besides Emptiness. There is no state more innocent besides Emptiness. A slight trembling of a single thought and the gates of Hell fall wide open. A slight line of thought in the mind and that begins the mundane world. A slight corner of a desire, starts the infinite circles of life and death. Emptiness -- complete Emptiness -- there is not a single form within or a word or a name; there is no path, no destination; there is nowhere to go, nowhere to reach; nothing to attain! When such a state forms within, then Tao manifests. Then the Way manifests itself; then that Name is heard! Then the enduring and unchanging Law, comes within our understanding. That Law which is not opposed to chaos; which absorbs and holds chaos also within its bosom.
If anyone wishes to ask some question, he may do so -- any other question, for all questions are alike.
One friend asks that behind the passing thoughts, it sometimes feels as if there is a short interval of No-Thought. All around thoughts revolve but somewhere at the centre there is this feeling of No-Thought. What is the difference between this condition and the absolute No-Thought condition?
As long as thoughts race within, the thought of No-Thought is also a thought. It is merely a thought that: I am 'Thought-less'. On the one hand there is the movement of thoughts within and on the other, I think I am 'thought-less'. But you can only visualise this state when there are no thoughts within. What is most interesting is the fact that when your mind is in a No-Thought condition, you will not even be aware that there are no thoughts within! To be thought-less is also a thought. It is just like a perfectly healthy man -- he is never conscious of the fact that he is healthy. The consciousness of health is an indication of sickness. Therefore we find, that a sick person always talks of health. Such a man is not healthy, he is sick. If sickness persists in some corner, the idea of health lingers within. Many a time this consciousness of health proves to be a new type of illness. If a person becomes too conscious of health, he becomes ill. This is a disease. So it happens that by incessant thinking. by hearing continuously, by regular pondering over it, you develop this expectation of becoming 'Thought-less'. For we have heard that that alone is holy, that alone is the ultimate Bliss, that in itself is the joy of Samadhi, that everything else pales in significance before this supreme bliss. Then this becomes a desire -- the desire to become 'Thought-less'. Remember the 'No-Thought' condition cannot be turned into a desire -- but it invariably becomes so.
In fact, it is the mind's policy to turn whatever you say into a desire. It says, "Beatitude? There is joy in beatitude. strive for it, seek and you shall attain!" So the search for liberation begins but the liberation the mind seeks, is not the actual liberation. Actually, beatitude is there where the mind is not. That is why, the beatitude sought by the mind is not the authentic beatitude. Now hearing of the No-Thought state continuously, the idea gets fixed in the mind that one should become 'Thought-less'. Remember -- "that I should become 'thought-less'" is also a thought. This thought may be the result of hearing Lao Tzu or hearing me or by reading books but what have you of this no-mind state save a thought? There is no thought to take you into No-Thought. There is no need to commit this error. To be 'thought-less' is also a mode of thought.
No -- this is one kind of thought and if you persist in pursuing this thought, the mind will deceive you in another way. It will say, "See, at the centre of all these revolving thoughts, there is the No-mind state; and you are outside these thoughts. But what is this 'I' that stands outside and watches? Is it more than a thought? This standing apart and watching is also a thought which gives a little feeling of peace and joy. But this serenity is not the immortal tranquillity. The serenity that can be named, is no serenity. Unfortunately there is some joy, some peace in this thought which invariably results when any desire of the mind is gratified. This was a desire of the mind -- to become 'thought-less'. It gives great satisfaction to the mind to feel that it has performed the feat of becoming 'Thought-less' also. The mind is very clever.
The mind will create a small thought of 'Thoughtless-ness' in one corner and thoughts revolve all around. And it would not be proper to say, there are thoughts all around for there where I say 'I am thoughtless', there too a thought stands. At the most you can say, there is one fixed thought there, whereas the others are flowing -- the thoughts of every day activities. If we observe this thought at the centre more deeply, we will find, it too is not completely static, for no thought is completely static. It flickers too, like the flame of a lamp. One moment you will feel you are thought-less, the next moment you will feel, you are not! One moment you will feel a thought creeping within, the next moment again, you will feel you are thoughtless -- you are lost!
This will keep on happening for no thought can be outside of alternation, not even the thought that, 'I am thoughtless.' This thought also will keep fluctuating -- up and down, now here, now there. For a moment you feel you are thoughtless and soon again you feel, you are 'thoughtless' no more. No, Tao, is not the name of such a state. Rit, (That, which is as It is) is a different thing altogether. There are no thoughts around, not even the thought of No-Thought. No one remains who can assert that he is in the No-Mind state. There is no one within -- there is complete silence. There is not even the knower who can say, "See, I am completely quiet." If this much still remains, then know that the mind is yet trying out its last deception; and this deception will throw you back once again into the whirlpool of thoughts. A single moment of this thought of being thoughtless and you are back again into the deepest of hells. This one thought can be likened to the game of snakes and ladders the children play. They keep moving forward, till they enter the snake's mouth and go hurtling down to its tail! A single thought of being thoughtless and you fall in the snake's mouth, you go down, down -- all the steps you had so laboriously climbed -- all your labour turns to naught!
Therefore, Bodhidharma had once said to the King: "I do not know. I do not know myself, who is standing before you." Someone told him later, that the king was terribly pained by his answer. He felt insulted. He should not have treated a king thus. Bodhidharma said, "Because he was a king, and because he had taken a long journey just to see me, I gave even that much of an answer; or else, even this much of an answer was wrong. That too is not present within me, which can say! I do not know who I am." I had to say this much, or else the king would have been troubled more by my silence. Please do not misunderstand me. It was out of consideration for the trouble he took to come so far and for the fact that he was awaiting my coming since years, I had to give him some answer. It was just as we would give a toy to an eager child, that I gave this answer to him."
As long as thoughts keep whirling within, know that you too, are a thought. Once nothing is left within, not even the knower, then there is no difficulty. This seems very difficult to us; and this was the greatest difficulty in understanding Buddha in this country. The reason why Buddha was understood in China was because of Lao Tzu. Because of Lao Tzu, Buddha was understood in China. Lao Tzu had said all that Buddha said later. Therefore when Buddha's tidings reached China and the people heard his words that the soul does not exist -- people understood.
Lao Tzu's teachings were based on the statement: "There is nothing." This was difficult to be digested by Indians. We are ready to concede that thoughts should be extinct -- but 'I' should exist! Liberation is very good -- but 'I' must be! 'I' must remain. Buddha pronounced in this country: "Even the Soul is not. This also is a thought." Understand this a little.
That, 'I am the soul,' is also a thought. Verily, there is a place where even this thought is not -- and That is the Soul! This seems very contrary, that where even the thought that, 'I am the Atman', is absent, that is the very Atman! But this will manifest by itself. You begin to negate things one by one till ultimately you negate yourself. It is like this: A lamp burns, there is a flame. The flame first burns up the oil. The oil finishes then the flame burns up the wick. Then you know what happens? The flame is no more. The flame first burns up the oil, then the wick and then its own self.
