Jevan Rahasya #3

It is difficult to understand. The first difficulty is to understand that there is nowhere to go. Even this much is hard to grasp. The whole arrangement of our chitta, our mind, keeps saying: move, go somewhere; here there is nothing. The entire mind is woven out of this tension — go somewhere, somewhere far lies the goal. The very base of mind is that the goal be far; otherwise the mind disappears. Because if the goal is far, one has to try to attain, to think, to plan, to find devices. And if the goal is far, it will not be attained today, it will be attained tomorrow. So the strain from today toward tomorrow has to be maintained.

The mind lives in tension. And every tension, deep down, is the tension of reaching somewhere — whether it be wealth, fame, religion, or moksha. The mind dies the very moment you say: there is nowhere to go, there is simply nowhere to go. The whole foundation-stone of the mind’s existence is removed.

And as long as you are engaged in going somewhere, one thing is certain — you cannot be engaged in knowing yourself. Because this mind that takes you far does not allow you to come near. And this mind that takes you far is so clever that if you do go far, it will say that even to come near you need a path.

As if a man slept here at night and in a dream saw that he had gone to Calcutta; now, must he be brought back from Calcutta by some road? He never went! The truth is: from where we are, how can we actually go anywhere? Other than what we are, how can we be otherwise? We are where we are; only our mind has gone, only desire has gone. Even what of the mind going! Desire has gone — the craving has gone far — we stand right here.

Now the only question is this much: if, right where we stand, we arrest all desire, all thought, all craving where we stand — then what we are will be revealed to us.

Ordinarily this does not sink in, because all the experience of life says the goal is far. The spiritual experience is the exact opposite: the goal is not far at all; it is utterly close. Not even close — you yourself are the goal. So, when the goal is far, to connect with it you need a path, a discipline, a method, a technique — and time. It cannot be today; it cannot be now — sometime it will be. Then a guru is needed, a guide is needed, because the goal is ahead, the future is dark, we have never gone there. So someone is needed to show the way. If the goal is in the future, then the guru is indispensable, the shastra is indispensable — there will be a guide, an organization, a discipline, a technique.

But the delight is this: the goal is here — now, this very moment. There is nowhere to go to find it — only to stop. And the one who will stop is the one who drops seeking. For how can the seeking mind stop? It keeps seeking, keeps seeking.

You are not seeking — there is a state of no-seeking. Nothing at all is to be sought; just be. Then what will happen in this moment? In this very moment, when you are not elsewhere, consciousness will be exactly where it is. And here there will be a revelation — an explosion.

All methods proceed on the assumption that you have gone somewhere or that you have to go somewhere. So the mistake of method is glued to our mind that wants to go. And once you start learning methods, a guru is then required. Then everything follows behind — all of gurudom follows: ashram, sect, disciples — all of it follows.

A second delightful point — which does not occur to us — is this: if, at some moment, a person is not seeking anything and is not doing anything, still he will be somewhere. He will be — even if he neither seeks nor does nor thinks. Where will he be? All doors to be other than oneself are closed. He is not doing anything in which to get entangled, he is not thinking anything in which to get trapped, he is not seeking anything by which he might be carried away. Not seeking, not thinking, not doing — non-doing, non-seeking, non-thinking. Where will he be? Where can he go? He will not be annihilated. He will still be.

Then he will be exactly where he is. There is no way left for him — the outer-going doors are gone. All these doors lead outward. Then whatever state he is in — that will be his nature, his very form. That has to be revealed. And for the revelation of the inner nature, all methods are obstacles and all paths are obstacles, because they take you afar, send you on a search somewhere.

This is exceedingly hard to allow in abruptly. Once it is allowed, nothing could be simpler. But our mind is arranged to think only in this language — where to go? what to gain? how to go? And when someone shows a path, it seems to us he is speaking rightly — there must be a path, there must be a technique, one must reach.

Satyanand-ji said something very fine earlier. He said: whether by method or by no-method, by a technique or by no-technique, we are to reach the same and attain the same.

