Osho - Finger
Pointing to the Moon
Chapter 1.
Don't Just Listen, Do
Om, may the sun god give us his
benediction.
May varuna, the god of water,
give us his benediction.
May aryama, indra, brahaspati
and Vishnu give us their benediction.
My salutations to brahma, the
absolute reality.
O vayu, the god of air,
salutations especially to you, because you are the Brahma manifest.
I shall call only you the
manifest brahma.
I shall also call you the
truth, call you rit - the law.
May they protect me. May they
protect the speaker.
Protect me. Protect the
speaker.
Om, peace, peace, peace.
I will say only that which I
know. I will say only that which you can also know. By knowing I mean living
it. One may know even without living it, but such knowledge is a burden; one
may sink because of it, but one cannot be saved by it. Knowing can be alive
also. Such knowing renders us weightless - light so that we can fly in the sky.
Only when living becomes knowing do wings grow, fetters break and the doors to
the infinite become wide open.
But knowing is difficult;
accumulating knowledge is easy. Mind chooses the easier and avoids the
difficult. But the one who avoids the difficult will miss religion as well. One
who wants to avoid not only the difficult but the impossible too will never
ever come close to religion.
Religion is only for those who
are ready to enter into the impossible. Religion is for the gamblers, not for
the shopkeepers. Religion is neither a business deal nor a compromise. Religion
is a wager.
A gambler puts his wealth at
stake; the religious person puts himself at stake because that is the ultimate
wealth.
One who is not ready to stake
his very life will never be able to know the hidden mysteries of life. Those
secrets are not available cheaply. Knowledge is available very cheaply;
knowledge is available from books, from scriptures, in education, with the
teachers. Knowledge is available almost for free; you do not have to pay
anything for it. In religion you have to pay heavily. It is not right even to
say "heavily" because only when someone stakes everything do the
doors to that life open. The doors to that life open only for those who put
this life at stake. To put this life at stake is the only key to the door of
that life. But knowledge is very cheap, so the mind chooses the easier and the
cheaper way. We learn things - words, doctrines - and think that we know. Such
knowledge only enhances ignorance.
The ignorant person at least
knows that he does not know; at least that much truth he has. But more
untruthful people cannot be found than those whom we call knowledgeable. They
do not even know that they do not know. Something heard, something committed to
memory, deludes them into thinking they have also known.
I will say to you only that
which I know, because only in saying that lies some value; because only that
which I know can, if you are willing, vibrate the strings of your heart too
with its living impact.
What I myself do not know, and
what is only skin deep in me, cannot go much deeper in you either.
Only that which has entered the
depths of my own heart has the possibility; if you cooperate, it can reach your
heart. Even then your cooperation is a must, because if your heart is closed
there is no way of thrusting the truth forcefully into it. And it is good that
it is so, because if truth can be forcibly inculcated it cannot become your
freedom, it can only become your slavery. All compulsions become slaveries.
So in this world, everything
can be given to you through force; only truth cannot be, because truth can
never become slavery. The very nature of truth is freedom. So truth is the only
thing in this world which nobody can give you forcefully, which nobody can
thrust upon you, which cannot be put upon you from the outside like clothing;
for which your willingness, your openness, your receptivity, your invitation,
your heart full of gratitude are the prerequisites. If your heart becomes like
the earth before the rainy season when it is thirsty for water and develops
wide cracks due to the parching summer heat - as if it has opened up its lips
here and there anticipating the rains - then the truth enters you. Otherwise
the truth turns back even from your very doorstep. Many times it has turned
back - in many, many lifetimes.
You are not new - nothing is
new on this earth; you are all very old. You have sat at the feet of Buddha and
heard him, you have seen Krishna, you have also been around Jesus, but still
you have missed, because your heart was never ready. The rivers of Buddha and
Mahavira have flowed past you, but you have remained thirsty.