Leave the thoughts first; then leave your own self too. When we let-go of our own self, nothing is left behind except a formless condition -- a formless Existence. A silent, tranquil power, that is Existence, remains: where no eddy of the ego is formed. The peculiarity of an eddy is, that whatever you throw into it, it quickly grabs and throws into its vortex. The 'I' is a whirlpool. Throw what you will in it and it will start whirling immediately. No eddy remains in the No-Thought, No-Ego state. Then there is the experience of Tao, the experience of Dharma or the experience of that which Buddha refers to as 'Dhamma'. There is the experience of 'the Law'; there is experience of That which the Rishis refer to as 'Rit' (That Which Is) or what Mahavira refers to as 'Kaivalya'. Kaivalya means -- Nothing is saved. Only 'the being' remains -- where there are no denominations no attributes. Only Existence remains.
Just being -- just as we would peep into a deep hole or look at the open skies where there are no stars, no clouds -- only the sky. When such a state happens within, where the viewer too, is no more and only the Emptiness remains, then we become aware of the Path which cannot be trodden and which is enduring. Then is known the Truth, that cannot be named, which is immortal. which is forever the same, which alone is Itself.
When Tertullian, the devotee of Jesus, was urged to speak on Jesus, to describe him, to give examples to explain what Jesus was like, he used to reply, "Do not force me to err. Jesus was just as He was. He was just like himself." He could not be compared to another. What will happen in the state of Tao; what will happen by merging in the 'Rit'; what will we be like; what will be our shape and our form; what will be our name and will someone remain or not remain to know? Nothing can be said -- there is nothing that can be likened to this state. All words are negative. Only this much can be said: that you will be no more -- you will not be there at all! What remains is that, which you have never known before. This much can be said that there will be no thought there, not even the thought that 'I am thoughtless'. And yet, a consciousness remains -- such Consciousness, as you have never known before.
The mind is capable of all trickeries and deceptions before this. Therefore it is most necessary to be alert. The mind is so clever and subtly cunning that it can work up all kinds of guiles and deceits. It gives a sex-ridden mind, the illusion of Brahmacharya. It creates the deception of Self-knowledge into one who is completely ignorant of the Self. He who knows nothing. feels himself all-knowing by the trickery of the mind which gives the illusion of having attained that which has not been attained. It is therefore necessary to understand the various forms of deceptivity of the mind.
A youth came to the Zen Fakir Huang Po and said: "I have attained serenity." "Why have you come here then?" Huang asked. "Go, away, for here I treat only those who are untranquil." The youth found it impossible to leave for he felt Huang Po to be serene in quite a different way. He said, "No. I not go. Allow me to stay here a few days.
Huang Po said, "There is no permission for tranquil people to stay here. Go, ponder -- are you really tranquil? I do not feel you could have undertaken this long journey of 200 miles, just to tell me that you have become tranquil; and if you have, the matter is finished. The Lord be praised and may you really become tranquil! But I suggest you go outside and ponder over the question." The youth began to step out of the room but Huang stops him: "Stop! There is no need to go out. Come back. If you have to ponder whether you are serene or not, then you better come in. Your hesitation has given you away. The fact that you ae going to ponder whether you are restless or not, is restlessness enough. Wherever there is choice, there is restlessness. You are definitely restless and I can be of use to you. But only when you understand your mind's clever deception, can I be of any help to you."
You are restless and your mind has tricked you into believing that you are tranquil. You know nothing and you say you know of the Atman within. You know nothing and yet you say, God created the world and that the Soul is immortal. He who falls prey to the deceptions of the mind, will never know that which is worth knowing. That he should not know, is exactly why the mind creates so many deceptions. As long as you are aware of the movement of thoughts within, you should know that the mind has made two divisions within itself: one part motivates the thoughts and the second part creates the thought that -- 'I am thoughtless'. This is the duality of the mind alone.
The truth is, there is no duality outside of the mind. Outside of mind, is the undivided whole. There is no experience of the Absolute -- not even so much that you can say: "It is like this". At the most what you can say is: "It is not like this; it is not like that".
Enough for to-day, we shall talk again to-morrow.
 
THEREFORE:
ALWAYS STRIPPED OF PASSION WE MUST BE FOUND
IF LIFE'S SECRET WE WOULD SOUND;
BUT IF PASSION ALWAYS WITHIN US BE,
ITS OUTER FRINGE IS ALL THAT WE SHALL SEE.

The path that can be trodden upon, is not the Path. The Truth that can be investigated, is not the Truth.
The Creator of Existence is without any name and the Name is the mother of all substance.
After the first two sutras (quoted above) the third sutra of Lao Tzu starts with Therefore. This therefore is first to be understood before we proceed to the sutra. It looks strange -- the first two sutras bear no relationship with the third sutra, which could justify the use of therefore. Truth cannot be expressed in words. The Path that is, cannot be trodden upon. Nameless is Existence; the world of substance is the world of denomination. Therefore -- the mind steeped with desires, can never know the bottomless depths where lies the secret of existence. It can only know the fringe of existence.
The word therefore can only be used if that which follows, is a natural outcome of the preceding statements. If the third statement is a corollary of the first two statements, then alone can 'therefore' be used. But what is the connection between a mind filled with passion and a mind filled with words? What can be the connection of a Path that cannot be trodden, which cannot be given a name, to a mind filled with passion? This is not apparently clear; it is inevident. Therefore, it will be very difficult to understand this word therefore, as used by Lao Tzu.
Let us first examine the connection. Actually, he who is filled with desires, wishes to reach somewhere. The very desire to reach is passion. If I am happy to be myself and accept myself as I am, all paths become useless for me. Then there is no path for me. If I have not to go anywhere, if I have not to reach anywhere then there is no need no purpose, for a path for me. If I have to reach somewhere go somewhere; if I have to be something attain something then paths become inevitable. If I have not to travel anywhere, what meaning can paths have for me? But if we want to take a journey. then paths become meaningful. Whatever paths we create are all paths of desires, of passions. No path is ever created without a desire, although, the desire is not concerned with the passage at all. Passion is concerned with the destination only. But no destination can be reached without a route. So no desire can be fulfilled without following a path. Some means are always necessary to fulfill a desire.
Passion is the aspiration to reach somewhere. Some distant star keeps shining on the horizon of a passion -- ridden mind and beckons to it: "Come hither, there is happiness, there is joy, there is peace, where I am. Where you stand, there is no joy, no peace." Now there is a great distance between us and the skies, and we have perforce, to find a way to connect the two. Then it makes no difference whether we pave the path with wealth or with religion, whether we travel inwards or outwards. It makes no difference whether we aspire for worldly gains or seek the doors of beatitude and God through that path. If our desti-nation is outside and away from us, we have to make a path to join us to our goal. Then the path becomes inevitable.
And Lao Tzu says: "The path that can be trodden upon, is not the Path." But a mind filled with desires, is bound to tread on paths. So it means, that whatever path a desire-ridden mind follows, is not the real Path. It is only the wrong paths that can be trodden. We have not to walk on the actual Path. Really speaking, the ambition to reach anywhere is an erroneous aspiration -- anywhere unconditionally. It is not that the ambition of amassing wealth alone is a wrong ambition or the ambition of winning the whole world is a wrong ambition -- No; even the ambition of attaining beatitude, is equally wrong. Actually as soon as the question of attainment comes in, the mind is filled with tension and becomes restless.
