Shiv Sutra #10

Before entering the sutra — earlier I had told you that I would say something about mantra. Today is the last day of the camp; let us understand a little about mantra. Its use can bring a revolution in life.

First thing — as I said yesterday, your personality has layers upon layers, as in an onion. Each layer has to be unfolded, so that you may discover the hidden center within. The diamond is hidden, you have not lost it. You cannot lose it, because the diamond is you. It can be buried; a diamond too is buried in the earth. Layers can gather upon the diamond. The diamond can begin to appear like a mere stone. Yet nothing within is destroyed.
Perhaps you have not considered why a diamond is so valuable.
Behind the value of diamond is man’s search for the eternal. In this world the diamond is the most stable. Everything else changes; the diamond remains without change. Even in millions upon millions of years it does not wear away. In this ever-changing world, the diamond is a symbol of unchanging being. That is why it has such value. Otherwise it is a stone. Its value is in its eternity, in its stillness.
To be a diamond is your eternal nature. And all sadhana is the removal of the encrusted layers of mud upon you. The layers are of mud; so removing them will not be very difficult. And the layers are upon the diamond and are of mud — upon the eternal, of the changing — so it will not be very difficult. Mantra is the method of digging away these layers.

Let me tell you a small incident.
Mulla Nasruddin met a friend after many years. The friend asked about home, and then asked, What happened with your daughter? Nasruddin said, Believe it or not, my daughter is married. And not to some ordinary fellow, but to a great doctor!
The friend could not believe it. He said, Forgive me, but it is hard to trust. And don’t take it badly, you yourself know your daughter was never beautiful; certainly she was ugly. Her body was like a military tent. I cannot believe she is married — and to a doctor at that! A big doctor! A mysterious event indeed! How did she snare a doctor?
Nasruddin said, All right, all right! Then let it not be a big doctor, not even a doctor. But one thing I will tell you: she cured my headache. For me she is a doctor.
The one who takes away your headache is a doctor; and the one who takes away the head itself — that is mantra. No bamboo, no flute! As long as the head remains, pain remains. There is also a method by which the head itself disappears. Your whole trouble is your head — your thoughts, their frenzy, the brooding. If thoughts vanish, the head is gone! Then you remain, but the mind does not.
That which kills the mind — that is mantra. That by which the mind’s death happens — that is mantra. And when the mind is no more, the bridge between you and the body is broken. The mind alone binds you to the body. If the bridge, that connection in-between, breaks, then body is separate, you are separate. And he who has known himself as separate from the body and empty of mind, attains to Shivattva. He is a supreme Kevali.
Therefore understand mantra. The definition of mantra is — that by which the head is lost, the mind is not left; the method of cutting these layers of body and mind. One must proceed step by step. And you will have to keep patience; for mantra is a great experiment in patience. Those in whose minds there is much impatience will not benefit from mantra; harm may happen. Understand this first. Because you are already quite troubled; mantra will become one more trouble if there is impatience.

I was passing through a railway station. On a stall of toys I saw a toy. The seller was shouting that no child can break this toy, it is unbreakable. I thought, Let me buy it; it will be of use for Nasruddin’s boy, because his wife always laments that toys do not even make it home before the boy breaks them. I bought it. It was costly and strong. I gave it to Nasruddin’s wife, for the son. Husband and wife were both pleased — He won’t be able to break this one, nor will we. Truly the toy was strong.
Seven days later I went to their house. I asked, and the wife said, A big problem has arisen! I asked, Did he break that toy? The wife said, No, he couldn’t break that toy, but with that toy he has broken all the other toys, broken all the mirrors in the house; now for self-defense we must find some measures. He is using the toy as a weapon.
You are in just such a deranged state. Through mantra the derangement may break — or it may increase. You are already burdened, and a new mantra will bring one more burden. Therefore a strange event happens every day: those whom you ordinarily call religious become more troubled than worldly people. The worldly man has worldly troubles; theirs remain as they are, and religion gets added — a plus. Nothing diminishes by it; rather it increases. The mind keeps all its old trades going, and catches hold of a new trade as well; busyness increases further.