If you look closely, the statement is very amusing — and very significant. What does it mean? If you say, whether by method or by no-method, the goal is one, then you will end up seeking a method again — you cannot escape method. Because the method is tied to the idea of a goal. Then you cannot even think of no-method. And I am saying this precisely so that he can say: what I said is what he said; but I cannot say that what I said is what he said. What he said is exactly the opposite of what I am saying. I am not saying that one may reach by method and also reach by no-method. I am saying that the one with method cannot reach at all, because method always points to the future, to a goal. No-method points to oneself. In no-method there is no device for a goal — where will you go? There is no path. A path always leads somewhere — always takes you somewhere. The difficulty in spiritual life is precisely this: here we have nowhere to go; we have to be, for even a single instant, exactly where we are. So if we take up any path, we go astray.

People say the path leads you to the goal; I say, the path only misleads. In every other matter the statement is perfectly right — if you want to go to the station you take a road; if you want to go to Bombay you take a road. In one single matter it is wrong: if you want to come to yourself, you cannot come by any road, because to step onto a road is the beginning of going far.

Then what to do? The question arises: what is one to do?

My suggestion is: understand the situation rightly. Let the whole situation be seen — there is such a tangle that if you take a path, you have gone astray.

They explain it like this — that there is also a path to go within.

The delight — and the difficulty — is that a path is only for going outward, because within we already are.

They keep explaining it like that.

The real difficulty is this — it is not that we have become outside and have to come inside. If we understand rightly, it is not that we are outside and must come in. We are already within; there is no way to be outside. If there were a way to be outside, then the reverse way would also exist. Tell me, how could you possibly be outside yourself? Wherever you go, you will be within. There is simply no way to go outside. But the imagination of an outside can be there. You cannot actually go out.

You are sitting here; you cannot go to Calcutta — but you can dream of going to Calcutta, there is no difficulty in that. With eyes closed you can go to Calcutta — in the sense that thought can go. But even then you will still be here. You will be here — within yourself.

So the thing to understand is that we are already within; therefore there is no question of going within. The question is of dropping the roads by which we have gone outside in imagination. The real problem is this: if I am sitting in this room, I do not have to come into this room; only this room has vanished for me and I am seeing Calcutta. By some journey of thought I have reached Calcutta. I am in this room, yet in a sense I am at the Calcutta station — this room is not visible, the station is what I see. Then the question arises before me: how to return home? If I had truly reached Calcutta, then I would have to catch some train, some car, some road to reach this room. If I had truly arrived there, then to return I would need a road. But since I haven’t truly gone — I am only dreaming — any road I take will only delude me further, because what meaning can roads taken in a dream have?

The only thing needed is to wake up to the fact that I am within — always — only my thought has gone outside, and I never went outside my inner self. Then what remains to be done?

Now the question that remains is that thought should not go. And why did thought go?

Because I sent it. And I sent it because there is something to be gained in Calcutta which is not available here — that is why it went. There is some longing that would be fulfilled there, not here — that is why it went.

Thought went riding the vehicle of vasana, of craving; we remained where we are. If this basic truth is grasped — that we are where we are, thought has gone riding on the vehicle of vasana — then things become clear.

Understand: a man sits here; his thought is in Calcutta. He asks, how do I return home? Suppose we say to him, take a plane and come back! Where will he go? Which plane will he catch? As false as Calcutta is, that much will the plane caught in Calcutta be false. He is not in Calcutta at all. The airplane will be false, the ticket false, the pilot false, the guide who takes him to the plane false. Because being in Calcutta is fundamentally false, anything done in Calcutta cannot be true — it will be false. And the false never returns you home.

So the only question is to know this — we do not have to come within; we would need to come if we had truly gone outside. We are within; we do not have to come; we never left. Only our thought has gone out. If thought subsides, we will instantly find that we are within. As when you are sitting here and daydreaming that you are in Calcutta, and I come and shake you — you will not wake up in Calcutta; you will wake up here! No vehicle is needed to return from Calcutta.

This is the basic truth — that we have never gone outside ourselves. That from which you can go outside cannot be your real nature. How could we ever go outside our fundamental nature? But we seem to have gone. One falsehood is that we seem to have gone; another falsehood is then fostered — how to return? Then we clutch at methods, religions, worship, rituals — these are the roads we take for returning.