A mind filled with passion is never where it is but keeps forever wandering where it is not. This is a very impossible situation. I am not where I am but am always wandering where I am not. Then it is but natural that I am filled with anguish. I am tense, for I can only be at ease where I actually am; where I am not, I cannot relax. It is necessary however, that in order to be where I am, my mind should not desire to be elsewhere -- it should not be taking flights to distant lands!
Hence Lao Tzu says: "Therefore a mind filled with passion, a mind filled with desires, cannot open the doors to the deep mysteries of existence." It can only be acquainted with the outer fringe; the inner mysteries remain unknown. The palace of existence remains unknown and the desiring mind lives out its life taking the outer walls to be authentic. It is bound to do so.
For the palace is here and now; and the desirous mind is always somewhere else. It is never here and now. It is lost in dreams. It is not that if the mind satisfies a particular desire there will be any sizable change in the situation. If I am here today, I think of being somewhere else; then when I reach that place, the mind will sow fresh seeds of desire for some other place. So we keep running. This is a very interesting race where one destination starts off a new race for another destination -- and there is no end!
Actually, that which we thought to be the destination, we discover to be a temporary encampment. Before reaching, it seems that everything will be attained by reaching the goal and on reaching we find it was only the beginning -- there is much farther to go. Therefore we are never at peace, even for a moment. Lao Tzu has purposely used the word 'therefore' to imply a calculated inference. And the conclusion arrived at is that: "ALWAYS STRIPPED OF PASSION WE MUST BE FOUND," with all passions, uprooted, uncovered. We should strip ourselves of desires as one would peel an onion, layer by layer till nothing remains in the end.
Do you think you will remain, if you remove all your desires? Are you anything more than a collection of desires? If all your layers are removed like the layers of an onion, what will you be but a zero? You are what you have desired to be -- a collection of your desires. Think what will remain if all your desires fall off -- A mere emptiness -- Nothing! But it is this 'No-thing' from which the door to Existence opens.
In fact, all doors open through the void.
You build a house. You make a door in it. Have you ever thought what a door is? The door is merely an emptiness. Where you have not built the wall, the door is. The actual interpretation of a door would be -- where there is nothing. You cannot enter through the wall. You can enter only through the door. What is the meaning of the door? The door means where there is the void; where there is nothing, you enter from there. Where there is something, you cannot enter. Now this is an interesting thing: You cannot enter a house through the house. Entrance is only possible from where there is nothing: mere emptiness. The door means, where the house is not. Whatever is besides the door, is the house.
Till such time that we discover just such emptiness within ourselves, till then, we cannot enter the acme of the mystery of existence. The castle of existence will remain unknown and unfamiliar to us.
"Rip off the layers of desires," says Lao Tzu. Not a single layer should remain. We do sometimes, peel off the layers of desire, but only when we have formed other and bigger ones than before. We leave one desire only when it is replaced by another, when it is fully complemented. Actually. we leave a desire only, when we come across a bigger and better desire. We break small houses in order to build bigger ones. We leave smaller assignments for bigger ones. We too let go of desires but only when a bigger rampart is in sight, do we let go of smaller walls.
Sometimes it also happens that we leave the entire frame of human desires. A man who sought wealth, position, fame, leaves everything. He climbs down from his high office, renounces wealth, he renounces his clothes and becomes naked and he says, "I now set out in search of God." He renounces all worldly things but then his eyes are set towards a very vast attainment. He destroys all worldly attainments. Now no one can say that he is after wealth or position or fame.
But if we ponder on the word 'ISHWARA', we shall know the secret. The word Ishwara is derived from 'AISHWARYA', which means glory, grandeur, majesty and super-human power. The ultimate 'Aishwarya' is 'Ishwara'. Now he is after that grandeur and majesty that are endless. Now he seeks wealth that cannot be stolen. He is after that acquirement that death cannot take away from him. But still it is a search all the same. Now he is out to seek a position from which he has not to climb down; he is after that fame that never dies. The search continues all the same, it is only that he has given a new name to his seeking -- Ishwara (God). Keep this in mind: no one can make God an object of his desires. If he does, he will not find God. He will only establish his new desires in new forms. Liberation cannot be an object of desire. If it is, he will find it is just a new kind of prison he has created -- beautiful, inlaid with gold, filled with flowers but a prison all the same. Actually desires cannot lead us outside of prison. Wherever there is desire, there is bondage.
Lao Tzu says: "Remove, tear off each layer of your passionate desires." Why? for it you want to measure the bottomless depths where lie the mysteries of existence, you shall have to be desire-less. To be desireless means -- devoid of all desires. The desire for tranquility, the desire for meditation and Sadhana remain even when other desires are gone. The mind is very clever. It says: "It is perfectly alright; you do not want wealth, hut meditation you want. You do not want position but you do want peace!" The mind lives not in wealth or position, the mind lives in desiring. Therefore, any topic is good enough for the mind. Let there be an aim -- of what sort does not matter to the mind. Desireless-ness means desiring nothing. Beware, the mind's deceptions are very subtle! So much so that it can make you desire to be desireless also! It will goad you to desire to be desire-less. This way by standing behind your desireless-ness, it can exist.
Somewhere in Gitanjali, Ravindranath has sung to the Lord:
I desire nothing from you. My only wish is, that no desire remains in my mind." This makes no difference to the desire -- none whatsoever. If you were to examine deeply, you will find that the person who wishes for ten thousand rupees or a big house, his desire is nothing compared to the desire of Ravindranath. What is the worth of his desire when compared to Ravindranath's? Ravindranath says: "I want nothing save desirelessness." This is the ultimate desire, last and very subtle. And Lao Tzu says "Be desireless. Rip off all desires -- rip them off to the last breath of your life."
A Sadhaka once approached Lao Tzu and said: "I want peace." "You will never get it," Lao Tzu replied. The youth was startled, "What have I done, what is there in me such that I cannot attain peace?" Lao Tzu then explained: "As long as you wish for peace, you will not get it. I too desired for a long time and ultimately discovered that the desire for tranquility becomes so great a dissatisfaction. that no restlessness is greater than this. There-fore, give up the idea of desiring peace."
I remember another incident: A Sadhaka went up to Lechee and said: "I have left everything." Lechee replied: "Be kind enough to leave this also. Then you may come." The youth said: "I have left everything." Lechee says: "There is no need to hold on to this much also." The feeling of desirelessness is so very subtle. The youth again insists: "But I have left everything." Lechee says: "Leave this much also. Why have you kept this much back?" The youth replies, "I have kept nothing back. There is nothing left with me." Lechee says: "Do not hold on to this also." Desire, wishes and longings capture us from many directions. To be desireless means: "I accept myself as I am." If I am restless, I am restless. If I am uneasy I am uneasy. If I am in captivity, I accept that I am in captivity. If I am in misery, I am in misery. The total acceptability of myself as I am. There is no question of my being an inch otherwise. I am what I am. Then there is no motivation. Then how can any journey start? Then how can the mind goad you to go here, attain there? Then what I am, I am.
