Osho - Rinzai
Master of the Irrational
Chapter 7.
There is no final destination
Our beloved master,
Once, when Kingyu saw rinzai coming to his monastery, he sat in his
room holding his stick crosswise. Rinzai struck the stick three times with his hand,
then entered the monk's hall and sat down in the first seat.
Kingyu came in, saw Rinzai, and said, "In an encounter between
host and guest, each should observe the customary formalities. Where are you
from, and why are you so rude?"
"What are you talking about, old osho?" answered Rinzai.
As kingyu was about to open his mouth to reply, Rinzai struck him.
Kingyu pretended to fall down. Rinzai hit him again. Kingyu said, "Today
things were not to my advantage."
At a later time, Isan asked Kyozan, "In the case of these two
venerable ones, was either the winner or loser?"
Kyozan said, "When one wins, one wins unconditionally. When one
loses, one loses unconditionally."
Maneesha, the anecdote that you
have brought can be understood only if you understand Zen's position about
conditionality. In our lives everything is conditioned - conditioned by
circumstances, conditioned by traditions. When I say everything is conditioned,
I mean nothing is yours; everything has come to you from the outside. You are
just a gathering point. On your own you are nothing, you are utterly empty.
Zen wants you to approach life
unconditionally. That means without any prejudice, without any precondition,
without any expectation. You can be total only if you are standing at your very
center.
You love, but your love is
conditional. You have friends but your friends are conditional. Just a small
change in circumstances and the lovers become enemies and the friends are no
more friends.
Machiavelli had a great insight
when he wrote the book THE PRINCE. Although it is a book of diplomacy and has
nothing to do with religion, there are insights which can help you to
understand.
Machiavelli says, "A king
should never tell to his friend what he cannot tell to the enemy, because no
one knows: who is a friend today may be an enemy tomorrow, and who is an enemy
today may be a friend tomorrow." He is laying down a diplomatic policy -
but our whole life is diplomatic. We say things because the listener will
appreciate them; then it has become conditional. To say the truth we don't have
to consider at all whether it will be liked or not.
Gurdjieff used to teach his
disciples unconditionality as a basic principle for finding the truth. If you
put any conditions, those conditions will be the barriers, and what are all
your religions except conditions?
When a follower of Krishna or a
follower of Christ sits for meditation, his desire is to see Krishna - he is
expecting existence to be according to his desire - and the Christian is asking
for Christ. Because of their conditioned minds it is possible Hindus may see
Krishna. The Christian will not see Krishna and the Hindu will not see Christ;
they will see according to their conditions. They will see their own conditions
in a kind of hallucination, and they will feel immensely joyous that they have
realized God.
All your so-called saints are
simply psychopaths. They don't understand that the basic foundation of finding
the truth is to first clean your mind of all conditions. Approach existence
absolutely empty.
Allow existence to say
something. Don't ask.
That's where Zen comes to be
the highest kind of religiousness. Just compare it to Jesus' saying to his
followers, "Ask and it shall be given unto you" - but ask. What you
can ask will be some desire, some longing, some passion, some greed. What can
you ask? - and existence has no obligation to fulfill your asking.
Jesus goes on by saying,
"Knock and the doors shall be opened unto you." It seems as if
existence is closed; unless you knock, the doors will not be opened.
The truth is, existence has no
doors, so where are you going to knock? And existence is every moment
available; your doors are closed. Are you going to knock on your own doors? And
who is going to open them?
Jesus says, "Seek and ye
shall find." Beautiful words, and if you don't understand, then great
poetry.
But if you understand, then
they are not fundamental statements of a religious consciousness.
A religious consciousness will
just change the whole thing into its opposite: seek and you will miss; don't
seek and you have already found. Knock and you will be knocking in vain,
because existence has no doors; it is in every dimension open. Ask and you will
be living in an illusion. It will be given to you not by existence, but by your
own imagination.
Don't put any condition on
existence, don't put any pressure on existence. Just be available and rejoice,
whatever comes to you. And existence comes in such abundance to the
unconditional man that it is simply surprising. You had not asked and all the
treasures, all the splendors, all the mysteries, are your own. You were not
seeking, and the truth is already there.