So with mantra, utmost patience is needed; otherwise don’t enter that complication. As medicine must be taken in dosage! Don’t think that if you drink the whole bottle at once, the illness will be cured immediately. The patient may die of that; the illness will not. It must be taken in measure. And the dosages of mantra are very homeopathic, very subtle. So great patience is needed; that is the first necessity. Don’t crave for fruit too soon; it will not come quickly, because this is the supreme fruit. This is not a seasonal flower that you sow and in fifteen days it blooms. Births upon births it takes. And understand this difficult thing: the more patience there is, the sooner the fruit will come; the more impatience there is, the longer it will take.

A man was going along the road. His shoe was biting him; the shoe was small. He was abusing the shoe and greatly troubled. Nasruddin asked him, Brother, where did you buy such a tight shoe? The man was already burnt up, angry. He said, Buy? I plucked it from a tree! Nasruddin said, Brother, if you had waited a bit it would have come to the size of your foot; you plucked it unripe!
Never pluck a mantra unripe, otherwise you will be badly stuck. A shoe anyone can throw away; a mantra is very difficult to throw away. Because the shoe is outside, mantra is inside. And if by mistake you get entangled in a mantra, it becomes very difficult to take it out. Many religious people go mad. The reason is: they got entangled in mantra; they hurried in plucking; the fruit had not ripened, they took it raw. When ripe the fruit becomes very sweet; raw it will be bitter, harsh, poisonous.

The first layer is the body. So the first use of mantra must begin with the body. Because that is where you are, that is where the treatment will begin. If you leave that layer and begin the treatment of mantra elsewhere, your illness will remain, it will not disappear. If not today then tomorrow, a raw fruit will come to hand. Remember, the journey can begin only from where you stand; if you begin it elsewhere, it is a dream. You are body right now. Therefore the mantra has to begin with the body.

Understand the method. First, sit silently for ten minutes. Before sitting silently — because sitting silently is not easy — dance, hop, jump for five minutes. And jump and dance with an open heart, so that the restlessness in every fiber within the body, the unease, may be released. Only then will you be able to sit quietly for ten minutes. This purgation is necessary for sitting in silence. Ten-five minutes — as seems right to you, according to your restlessness — dance, jump, sway, shake the body in every way, so that for ten minutes the body does not desire to move. Satisfy its desire to move. Ten minutes shaking and moving the body, dancing and jumping, running — then sit down. Then sit absolutely still, for ten minutes now the body should not move. Keep the eyes half-open. And it is suitable not to do this practice in the open but in a closed space. A small room, closed, and absolutely empty, where there is nothing at all.
Therefore a temple, mosque or church is very good — where there is nothing, no furniture. Or in the house, clean out a corner where there is nothing. Do not keep deities there either; they too are a disturbance. Make it utterly empty there. Emptiness alone is the sole God; everything else is the mind’s play.
The mind is so mad that if you look at people’s prayer rooms you will know their madness. Some hang a hundred-fifty deities! They cut and hang all sorts of calendars. Whichever deity they find anywhere — in scrap, in newspapers — they paste it up. This is evidence of their skull. And before all of them, bowing the head quickly, sprinkling water and such — having satisfied them all, they go away!
Not one among them is satisfied. If you satisfy one, not all are satisfied; and satisfying all does not satisfy even one. Accomplish the One, all are accomplished. And that One is not outside, that One is within.
Keep the room utterly empty. The more void, the better; because this inner search is of the void. Let that room symbolize the inner void. And let it be small, because in mantra its use is there; and empty — its use is there too. Keep the eyes half-open; because when the eyes are fully open, you are standing at your house-door — back toward the house, face toward the world. The back will not turn at once. Sudden transformation is not easy. Only half open the eyes, half closed to the world, and half open toward yourself. That is the meaning of half-open eyes — half seeing the world, half seeing yourself. Begin from just here.