The quintessence of Tao is 'Tathata,' acceptability. Where there is total acceptability, there is the condition of desirelessness. The slightest unacceptability, gives rise to desire. Then longing and passion follow in its wake. Then the race begins. Mind you, longing is born out of unacceptability. We all, live in our longings. If you probe into each desire of yours you will soon come to know, which non-acceptability has given birth to which desire. Which thing you wished was not as it is, which ought to have otherwise, which ought to have been different and what desire accrued therefrom?

A funeral procession was passing by Nasruddin s house. Someone has died and all the reputed gentry of the village were in the procession. As they passed Mulla Nasruddin's house, they all raised their hands in salute to him, for he was widely respected in his village.
The Mulla's wife who was standing at the door, saw this. She ran in and told the Mulla that someone of consequence had died and the gentry in the funeral procession were saluting as they passed the Mulla's house! "It is possible," says Nasruddin. "I heard the noise but I had turned the other side. And you know the dead man s wrong habits! He could have died an hour later, when I would have turned the other side!" That was a joke of Nasruddin on mankind. He says, "I was facing the other way. There was no question of turning sides to accept their greetings!"
At one time, the people of his village thought, that Nasruddin was in a bad way. They gathered some money and went to present it to him. He was lying straight on his back, under the open skies, beneath a tree. One of them came forward and offering the bag of money said: "Nasruddin, we heard you were in difficulty. We have brought some money for you. Please accept it." Nasruddin tells him: "Please come after some time. The fact is, my pocket is under my back. When I turn upside down you may come and put the money in it."
Nasruddin's jokes are very subtle hints of man's failings. He was a priceless man.
If we go deep into the nature of desirelessness, we shall know that everything is acceptable (in that condition) as it is and how it is. There is not the slightest desire for it to be otherwise. "In the absence of such a desire," Lao Tzu says, "the mysteries of existence and its bottomless depths can be touched." And it is in the depths that Existence actually is. On the surface is the mere fringe of existence, the outer lines. If supposing I touch you, I will go back and say I touched you and invariably this is what we say. The fact is I have only touched your outer form and not you. The outer form of your body is not vou. It is only a boundary-line between you and the world. You are deep within the deepest within. All else is an outside arrangement within which you can be. It is only your house, your mantle.
If we know others by their outward appearance, it is pardonable. We see our own selves also only from the outside. We feel and touch our own selves also from the outside.
We can feel the whole existence only from the outside and Lao Tzu says, "It is because of the passion-ridden mind." It is important to understand this well. Why can not a mind filled with passion, go deep? There are three reasons: One is, -- A mind filled with passion cannot stay in one place for more than a moment, therefore it cannot dig within. A passion-ridden mind, is a fleeing mind, it cannot stop a moment anywhere. And to descend within one self, you have to dig within. Now you cannot dig a well by running with a pick-axe in your hand! At the most you will remove a few stones here and there and spoil the road by making pot-holes all over but you will never dig a well. To dig a well you have to dig in one place with all your strength and with all your patience and this, a mind that is always running cannot do. This mind is always a step ahead of you. As the shadow walks behind you, the mind flits before you. It works up visions of distant lands as yet ahead of you. So a passion -- ridden mind does not stop anywhere and without stopping, no depths can be reached.
Secondly, a passion-ridden mind is never in 'the Present' -- never. And life is always in 'the Present'. A mind steeped in desires remains always in the future. If Existence is to be felt, it must be felt in this very moment, but the desiring mind says "Everything is hidden in the moments ahead. Where I shall reach tomorrow, there is nothing but bliss and untold treasures! Today? -- There is nothing in the present day!" The passionate mind is always dejected about the present and eager about the future. The secret of Life lies in the Present. In fact in Existence, there is only the Present -- there is neither past nor future. Existence is always Present. Existence always is.
Past and future are the simulations of a desiring mind. The mind stores the past carefully, for the journey into the future, depends entirely on the past. Therefore, what we call the future is a repetition of our past only. It is a reflection, a projection of the past only. Whatever has been attained in the past, we try to attain again and again in the future, with a slight modification. So we safeguard our past in order to create our future. But the past is a mere recollection, not existence and the future is a mere conception and not existence. The future is a dream that is still to happen and the past is a dream that has already happened. But That, which forever is, is neither the past nor the future; it is the present.
It would not, however, be correct to call it strictly the Present, for that we refer to as present, which is between the past and the future. Now if the past is false and the future is false, there cannot be a reality in-between the two. There is no means for the existence of Reality between two falsities. Therefore, it would be better to say that there is no present also -- Only Existence, Eternity, Immortality, Is, where nothing is destroyed and nothing made and where everything Is. It is a full state of Beingness, and he who enters into this 'Being-ness' this 'is-ness' he alone can touch the fathomless depths of Existence.
The desiring mind will keep running along the circumference. It will take delight in the past and project dreams for the future. It will have its roots in the past and spread its branches in the future in the hope for the flowers that will never come. And Existence? Existence that is Now is flowing away every minute. It is now, here, this very moment!
Now the third reason:
Life is the closest proximity. Perhaps this too is not strictly correct, for we ourselves are existence. Therefore if it were in the closest proximity, it would still be at a distance from us. We are Existence itself. A desiring mind is a search for the far-away; whereas Existence is closer than the closest proximity. A desiring mind is farther away than the farthest and these two never meet. Kipling says in one of his poems: "Oh East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet." Perhaps it is possible for East and West to meet but mind and Existence can never meet. Therefore, he who is filled with the mind is devoid of Existence and he whose mind is empty, is filled with Existence.
Now we are filled with the mind, so it is a difficult question for us, whether we have any knowledge of existence or not. No, we have no knowledge of existence whatsoever. We have taken our mind for our existence and this is as good as someone taking pebbles to be diamonds. It is just as if someone would take the fallen dry leaves of a tree to be flowers and never raise his eyes to see the actual ones above; and he would gather these dry leaves that are useless and treasure them! The mind is the collection of ashes of the past. As a traveller's clothes get filled with dust, so also the dust that collects as we pass through existence, forms the mind. And it is with this collection of piles of dust, that we think about the future.
Lao Tzu wants to cut out the very roots of the mind. Therefore Lao Tzu says: "Freedom from desires," for where desires are not, the mind cannot exist. Desire is the root. If you ask Buddha, he will say: "Avarice". Where ambition is not where avarice is not, there everything is. It is an apt word -- Avarice and Lao Tzu refers to it as desiring, passion. Mahavira calls it 'Distraction, error'. Different words have been used by different people but the roots that have to be destroyed, are the same.