You are the truth, the whole
seeking is stupid. The more you seek, the farther you will go away from the
truth. So stop seeking - and complete stoppage of desiring, seeking, asking,
they are all the same things. Just remain at your center, available and open,
unconditionally, and you have found that which cannot be said.
In this background you should
understand this anecdote.
Once, when Kingyu saw rinzai coming to his monastery, he sat in his
room holding his stick crosswise. Rinzai struck the stick three times with his hand,
then entered the monk's hall and sat down in the first seat.
Obviously the first seat
belonged to Kingyu; he was the master of the monastery. And this is strange
behavior from a guest, that he knocks first the stick of the master three
times, and then, without saying anything, enters the assembly hall and sits in
the place of the master.
Kingyu came in, saw Rinzai, and said, "In an encounter between
host and guest, each should observe the customary formalities.
That's where Rinzai differs,
and any great master will differ. Kingyu had many more disciples than Rinzai,
because the masses could understand him more clearly. He was following in a way
the formalities of the masses. He expects Rinzai also...
He says to Rinzai, "In an encounter between host and
guest" - he thinks he is the host, which formally he is, and Rinzai is
a guest, which formally he is - "Each
should observe the customary formalities."
There Rinzai does not agree,
and no great master can agree. Traditional formalities? Then what is Zen all
about? It is the revolution against the formal. It is all for the spontaneous,
not for the customary.
"Where are you from, and why are you so rude?"
He is not rude. On the surface
he will appear rude to anybody, but he is exactly expressing his position. When
he struck three times on the stick, he told his host, "Try to understand
that a greater master is here. You are only a formal teacher."
Those three strikings on the
stick show that from now onwards, "formally, you are the host; but in
existence I am the host, you are the guest." What is true on the surface
is not necessarily true at the center.
Rinzai is saying, "A
master has come to a disciple." He has made it clear by striking the stick
of Kingyu that from now onwards, "While I'm here, I am the master."
He is not being rude, he is simply being straightforward, and that is the
quality of an authentic master.
Kingyu asked him, "Where are you from, and why are you so
rude?" He could not understand the behavior, although the behavior is
clear. The master has struck three times on Kingyu's stick, and he is sitting
in his seat in the assembly hall.
Rinzai is saying, "You are
a mere teacher, you are not yet a master. Whatever you know is mere knowledge,
it is not your own existential experience."
"What are you talking about, old Osho?" answered rinzai. Osho
is a very honorable word. Just in a single word he has said, "I have not
been rude; I have just declared that I have come here."
"What are you talking about, old Osho? You are old and you are
well respected by me, but that does not mean that you know the truth. You have
strived hard your whole life, you disciplined yourself, you have been training
yourself, but you have not yet got the point. I respect you, your old age, your
lifelong effort.
"I am not rude, but truth
has to be said even if it appears to be rude. What are you talking about, old Osho?"
By the word 'osho' he has made
the position clear: "I am not rude, and I cannot be rude to anybody.
It is really out of compassion
that I have struck on your stick, showing you that you don't deserve to have
it. It should be in my hands. You did not understand, that's why I had to come
to the assembly hall and sit in the position where you used to sit.
"Obviously you are feeling
insulted, but all I am saying is that the moment a real master enters, then he
is always the host, he is never the guest."
As Kingyu was about to open his mouth to reply, Rinzai struck him.
He did not allow him to speak, because it is not a question of speaking, it is
not a dialogue.
Try to understand: don't be
bothered about words, but the actual situation. He was going to open his mouth
means he was going to say something. Rinzai struck him to say, "Don't say
anything, see!
Don't get lost into
explanations, just see the situation, just look into my eyes!"
Kingyu pretended to fall down. Rinzai hit him again - because no
pretensions are allowed in Zen. Either you fall down, not by any effort but as
a happening... You don't pretend; it is not a drama.
Kingyu pretended to fall down. Rinzai hit him again. Now this hit
is for his pretension - not only this pretending to fall, but his whole life is
a pretension. He is not a master, yet he has been pretending to be the master.
Kingyu said, "Today things were not to my advantage."
That is not the response of one
who has understood. He is still thinking in terms of advantage.
He has not understood the
meaning of the behavior of Rinzai. He throws the responsibility, like everybody
else in the world, on destiny, on kismet, on the lines of the hand, on the
birth chart - all kinds of stupid excuses. "What can I do? Today things were not to my advantage."