And there is no need to hurry. When the eyes are half-open you will experience a sort of trance. Then keep looking at the tip of your nose. Open your eyes only so much. Do not concentrate; with a quiet attitude let the tip of the nose be visible — the nasagra is visible. Then begin the chanting of Om loudly — from the body, because right now you are in the body. So sound Om loudly, so that it strikes the walls of the room and falls back upon you. Hence empty is necessary. If it is empty there will be resonance. The more the resonance, the greater the benefit.
Therefore if you have seen the cathedrals of the Christians, they were made for mantra. Whatever you say there, the sound returns multiplied a thousand times upon you. Hindus made temples in semi-circles for this very reason, that in its dome the sound will strike and return. From a circular form, no sound can go outside; it returns within. They were for mantra.
So sit and sound the Omkar loudly — Om, Om — as loudly as you can, because the body must be used. Let your whole body be immersed in Om. Let it feel as if you have put your whole life-energy into Om, holding nothing back — as if your very life and death depend upon this. Less than this and the mantra is not completed. Do not go on muttering like a corpse, half-heartedly; it will not help. With totality! As if only if you say Om totally will you be saved; otherwise you will die. Stake yourself upon it! Let there be a lion’s roar. Eyes half-open, breath half-closed, Om chanted loudly. And remember: as someone throws a stone into a still lake, waves arise and move in all directions — so when you say Om, you have thrown a stone into the room’s silent emptiness; rays spread in all directions, the sound goes, strikes, and returns.
And say Om so quickly that there is overlapping. Let one utterance climb over the previous: Om—Om—Om. Do not leave space between the two Oms. Be drenched in sweat. Pour in all your strength. In a few days you will find that the whole chamber is filled with Om. You will feel the whole chamber supporting you; the sound returning. If you find a round chamber it will be easier still. If you find a domed chamber, easier still. Let there be nothing in it, so that the sound rains upon you completely. Your body will pass through a bath. And you will find a coolness such as no water-bath can ever give.
Now scientists are researching this much. They say that if certain sound-music is played to trees, they flower earlier, fruit earlier, and grow faster. In both Russia and America, music is being used in fields so that crops may come sooner and double. The results have been successful.
A test was done in Canada with Ravi Shankar’s sitar. Ravi Shankar played the sitar, and seeds were sown — some on one side, some nearer, some farther; many types of seeds were sown. And it was a great surprise that when the sprouts came forth, all the sprouts leaned toward Ravi Shankar’s sitar. Trees grew, but as a deaf man brings his ear close to listen, all the plants placed their ears upon the sitar. And there was double growth. A plant that would grow in three months grew in one and a half. And the plants were supremely delighted. A plant is only body. Everything within it is still asleep, dormant. Yet even body is stirred and vibrates with sound.
When the Omkar begins to rain upon you from all sides, returns toward you, your sound becomes circular; you will find every hair of the body is rejoicing; illnesses are shaking off from every pore; peace and health deepen. You will be astonished to find many of the body’s troubles have disappeared by themselves; because this is a very deep bath and its grasp and reach go very far. The body is a complex of sound. And there is no sound more wondrous than Omkar.
This ten minutes of loud Om chanting — through the body. Then close the eyes. Close the lips. Let the tongue be set to the palate, close the mouth in such a way that it is totally sealed, leaving no gap; because now the tongue is not to be used, nor the lips.
The second step: for ten minutes, now chant Om within the mind. Until now the chamber was all around, now the body is all around. Until now you were inside a building, now the body is the building. In these second ten minutes, resound only within your mind. Do not use lips, tongue, or throat. Only in the mind: Om—Om... But keep the same speed; keep the same intensity. As you had filled the room with Omkar, so now fill the body from within with Omkar — so that from feet to head there begins a trembling with Om. And say Om as rapidly as you can. And do not leave even the slightest gap between two Oms. Because the mind has one rule: it cannot think two thoughts at once. Two thoughts at the same time are impossible.
So if you have resounded Om so intensely that there is no junction left between two Oms, no thought can enter. If even a slight interval remains, a thought will come — it will make room in that interval. So leave no interval; a gapless utterance. Do not worry if one Om rides upon the next. As when a goods train collides, one carriage climbs upon another — let the Oms climb upon one another; leave no space between.