He who desires -- anything -- cannot step out of the mind. He who desires nothing stands outside of the mind -- this very moment! He has not to wait for another day. This very moment, if you summon enough courage to desire nothing this very moment you will stand outside the blind state of countless lives you have lived. This very moment! But beware of beguilement! Deception is not possible for the only reason that it is almost impossible to step out of the mind. Beguilement is possible because you do not know and understand the secrets of the mind. You will bear me and say to yourself "If it is possible, why not step out this very moment? I must step out this minute." Then you create the desire of step out of the mind, in order to be tranquil, to attain bliss, to attain the secrets of Existence. If you give this also a form of desire, you will go astray again.
There was a Sufi fakir by the name of Byajid. When he first went to his guru, he was in the habit of sleeping a great deal. When the guru taught, he would be fast asleep. If he was sent to guard the gate. Byajid would fall asleep there also. The guru explained to him: "Look Byajid, you will lose everything by sleeping." Byajid replied, "It is not that I am asleep all the time. I sleep sometime and I am awake sometime." But the guru said: "You do not know. Many a time it happens, that a person keeps awake all the time and then if his eyes close just for a moment, everything is lost."
Then one night Byajid dreams that he is dead and is standing at the gates of paradise. The door is closed and it bears small placard which says: "He who wishes to enter, may wait here. The door opens once every thousand years and for one moment only. Be alert and wait." Byajid was perturbed. The door opened just for a moment, once in a thousand years -- and sleep was bound to overpower him! He gathered himself together and with great effort he managed to keep his eyes open. But in spite of this, he dozed off. When he awoke he saw the gates just closing. He ran but the door had closed already! He waited another thousand years. Then one day as he dozed, he heard that the door had opened. But the mind said: "You are dreaming. The gates do not open just like that! The thousand years are yet not over." Byajid however got out of his sleep, frightened and confused. He saw the gates were closed. Then he awoke and found it was all a dream.
Byajid ran straight to his guru. though it was mid-night. He fell at his feet and said: "Now I shall not even blink!" "What happened?" Asked the guru. He told him about his dream. The guru said, "Did you not read the notice on the other side of the door?" "No" said Byajid "Both the times the doors were almost closed when I awoke."
His guru said, "When the dream comes again make it a point to read what is written on the other side. It says, "This door open only when you are asleep." The door opens when we are unconscious. What could such a term of condition mean? The truth is, (which Byajid's guru did not tell him), as we go deep within, we find that when the doors open, we become unconscious, and this is due to the mind. So it is not that the doors open when we are unconscious; rather, when the doors open, we become unconscious. The reason for this is, that once we see the doors open, there is no way to keep the mind alive. So the mind invents a thousand ways to save itself.
It was only the day before yesterday that a youth came to me. He had come to me before. Then he was tormented by the restlessness of the mind, its uneasiness, its confusion. This time his anxiety was different. He said, "My mind is becoming peaceful with meditation. It is now less uneasy but a new fear has caught hold of me. Now I am not sure whether I should go further in. I may lose all interest in the pleasures of life, I may lose all sense of competition and ambition. Then how will I progress in life?" What he says is correct. The mind brings up such questions. The mind invents a thousand deceptions whenever the door opens.
I have tried to go closer to so many people. Whenever their meditation deepens, the mind at once devises excuses and quickly comes out of meditation. It brings within you the fear of upsetting your normal arrangements and warns you against medita-tion.
One person has written to me that he is going deeper into meditation but is afraid of going deeper still for he fears he might die! He wants me to take the responsibility in such a case. I asked him whether death was not going to come to him without meditation. I told him that if he is certain that death will not come to him if he does not meditate, then I take the responsibility. But since death is bound to come even without meditation, whey does he throw the responsibility on me? Some others write and express their fears -- "Is it possible that we might lose our sanity in meditation?"
The mind quickly invents excuses. As soon as you reach the door, the mind warns: "This much and no more. Go back!" I used to explain to people that merely changing one's clothes and changing one's name or taking sannyas brings no change in a person. Then they would come and beg for some external support to help them to go within -- "If you do not give us some aid -- a mala, an image, clothes, a temple or some exercise like fasting. how can we go in? Give us something to go by."
So I agreed to give outside support. Now these very people come and say: "What can happen by changing clothes? What change will the mala bring about? How will pooja, prayers and Kirtan help? These are all external things. At times I am distressed at the way man's mind works. The same man gives both opposing views and still it does not occur to him that it is his mind saying both the things! When he is asked to go within. his mind says: "How can you go within without any tangible help?" When he is given an outside aid, his mind says: "How can an outside agency help? You have to go within." And the most wonderful part is, that our foolishness is so sound that we fail to understand the trickery of our mind. Every time we make an effort to awaken, the mind promptly devises ways of putting us back to sleep and these excuses are at times so paltry. so trivial.
A friend came to me today and said: "You always say one should not give pain to others. If I put on the clothes of a sannyasin, my wife will be pained." So I asked him: "When did you hear me?" He said, "Ten years ago." Have you given no cause for complaint to your wife in these ten years? If so, I consider you a sannyasin already. There is no need for you to change your clothes." He said: "I cannot say, I gave no cause for complaint to my wife." In that case, I said, "You never came, and asked me for other pains you inflicted on your wife. You merrily went about causing her pain and now you have become so considerate of your wife's feelings when it comes to changing your clothes?" Man's foolishness is incomparable! For everything else, this man is ready to do as he pleases without a twinge of conscience but when it comes to taking sannyas -- oh, he is so considerate of those around him!
What is most confounding is, that we never step aside and watch our mind, how it tricks us into sleep. It brings forth such excuses as seem very correct. But this wife is just an excuse. The mind is the real thing and it is the mind that prompts. when eyeing the neighbour's wife, the mind puts forth no pious suggestions! Then it said on the contrary: "What wife, what love? These are all make-shift arrangements. Who really is your own in this world?" Then the wife is shelved in a corner, out of sight!
But as soon as any step is taken to go beyond the mind. the mind quickly comes forward with a hundred plausible suggestions to put us back to sleep. The door of paradise does open but the mind quickly puts us off with a thousand excuses.
Lao Tzu says: "Desire is the mind. There is no way of entering the depths of existence without becoming desireless."

Question 1
QUESTION: BHAGWAN SRI, PLEASE EXPLAIN WHETHER THESE STATEMENTS OF LAO TZU ARE NOT MEANT FOR A DEFEATED EXISTENCE. FOR AN ANGUISHED PERSON? IS THERE NOT A NEGATIVE ATTITUDE, A SORT OF DEFEATISM AT THE ROOT OF THESE TEACHINGS? WOULD NOT THESE ETHICS, OF ACCEPTANCE OF THINGS, AS THEY ARE, GIVE LICENCE TO THE GOVERNMENT TO EXPLOIT THE PEOPLE? AND FINALLY, CAN THIS NOT BE CALLED A PURE THEORETICAL IDEALISM? THESE TEACHINGS ARE NOT AT ALL PRACTICAL. THERE ARE NO MEANS OF ATTAINING FREEDOM FROM DESIRES OR OF AWAKENING IN THEM.