The reality is that Rinzai did
too much, gave him again and again opportunities to understand - which would
have been one of the greatest days in his life - that a master has walked down
from his hill to his monastery, uninvited, and tried to wake him up. But he is
thinking of advantages....
At a later time, Isan asked Kyozan, "In the case of these two
venerable ones, was either the winner or loser?"
This was asked century after
century in Zen: "What happened that day? Who was the winner and who was
the loser?"
At a later time, Isan asked Kyozan - both great masters - "In the case of these two venerable
ones, was either the winner or loser?" Kyozan said, "When one wins,
one wins unconditionally. When one loses, one loses unconditionally."
This is such a profound
statement; it means the question of being a winner or loser is meaningless.
The point is, whatever happens
it should be unconditional, it should be spontaneous. To be a failure
spontaneously is as valuable as to be victorious. The real value is in
spontaneity, in unconditionality.
If you fail, you accept your
failure unconditionally, with joy. That's a gift of nature. One never knows,
even a dark night may turn into a beautiful dawn. You should not start having opinions
about who has won and who has lost. Both the participants in a Zen encounter
should remain spontaneous whatever happens. The value is in the spontaneity; it
has been taken away from victory completely.
Victory is part of a struggling
world, a world with conditions, a world with desires. Zen pays no attention to
victory or defeat; they are both meaningless. What is meaningful is
spontaneity. It is possible that the spontaneous one may be defeated and the
victorious may not be unconditional. In the eyes of Zen, the defeated one is at
a higher state.
It happened once, a Zen
samurai, a Zen warrior, had come home early from the front, and he found the
servant making love to his wife.
Being a man of Zen, he said to
the servant, "Don't be worried, just finish your job. I am waiting
outside. You will have to take a sword in your hand and fight with me. It is
perfectly okay whatever is happening. I am waiting outside."
This poor servant started
trembling. He does not even know how to hold a sword, and his master is a
famous warrior; he will chop off his head in a single blow.
So he ran from the back door to
the Zen master who was also the master of the warrior. He said to the master,
"I have got into trouble. It is all my fault, but it has happened."
The master listened to his
story and he said, "There is no need to be worried. I will teach you how
to hold the sword, and I will also tell you that it does not matter that your
master is a great warrior.
All that matters is
spontaneity. And in spontaneity you will be the better, because he seems to be
confident: there is no question of this servant surviving; it will be almost
like a cat playing with a rat.
"So don't be worried. Be
total, and hit him hard, because this is your only chance of living, survival.
So don't be half-hearted, don't
be conditional, thinking that perhaps he may forgive you. He will never forgive
you. You will have to fight with him. You have provoked and challenged him. But
there is no problem: as far as I can see, you will end up the winner."
The servant could not believe
it, and the master said, "You should understand that I am his master also,
and I know that he will behave according to his training. Knowing perfectly
well that he is going to win, he cannot be unconditional - and you have no
other alternative than to be unconditional.
Just be total. You don't know
where to hit, how to hit, so hit anywhere. Just go crazy!"
The servant said, "If you
say so, I will do it. In fact there is no chance of my survival, so why not do
it totally!"
Seeing that the time had come,
he learned how to hold the sword, and he came back and challenged his master,
"Now come on!"
The master could not believe
it. He was thinking the servant would fall at his feet and cry and weep and
say, "Just forgive me!"
But instead of that the servant
roared like a lion, and he has got a sword from the Zen master. He recognized
the sword, and he said, "From where did you get it?"
The servant said, "From
your master. Now come, let it be decided once and for all. Either I will
survive or you will survive, but both cannot."
The master felt a little
tremble in his heart, but still he thought, "How can he manage? It is
years' training.... I have been fighting for years in wars, and this poor
servant..." But he had to take out his sword.
The servant went really crazy.
Not knowing where to hit, he was hitting here and there and just...
The samurai was at a loss,
because he could fight with any warrior who knew how to fight - but this man
knows nothing and he is doing all kinds of things. The servant pushed him to
the wall, and the master had to ask him, "Please forgive me. You will kill
me. You don't know how to fight - what are you doing?"
The servant said, "It is
not a question of doing. It is my last moment; I will do everything with
totality."
