Karuna Aur Kranti #2

My beloved Atman!
Meditation means: surrender, a total let-go.
Meditation means: to drop oneself utterly.
And the moment a person drops himself totally, he falls into the hands of Paramatma. So long as we are holding on to ourselves, union with the supreme power is not possible. We will have to drop ourselves. We will have to lose ourselves. We will have to vanish; only then can we become one with that which truly is. If a wave clings tightly to itself, it can never be the ocean; and if the wave lets itself go, dissolves, disappears, it is the ocean itself.
Meditation is not some act to be done. Meditation is the dropping of all acts. Meditation is not a practice you can perform. Meditation is the dropping of all practices. Meditation is simply to remain—as we are, what we are. And to do nothing.
So, to understand this state of meditation, first we will do two or three small experiments, so that from within you can have the feel of what meditation is. After that we will sit for meditation.
And meditation is difficult to explain in words. If there were an act, a practice, it could be conveyed in words. But to bring a little taste, a feel of meditation into your awareness is easy. So we will do three small experiments through which the flavor of meditation can be felt. Then, after that, we will sit for meditation.
Understand the first experiment. We will do it for five minutes. Then the second; then the third; and then the fourth experiment will be the meditation itself.
The first experiment is to be understood only by trying it within. I will say something here; you will experiment there. First, sit at a little distance from each other—no one touching anyone. Let no one be touched by anyone. Move a little forward or a little back, a little aside on the grass, but let there be no physical contact. Then gently close your eyes. Do not close them tightly. Do not strain the eyes; close them very softly. As if the eyelids have simply fallen and the eyes are closed. There should be no strain on the eyes. And let your whole being go loose. Close the eyes and let go. Let there be no tension anywhere in the body.
Now inside, I ask you to do only one imagining, so that you can get the feel of what meditation means. Within, see a great river flowing. Between mountains a great river is flowing. Strong waves, a strong current. A mountain river. See within that between two mountains a great river rushes speedily. There is a powerful flow, a powerful sound, waves, swift movement—and the river is flowing on. See it, see it clearly. The river is rushing swiftly. It will soon become clearly visible.
You have to enter this river, but not to swim—only to float. Enter this river and begin to be carried by it. Do not move your hands and feet; just be carried, be carried, be carried. Do not move your limbs. Do not swim; just float away.
We have let ourselves go into the river and the river is racing on, and we are being carried, being carried, being carried... There is nowhere to reach, no bank to arrive at. There is no destination; therefore there is no question of swimming. Only floating. Let go, and float. The feeling that will arise in floating with the river will later help you to understand meditation. For five minutes, let yourself go in that river and be carried away. There is no end to the river; it keeps on flowing. You too have begun to be carried. There is nothing to do; do not even move your hands and feet—only be carried, only be carried. See, the river is flowing; you too have begun to flow with it. Do not swim even a little—just be carried away...
For five minutes I will be silent—experience the floating, the being carried.
Being carried away, being carried away, you have left yourself to the river—not even a trace of swimming. Do not even move your hands and feet. Being carried away. As a dry leaf floats downstream in a river—let yourself go like that. See, being carried away, being carried away, being carried away... And along with the floating a certain experience will begin—of surrender, of sarender. Let yourself go with the river; an experience of let-go will begin. Float, keep floating. The river is flowing fast, the waves are racing swiftly; you too have been left in the river and are being carried. There is nothing to do; keep being carried...
Drop utterly, and be carried. The river rushes faster, and you are flowing away.
Experience this rightly—the sense of being carried. Understand well this experience of floating—what it is. Later it will help in meditation. Understand clearly what this experience of being carried is—when we are not even moving our limbs and the river goes on taking us, taking us, taking us. The river is doing everything; we are doing nothing. See this rightly, so the feel becomes clear. The river is doing everything; we are doing nothing; we are only being carried—like a dry leaf.
Now slowly open your eyes and we will do the second experiment for five minutes, as I say. Open your eyes gently.
Meditation is surrender.
Meditation is losing oneself.
Meditation is disappearing.
Meditation is dissolving in every way.
Our falling is necessary; our vanishing is necessary. Our being is the obstacle. As when a tree is felled and the tree falls; as when a seed lies in the soil and cracks and dissolves; just so, within, we too have to scatter and disappear.
Understand the second experiment in the direction of this disappearing. Close your eyes and let yourself go loose.