And remember, the body is not to be used in this step. That is why the eyes are now closed. The body is still. The resounding is only in the mind. Striking only the body, the resonance will fall back upon the mind, just as striking the room it fell back upon the body. That purified the body; this will purify the mind. And as the inner resonance deepens, you will find the mind dissolving. A profound peace, such as you have never known, will begin to be tasted.
Resound within for ten minutes, and after ten minutes let the chin drop so that your beard touches the chest. For two or four days you may feel discomfort in the neck; don’t worry, it will pass. In the third stage, the beard should touch — as if the neck is cut and has no life. And now do not resound Om even in the mind. Now try to listen; as if Omkar is already happening, you are only the listener, not the doer. Because only when the doer drops will you go beyond the mind. Now become a witness. Drop the head and try this: within, Omkar is going on; I only listen to it.
Ghalib has a famous saying:
“In the mirror of the heart is the Beloved’s image.
When I bent the neck a little, I saw it.”
This bending of the neck is necessary. As soon as the neck bends, the mirror of the heart comes before you. And the image of the Supreme Beloved is there, the reflection is there. But you do not know how to bend the neck. You go about with a stiff neck. Where bending is called for, you tense even more. If you are missing God, it is just from one stiffness — you are not ready to bend the neck; your preparation for surrender is not there. This letting the neck hang as if cut is only a symbol, so that you may bow. And as soon as the neck bends, seeing within becomes easy. As soon as the neck bends, thoughts become difficult.
Now try to listen. Until now you were uttering the mantra; now try to become the witness of the mantra. And you will be astonished to discover a subtle utterance within. It is like Om; not exactly Om, because it is difficult to bring it into language; but like Om. If you listen silently, now it will be heard. You have withdrawn from the body. The first step of mantra cut you from the body. The second step cut you from the mind. Now the third step of mantra is of witnessing.
Therefore there is no mantra more wonderful than Omkar. None more wondrous than Om. Ram, Krishna, Mahavira, Buddha are dear — but they cannot take you beyond the mind; because they have form, an image. Om is formless. And with Buddha, Krishna, Jesus there is attachment; feeling, love, clinging, infatuation. That will not let you go beyond the mind. Om is absolutely meaningless. Om is very unique. It has no meaning. It has no form. It has no idol. It has no figure. It is not even a part of the alphabet. And it is the nearest to that sound which is going on within continuously, which is the very nature of your life. Just as a stream makes its gurgling sound — it does not have to do it, by flowing the sound is. Just as when wind passes through trees there is a soughing; it does not have to do it, it happens through its passing and the trees’ rubbing. In the same way your very being is of such a kind that Om resounds in it. It is the sound of your being.
Hence Om is nobody’s property — neither of Hindus, nor Jains, nor Buddhists, nor Muslims, nor Christians. Om alone is a non-sectarian mantra; all other mantras are sectarian. You will be surprised — Jains use Om, Buddhists use Om, Christians too use it, Muslims too. There is a slight difference: in place of Om they use “Ameen.” That is the transformation of Om; it is the corrupted form of Om. By the time the news from this land reached them, Om became Ameen. Because its relation is not with thinking. Those who drowned in no-thought heard it.
So two steps you will do the mantra; in the third step you will listen to the mantra — you will become a shravak, a witness. Till two you will remain a doer, because body and mind are of the doer’s domain; and the third step is of witnessing. So in the third, just listen. Body cut, mind cut — then you remain. The onion’s peels are removed; only pure existence remains. That is Shivattva.
And once the taste of it comes, then you will go again and again. Then the taste itself begins to pull. The taste becomes a magnet. And wherever taste comes to us, we go there spontaneously. Difficulty exists only where there is no taste. You try to meditate but it does not happen because the taste has not come. Once the first taste comes, after that there will be no obstacle. The mind will reach there by itself. If a little time is free and you close your eyes — “In the mirror of the heart is the Beloved’s image; when a little the neck is bent, I see.” Even in the market, in the shop, if a moment is found — when the neck is bent a little, it is seen.