The servant became the winner,
and the warrior also went to the master and said, "What miracle have you
done? Within five minutes he became such a great warrior, and he was making
such blows, so stupid that he could have killed me. He knows nothing but he
could have killed me. He pushed me to the wall of my house, his sword on my
chest. I had to ask to be forgiven and tell him that whatever he is doing it is
perfectly okay and to continue."
The master said, "You have
to learn a lesson, that it is finally the totality, the unconditional
absoluteness... whether it brings defeat or victory does not matter. What
matters is that the man was total, and the total man never is defeated. His
totality is his victory."
That's what Kyozan is saying: "When one wins, one wins
unconditionally." He does not take any credit that "I am the
victor"; it is always the unconditional consciousness that is the victor.
"When one loses, one loses unconditionally." There is no
question of any defeatism; there is no question of feeling a failure. He gave
his total effort. But if nature wants that the other should win, it is
perfectly okay. "I have not left anything, I did my best and was total,
and I was absolutely spontaneous. More than that I cannot do."
So when two warriors fight in
Japan - and it happens often, even today - most probably nobody wins and nobody
is defeated, because both are total. Their efforts are so spontaneous that
finally they end up without winning or being defeated. Very rarely is a person
defeated, and whoever is defeated, it is just circumstantial. The victor does
not declare himself and his egoism; on the contrary, he embraces the defeated
and he appreciates the way the defeated fought. It was spontaneous and total,
"and it is just by chance that I am the winner and you are not. It is just
by chance. But as far as your spontaneity and totality are concerned, you are
absolutely equal to me."
This is a very different
approach. Victory or defeat are no more the values. A great shift in values
takes place: spontaneity, absoluteness, putting all that you have at the stake,
that is valuable.
Whether victory happens or
defeat happens, that is not material.
One German professor, Herrigel,
was one of the first Western disciples of a Zen master in Japan.
He was learning archery. He was
already a great archer in Germany, because there values are different. He was a
great archer because he was always right one hundred percent, his arrow
reaching to the exact middle of the target, the bull's-eye. In Germany your
success will be counted by the percentage - a hundred percent, ninety percent,
eighty percent. That is the way it is counted all around the world, except in
Japan.
In Japan, when Herrigel had
learned archery for years in Germany and had become the champion archer of
Germany, he heard about a different valuation. He went to Japan and remained
there for three years with a master. He could not understand why the master was
always saying, "You missed" - and his arrow was always reaching
exactly to the bull's- eye.
The master said, "That is
not the point, whether your arrow reaches the bull's-eye or not. The point is
that you should be spontaneous. Forget about the target. Remember that you
should be spontaneous, you should not make an effort."
Three years passed, but the
German professor, Herrigel, could not understand what this man was talking
about. Every day he would try, and the master would say, "No!"
Finally he decided to go back:
"This is useless, wasting time!" He could not understand what this
spontaneity is. He could not understand how you can be spontaneous when you are
an archer. You have to take the bow in your hand, you have to aim, you have to
be exact so that your arrow reaches to the point - how can you be without effort?
Some effort is absolutely needed. And you will agree that he was not wrong.
But Zen will not agree. The Zen
master continued working, without getting bored or fed up that three years have
passed and this man cannot relax.
Herrigel told him after three
years, "Tomorrow I have to leave. I'm sorry that I could not understand. I
still carry the idea that I am one hundred percent right, so how can you say
that I don't know archery at all?"
So the next day, early in the
morning, he went to see the master for the last time. The master was teaching
somebody else, so he sat there on the bench and just looked. For the first time
he was not concerned; he was going, he had dropped the idea of learning archery
through Zen, so he was totally relaxed and was watching, just watching how the
master took the bow in his hand and how he totally relaxed as if not concerned
at all whether the arrow reaches to the target or not, with no tension and with
no desire, being just playful and relaxed.
He had been seeing the master
for three years, but because he was full of desire he could not see that his
archery was totally different: the value is not in the target, the value is in
your gesture, in you.
Are you relaxed? Are you total?
Is your mind absolutely silent? A different orientation... because the archery
is not important, the meditation is important. And a man of meditation,
although he does not care about the target, simply reaches the target, with no
mind, in utter clarity, in silence, relaxed.