The amusing thing is that the going itself was a mistake — so what is the meaning of returning? Such a person only needs to be made aware of just this much: you have not gone anywhere; from eternity you are where you are. But from eternity your mind is wandering; imagination wanders; you are lost in dreams. Be kind — for a little while do not dream; for a little while do not think; for a little while be exactly where you are. Then you will find what is already found.

Hence the issue is not of method, it is of no-method. Because methods take you away; paths take you away. Therefore the matter is not of a path, but of no-path. The guru is someone who is to take you somewhere. We have nowhere to reach — we already are where we are. What guru can take us there? Therefore there is no need of a guru — the guru-question does not arise. The guru is a part of the same dream-land in which we take our wandering to be real, and then we also take the guide to be real. We touch his feet and make him our guru. And where will the one who is taking us actually take us? We are not in Calcutta.

All I am saying is only this much: our being is always exactly where it is; and our mind is always where we are not. Between this mind and us a distance has arisen. This distance is purely imaginary. If it were an actual distance, then a path would certainly be needed. But this distance is false.

To dissolve this distance, nothing else is needed except to understand the mind’s habit of going out — why, why does it go out?

It goes because there is something to gain there. Then a guru comes and says: if you want moksha… and he creates a new desire. He says moksha is there. Worldly things can be found here on earth; moksha is not even here on the earth. It is there — very far, on Siddha-shila — there is moksha. Do you want to attain it? There is peace there; there is bliss there; the supreme nectar is raining there. Your greed is stirred, your covetousness is provoked. What happens within you? Greed arises — I too want such peace, such bliss; I too want moksha.

And the joke is that greed was the very medium by which you went out. And now you say, I also want moksha — show me the path! Moksha is utterly a matter of darkness — in it any kind of guru can function. No guru can be disproved there. If there were actually somewhere to go, by now one guru would have won out — there would be no difficulty. We would have found something certain — that this is the road. As in science, one master wins and the rest fail — because the matter concerns reality. But this desire for moksha has been inflamed — peace, bliss, beauty — the greed is stirred, you set out on a long journey.

Journeys on this earth are still real; the journey you now undertake is totally a blind game. Therefore the guru says: obedience is needed; doubt is not needed. Because if there is doubt and not obedience, he cannot take you even an inch. So first he arranges it — if you doubt, you are lost. Obey! What the guru says is the supreme truth. You do not know; we know. How can you doubt what we tell you? You do not know. When you know, then all right. Follow us! Now a dark road begins, because from a place where we had never gone, this man begins to show the way back.

If just one thing is seen rightly, the question is only this much — the rays of thought that we have flung outward should return. And even for returning, nothing has to happen — they will not truly return, because there is no question of actual returning. We had only gone in imagination. And imagination goes because it rides on greed. Again it mounts greed — moksha, heaven, liberation — once more it rides on greed. And the guru exploits the same greed. The guru exploits greed.

Therefore, those whose greed for wealth will be sated will fall into the greed for religion. This is gained — fine; now moksha too is needed. The guru exploits greed. He says: we will get you what you want. Hence I say, all gurudom is deluded and dangerous. It is not that there are good gurus and bad gurus — no; guru as such is the problem.

A second point. Many things do not come at once into our view — it becomes very difficult. Take any technique — what will happen in any technique? The mind will do something, whatever it may be. If it is Rama-Rama, Rama-Rama, Rama-Rama — they teach you to chant. If it is Allah, then Allah; if it is Jesus, then Jesus. They do not care — whatever your name, chant that. Repeat it loudly, again and again. In the whole process of repetition, if the mind is fixed on a single word, it becomes stupefied. The trick of hypnosis is only this much. By it you do not come to yourself. Calcutta may disappear, but you do not return to yourself — you fall into stupor. That is, from dream you move into sleep, not into awakening. Any repetition — they were saying the exact opposite — any repetition dulls the brain. And therefore our brains gradually dull, because for twenty-four hours we have to repeat — the same thing every day, the same thing. From that, dullness grows and the freshness of the brain begins to evaporate, because everything becomes routine.