We understood the first point—floating. Now understand the second point—disappearing completely. Close your eyes. Very gently close the eyes and let the body go loose. The eyes are closed; the body is left loose. See: right in front a funeral pyre is burning. Logs are heaped, the flames have caught fiercely, the pyre is burning strongly. See the pyre burning. The fire has taken hold of the wood, the burning has begun. See the pyre clearly. The fire has taken, flames are leaping high toward the sky, the pyre is ablaze.
Secondly, see clearly that you are not merely looking at the pyre—you have been laid upon that pyre. You have been placed upon it. All your friends, your loved ones stand around you. The fire has been lit, you are on the pyre. Not only the wood is burning—you too are burning. The flames lick the wood; you too are being consumed.
In a little while all will be ash—the wood and you as well. Feel yourself laid upon your own pyre. See—your own body is on that pyre before you, burning in the flames.
Do this experience for five minutes, so that the sense of disappearing may come into your awareness. One day the pyre will burn in fact; one day you will be laid upon it. Everyone will have to lie upon it. So today, before your mind, see it clearly: the burning flames of the pyre, the fire-crests racing skyward—and you are laid on it. Not only the logs are burning—you too are being burned. See—the flames keep rising stronger. Your body too is being burned; everything is being erased, everything is ending. In a little while even the fire will go out; only ash will remain. People will depart; the cremation ground will become empty, deserted.
Now see—you are laid upon the pyre. I will be silent...
The flames will keep burning. You have nothing to do. The flames will burn, they will reduce everything to ash. For a little while a crowd of friends, of loved ones will stand around; then they too will depart. Then only ash will remain. The cremation ground will become silent.
See, begin; see the flames clearly, and that you too are laid upon them and are burning. There is nothing to do. What is there to do in burning? Only to be burned. The fire will do the work; the flames will do the work. You have nothing to do—only to be burned, to disappear. For five minutes keep seeing yourself placed upon the pyre, upon the fire. Then slowly the flames will die down; all will become quiet.
Keep this experience of disappearing well in memory; it will serve in meditation.
The flames keep rising; the body keeps burning; you too continue to be burned. The flames keep mounting; you too keep disappearing. All will become smoke, all will become ash; the cremation ground will fall silent. Do not attempt even a little to save yourself; leave yourself to the flames so that all may burn, all may vanish, all may become ash.
See—the flames keep rising, the smoke keeps increasing; everything is burning. You yourself are burning away, disappearing.
See this very clearly so that it becomes helpful in meditation, because meditation too is a kind of death. See clearly—everything is burning, everything is vanishing, everything is ending. And you have nothing at all to do—only to be burned, to disappear. The fire will do all the work. What will you do? The fire is doing everything; it is burning you away. The flames race on; everything is disappearing.
In the river there was at least the possibility to swim; here there is not even that. Here there is no way to swim. Everything is being erased; the flames are finishing everything! See—smoke alone will remain, ash will remain, the cremation ground will be silent, people will depart.
Winds are blowing, the flames are leaping stronger, the winds are fanning the flames. Everything is being burned, everything is being burned, everything is being burned; in a little while all will be ash. The winds have made the flames even more fierce.
See—everything has burned. The flames are dying down, ash lies scattered, people have begun to depart. Silence has descended on the cremation ground. The winds will still keep moving, the ash will keep flying; no one will be in the cremation ground; people have begun to depart. All has become silence. You have disappeared; only ash remains.
See this well. It is utterly necessary to see this in meditation. See clearly—everything lies there as remains. Only ash remains, a few extinguished embers remain, people have gone. Now no one is in the cremation ground, the fire has gone out, you too have disappeared.
Now slowly open your eyes and understand the third experiment, and then do it. Open your eyes gently and sit properly.
First, understand what it means to be carried. Second, understand what it means to disappear. And now the third thing to be understood—the name of the third thing is: tathata, suchness.
This third thing will take you farther than both of the previous. And these three steps must be understood well.
Tathata or suchness means: ‘Things are so.’ A sound comes from the road because sounds must come on the road. Birds are making noise because birds will make noise. The waves of the sea crash on the shore and there is sound—because what else can the sea’s waves do? What is happening, is as it is; it is thus! It can only be thus; there is no other way! Tathata means there is no reason to be in opposition. There is no need to expect that something other should happen. As it is, so it is. The grass is green, the sky is blue, the waves of the sea are roaring, birds are calling, crows are cawing, people are moving on the road, cars make their sounds, horns are blowing—such it is! In this state of happening we have no opposition. We have become consented to it. We are totally agreed that it is so. We do not wish that the crows should stop cawing; we do not wish that people should not blow horns on the road; we do not wish that the sea’s waves should not make noise. Such is the world!