Zen has brought a different
valuation to everything. In China they have a saying that when a musician
becomes perfect, he throws away his instruments; when an archer becomes
perfect, he throws away his bows and arrows. Strange, because what is the point
of becoming a perfect archer and now you are throwing away your bows and
arrows?
One man declared to the emperor
of China, "Now you have to announce it and recognize me as the greatest
archer in China. I am ready for any challenge." And he was absolutely
perfect, just like Professor Herrigel - one hundred percent successful.
But the king said, "Have
you heard about an old archer who lives deep in the mountains?"
He said, "I have heard
about him, but I am ready to contest."
The king laughed. He said,
"You should go and meet that old man. If he recognizes you, I will
recognize you, because I don't know archery.... But he is a great archer,
perhaps the greatest, so you should go. Bring his recognition, and my
recognition is available. But without asking him I cannot do it. It is not a
question of a challenge."
So the man had to travel to the
high mountains, where he found a very old man whose back was bent, who could
not stand straight. He asked, "Are you the archer?"
The man said, "I used to
be. But perhaps half a century has passed, and when I became a perfect archer,
according to my master, I had to throw away my bows and arrows. You think you
are a perfect master; have you come for recognition?" The king had sent
information to him that he was sending somebody.
The man said, "Yes."
The old man said, "Then
why are you carrying the bow and the arrows?"
The man said, "Strange...
That's what my mastery is."
The old man laughed. He brought
him out of his small cottage to a mountain cliff. The old man was so old, maybe
one hundred and forty years old, and the cliff went so deep underneath,
thousands of feet into the valley. If you just missed a single step or trembled
or hesitated, you were gone. The old man walked to the very edge of the cliff,
half his feet hanging off the cliff, half his feet on the cliff.
The young man could not believe
his eyes. The old man said, "Now you also come. There is enough space here
for one more!" The young man tried just two steps and sat down, trembling,
seeing the situation.
The old man laughed and he
said, "What kind of archer are you? How many birds can you kill with a
single arrow?"
The young man said, "Of
course one bird."
The old man said, "You
have to learn under a Zen master. It is a sheer wastage of one arrow, just one
bird. My master never allowed anybody the certificate unless he was able with
one arrow to bring down the whole flock."
The young man said, "How
many can you bring down?"
He said, "You say the
number."
Just then a flock of birds flew
over. The old man just looked, and seven birds fell down.
The young man said, "My
God!"
The old man said, "When
you can look with totality, your very eyes become arrows. But you are a novice;
you could not come to the edge of the cliff. If you are trembling inside, then
your archery cannot be perfect. You may manage to hit the targets, but that is
not the point. The point is that you have an untrembling total presence. Then
your total presence becomes as sharp as any arrow.
"That's why the ancient
proverb: When the musician becomes perfect, he throws away the musical
instruments. Now his very voice, his very being is musical; now the very air
around him has a music.
And when the archer becomes
perfect, his untrembling totality becomes almost a death ray, if he looks
towards a flock of birds, or a flock of animals."
The master said, "You go
back and learn from this point. The target is not the target; you are the
target. Become total - and if I am alive, I will visit you after five years to
see whether I can give you the recognition. Or if I am gone, my son will come
after five years. He is as great an adept as I am, and you will be able to
recognize him, because whatever I can do with my eyes, he can also do."
After five years the old man
came. These five years the archer tried his best to be total, and he succeeded.
The old man asked, "Where are your bows and arrows?"
He said, "It must be two
years by now, but it seems like centuries have passed and I have not seen the
arrows and the bow. Now I can do what you were able to do."
The old man did not ask for a
test, he simply gave the recognition. He said, "I can see in your eyes the
unwavering totality. I can see in your body the spontaneous relaxedness. You
can go to the king and tell him that the old man gives the recognition, and just
for your recognition I have come down from the hills."
Zen brings a new valuation into
everything. It is not a life-renouncing religion, it is a life-transforming
religion. It transforms everything, it negates nothing. But one thing has to be
remembered:
unconditionality, totality,
spontaneity - strange values, because no religion talks about them, and they
are the authentic values that will give you the alchemy to change your being.
All religions talk about
formalities, etiquette, manners. They are all concerned with your polished
personality. They make you pretenders, they make you actors, but they don't
change your center.