Hence the new attracts us so much. If you are bored of Ahmedabad, Pahalgam appears delightful. Its delight has less to do with Pahalgam and more with Ahmedabad — Ahmedabad has produced dullness by repetition, you are bored. But one who lives here does not enjoy Pahalgam; he longs to see Ahmedabad, Bombay, Poona. And the day he sees them, he will be as delighted as you are — because his place had become routine, dull; there was nothing to see there — the same sun, the same moon, the same mountains, the same trees. The way you saw the trees on the first day — you do not see them today. That touch is gone. It has become repetition. The mind grows dull with repetition. It can even happen that one who lives on the mountain no longer sees the mountain — that is no difficulty. If you stay here four to six months, the mountain and the plants will cease to be seen; the mind becomes dull — it has all become repetition.

The mind awakens to the new and grows dull to the old. And whatever we do becomes repetition. Everything becomes repetition. Whatever you do, you repeat. Repetition brings dullness.

The delight is this: if we do nothing, simply are, then because nothing is being done, the question of repetition does not arise. It is an unrepeatable experience — because we are not doing anything that can be repeated. If we did something, it could be repeated. We do not do — we simply are. Then the mind becomes a reservoir. It is not flowing outward anywhere. As if a stream ceased to go anywhere and settled — dams on all sides — the stream became a lake. It does not go anywhere; there is nowhere to go. A silent lake — not even a ripple. Then all energy, all freshness, all youthfulness will arise in that state. That youthfulness, that energy, that dynamic force will create much — but you will not be occupied. Creation will happen. That is its automatic flowering. Just as a tree flowers, so will things flower from you. But you will not be doing them — they will be happening. And when they happen, the burden of the mind is gone; there is no load on the mind. In such a state, the experience is of liberation — of being unburdened.

If you wish, false experiences of such peace can be produced. The greatest power of the mind is that it can project false experiences. Any experience whatsoever it can project if it wants.

Kedarnath lived in the Himalayas for some thirty years. And within thirty years he became certain that he had had the vision of God. God began to appear daily; there was conversation; everything was seen. There was no scope for doubt — when God stands before you, what is there to doubt! There was talk, there was communion. He was alone there. Then he returned. Coming down, because the God he saw did not appear to his neighbor, a doubt arose in him — perhaps this is only my illusion, what I am seeing? Thirty years of continuous hunger, thirst, and a single fixation — perhaps it has begun to appear? He said: let me drop the practice for a few days, and if the visions still continue, I will know they are real, not practice-produced. But when the practice stopped, God disappeared. It was practice-born.

A Sufi fakir was brought to me. He saw God in everything — in plants, in stones — God everywhere. When he walked the road, he saw only God on all sides — greatly delighted. Some Muslims brought him to me. They said: this is a marvelous fakir — everywhere only God, in every particle He appears.

I asked him: did this appear to you suddenly or did you make some arrangement and plan for it?

He said: nothing can happen suddenly. And you cannot trust the sudden either. As Mahesh-ji just said, the sudden cannot be trusted. So I arranged it — I practiced. I began to see God in every single thing. If a flower appeared, I would say: God. But that was thirty years ago. Constantly practicing, practicing — it began to appear. Now God appears to me everywhere.

I said to him: stay with me three days and stop the practice.

He said: how can I stop the practice?

I said: even now you cannot stop, when God appears everywhere? Then it still depends on your practice that He appears? That is, He has still not appeared on His own.

Mental projection!

Yes — projection. He said: no-no, not so; He has begun to appear. I said: stay three days.

He stayed. Perhaps on the second night, around two in the morning, he began to weep. I got up and went to him — what happened?

He started wailing: you have ruined me! All is destroyed! What fate brought me to you! I have lost everything. A day and a half without practice and nothing appears to me. A flower appears only as a flower, a leaf only as a leaf — all my experience is lost.

I said: an experience that shows up by thirty years of practice and disappears in a day and a half — do you understand what it is worth? It is your projection. It can stand only so long as you constantly project it; otherwise it collapses. As with a film — there is nothing on the screen; because we project, there is something. Stop the projector for a second and the film vanishes — the screen is empty. Just as we can see things on a screen, so can we project onto the screen of mind. As long as the projection continues, things will continue to appear.

What I am saying is: that should appear which does not depend on our practice. Therefore I am an opponent of systems — because the system will be ours; the technique will be ours.

What Mahesh-ji said is right — it is safer, secure, organized, mathematically accountable. Do this and that will happen. And he is exactly right — do this and that will happen.