The day Buddha was about to
leave his body, Ananda was weeping and beating his chest in desperation. Buddha
asked him, "Why are you weeping? I have been near you for long enough...
forty years! And if it has not
happened even in forty years, what is the point of weeping now? And why are you
feeling so troubled about my death?"
Ananda replied, "I am so
distressed because I could not manage to disappear while you were here.
Had I disappeared, you would
have been able to enter me. For forty years the river was flowing by my side
and I have remained thirsty. Now I am weeping because I do not know when and in
what lifetime I shall be able to meet this river again."
You are not new. You have
cremated Buddhas, you have cremated Mahaviras - Jesus, Krishna and all; you are
living after cremating them all. They lost the battle against you. You are very
old. You have been here since life is. It has been an infinite journey. Where
are we missing? It is just that you are not open, you are closed.
I will say to you only that
which I have known. If you can make yourself an opening, you will also know
that. And it is not that there is some great difficulty in it. There is only
one difficulty, and that is you.
Some people move only with
curiosity, just like small children asking while they are on a walk, "What
is the name of this tree?" And if you don't reply, they immediately forget
that they had asked anything and they start asking something else: "Why is
this rock lying here?" They ask just for the sake of asking and not in
order to know. They do not ask in order to know, they ask because they cannot
remain without asking.
Those who are living out of
curiosity are still childish. If you ask, "What is God?" just as
casually as a child would ask on seeing a toy shop on the road, "What is
this toy?" you are still a child. And the child can be forgiven, but not
you.
Curiosity will not do. Religion
is not a child's play. Even if you are given a reply, it serves no purpose.
The child's fun is in asking.
He could ask, that is his fun. Even if you give him a reply he is not very
interested in it. What is the matter?
Psychologists say that when
children learn to speak for the first time they are only practicing their
speaking by asking; just as when a child learns walking for the first time, he
tries every now and then to get up and walk. So children repeat the same
sentence again and again only because they have acquired a new experience, a
new dimension through speaking. So in that new dimension they are floating and
rehearsing - that is why they ask just anything, they say just anything.
In the world of religion, if
you are also asking just anything, saying just anything, thinking just anything
without any deep desire to know - only out of curiosity - then you will still
cremate some more buddhas; then who knows how many more buddhas will still have
to work hard on you!
Truth has no relationship to
curiosity.
Some people move a little ahead
of curiosity and become inquisitive. There is a little more depth in
inquisitiveness, but just a little more. Inquisitiveness is also not very deep,
it is shallow as well, for it is only intellectual. The intellect is the same
as scabies: if you scratch it a bit, it feels good.
So the intellect goes on
itching: Is there God? Is there any soul? Is there any salvation? What is
meditation? - not that you want to do it. What is God? - not that you want to
know it, but just for discussion, just for conversation.... It is a mental
exercise, an intellectual entertainment. So people only talk big, they never
stake anything. Whether God is or is not, it is not truly their concern; and
they remain untransformed whether God does exist or does not.
It is very interesting: one
person believes there is a God, another believes there is no God, and the lives
of the two are identical. If someone is abused, the one who believes there is a
God gets angry, and the one who believes there is no God, he also gets angry.
Sometimes it happens that the one who believes there is a God gets even more
angry. The one who believes there is no God, how much can he do to you? At best
he may abuse you in return, hit you or kill you. But the one who believes there
is a God can send you to rot in the agonies of hell. He has more ways of
becoming angry.
If belief in God or no belief
in God does not bring about any change in one's life, it only means that it has
no relation to God, it is only intellectual talk. Such inquisitiveness makes a
man a philosopher. He goes on contemplating and deliberating, he learns the
scriptures, accumulates too many doctrines, is able to think of all the pros
and cons, holds debates, but he never lives.
If you are also only full of
inquisitiveness there will be no journey at all. People full of inquisitiveness
are those who sit near the milestone and ask, "What is the destination?
How far is the destination?"
They continue asking this but
never get up and begin to walk.