Bhagwan Sri: Lao Tzu does not believe in remedies for he says, "Only desires require remedy". No remedy is required for desirelessness. Remedy means a device followed to reach somewhere. A path means an arrangement to connect with a destina-tion -- a bridge or some means of connection.
Lao Tzu says "It is only desires which require a device, a path, effort, struggle." For desireless-ness, understanding is enough. No device, no method is necessary -- according to Lao Tzu. He who understands Lao Tzu's teachings in their entirety needs no methods or principles to go by. All concepts are toys given to the non-understanding; an arrangement to help them to let-go step by step as they are incapable of doing so all at once.
Lao Tzu says: "Understanding alone!" If you become conscious of the labyrinth of the mind, you will step out of it this moment. No other method is necessary. If I know that this cup contains poison, it will automatically drop from my hands. I shall have to make no effort to let it go. If I under-stand well that fire burns, my hand will not go towards it, without any effort on my part.
Remedies and methods are required where there is no understanding. Where there is understanding, they become redundant. Therefore there are two ways: One of method -- of ignorance. The ignorant man says, "I have no knowledge. Show me some technique, some method by-which I can develop my understanding." Ignorance, lack of understanding, demands methods. It cannot exist without them. Comprehension requires no such thing. You understand -- and there the matter ends. It is enough that you understand. There is a reason for this.
People like Lao Tzu think that actually, we are not bound; we only are under an illusion of being bound. We are not ill -- we are simply ignorant. There are two things: One man is ill, he is really ill. An actual illness has caught hold of him. Then he requires medicines, treatment is necessary. But there is another man who is not at all ill but who imagines himself to be ill. Treating such a person with medicines will not prove only costly but also dangerous. There is the possibility of the medicine triggering off new illnesses. This man only needs to understand that he is not ill, he is only suffering from an illusion. If such a man has to be treated, he can be given only sugar pills and water as medicines to console him that he is being treated. Lao Tzu's opinion is -- and it is the right opinion -- that life's difficulty is ignorance. Life itself is not difficult to understand.
We are not really estranged from God -- we only think so. We have not really gone away from life, we only think so. We have not lost the treasures of life, we have only forgotten them. If this is so, then Lao Tzu says, "Where is the need for devices?" There is no question for remedy. Understanding is enough. Understanding is the remedy.
Buddha has said: "For those who do not understand, I have devised methods. For those who understand, I have given them understanding. There the matter ends." This is almost like the case of hundreds of people who visit the psychologists. They have no illness but suffer from the illusion that they are ill; and this makes them more ill than those who are genuinely ill. So they have to be treated. And what is the treatment. What do Freud and Jung do? Nothing, except they help the patient to recount his illness and in the course of this talk, if the patient develops understanding, he manages to step out of his illness; if not he remains within his hallucinations.
The problem of life is not a veritable problem of illness. It is a problem of a pseudo-illness. Therefore, Lao Tzu does not talk of remedies. He says, "Be without help -- without resources -- that is the only remedy. Know, understand and be settled -- this is the only way."
Lao Tzu's instructions are not for the defeated or the despondent. This is interesting and needs to be understood for this question does arise in the mind. People like Lao Tzu sound as if they are escapists. They say: "Desire nothing". If we do not desire, how will we Progress? But how many have progressed by their ambition -- can we count them?
Someone asked Aldous Huxley -- whose three generations had worked for the progress of mankind -- to give a detailed account of whether man had profited by the efforts of his forefathers; whether man was happier, more at peace, more blissful than what he was 5,000 years ago. Huxley said, "If you had asked of my great grandfather, he would have boldly said, 'Yes'. If you had asked my father, he would have hesitated. But I -- I can give no reply!" No: Man is neither happy, nor peaceful nor blissful. There has been a lot of progress otherwise."
From Lao Tzu's talks, it seems all progress will stop; but is man required for progress or progress required for man? If man is required for progress than it is alright that he be sacrificed at the altar of progress. If man dies, let him die but the slow moving 10 miles/hour vehicle must be replaced with the a 100m/ hour vehicle. It does not matter if man lives or dies. The stars and the moon are to be conquered, no matter if the travellers live or die. If progress is the goal then Lao Tzu is wrong. But if man is the goal, his bliss, his savour is the aim, then what Lao Tzu says is 100% correct. The fact is, no matter how much distance is covered-by ambition, we reach nowhere.
Remember, by running it does not mean that you have reached. By running alone one does not reach but the logic of the mind says, if you do not run, you do not reach! Lao Tzu says, "The supreme wealth of Existence can only be experienced and known by he who halts and not by he who runs." It is not Lao Tzu alone who says this. Buddha, Mahavira, Patanjali are of the same opinion. All those who have known have said the same thing. If that is so, all enlightened people are escapists and all ignorant people are progressive.
It is also very interesting that all these ignorant people, who are seemingly progressive, ultimately seek shelter at the feet of some Lao Tzu, begging for peace; whereas, Lao Tzu never goes begging at the fed of the ignorant, for progress. The progressive has always ended up at the feet of the escapist but the escapist has never approached a progressive in search of happiness. This is true without exceptions. Lao Tzu has eyes to see, so has Buddha; they can see how far the progressive has reached, whereas they have lagged behind. And yet, it is the progressive man who seeks refuge at the feet of Buddha or Lao Tzu, and begs to be shown the way to peace and happiness.
No, this is not escapism. It is a matter of condition. Words are not dangerous, their connotations make them so. If my house catches fire and I run out, you can say I am an escapist. In verbal terms, this is correct -- I am forsaking the house for it has caught fire. But it is not wise to stay within a house that has caught fire. If it is sensible to stay within a house on fire then it is an act of bravery to stand before a truck in full speed. He who steps aside at the honk of a speeding truck, is an escapist, for in the hour of trial he is losing courage! If we understand well the conditions of life, we will know that Lao Tzu is not runn-ing away from life. He only steps aside from the follies of life, he is only stepping aside from the fire, the disease. He goes deep within life. We who think that we are going ahead in life are progressing in sheer ignorance alone and are being cheated out of life.
What is the ultimate test? We should compare our face with Lao Tzu's. Lao Tzu is not worried even at the time of death and we are filled with anxiety even when we are alive! Lao Tzu is happy to embrace death and we cannot even embrace life. Lao Tzu laughs in illness, we cry even when we are well. What is the proof? If Lao Tzu is offered thorns, he is filled with gratitude; if someone places a flower in our hands, we do not even feel grateful. No; What is the way through which we can know? What is the measure? Lao Tzu is not an escapist.
And if Lao Tzu is an escapist, everyone should be an escapist. Then escapism should be our religion for Lao Tzu escapes from the futile and enters the purposeful-ness and meaning of life.
It seems as if there is defeatism and despondency in his words. Is he afraid of life? Has he no strength to fight? Perhaps he is weak and therefore he steps aside. But there is no sign of weakness in Lao Tzu. The strength that effuses from people like Lao Tzu, Christ and Buddha is unsurpassable.