This a beautiful anecdote, and
Kyozan is saying, "When one wins,
one wins unconditionally." There was no desire to win, one was simply
playful, enjoying the very art and enjoying the meditativeness and spontaneity.
Now whatever happens, that is not the concern.
Of course when two persons will
be fighting, one will be defeated, one will be victorious. What does it matter
who is victorious and who is defeated? All that matters is whether both are at
the same degree of concentration, at the same degree of unconditionality.
Whoever is higher in unconditionality - he may be the defeated one, but
according to Zen he is at a higher point of consciousness, and that is real
victory. The formal victory is another thing.
Ikkyu wrote:
Myself of long ago,
In nature
Non-existent:
No final destination,
Nothing of any value.
He is giving you the very
manifesto of Zen. Myself of long ago, in
nature... I have disappeared in nature, I don't know when, I have not kept
a diary and I don't remember that I was anything else at any time.
Myself of long ago, in nature non-existent: I don't find myself, I
find only nature. No final destination... I am going nowhere. There is no final
destination, because final destination will mean death.
Life is a continuity always and
always. There is no final destination it is going towards. Just the pilgrimage,
just the journey in itself is life, not reaching to some point, no goal - just
dancing and being in pilgrimage, moving joyously, without bothering about any
destination.
What will you do by getting to
a destination? Nobody has asked this, because everybody is trying to have some
destination in life. But the implications...
If you really reach the
destination of life, then what? Then you will look very embarrassed. Nowhere to
go... you have reached to the final destination - and in the journey you have
lost everything. You had to lose everything. So standing naked at the final
destination, you will look all around like an idiot: what was the point? You
were hurrying so hard, and you were worrying so hard, and this is the outcome.
I have told you about one of
Rabindranath's stories. It is a song. The story says in song, "I have been
searching for God for centuries. Sometimes he was around the moon, but by the
time I reached there he had moved to some other star. I saw him at another
star, but by the time I reached there he had moved again. This went on and on,
but there was great joy in that he is there, and one day I am going to find
him. How long can he hide? How long can he escape?
"And it happened that one
day I reached a house where there was a board saying that this was the house of
God. I had a great sense of relief that my destiny was fulfilled. I went up the
steps and I was just going to knock on the door when I became aware that, 'Just
wait, have a second thought!
What are you going to do if God
comes and opens the door? What will you do next?'"
Your whole life has been a
journey, a pilgrimage, finding, searching. You are trained as a runner since
millions of years, and suddenly you meet God and you don't have anything to
say. What will you say?
Have you ever thought that if
you meet God by chance, neither will you have anything to say, nor will he have
anything to say? You unnecessarily burned yourself out, finished. Final
destination means ultimate death.
Ikkyu is right when he says, "No final destination, nothing of any
value" - everything is just to enjoy and dance and sing. But don't ask
about value; don't ask what is virtue and what is good. Rejoice in everything,
and go on in different pilgrimages knowing perfectly well that life is not
going to end anywhere, the journey will continue, the caravan will continue.
There is no place where the road ends.
Question
1:
Maneesha has asked:
Our beloved master,
When there is nothing to perceive - no input from the body or the mind
and so one has nothing by which to define oneself - is what is left witnessing?
There does not even seem to be a witness, but just the awareness that there is
no one there.
That's exactly right. There is
no witness, there is only witnessing. There is only consciousness, but no
personality to it, no form. There is only awareness, like a flame arising from
nowhere and disappearing into nowhere, and just in the middle you see the
flame.
Have you watched a candle,
where the flame goes? Gautam Buddha himself used as the word for the ultimate
experience, blowing out the candle. Nirvana means blowing out the candle.
Nothing is, just a pure awareness, not even confined into your individuality,
but just a floating cloud, no firm shape - a tremendous isness, a great joy.
But it is not your joy; you are
absent. Then arises in your absence the joy, the blissfulness. The moment you
are not, then the witnessing is pure. And this witnessing brings the greatest
benediction possible. This witnessing is the buddha.
We have been serious. Now
Sardar Gurudayal Singh, a man of great patience... Even if I go on the whole
night talking seriously, he will still wait that his time will come. A great
trust. That's why he can laugh before the joke is told: it shows a great trust
that whatever happens, something good is going to happen.
"My wife is like Venus De
Milo," says Paddy into his beer one night.