You know so much! What is there
that is lacking in your knowing? You know almost everything - whatever Buddha
knew or Mahavira or Krishna knew you also know. While reading the Gita, don't
you feel you know all this?
Yes, you also know, but this is
all only in your head. Their seed has not reached your heart. And the ideas
that are only in the mind are like the seed lying on a stone. The seed is
there, lying on the stone, but it cannot sprout. To sprout, the seed will have
to fall down off the stone and seek the soil. And the surface of the soil is
not suitable either, because more moisture is needed. So it has to move
underneath the surface to where there is some water, where there is some juice
flowing.
Seeds remain in the mind like
those lying on the stone. Until they fall down into the heart the wet soil is
not available. In the heart some juice flows, some love; there is some water
there. If a seed falls there, it sprouts.
Inquisitive people have a lot
within them; everything is there, but it is like the seeds lying on the stone.
The soil is not far off, but even this little journey is difficult for them.
They are averse to moving, so the seed remains sitting on the rock. This small
journey will have to be undertaken - that the seed falls down from the stone to
the soil, seeks a place in the soil, finds some wetness, and hides itself a
little inside the soil.
Remember, whatsoever is to be
born in this world needs a deep silence, solitude and darkness.
Those things that are kept in
the mind are kept in the open light. Sprouting is not possible there.
The heart is the wet soil
hidden within you. There something can sprout.
Therefore those who live only
in inquisitiveness become scholars and pundits; knowledgeable, but nothing
sprouts within them - no new birth, no new life, no new flowers, nothing at
all.
There is one more dimension of
seeking, we call it mumuksha, a deep longing for liberation. Here there is no
concern for knowing, the concern is for living. Here there is no concern for
knowing, the concern is for being. The question is not whether there is a God
or not, the question is whether I can be God. There may be a God, but if I
cannot become God then there is no point in it all. The question is not whether
there is any liberation, the question is whether I can also be liberated. If
there is no possibility of my becoming liberated, then even if there is a
liberation somewhere it is meaningless for me. The issue is not whether there
is a soul within or not - there may be, there may not be - the real issue is
whether I can become a soul.
Mumuksha, the longing for
liberation, is a search to be. And when one wants to be, one has to put oneself
at stake. This is why I say religion is a gambler's affair.
I will say only that which I
know, which I have lived. If you agree to put all at stake, whatever is my
experience can also become yours. Experiences do not belong to anyone;
whosoever is ready to receive them, they come to him. Nobody has any right over
the truth, whosoever is willing to disappear inherits it. Truth belongs to one
who shows the readiness to ask for it - who opens the doors of his heart and
calls for it.
This is why I have chosen this
Upanishad. This Upanishad is a direct encounter with spirituality.
There are no siddhants, doctrines,
in it; there are only experiences of siddhas, the fulfilled ones, in it. In it
there is no discussion of that which is born out of curiosity or
inquisitiveness, no, in it there are hints to those who are full of longing for
liberation by those who already have attained liberation.
There are some people who have
not attained, yet they are unable to drop the enjoyment of guiding others.
Giving guidance is a very enjoyable thing. In the whole world, the thing that
is given the most is guidance, and the thing least accepted is also guidance.
Everybody gives, nobody takes.
Whenever you have an
opportunity to give advice to someone you do not miss it. It is not necessary
that you are capable of providing this advice; it is not necessary that
whatever you are saying is your knowing at all, but when it comes to giving
advice, the temptation or the joy of being a teacher is very difficult to
overcome.
What is the joy in being a
teacher? You suddenly, free of cost, are on the upper side and the other is on
the lower side. If someone comes to you for a donation, how difficult you find
it to even give a penny! The difficulty is that you have to give something from
what you have. But in giving guidance, you have no difficulty. Because what
difficulty can there be in giving what you do not have? You are losing nothing.
On the contrary, you are gaining something - you are gaining joy, you are
gaining ego-enhancement; today you are in a position to guide, and the other is
at the receiving end. You are on the top, the other is below.