Let that taste come once; that first step is the hardest. The first step is equal to half the journey. Once the taste comes, then the mind goes like a bee goes only where there is nectar. The mind’s natural tendency is to go only where there is rasa. The rasa has not yet come, hence you keep hammering, forcing the mind — Meditate, remember God. And it says, Let us go to the bazaar, why waste time? In this much time we could have earned something! Do this later, what is the hurry? When there is time we’ll do it; now is time for shop, for office.
The mind takes you where it has found its rasa. It is not really at fault. Once the inner rasa comes, you will find coming out becomes difficult. Now going within is difficult; then coming out becomes difficult.
Sariputta was Buddha’s disciple; he attained to the state of the supreme mantra. He heard the great inner mantra. The day he heard it, Buddha said, Now go and teach people. He said, Now I have no desire to go anywhere. Buddha said, That is why I send you. Because first you were caught on the outside — that too is bondage; now you might be caught within — that too is bondage. As it was difficult to come in from outside, now it is difficult to go out from inside.
The truly accomplished one is he whose difficulty is gone. He comes and goes, inside and out, like a gust of wind. No obstacle in coming out, no obstacle in going within. Outside is no longer outside; inside is no longer inside — the two have become one. As you easily step outside your house, and easily go back in — so let this life be your house, there should be no difficulty in coming and going within it.
There are some who are attached to the world; then there are some who become attached to the soul. Both are attached, both are in bondage; the supreme moksha has not occurred. The wise is he who now has no bondage — neither outside nor inside; whose flow is spontaneous.

This process of mantra — in the third step remain as long as you can, maintain it. First step: sit silently. Before the silence, a prelude: ten minutes of jumping and prancing, throwing out all the body’s restlessness. Because the body is filled with restlessness. When I say this I am telling you a scientific fact — the body is filled with restlessness.
When you want to slap someone, your body-energy gathers in the hand. Therefore even a weak person, when he slaps, slaps very hard. You could not have expected such force from him. This is no ordinary hand now; energy has come into it. But you do not slap; there can be a thousand reasons. Life is complex! The one you were going to slap, you have some self-interest with him, it must be fulfilled. You hold back the slap. There is no way for the energy to return. This is a very modern scientific discovery: the body has channels for energy to go out; but there are no channels to bring the energy back in. So the energy that came into the hand will remain stuck there if you did not slap. It makes no difference whom you slap; slap the air and the energy will be discharged. But there are no nerves in the body to bring the energy back in. It will remain stuck there.
And in this way, in twenty-four hours you accumulate much energy stuck in different parts of the body. Then you sit for meditation. All that stuck energy will obstruct. So you say, The leg is aching; an ant is crawling somewhere; a weird sensation in the back; an itch in the neck. This is not imaginary. You are not imagining. It is happening. Because you have never sat empty; you were busy in something, energy was engaged. Now you sit empty, so where the energy is stuck, restlessness and unease will arise there.
Look at a small child. Tell him, Sit quietly! He will close his eyes and sit — but see how much trouble he takes in just sitting empty! He will press the hand, press the foot, close the eyes, hold the mouth; because there is a flow of energy in all directions. The legs want to run. The hands want to spread. The eyes want to see. The ears want to hear. That is their old habit — the old style of energy flow.
Therefore I always insist: prior to every meditation, catharsis is necessary. Catharsis will support you. Run for ten minutes, jump, hop; throw out all the energy that has piled up. Then sit. As after a storm there is calm, so after catharsis the body becomes light, its restlessness disappears. But that is a prelude, not a step. That is the staircase outside the house. The real journey begins within the house: ten minutes of Om’s sound through the body; ten minutes of Om’s sound through the mind; ten minutes of Om’s sound you need not make — it is already occurring in existence — you only have to listen.