Those whom we call progressive gradually begin to show signs of nervousness. Their limbs begin to tremble and they are filled with a thousand fears. The psychologists of America of today say that there are hardly 10% people in America whom they can really call healthy in mind, 90% are mentally ill. If we examine these 10% people, we will find people who are from villages, those who are illiterate, those who live in jungles and are labourers -- all people from the lowest strata of society. As we go to the higher classes, we find the number of sick people increasing proportionately with the amount of progress. What is the reason?
No progressive man can sleep as soundly as Lao Tzu nor can he eat with such joy and relish -- nor can he digest his food so efficaciously. He does not enjoy Lao Tzu's health, nor his fearlessness. He cannot enjoy the silence that is within Lao Tzu nor the ever-flowing stream of bliss within him, which gives no indication of defeat or despondency.
He is not a defeated man -- this Lao Tzu. On the contrary he says: "No one has ever defeated me." And when someone asks the reason why, he says: "Because I have never wished to conquer anyone. I can only be defeated if I am out to conquer somebody. I wish to conquer no one." We might think Lao Tzu is afraid to fight but Lao Tzu says: "I do not wish to fight for there is nothing worth fighting for in your world. The paltry, things you set out to conquer are too ordinary for my consideration. Then why create this fuss of conquering trivial things? If you set out to conquer you will be defeated and even if you win, you gain nothing. If you lose you are burdened with restlessness and distress. So I did not set out to conquer; not that I was afraid of defeat but because there was nothing worth conquering."
The question that rises within our mind is but natural. We feel this can only be the view-point of a pessimist but then a pessimist is a sad and unhappy person whereas Lao Tzu is not an unhappy man. We, the so-called optimists appear unhappy. When the scriptures of Buddha were translated for the first time in the West, they branded him as a pessimist par excellence! For they say he says, "birth is pain, old age is affliction, life is sorrow, death is pain -- everything is pain". But they did not take the trouble of gazing at his face. He is a pessimist, you are an optimist, so there should be signs of happiness on your face. But there is no sign of happiness evident on your face! This man who says "Birth is pain, life is agony, everything gives pain", his bliss knows no bounds!
Then there is certainly some place where we have erred. Buddha says, "Life is sorrow. He who realises this, attains bliss. He who thinks life to be blissful, attains nothing but misery." This calculation of Buddha is very profound. Buddha and Lao Tzu both say: "He who takes life to be happiness, ends up in sorrow, for life is sorrow." If I look upon a thorn as a flower, the thorn is bound to prick me and cause pain, for it is a thorn a nd not a flower; but if I know a thorn to be a thorn, it cannot hurt me. It can only hurt me if I take it to be a flower. Buddha says: "Life is sorrow -- know this. Then no one can snatch your joy away from you." But if you take life as happiness, you will fall into unhappiness for you will have started a chain of illusions.
Lao Tzu is not a pessimist. He is an extreme optimist. He is at the pinnacle of supreme bliss.
There was a famous disciple of Lao Tzu by the name of Chwang-Tse. He was called by the emperor of China to come and be his prime-minister. Chuang-Tse sent back a message to him: "There is no happiness beyond the joy I am in. By making me your prime-minister you will be dragging me down from my heights; for there is no joy beyond this. Now to go forward in any direction, is to go back. To move an inch from where I am, is to lose. There is no greater bliss than that I am in."
You might think this man is mad to lose such a golden opportunity. When the emperor himself calls him to be his prime-minister, he should have grabbed the opportunity. But Chwang-Tse's understanding tells him that if he moved the slightest bit from the supreme bliss he was in, he would fall for there is nothing further beyond it.
When Lao Tzu or Chuang-Tse or anyone else talks of Tathata (That which Is), when they talk of acceptability, it is not out of frustration or distress. It is not also because it is a good thing to be contented in life. The attitude of acceptance comes about for two reasons: One is, a man accepts because there is no way out. Then at least there is consolation. But Lao Tzu's acceptability, is not this explanation of Tathata (That which Is).
Lao Tzu says, "The man who says there is satisfaction in acceptance is as yet refusing to accept, for if there is no denial then where is the dissatisfaction?" I say there is a thorn in my foot. If I am to accept this, at least there will be the satisfaction of acceptance of the fact. It pains, let me accept -- but there is denial behind this acceptance. In truth, my acceptance is a form of non-acceptance. I am in pain, I am in agony but when there is no way out, I close my eyes and accept the fact. Then I console myself that perhaps this too, is a divine mystery; the curse may be a blessing. The glistening flash of lightning lies hidden behind black clouds and the flower hides within the thorns, so happiness hides behind sorrow. But my search is the search of happiness for the bright streak of light; I do not accept the black clouds. And when the night is at its darkest, morn is close by -- but my eyes search only for the dawn! By keeping the desire of dawn, I try to lessen the darkness of the night. I am trying to be contented.
But Lao Tzu does not talk of this Tathata. He says, "Acceptability not for the sake of contentment, rather because non-acceptability is foolishness." Non-acceptance does nothing but drag a man into hell. Lao Tzu stresses more the need to under-stand non-acceptability rather than acceptability. The day I understand clearly that I create my own hell by non-acceptance, that very day non-acceptance will vanish. What then remains will be acceptability. Understand this reasoning.
There is one acceptability which we impose against non-acceptance. There is another acceptability that results on the disappearance of non-acceptability. There is a difference between the two. When there is denial within and we impose acceptance without, a conflict is created. There is denial within and acceptance without: My friend dies. I say to myself, "That is how it is. I shall have to accept the fact. There is no other way." Then I keep telling myself that everyone has to go one day or the other. Death comes to everyone. Who has lived forever in this world? I try to console myself this way but the pain throbs within. The friend is gone, the emptiness troubles. The mind wails within: "This should not have happened. It is bad. it is bad!" From without I console the mind: "Death happens. It has always been happening. We cannot escape it." These two things go on simultaneously. I try to dress the wound from with-out but it remains bleeding within.
Lao Tzu does not advocate such acceptance, or Tathata. He says, "I am not pained at the death of my friend. I only wonder how he remained alive all this time!" Life is an impossible happening. Death is a natural happening. Death is no wonder whereas Life is a wonder.
Lao Tzu says: "How do we manage to remain alive so long?"
I have mentioned Chuang-Tse to you. His wife died. The emperor went to condole him. He found him playing a tambourine on his door-step. His legs out-stretched, he was singing a song. In the morning he bade farewell to his wife and at noon he sits playing the tambourine! The emperor hesitated. He had come prepared with condolences as we usually are when someone dies. We are such experts at this game that we even have the dialogue by heart! We know exactly what is to be said and what would be the answer. So the king was prepared for his part but he found that things were quite the opposite here. The old dialogue would not hold water here. Chuang-Tse was singing and he was filled with joy.
The king however could not with-hold himself. He said: "Chuang-Tse, it is enough that you show no grief but for God's sake do not play- the tambourine!"
And do you know what Chuang-Tse said in reply? He said: "Either I should grieve or play the tambourine. There is nothing in between. And why should I be sad? I thank God who gave her life for so many days -- wonder of wonders! How well she served me and so long -- ah wonder! And the love she showered on me -- oh most beautiful wonder! And if I do not bid farewell to her with music in these parting moments, it would be an improper act on my part! I am giving her a send-off. Now she goes further and further away from this world and the sound of my tambourine must be fading away softly. I have bidden her a joyful farewell."