This is why I say that, in this
Upanishad, there is no pleasure of giving any advice or guidance, rather there
is great pain, because what the seer of this Upanishad is giving, he is giving
after knowing it.
He is sharing something very
intimate, very inner.
The hints are brief but deep.
The hits are very few, but deadly. And, if you are willing, the arrow will
pierce your heart directly and will not leave you alive. It will kill you.
Therefore, be aware and be alert, because this very business is a dangerous
one. You will have to lose what you think you are. In it, there is no way of
achieving without losing yourself. Here only those who lose are the achievers.
That is also why I have chosen
this Upanishad. As it is, I can tell you directly, there is no reason for
bringing the Upanishad in - but I will use it as an excuse, a shelter. If you
shoot an arrow directly, the person can escape; but if it is hidden behind the
Upanishad there are less chances of you missing it.
I have selected the Upanishad
so that you may not know that I am directly aiming at you. This way the chances
of escape are minimized. All hunters know that better hunting is done from a
hiding place. This Upanishad is only a hiding place.
I will say only what I have
known, but then there is no difference between that and the Upanishad.
Because whatever the seer of
this Upanishad has said, he also has known it.
This Upanishad is the
manifestation of the subtlest mysteries of spirituality. But if I go on talking
on the Upanishad only, there is a fear that the talk may remain merely talk. So
the talks will be only a background, and along with it there will be
experiments. Whatever is said, whatever the seer has seen, or whatever I say,
and I have seen - there will be attempts to turn your face, to raise your eyes
towards that. The attempt to raise your eyes towards that will be the main
thing, the talk on the Upanishad will be only for creating a milieu. Such
vibrations can be created all around you so that you forget the twentieth century
and arrive in the world of the seer of this Upanishad, so that this world which
has become so lusterless and ugly may disappear and the memories may arise of
those days in which this seer lived.
An atmosphere, a milieu - the
Upanishad is only for that. But that is not enough - it is necessary, but not
enough.
So whatever I say, if you just
stop at hearing it I will know you have not heard it at all. Whoever does not
set out on the journey after hearing this, I don't believe he has heard. If you
think you have understood just by hearing... do not be in such haste! If it was
possible to understand something only by hearing we would have understood long
ago. If it was possible to understand something only by hearing there would be
no shortage of people with understanding in the world and an ignorant person
would be difficult to find. But as it is the world is full of only the
ignorant.
Nothing is understood only by
listening. By listening we only close our fists on words. Not by listening but
by doing one understands. So listen to find the way of doing, not for the
understanding. Listen in order to do, do in order to understand. Do not come to
the conclusion that just by listening you have understood. That intermediary
link of doing is necessary. There is no other way. But our mind says, "I
have got it; now where is the need to do?"
Destinations are reached by
moving towards them. You may have understood everything, the whole route of
your journey may have been memorized by you, you may have a detailed map in
your pocket; still, without moving no one ever comes to their destination. But
it is possible to dream of having arrived. A person may be asleep right here
and can dream of having arrived anywhere. The mind is an expert in dreaming.
Do not think that only you see
such dreams; even those whom you call very intelligent also go on having these
dreams. Your saints, your monks and sannyasins - those who have been searching
for years - have not come even an inch closer to anywhere. They have not even
begun their journey at all and they have been searching for years!
Their whole search has been
circular. In the mind a circle has been created - a sort of whirlpool. And in
that whirlpool they move round and round and ultimately everything gets lost -
all the Vedas, the Upanishads, the Korans, the Bibles, everything gets lost,
but there is not even an inch of movement.
We will discuss the Upanishad -
not to make you understand the Upanishad, but for you to become the Upanishad.
If by listening you memorize something and begin to repeat it, it means I have
harmed you; I did not prove to be your friend. Your repeating what you have
heard is of no value.