Hence I say — Ram, Krishna, Buddha will not be as right; they will take you to the second step, not to the third. Because the sound that is happening in the third step is of Om. Still, sometimes someone reaches the third through Ram too. That is like when you travel in a train and the train goes “chak-chak, chak-chak.” In it you may think anything you want. If you want to think “Allah, Allah,” slowly you will begin to feel it is not “chak-chak,” it is “Allah, Allah.” Or “Ram, Ram,” then it will be Ram-Ram. But there is only “chak-chak, chak-chak.”
Om is a pure sound. If you hold to Ram, you can hear Ram there too — but that is superimposition. And superimposition means — the mind is still a little alive.
We want to know what is. We want to see what is. We do not want to overlay the mind upon it, to color it. Therefore the mantra, the great mantra, is Omkar. All others are small; they can take you to the second, they will hinder you at the third. There is no need.
Practice Om. And in the manner I have said. For three months do not worry about results. Do not think of the result at all. Just keep doing it. Do not even think whether anything is happening or not, whether anything has happened yet or not. For three months do not think. Fix a date that after three months, on such and such date, we will look back and see whether anything happened or not; until then we will not think of fruit. If you can keep that much courage... and this courage is like the little child who sometimes plants a mango pit and half an hour later goes to dig it up to see whether a sprout has come yet. Then he buries it again in sadness that nothing has happened. Then after half an hour he goes again and digs it up. That sprout will never come. Because for the sprout a limit of time is necessary, that the pit remain buried in darkness, embedded in the earth.
Your meditation brings no fruit because you keep digging up the pit — Did anything happen yet? It cannot reach the heart; before it reaches you dig it out to look.
Jesus has said, Let not your left hand know what your right hand does.
Bury the mantra so within. Do not keep digging it up; it is a seed. Hence mantra is called a bija — a seed. Seed means: do not dig it up again and again. It has its own time. It will sprout in its season, not in your haste. Your haste will bring the opposite result — perhaps it may never sprout.
Take this great mantra with you from this Samadhi camp and practice it. If for three months you do it with patience, you will be filled with a very sweet juice — which Kabir called the dumb man’s jaggery. And once that jaggery comes to your tongue, there will be no difficulty. Then wherever you are, it is good; whatever you are doing, it is good. Then the world becomes dreamlike. Life remains nothing more than a play. You become a witness. Your witnessing is your Shivattva.

Now let us take the sutras.
“Pleasure and pain are external modifications — so he knows continuously.”
He who has attained to Shivattva knows continuously that pleasure and pain are external modifications.
Pleasure happens outside, pain happens outside; neither reaches within you. Yet you get disturbed by both. You catch hold of pleasure, you identify and think, I am happy. There — you have created misery! There is no delay now. From here sorrow begins. The moment you said, I am happy, you sowed the seeds of sorrow. It will not take long; soon sorrow will come. Because sorrow means — becoming one with modifications. Then when sorrow comes you will become one with sorrow.
Your trouble is that you become one with whatever comes before you; with whatever appears you do not remain the seer, you become the enjoyer. If sorrow comes, you weep, beat your chest; if pleasure comes, you begin to dance and jump.
Pleasure comes from outside, sorrow comes from outside; and neither has any way to enter within you. But you with your own hands join yourself to pleasure and sorrow and experience them. As soon as a person goes beyond the mind, he sees that all this is happening outside the temple; nothing comes within.
“Pleasure and pain are external modifications — so he knows continuously.”
The word “continuously” is important. Sometimes even you know this. And often when you have to advise another, then you know it for sure. If only you were as wise for yourself as you are for others! If only as much understanding as you put into advice, you put into the journey of your own life!
Why is it that you are so wise for the other? Someone is in sorrow and you say, Why are you worried! These things go on; it is the world! Keep yourself a little distant. And if the same sorrow comes to you, then the amusing thing is that the same man you advised might advise you, Brother, pleasure and pain are external modifications. What is the matter? Why? Because when sorrow comes to another, you are a witness. Therefore knowledge arises. Sorrow is coming to another; it is not coming to you. You are only a watcher. If you can be just that watcher for your own sorrow, that same wisdom will remain for yourself. You have only distributed your wisdom.