We are such, we are not happy even when staying together and we call ourselves optimists! And here is Chuang-Tse bidding farewell to his wife with joy and we call him a pessimist! Then our optimism and pessimism is very strange. We are pessimists, for we are filled with pain and sorrow all the twenty-four hours. Chuang-Tse is one from among the extreme Optimists.
Lao Tzu does not ask us to accept out of helplessness. No, he says accept with all your strength all your power, all your might. It requires great strength and valour to accept life as such. Someone throws a stone at Mahavira. Mahavira stands still. To us it would occur: "What a coward! He should return a stone for a stone!" But Mahavira just stands -- not out of cowardice but because of a great strength -- a supreme power. He possesses such gigantic energy that stones do not hurt him. They start no reaction within him. And he who throws the stone is childish. Mahavira is filled with compassion for him and pities him for his vain labour.
We can do only one of the two things: Either we return a stone for a stone or we run away. We know no third alternative. But Mahavira knows. He neither runs away nor does he throw back a stone. He does not take the stone in at all! The stone causes no intervention within him at all. And the stone causes him no harm. On the contrary it proves useful for it helps him to be more firmly established in his supreme peace and bliss. He is not swayed an inch here or there.
All religions are born through great prowess and valour and all religions are born out of fearlessness, not fear. And all religions are consecrated in bliss, never in pain. The maxim of pain is the demand for happiness and to be consecrated in bliss is to accept pain.

Question 2
QUESTION: ARE NOT LAO TZU'S INSTRUCTIONS ON LIFE BASED ON PESSIMISM AND ESCAPISM?
WHAT IS MEANT BY UNDERSTANDING?

Bhagwan Sri: Whatever happens in life can happen in two ways: One with understanding and the other without under-standing. An example will make things easy:
You abuse me and I am filled with anger. Does your abuse at once give birth to anger within me or is there a happening of understanding between the two? When you abuse me do I try to see within myself how the anger is born by your abuse? Do I go within and see whether anger should arise or should not arise? Do I see within what anger is? I see nothing of this. All I know is, you abused and I got angry; there is no gap in between. On one hand is the abuse, on the other, anger. You pressed a button and I flared up -- then I behave like a machine! This behaviour is the behaviour born out of ignorance.
You abuse me and I see what is rising within me and why. Where does the abuse touch me, what wound it disturbs within me, where does it hurt me and why? What is there in the abuse that fills me with rage, what is there in the abuse that fills me with poison? All this I examine within myself and then I see this poison rising within me, this anger ascending from within, this fire ravaging within me -- I see it and I understand it. Then what I do will be out of understanding. It is interesting to note that one can only be angry in ignorance and never knowingly. Therefore, if when you abuse, I worry more about my understanding of the reaction within me, anger becomes impossible. You abuse me and I do not watch myself within, then only is anger possible.
This is why, people like Lao Tzu say that there is no need to take measures to remove anger. No mantras or charms, no oaths or vows are necessary. Understand anger and anger becomes impossible.
A Western friend is practising meditation. He is here with us. His trouble is anger. He is so filled with anger that it overflows at the slightest excuse. I advised him to vent his anger on a pillow. He was surprised! "That is madness!" He exclaimed. "On a pillow?" I told him, "You start and see, it is not so bad. If you could vent your anger on a human being and not see the foolishness of it. It is not more foolish to take it out on a pillow I assure you." He tried the first day and came and gave me a complete report. He felt a little awkward in the beginning. After five or seven minutes when the momentum built up, he started hitting the pillow hard as if it were alive. Not only did the pillow become alive but it assumed the form of the person he hated most. He remembered this foe and all that had happened ten years ago. He had wished to beat him up but could not. He says he felt to laugh, he felt very uneasy too but he enjoyed it also!
Since the last three days he is beating up his pillow. Today he has given the final report and it is very astonishing.
The full report is like this: The very first day all the faces of people he had wanted to hit and could not, began to come up. The next day all faces disappeared. There was no one before him, there was plain anger alone. He saw the anger coming out from within him and there was no one to receive it at the other end -- pure anger. Then it occurred to him that all this was already within him, he only needed excuses to throw out the poison within him. Then an understanding arose. He saw anger in a new form. Now the responsibility of anger, shifted from the other person. Now he knew that there was a fire within him that needed to come out. Now the responsibility shifted on him -- it no longer was objective, it became subjective. It was no longer that the other abused and the anger arose. Now he understood that he was wanting to be angry and was looking out for excuses. If no one had abused him, he would have found some other excuse. He would have even gone to the extent of inciting someone to abuse him! And the simple reason for all this was, that there was something within him that was pressing for release. It was necessary to be rid of it.
The next day in the course of these beatings that he carried out 3-4 times a day, it became absolutely clear to him that the anger was not because of another but was within him. Today was his third day. He told me: "I am shocked at myself". As soon as the realisation came that the anger is not on someone, that the anger is already within myself, something departed from within -- everything was peaceful. Now I have become absolutely weak and incompetent to be angry. If you abuse me now, I shall be unable to express anger. At least I find myself incapable of doing so at this moment. Some load has come off me and I feel empty within."
Understanding means: Whatever happens within you is with your full consciousness and in your full awareness -- Whatever happens. Then many things will stop happening by themselves. What stops happening, is sin; and what keeps happening even in your full consciousness is virtue. Understanding is the test. Whatever can go on with understanding is virtue. What does not go along with understanding, is sin. What can be activated in ignorance alone, is sin and that which cannot be activated in ignorance, is virtue. So understanding means only this: that whatever happens within me, happens with my full knowledge and nothing slips from my consciousness.
Whatever happens to you, happens outside your consciousness. You do not know when you are filled with anger or filled with love, when you are happy, when you are sad -- everything happens in your unconsciousness. Suddenly you find yourself happy, suddenly sad. You feel a terrible melancholia and you look for the cause outside of you. You do not realise it is coming from within you. You begin to blame your son or daughter, your wife or husband or your business. You set out to find and you end up by making a scapegoat of someone or the other.
These are simply excuses-pegs. You think you would not do all this if you are by yourself. You will! If you are locked up in a room alI alone, you will do all that you do to another person. You think you talk only when a friend meets you. If you are left to yourself, you will begin talking to an illusory friend. You think yoU are angered because someone irritated you. Put yourself in a room and in 15 days' time you will find you have become angry hundreds of times. You then vent your anger on your shirt or on the bath-room tap! You will find a thousand ways.
If what happens within you, happens with your full consciousness it becomes a different thing altogether. No happening of my inner existence should happen in my unconsciousness -- this is understanding. What is interesting to note is, that once understanding is born within us, all that is wrong stops happening on its own. Without understanding, even with your best efforts, you will not be able to do the right thing. This is why the whole stress of Lao Tzu is on understanding, knowledge and wisdom.
The rest tomorrow.
 
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