But what happens will depend on the doing; it will be a by-product. It happens because you do this. It is like this: I drink alcohol and huge flowers begin to appear to me; I say to you — you also drink and you too will see huge flowers. If you do not see them, complain to me. You too drink and you too see huge flowers. And you say: absolutely right — the flowers look huge, very huge.

If alcohol makes flowers look large, the flowers do not become large; alcohol merely hypnotizes your state of mind — nothing else happens. The question is not what we manage to see. The question is: what is? The question is not what we can realize; the question is: what is. We have nothing to realize, nothing to project; we do not carry a fixed idea of what to see, what to experience, what to perceive. If we go with a fixed idea, everything will happen — the web of mind is so astonishing, the play so amazing, that it can show you whatever you want to see. There is no difficulty in that.

Those two or three ladies who were saying there — it is happening to us — they are right.

They do not understand — it is illusion; they cannot see that.

How can they see it? They cannot see because there is fear in seeing — the fear is: if we see that it is illusion, everything slips from the hand. And half of it will be gone tonight. You have no idea — for half of them, tonight it will already be difficult to sleep. If just this thought gets in — what if this is illusion? I am not saying it is, I only plant the thought — what if it is illusion! If this thought catches hold, the illusion will not come tomorrow morning. That doubt cuts illusion at once. Tomorrow morning it will be difficult — gone! Once the doubt arises — that what I am seeing, is it even there? That’s all!

Only the undoubting mind can create illusion. One who never doubts, who never questions — only he can create illusion.

These illusions, these experiences, can all be false if they are mentally projected.

In America and France there is a school of Coué. A French thinker — Coué. He says: become whatsoever you think. If you are ill, think I am healthy, I am healthy, I am healthy — and you will become healthy. The amusing thing is — the disease does not go and the man begins to feel healthy. One who could not walk yesterday starts walking. One who could not leave the bed leaves the bed. Strength seems to appear. The disease remains where it is; it does not go anywhere. It will remain. Had this man stayed in bed, perhaps the disease could have been cured by some real treatment. Now he will not even treat it — because he is standing in an illusion that he is healthy! Who says I am ill? Coué says: if someone says you are ill, do not admit it; reject his statement. If you accept it, you will become ill.

Certainly there are ailments that can arise by believing — they are false. And there is health that can arise by believing — it is false. The difference between real and fake health is very difficult to discern — you sit believing that you are genuinely healthy.

I say there is one difference: fake health you have to produce by believing; real health you do not have to produce by believing. Even if you do not believe, it is there. Real health is — you do not have to believe in it. Fake health has to be produced by belief.

Peace can be produced that is fake; health can be produced that is fake; light can be produced; God can be produced — all fake. And producing the fake is very easy — the mind is immediately ready for it. For the mind it is very simple. Knowing the real is difficult — for that the mind has to be dismissed. And the mind always demands security. Even to sleep at night in a room, it will ensure all locks and doors are secure; that there is no danger. Even before reading a book it will ascertain that the book is good — no harmful things written in it. Before choosing a guru it will ask fifty people if he is authentic, whether he has brought anyone to the goal — then I too will follow him. The mind demands security — because it is afraid it may die. And the more you provide it with all kinds of securities, the stronger it becomes, the safer it becomes.

A sannyasi means one who says: I do not ask for security; I live in insecurity. I do not say whether something will be there tomorrow or not. We shall see in the morning. Whether this person is good or bad — why should I think? At most, if at night he takes away the bedding, he takes it away. Why should I judge what he is? We do not think at all. We live silently, moment to moment. Only one who lives in such insecurity can have an explosion in the mind — because then the mind cannot go on living; it will have to die. The mind needed organization; the arrangement has ended. It said: carry money in the pocket. It said: keep arrangements in the bank. It said: keep a store of virtue even with God. Keep everything accounted so nothing goes wrong. And the greater the accounting, the more dead is what becomes available.

They were saying — so much safety, so much… it went on long — it was pointless to speak. The more security, the more safety — the more dead the man. The more insecurity, the more risk — the more living the man. And the delight is — if even in matters of God you are not ready to take risk, if there too you want everything firmly guaranteed, then it will be very difficult.