Mulla Nasruddin went to a psychiatrist and said, My wife’s condition has worsened now, you must do something. The psychiatrist studied the wife for a few weeks and said, Her brain is totally finished. Nasruddin said, That I knew already. She used to distribute it to me every day. In the end, everything finishes. Every day she gave me a little of her intelligence, it finished.
You distribute your intelligence to others; but cannot use the same intelligence upon yourself.
Now when pleasure comes into your life, look at it as if it has come into someone else’s life. Try to stand a little apart and watch. A little distance is needed. A little distance becomes a great distance. Do not stand glued to yourself. Be your own neighbor. Do not stand so close.
I asked Nasruddin: The hotel on the roadside, its owner says he is your very close relative. Nasruddin said, He speaks wrongly. There is a relation, but very distant. There is a big distance. I asked, What relation? Nasruddin said, We are the twelve sons of the same father. He is the first, I am the twelfth. There is a big distance.
You are your own neighbor; the distance is enough. Do not stand too close. Without distance, perspective is lost. To see anything, a little distance is necessary. If you put your eyes right on a flower, what will you see! If you press your head against a mirror, nothing will be visible. A little distance is needed.
A little distance from yourself — this is the whole sadhana. As the distance increases, you will be amazed to see that you were unnecessarily troubled. Events that never happened to you were happening outside you; only because you stood close to yourself, reflections fell upon you; shadows fell upon you; sounds reached you; and you mistook the echoes for your own and were distressed.
A house was on fire and the house-owner naturally was beating his chest and weeping. But a man said, You are unnecessarily worried; because I know your son sold this house yesterday. He said, What!
This boy had gone out of the village. The weeping stopped. The house is still on fire. In fact the fire has grown. Flames are rising, everything is burning. But now the man has become distant from the house. Now he is not the owner.
Right then the son came running, saying, What happened? Is this house burning? The deal was done, but the money has not yet been received. Now that it has burned, who will pay?
Again the father began beating his chest. The house is the same, nothing is changing in it. The house does not know that here pleasure happened, there sorrow. How will there be any difference! If that man comes and says, No matter, I am a man of my word; burned or not, bought is bought; I will pay. Then the matter changes again.
Everything happens outside. You stand so close to yourself, that is the difficulty. Make a little distance. When pleasure comes, stand a little apart and see. When sorrow comes, stand apart and see. And begin with pleasure, mind that. Do not begin with sorrow.
Most of us try to be distant when there is sorrow. You will not succeed then. That is a difficult path. When there is pleasure, try to be distant. Because everyone wants to be distant from sorrow — that is the mind’s ordinary tendency. No one wants to be distant from pleasure. Therefore do not try to be distant from sorrow; you have always tried that. It has yielded no fruit. You will have to walk in reverse. As you have gone you have strayed; now you must return. Mahavira calls it pratikraman; Patanjali called it pratyahara — returning back to the source. Come a few steps back. When pleasure comes, then try to stand a little apart. Do not let the heart pound hard. Do not dance. Know only this: It has come; it too will pass. Nothing stays. It is a wave of the wind; it has come and gone. Before you even know, it has gone. Just stand apart and watch with witnessing.
What will happen? Why are we afraid? Why don’t we see pleasure with witnessing? The reason is: seen with witnessing, pleasure will not remain pleasure. It was pleasure only as long as you were very close. The more forgetful you were, the more pleasure. The more you remember, the less it remains. Therefore no one wants to witness pleasure. But the journey begins from there.
When pleasure comes, look with witnessing. In watching you will find: the pleasure is gone, you remain. And if you succeed with pleasure, you will succeed with pain. The key is in your hand. Then when sorrow comes, stand apart and watch. And you can stand apart; because the body and you are far apart. Between any two things there can be no distance greater than that. What distance can be greater than that between consciousness and matter! The moon and stars are not as far from each other as you are from your body. One is inert, one is conscious. One is made of earth — mrinmaya; one is made of consciousness — chinmaya. A great distance. Opposite poles cannot be found more opposite than these.