This too has to be remembered about the world—that it is such, and for this we are wholly in agreement. We have no opposition to it. And within, regarding ourselves, we must remember: it is such. An ant is biting the foot and there is pain—it is such. The ant bites and there is pain in the foot. There is no opposition in this; this is what is happening. From above the sun is shining and beads of sweat are flowing. Fine—if the sun shines, sweat will flow. There is no opposition in this, nothing to be done; it is to be accepted—it is such!
And the moment we accept this, our opposition goes, resistance goes—and right then, within, something that has always been restless begins to become quiet. It has been restless because it has always wanted that it ‘should be thus.’ It has never agreed that ‘it is thus.’ The sun falls, rays come, so sweat will flow, there will be heat—this it has not accepted. It has wanted that the sun should not be, that the rays should not be hot, that sweat should not flow. For one who is to enter meditation, such longing becomes a great obstacle.
Not ‘how it should be,’ but ‘as it is, it is!’ This is the sole meaning of becoming quiet—that as it is, it is! And we are wholly in agreement with it. This is the third point—tathata!
So for five minutes: things are such; we have nothing to do. There is no way to do. When we were not, things were such. The sea roared even then, crows cawed, birds cried, the road moved along. When we will not be, things will still be such. Then when we are, if things are also such, what is the trouble? What difficulty is there? What relation has our being or not being with this whole happening?
Close your eyes; gently let the eyes go loose; leave the body at rest; leave the body loose, relaxed. Close your eyes; let the body be loose. And now enter the third experiment—tathata, things are such!
We have nothing to do—things are such. The world is such. Then what disturbance is there? What trouble is there? Things are such. A child is a child; an old man is old. The healthy are healthy; the sick are sick. Birds are calling, the grass is green, the sky is blue; somewhere the sun is falling, somewhere there is shade—it is such!
Now feel: things are such; we have no opposition. Non-opposition, no resistance. We have no opposition. Amidst these things, we too are. For five minutes feel this way—no opposition, no opposition, no opposition. What is, as it is—we are in agreement with it.
We do not want to change anything; we do not wish to erase anything; we do not wish to create anything. As it is, so it is; we are in agreement with it.
For five minutes let yourself remain in this state of consent. See—now the cawing of crows will sound different. When we are in agreement, the cawing of crows will sound different. There is no opposition to it. Then the wall between us and it will break. Listen!
The sound of the road will sound different. If we have no opposition, the sound of the road will sound different. Listen!
The roar of the sea no longer seems like an enemy. It does not seem a disturbance. Listen! We have no opposition. What is, is as it is.
For five minutes, being in agreement with what is, drown into it.
See—now the sunlight does not appear the same. What is, is. Now nothing appears as before; we are not like enemies—we are like friends; we are in agreement with what is.
Keep this third key well in mind—tathata, suchness; things are such. Understand well that things are such.
Things are such—no opposition, no enmity; no longing that it be otherwise; things are such. The sun is hot, the shade is cool; the sea is engaged in its own work; the wayfarers on the road are engaged in theirs; keep not even a trace of opposition—only that this is happening, happening, happening, and we are knowing it—no changing anything, no erasing anything, no alteration.
Understand this third key rightly, for it is utterly necessary to take you into the depths of meditation. Things are such.
Now slowly open your eyes.
Now understand two or three things regarding meditation, and then we will sit for meditation.
I have tried to explain these three keys to you separately, because all three will be necessary in meditation.
First: to be carried—not to swim.
All life long we swim, we do not float. There are things that can never be attained by swimming—only by floating. Existence, truth, or Paramatma can never be attained by swimming. Only by floating. Whoever agrees to float will reach the ocean. The river herself carries you. Whoever agrees to float—life itself carries him; he need not go anywhere. Whoever swims will go astray. At the most, the swimmer will reach from this bank to the other bank—but not to the ocean. One who is to reach the ocean has no need to swim. He has no need to fight the river. He should simply be carried. The river is already going toward the ocean.
Life itself is moving toward Paramatma; if we do not obstruct, life by itself brings us to Paramatma. We create stoppages here and there—and then it cannot reach.
Therefore, the first experience—floating.
Second, the experience of disappearing.