When I can see that the same
happens to you as has happened to me, that your eyes also open up - only then
have you become the Upanishad.
Understand it this way: a poet
sings a song about some flower. There can be a great sweetness, rhythm and
music in this song - songs have their own beauty - but howsoever much the song
may sing of the flower, yet the song is just a song, it is not the flower, it
is not the fragrance of the flower.
And if you are satisfied only
with that song, then you have gone astray.
This Upanishad is a song of a
flower that you have not yet seen. The song is wonderful: the singer has seen
the flower. But do not be satisfied by the song, the song is not the flower.
It also happens that sometimes
you too come close to the flower - only sometimes. Sometimes you too get a
glimpse of the flower - accidentally, suddenly - because the flower is not
foreign to you, it is your very nature. It is very close to you, just by your
side. Sometimes it touches you - in spite of you. Sometimes the flower gives
you a glimpse, a glimpse like a flash of lightning. In some moment it abruptly
enters your experience: you feel that there is something more in this world,
that this world that you know is not all that is. In this rocky world there is
something else which is not a stone but is a flower - alive and blossoming. And
if you have seen it in some dream, or a lightning flash in the dark of
night.... You see something and it disappears again - thus it happens sometimes
in your life.
It often happens in the lives
of the poets. It often happens in the lives of the painters that a glimpse of
the flower comes close by.
Yet, however close to the
flower, however great a glimpse you may have had, this closeness is still a
distance. No matter how close the flower may come to you, still the distance
remains. And even if I can actually touch the flower with my hands, still it is
not certain that the experience I am having is that of the flower, because the
message is coming through my hand. The hand may give a wrong message. There is
no certainty of my hand giving the right message: there is no reason to trust
my hand implicitly. Again, the message that the hand will give will be less
about the flower and more about itself.
If the flower feels cold, it is
not necessary that the flower is cold - maybe my hand is feverish and that is
why the flower is felt to be cold. The message is more about the hand, because
whenever a message comes through a medium it is always relative. One cannot be
absolutely certain about it.
I was reading a memoir written
by Popov. Popov was a seeker - and an ardent seeker. She was practicing
spiritual disciplines with Piotr Dimitrovich Ouspensky. Once she was sitting
with Ouspensky and a gentleman came and asked him whether there is a God or
not. Ouspensky exclaimed, "God? No, there is no God." Ouspensky
paused a little, and said, "But I cannot say with any guarantee, because
whatever I have known is through a medium. Sometimes I have seen through my
eyes, but the eyes cannot be relied upon. Sometimes I have heard through my
ears, but the ears can hear wrongly. Sometimes I have touched through my hands,
but touch cannot be relied upon either. So far I have not seen directly, I have
never been face to face. Therefore I cannot say with any guarantee. Whatever I
have known so far, it has not given me any experience of God. But that does not
prove that there is no God, it only informs you about what my experiences are.
So I cannot give you any guarantee that God is not. But do not drop your search
and believe me, go on searching for yourself."
Whenever something happens
through a medium it is not trustworthy. Even if we come very close to a flower,
still it is the eyes that see, the hands that touch, and the nose that gathers
the fragrance - these are all experiences through our senses. Thus it is that
sometimes a poet comes so close to that ultimate flower that its echo descends
into his songs. But still he is not a Buddha, not a Mahavira.
Who is Buddha? Who is Mahavira?
Buddha is that consciousness which has become the flower itself; even that much
distance, that of seeing the flower, does not exist - consciousness has become
the flower.
Only by becoming the flower can
one fully know what is.
These are statements of a seer
of the Upanishad. It is like a song about some flower. Go on humming it - there
is a lot of sweetness and an exquisite taste in it, but it is not the flower,
it is only a song. If you make the effort, you will sometimes see the flower.
People come to me and say,
"There was a great light during the meditation, but I lost it again.
Infinite light was there, but it disappeared again. There was immense
bliss." But where has it gone now?
Now they are searching for it
again and cannot find it.