God means this very thing — the Unknown that surrounds us on all sides. There one has to leap, leaving the shore. The shore was perfectly safe. There was no danger of drowning on the shore. The shore is very secure. And one who stands on the shore can stand there for a lifetime. But the ocean is known only to the one who jumps from the shore. There is danger there. Because there is danger, there is life there. And our mind constantly demands that everything be organized, systematic.

The great amusement is that life is not systematic at all — life is very anarchic. And it is anarchic because it is living.

Discern the difference: a stone is highly systematic; a flower is not so systematic. The flower has life. The stone was there yesterday, is there today, will be there tomorrow. The flower is here in the morning, by evening it is gone. It has no certainty. It is here now — a strong wind and it will fall. It is here now — the sun will rise and it will wither. It is here now — the rains will come and it will dissolve. The stone will remain — very systematic, very consistent — the same, sitting there. But the stone is dead in this very sense; the flower has a living quality.

So I say, the deeper one wishes to go toward truth, the more one must drop arrangements for safety. One must know — I go into danger. Secure life is here; there is danger there. But one who prepares to step into the ultimate danger — this very preparedness becomes transformation within. For to go into danger is to be transformed. Leaving all arrangement and all security, the one who steps into the unknown — this very readiness, this courage becomes a mutation within; a change happens within. And the greater the insecurity one is ready to enter, the more truly safe one becomes — because then there is no fear left, no dread left.

This habit of measuring every inch — it is these measurers who have drawn maps of heaven and hell and given distances in yojanas — so that everything remains certain, nothing unknown remains. But there is something that is continually unknown. That is God. That is life — the unknown. What is dead we can be safe about tomorrow. What is alive — what it will be tomorrow, nothing can be said. With the living there is great difficulty — and we arrange and by arranging we kill it.

And the wonder is — whenever a system is made, it becomes false. It becomes false because it cannot tolerate contradictions. So contradictions have to be removed. It is as if a painter makes a painting and brings black and white and makes a picture out of them. That is contradiction. Then another painter comes and says: there is too much contradiction here — somewhere white, somewhere black — this does not look trustworthy. Either let it be all black — then we know what it is — or all white — then we know what it is. He paints one canvas entirely white, another entirely black. They have become two things — but neither is a painting. Both are perfectly clean — no opposites in them at all.

Life is made of a totality of opposites. In everything there is opposition. So one who goes to understand the whole of life must accept all kinds of opposites — that they are. Both are there — and both are forms of one. If someone says this, it will look contradictory — that this is going too far.

For instance, I say — to attain That nothing at all has to be done. But I do not say that those who are doing nothing will attain it. Now this appears contradictory! I say — nothing has to be done to attain That. But this does not mean that those who are doing nothing will attain it. Absolutely contradictory. Yet if my point is understood, it will be clear.

When I say not-doing anything, it does not mean doing nothing. Not-doing anything does not mean doing nothing. Otherwise anyone doing nothing while strolling on the road should get it. I am not saying that. The one walking on the road is also doing something. The one we call a person doing nothing — he too is doing something. A man sitting in a temple is doing something. A sannyasi is doing something. In truth, no one is standing in such a state where nothing at all is being done. If someone stands, he attains.

But this not-doing, as I said, is very difficult. It is not difficult because some technique could make it easy. It is difficult because our habit is of doing. And technique will not make it easy — it will not allow it to happen, because technique will only strengthen the habit of doing. When I say that this not-doing… as he said, let us do non-doing by a technique, for it is difficult — then it will become easy.

I call it difficult not so that it may become easy. I call it difficult because our mind’s habit is of doing; it has no habit of non-doing. And technique is also doing. The mind will agree to it — let us do. But however much you do, how will doing lead to non-doing? How can doing become non-doing? At some moment it will have to be seen that by doing it does not happen. When doing drops, non-doing remains.