All life long we are engaged in trying to save ourselves—somehow to protect ourselves. Nothing can be more delusive. We are not the ones who can be saved. And that which is indeed to be saved needs no saving—it is saved already. That which we are busy trying to save is bound to disappear; hence we are trying to save it. And none of our efforts will help—it will vanish anyway. And that which is to be saved will not be saved by our efforts. It is saved already; there is no way for it to be destroyed. That within us which is to be saved is saved forever. And that which is to disappear will disappear. In our attempts to save it, only we will become troubled—nothing else can happen.
Therefore the second key I have told you—of dying, of disappearing, of preparing to disappear.
And remember—whoever is ready to die becomes the rightful heir to the whole of life. Because for one who is no longer afraid of death, all doors open. Life enters through every door.
Out of fear—lest death come, lest we disappear—we have shut all the doors and sat hidden within. Even life does not enter, for the same doors are there; the doors through which death comes are the very doors through which life comes—we have kept them closed.
We have closed the doors so that no enemy may enter—but friends too come through those same doors. Those doors are shut; the coming of friends has also ceased. We are within, busy trying to save ourselves.
Leave all doors open. One who agrees to disappear leaves all doors open. Opening, openness, is available only to one who is ready to disappear. For him there is no question of closing. There is no question of shutting. He is ready even to vanish—what fear remains now? He himself is ready to disappear—who can make him disappear now!
Therefore I said as the second key: be ready to disappear, because the deep process of meditation is the process of dying. And one who learns to die learns the art of living too.
And the third thing I said: things are such—do not fight. Do not take life with enmity, do not stand like an enemy. We all have stood like enemies. We are fighting with everything. Everything ‘should be thus.’ As it is, we do not accept. Then we stand in enmity against the whole of life. Life does not change thereby. Only we are broken and destroyed.
So the depth of meditation will be available only when life as it is is accepted by us in total—‘it is such.’ We accept even the thorn. If it pricks, we say: it is a thorn—it will prick. We accept the flower too. If it does not prick, we say: it is a flower—how will it prick? If it is a thorn, it will prick; if it is a flower, it will not prick. But we accept both—the thorn’s thorniness is accepted; the flower’s being a flower is accepted. We have no opposition to the thorn; we have no longing for the flower. As it is, we accept it. Only through such acceptance can one become quiet. Peace is, ultimately, the fruit of total acceptance. If you are restless, then accept even your restlessness—‘I am restless.’ And you will find that this acceptance takes you into peace.
A man went to a fakir and said: You are very peaceful, and I am very restless. The fakir said: Very good, very good. I am peaceful; you are restless—the matter is finished. What more is there to do? The man said: No, the matter is not finished. I too want to be peaceful. The fakir said: That is very difficult. Because how can the restless become peaceful? Agree to be restless. Say, ‘I am restless’—that is fine. Drop the opposition to being restless. The man said: But I want to be peaceful. The fakir said: Then you go, because I am telling you that if you want to be peaceful, you are arranging to be restless. Because whoever wants to become something—he will become restless. If you are restless, agree that you are restless. Then see how peace does not come. It will come of its own accord.
If a person even agrees to be restless, can peace remain far from his door for long? How can it remain far? Whoever has agreed even to restlessness—how can peace remain far from him? One who has agreed even for restlessness—peace will come running to him, because there is now no way left for it to be held back. Therefore through total acceptance of what is, a revolution happens—one that is natural. And all that is truly meaningful comes only naturally.
These three keys I have given—keep these three in mind, for when we enter meditation now, it is by employing these three that we have to go deep.
Now we will sit for meditation.
Understand two or three things for this. It may happen that in meditation, when someone lets go utterly, he may fall. Therefore, move as far apart as you can—leave no small gaps; sit at a distance. Someone may fall; if he falls upon you, you will be disturbed and he will be disturbed. Sit a little apart. Otherwise someone will have to go on being careful the whole time that he may not fall. Because if someone has truly let himself go completely into the river, how will he even keep track of whether the body has fallen forward or backward, whether it has fallen or not? If even that much care has to be kept, then he will not be able to float. And if a corpse has been laid upon the pyre, how will it be mindful of who is sitting nearby? If mindfulness remains, the corpse could not have been laid upon the pyre.
But if someone even falls upon you, or you fall upon someone—accept that also. All right, someone has fallen; there is no need to be so worried. Let him lie. Whoever has fallen should remain fallen. Upon whom he has fallen should also remain lying. What of it? Things are such that someone has fallen. There is no need to be overly disturbed by it.
So move a little apart, and then we will sit for meditation.