A glimpse means you had come
close. But glimpses are bound to be lost. Meditation can, at the most, give
only a glimpse. But do not stop there. Do not get stuck looking for that same
glimpse again and again. The only purpose of meditation is that one gets a
glimpse. Then one has to go ahead, into samadhi, into enlightenment, so that
one becomes the very flower.
In meditation is a glimpse;
samadhi is being it.
Do not stop at glimpses. They
are very lovely: the whole world starts looking stale - just one glimpse of
that living flower, that flowering which is within, and the whole world becomes
insipid and meaningless. But then some people catch hold of the glimpses and
start repeating them and think everything has happened. No, until you are the
divine yourself, do not believe that God is.
You can be it, because you
already are it. You have only to open up a little, to uncover a little. You are
present here and now, just hiding. There are only a few layers of clothes
covering you - and they too are very thin - so that if you so desire you can
throw them off right now, be free of them, and be the divine. But your clinging
is very strong; though the clothes are thin, your grip is very tight. Why is
this clinging so strong? The clinging is strong because we think that these
clothes are our being, that this is what we are. Other than that we do not know
of any other existence.
In this Upanishad there will be
hints of that existence which is beyond these coverings. And along with this
Upanishad we will meditate, so we can get a glimpse. And we will hope for
samadhi, enlightenment, so that we become that without which there is no
contentment, no peace, and no truth.
The Upanishad begins with
prayer. The prayer is addressed to the whole universe.
May the sun god give us his
benediction. May varuna, aryama, indra, brahaspati and vishnu give us their
benediction. Salutations to that brahma.
O vayu, salutations especially
to you because you are the brahma manifest, i shall call only you the manifest
brahma; the truth, the rit - the law. May they all protect me and my master,
the speaker.
The Upanishad begins with this
prayer. The journey of religion has begun with a prayer. It has to be so.
Prayer means trust and hope. Prayer means our feeling of being one with the whole
universe.
Prayer means, "How would I
be able to manage alone?"
If it were possible that you
alone could make this happen it would have happened long ago. But by yourself
even the trivial could not be achieved. You had desired money, you could not
achieve even that. You had wished for position, you could not manage even that.
You had all sorts of wishes, large and small, but none were fulfilled. Alone
you could not even manage the world: would this great journey of truth be
possible by yourself alone? By yourself, you are even defeated in the world.
Everyone is defeated in this
world. Even those who appear to be victorious are also defeated. They only
appear victorious to others, in themselves they are utterly defeated. You also
appear to yourself as defeated, but to others you appear victorious. There are
people behind you who feel that you have achieved, that you have won in the
worldly battle. But if we look within man, everyone is defeated.
This world is a long story of
defeats. Here victory just does not happen. Here victory just cannot happen, it
is not in the nature of the world. Defeat is the destiny here. Defeat is not of
any individual, not of any person, but the destiny of being in the world is
defeat. You will have to accept defeat there. Nobody ever wins there.
We could not win in the world
where it was all a concern with petty things, where it was just a dream -
Shankara calls it maya, an illusion. When we were defeated even in that
illusion, in that dreamlike happening, how then can we hope to win on our own
in the world of truth?
Prayer means the realization of
a person who has been defeated in the world. When even after trying for lives
upon lives he has been defeated in the mundane, what capability can he claim in
the matters of the sacred and the absolute?
Hence the prayer. Hence the
seer has invoked the whole universe to help him. He has invoked the sun, he has
invoked Varuna. All these names are symbolic of the powers of the universe. The
sun has been invoked first because the sun is our life. Without him, we
wouldn't be. Within us, it is the sun that lives, burns. If the sun is
extinguished there, we will be extinguished here. The sun is our life, hence he
has been invoked.