The great difficulty is in abiding in non-doing. Give you anything to do — chant Rama-Rama — and you can abide; the difficulty is then over. But then the whole point is lost. The point was to abide in non-doing. Many times we say — as he said — some dreams are deep, some shallow. This is not the question. It is like saying one man stole two coins and another stole two lakh — one theft small, one theft big. If you understand rightly, can theft be small or big? Theft is a quality of mind — a thief! Whether he steals two coins or two lakhs is not the question at all. The same chitta is needed for stealing two coins as for stealing two crores — thief! The figures are of two coins and two lakhs — not of theft. The mind of the thief is identical — whether he steals two coins, a pebble, or two crores. None can say that the one who steals two coins is a small thief and the one who steals two crores is a big thief. Are there small and big thieves? There are small and big opportunities — the thief is not small or big. One got the chance to steal two coins, one got the chance to steal two crores. The thief’s mind is one. Theft is not small or big.

One man dreams an ordinary, light dream. Another dreams a very deep dream. These differences are like the differences between stealing two coins and two lakhs. A dream is a dream; sleep is sleep; awakening is awakening. Between the two there is no ladder at all. A sleeping man is a sleeping man; an awakened man is an awakened man. There is no gap between the two. And where there are ladders to be climbed — that this man is a little awakened, that man a little more awakened — it is not so. Awakening has no quantity — it is not small or big. Awake! You lie on the bed; one outside may say you are a little awake — you turn, you open your eyes. But you are fully awake — you keep lying down, that is another matter. Awakening is not of the sort that you awaken a little. You awaken.

But to the mind this looks difficult; it wants steps. It says: show us the staircase. First step, second step, third step — show steps. Because our capacity is small; we cannot climb the whole flight, we will go one step.

This demand of man produces stairs. And there are stair-makers. Those who can use a little cleverness can produce fifty steps. Then everyone gets satisfaction — you on the first step, he on the second, he on the third. All are satisfied. But where there are no steps at all — where is the first, where the second, where the third?

In my vision, realization is not like climbing a staircase; it is like jumping off the roof. There are no steps in it at all. The man jumps — that is all. But the mind wants to climb — remember this too. The ego relishes climbing; it does not enjoy descending. The ego says, take me upwards — one more step, one more step. Whatever the steps, the ego says, take me up. Therefore the ego grasps path, method, technique, guru, shastra — grasps all. Religion says: jump! What climbing is possible here? Here you have to descend totally to the very bottom. And even descending would have been possible if there were steps. There are none — you can only jump, only take the leap.

We do not gather the courage to leap — and we say, this is too much. Simplify it. Some technique, some arrangement, some method by which we can get it in bits. Let us get one fragment first; another later — get it in installments. That is our idea. It does not come in installments.

Everyone is seeking — seeking peace, seeking happiness, seeking bliss. Tell someone, do not seek. He says, then I am finished. Where he stands, he feels only misery; he thinks if he does not seek, he is lost — because where he is, there is only anxiety and sorrow. And you say, do not seek. Then what will happen?

He does not know what the state of no-seeking is. He has never known it — he has always been seeking. As a child he sought toys; later he sought degrees; later he sought moksha. From the beginning, the small child begins to seek; the old man dies seeking. Not for a single moment does he come upon what no-seeking is. And he says: if I do not seek, I am lost. We were not not-seeking earlier — if it had to happen, it would have happened then.

Someone comes to me and says: we have come to you so that you put us on a search. We were not searching earlier — if it had to be attained, it would have been attained by now.

I say: you were indeed searching, but something else — not this. It was not no-seeking.

This no-seeking is altogether a different thing. And the moment one abides in no-seeking, there is an explosion.

He said earlier that he has no guru. That is right — I have no guru. But I am not denying the guru because of that. Nor am I denying because I cannot say what the system is. Is it difficult to make a system? If a man can reflect a little, what difficulty is there in constructing a system? It is very simple to construct an arrangement. The great thing is to enter disorder. To build a system is the simplest thing; to enter anarchy is the great thing. And such a revolution is beyond our imagination.

All those people there are in difficulty — and their difficulty is very deep. They are in defense. The whole time they were in defense. Because if this is true, then this guru, this practice, this whole business — it all goes. So they are busy defending — no, this cannot be right; we cannot accept it; how can we accept it? It is not a question of understanding — it is defense that is running full-time in the mind. If it were a matter of understanding, it would be seen instantly. Therefore my message is a little difficult — difficult because I am not giving what the mind wants. And I cannot give it, because giving it is to nourish the mind, to strengthen it. It should break — not be strengthened.