"Really?" says
Seamus, in surprise. "You mean she has a shapely body and stands around
naked?"
"No," replies Paddy.
"She's an old relic and not all there! Many parts are missing."
"Well, in that case,"
says Seamus, "my wife is like Mona Lisa."
"Why is that?" asks
Paddy. "Is it because she is Italian and has a mysterious, seductive
smile?"
"No," replies Seamus.
"It's because she is as flat as a canvas and belongs in a museum!"
Little Ernie gets the idea that
it might be fun to become a politician when he grows up. So his dad takes him
to Washington to watch the inauguration of the new American president, Adolf
Ramsbottom.
Little Ernie notices Father
Fungus, the bishop of New York, standing on the podium next to the new
president.
"Dad," whispers
Ernie, "is the priest there to pray for the president?"
"No, son," replies
his dad. "The truth is that the priest looks at the president - and then
prays for the rest of the world."
Kowalski goes into a crowded
bar for a few drinks after work. A couple of hours later, he feels the need to
take a shit, so he asks the bartender for directions to the toilet.
"It's upstairs,"
replies the barman, "down the hall, turn left, and second door on the
right."
Kowalski, who is pretty well
plastered by now, blinks at the bartender, and sets off in search of the
toilet.
He manages to get up the stairs
all right, but gets confused from there onwards. Finally, completely lost and
desperate to relieve himself, he pulls up a loose board from the floor and
makes his deposit.
But what Kowalski does not know
is that this floorboard is right in the middle of the ceiling of the bar below.
When he gets back downstairs,
he finds that the bar is completely deserted. The place smells awful.
Kowalski goes over to the
bartender, sits down at the bar and orders another drink.
"Where did everybody
go?" asks Kowalski, drunkenly.
"My God!" replies the
bartender. "Where were you when the shit hit the fan?"
Nivedano...
(Drumbeat)
(Gibberish)
Nivedano...
(Drumbeat)
Be silent. Close your eyes and
feel your body to be completely frozen.
Now look inwards with your
totality and with an urgency as if this is your last moment. Deeper and deeper,
like a spear, move towards the center. It is not far away, and the moment you
reach the center you are just a witness, witness of the body, witness of the
mind and witness of many new things - a silence, a peace, a deep serenity, a
cool breeze fragrant with thousands of roses.
At the center you belong to the
eternity. At the center you are the buddha.
The buddha is never born and
never dies; it is your very nature.
Recognize your very nature as
carefully as possible, because slowly, slowly we have to bring the buddha to
our ordinary life - in our actions, in our gestures, in our responses.
To bring the buddha from the
hidden center to the circumference of life is the whole art of religion.
Everything else is
non-essential, commentary.
To make it more clear,
Nivedano...
(Drumbeat)
Relax and watch. The body is
lying down, but you are not the body; the mind is there, but you are not the
mind.
You are just a pure witness.
You are not a person either.
Suddenly, the Buddha Auditorium
has become a lake of silent consciousness. Individuals are gone, like dewdrops
in the ocean. A tremendously precious moment...
Persuade the buddha, collect
all the flowers that are showering on you the peace, the silence, the
blissfulness. You have to bring them out in your actions, gestures, words,
silences.
My effort is to bring out as
many buddhas around the world, fully recognizing themselves... because that is
the only protection against the stupid politicians and the warmongers. They are
determined to destroy this beautiful planet.
Only a buddha-consciousness
spreading like wildfire and taking over the hearts of millions of men can
protect this small, beautiful planet.
In the whole universe - so
vast, unbounded, infinite - this small planet only is alive, and this small
planet only is conscious, and this small planet has been able to reach to the
highest consciousness in the buddhas.
Before Nivedano calls you back,
remember to gather as much experience of being on the center and bring it with
you.
Persuade the buddha every
day... Sooner or later the spring will come, and you will, without any doubt,
recognize your buddhahood. And your recognition is not only of your buddhahood;
your recognition is that the whole life is capable of being at the highest peak
of consciousness.
Nivedano...
(Drumbeat)
Come back, but bring the buddha
with you.
Show the buddha in every action
- even getting up, sitting down. Show the beauty and the grace and the music.
Life has to become a poetry, a
painting, a music, a dance.
Okay, Maneesha?
Yes, Beloved Master.