That is why I said: meditation means surrender. To drop totally; whatever happens, happens. We are not to think what will happen, nor are we to give direction that ‘this should happen.’ We are not to make efforts; we are to let go, let go, let go—whatever happens, happens.
Now close your eyes. Very gently close your eyes. Leave the body loose. Close your eyes; leave the body loose. As if there were no life in the body—leave it so loose. And for three minutes I will suggest; experience it with me. For three minutes I will suggest, I will give the suggestion that the body is relaxing, relaxing, relaxing—becoming relaxed, becoming relaxed. So within, you have to keep experiencing that the body relaxed, relaxed, is relaxing, is relaxing. Not merely experiencing—along with the experience, keep letting the body relax. In three minutes the body will be like earth, will scatter, will sink, will droop. Do not create any hindrance. Whatever happens, let it happen.
Now I begin—experience: the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... Let go, keep letting go and keep experiencing—the body is relaxing... keep letting go and at the same time keep experiencing—the body is relaxing. Drop completely; you are not the master. The body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... Let it go—the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing...
Experience: every fiber, every strand of the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... Drop utterly—as if the body is not even there. The body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... every particle of the body is relaxing, every fiber is relaxing... Let go—the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing...
Drop completely, and pay no attention to another. Let yourself go loose, drop utterly. Pay no attention to another—there is no other. You are alone. The body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body has become completely relaxed—as if it is not. Drop your entire hold. Do not remain holding. Then whatever happens to the body—if it falls, let it fall; if it does not, it does not. If it leans forward, if it leans back—whatever is. Only keep this much in awareness: you are not holding the body—you have let it go. Now whatever happens will happen. Do not prevent it—whatever is, let it be.
The body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... the body is relaxing... let go—as you had let yourself go into the river, let go in the same way and be carried. As you had let yourself go into the river and floated, float in the same way now. Let go... let go... let go... let the stream of life take you wherever it takes you. Let go, utterly let go. The body has relaxed... if it is falling, let it fall—do not hold back even a little. Let go—the river will carry you; you will be borne along. Let go—leave yourself in the stream of life like a dry leaf, and be carried. Float!
The body has relaxed... the body has relaxed... the body has relaxed... the body has relaxed... the body has relaxed—as if it is not. As if the body is not at all. Let go!
The breath is becoming quiet... Experience—the breath is becoming quiet... the breath is becoming quiet... the breath is becoming quiet. Do not hold it; on your part, leave it loose. The breath is becoming quiet... the breath is becoming quiet... the breath is becoming quiet... the breath is becoming utterly quiet... the breath is becoming quiet... let go—let the breath go too; the breath is becoming quiet... the breath is becoming quiet... the breath is becoming quiet... the breath is becoming quiet... the breath is becoming quiet...
As the breath goes on becoming quiet, it will seem that we are dissolving—dissolving, dissolving... because our being is linked with the breath. The breath is becoming quiet... becoming quiet... becoming quiet... the breath is becoming utterly silent... it will seem as if it is going, going, gone—the breath has become utterly quiet... the breath has become quiet... the breath has become quiet... the breath has become quiet... the breath has become quiet... the breath has become quiet... the breath has become quiet... the breath has become quiet...
Experience, as when you had been laid upon the pyre and burned and only ash remained—everything had disappeared—in the same way the breath is thinning away, is dissolving away. Slowly everything will depart; nothing will remain—not even ash will remain behind. Experience: as you had been laid upon the pyre, so the breath is being lost, being lost... you are dying, dying... slowly all will die; nothing at all will remain behind. Let go... let the breath go too...
And now experience the third thing—the birds’ calls are there, the rays of the sun are there, movement is on the roads, there is noise, there are the waves of the ocean—everything is being heard. Remain silently listening as a witness—go on listening, go on listening—‘it is such, it is such, it is such.’ Things are such. Only keep listening, keep listening—‘it is such.’ Keep knowing, keep knowing—‘it is such.’ Do nothing else. Only be knowing, be listening; be knowing, be listening. There is nothing to do; simply remain quietly one with whatever is, by knowing it.
Now for ten minutes I will be silent. The body has relaxed, the breath has become quiet, and you have remained in tathata, in witnessing. Slowly, slowly, slowly, within something will change—will become quiet, will become quiet. Then within something will become empty, within something will become silent. You will not remain; someone else will arrive into that emptiness.
Now I will be silent. You keep listening, keep seeing as a witness, keep knowing whatever is happening. No opposition—it is such. See—look within; listen without. And remain silently a witness—for ten minutes remain only a witness.