The seer says: Salutations to
vayu, the god of air - Vayu has been especially saluted in this prayer -
because you are the brahma manifest. It is a bit strange. Think a little. It is
very interesting, because Vayu is absolutely unmanifest; all other things are
manifest. Had the seer said to the sun, "You are the manifest Brahma"
- radiant, burning, hot, living - it would have been understandable. But the
seer did not call the sun "manifest Brahma" he said that to Vayu,
whom we cannot see at all, who is really unmanifest.
Where is that Vayu manifest? We
only infer that it is, we only feel that it is, but it cannot be seen.
Where is it available to the
eye? Manifest means that which can be seen by the eyes. Now, Vayu is not at all
available to the eyes. Rocks, mountains, they are all visible, but not Vayu.
But the seer says: Oh vayu! Salutations to you, because you are the manifest
brahma. He said so because Vayu, the air, is not visible but still is; it is
not seen by the eye, nevertheless it is touching the eye each moment - and the
same is the situation with the supreme truth. It is not seen but it is touching
us every moment.
Vayu is not seen because we do
not have the eyes to see it. Vayu is simply there. Without Vayu we cannot
exist. Vayu is in our breath, protecting us, and our very life depends on its
inhalation and exhalation. Something which is so near us, which is our very
breath, we cannot see, because our eyes are very gross. Whatever is very gross,
that is what we see. Whatever is subtle, we are unable to see.
Vayu, the air, is very subtle.
It is present before us; it is within us and without us. It is present in every
cell of our body - but not visible. That is why it is said: you are the
manifest brahma - you are just like the Brahma.
Brahma is present here but not
visible. And it is present in our every fiber; in fact, it is the fiber and yet
we see no trace of it. That is why Vayu has been saluted, that we know the
Vayu, but not the Brahma. A thread of relationship has been attempted, that
Brahma is just like Vayu, the air.
"I will call you the
manifest Brahma," the seer says, "I will also name you the truth and
rit, the law, because you are just like that which is and is not known to us;
who we ourselves are and yet whom we do not know; who is now and here since
eternity and not known by us. But this search may be fulfilled, if all the gods
protect us."
What is meant by gods is the
endless number of life-forces since eternity. And life is a vast network of
endless numbers of forces. Your existence is also a vast network of these
endless powers. Within you meet the sun, Varuna, Indra, Vayu; Agni, the fire;
Prithvi, the earth; Akash, the sky - they all meet. If we can know one
individual in his totality we have known the whole of the existence in seed
form. Everything is there in the individual. Everything has united in him, and
in their meeting the individual exists.
So prayer is for the help of
all these. But will the sun help? That question does arise. Even if the prayers
are done will the sun help, or will the Vayu help, or will the earth help? The
question is not of the earth's help or the sun's help, but that you prayed - that
is the great help! Let this be understood properly.
No sun is coming to help you,
but you prayed and it will affect you, not the sun, because a prayerful mind
becomes humble, a prayerful mind becomes helpless, a prayerful mind accepts the
fact that alone it cannot accomplish anything; a prayerful mind is ready to
dissolve and give up its ego and the feeling that it can do it. And these
things bring results.
The whole outcome of the prayer
is on you. The prayer does not change the sun, but you. And the moment you
change, you enter into another world.
Normally when you pray you
think that someone is going to do something for you, and that is why you pray.
No, prayer is only a device. Certainly you join your hands in prayer towards
someone else, but its consequences happen within you - in the one who has
joined hands in prayer.
Thus there are difficulties in
understanding it. If you pray in the presence of a scientist: "Oh sun,
help me!" the scientists will say, "What nonsense! How can the sun
help you? When has the sun ever helped anyone?" Or you pray: "O
Indra, bring rains!" and he will say, "Have you gone mad?
Have rains ever fallen by
prayers?" The scientist is right.
Neither the sun nor the clouds
nor the winds will listen to you. None will listen to you. But the fact that
you called out will transform you. How intensely you called will create an
equally deep intensity within you. If your whole being calls out, you will
become a totally different person.
This is what prayer is for.
Enough for today.
EmoticonEmoticon