Begin with pleasure, take it to pain. And remember only one thing: you are outside.
“Pleasure and pain are external modifications” — you will have to practice this; but it will be lost again and again. It cannot be continuous. It will only be continuous when you are steadied in the Atman; when the mantra succeeds and the mind is cut. Until then practice for as long as you can. It will make the path clear. Perhaps you will not sow the noble seed by this, but the land will be prepared. At the time of sowing, at least you will find prepared ground. This will be lost again and again; it cannot remain continuous. As soon as you lose a little awareness, pleasure will catch hold, sorrow will catch hold.
“Pleasure and pain are external modifications” — the yogi who has attained to Shivattva knows this continuously. Continuous means — without interruption even for a single moment. Only that which is your nature can be continuous. What is not your nature cannot be continuous. For how long can you be angry?
Bodhidharma went to China. The emperor of China said to him, I have great anger in my mind; what should I do? Bodhidharma asked, If you have to be angry, for how long can you be angry? He said, For how long? Is that even a question? An hour, half an hour at most. Bodhidharma said, That which can be done for an hour or half is not your nature. Can you do it for twenty-four hours? Can you do it continuously? The emperor said, We are already troubled doing it for an hour or two! We have not come to ask how to do it continuously. Bodhidharma said, I say this because only what you can do continuously is nature. Why are you troubled by it?
What is it that you can do continuously? Think a little. You cannot remain happy continuously. This will be very difficult for you to understand; but I say to you, you cannot remain happy continuously. Think a little — how long can you remain happy? Whatever happens, in a little while happiness begins to fade and you begin to be unhappy. Even if nothing happens you will get bored of happiness itself. A palace, fine food, a wife, everything; no hardship, no obstruction — what will you do? How long will you remain happy? In an hour or two you will be bored. You will want to change the taste.
Often it happens: a man with the most beautiful wife falls in love with an ordinary maid. Others are astonished, because they are witnesses — What is happening? Such a beautiful woman, hard to find, and leaving her for a plain maid! What has happened to this man?
The taste is changing. He is bored. Beauty too becomes boring. How long will you gaze at a beautiful woman! In a little while you will begin to beat your head. Even the best song — how many times will you listen! The head will begin to spin. You will say, Now stop. If the song still goes on, it will be hellish.
The mind cannot bear anything continuously — not even happiness. Therefore whenever happiness happens the mind immediately creates unhappiness. The taste changes through it. Then you are again ready to bear happiness. You cannot sit still even for a little while; the mind will create restlessness soon, because even peace becomes boring.
Bertrand Russell has written: I would not like to go to moksha, because I have heard that on the Siddhashila they have been sitting since eternity. There is nothing to do there; because to do is samsara. What would Mahavira be doing? Sitting on the Siddhashila. How many days has he been sitting! And how long must he sit, there is no end to it. And there is no work either. Newspapers do not get printed there so that you may sit and read. No news happens there; because news happens only in the wrong place. In hell much happens — more than here. There at least ten or twelve editions of newspapers must be printed each day; because things keep happening, fighting and cutting goes on. In heaven nothing is happening; everyone sits on his own Siddhashila.
Bertrand Russell wrote: This makes the mind so nervous that hell is better.
The mind speaks rightly. But Bertrand Russell does not know that so long as the mind is, no one goes to moksha. The mind is left here — the mind that demands change. To moksha goes only that one whose mind is no more. To moksha goes only that which is continuous.
What can you endure continuously within? Neither happiness, for it is an excited state; nor sorrow, for it too is excited. Only calm can be continuous; because it is not an excited state. It is exactly in the middle, and beyond both.
I was a guest at Mulla Nasruddin’s house. His son was eating. First he ate with his left hand, then after a while he began eating with his right. I was a little startled. Then I saw he began again with the left. Nasruddin said, A thousand times I have told you, boy — eat with the right! Do not eat with the left! The boy said, What difference does it make? The mouth is exactly between the two — whether you eat from here or there, the journey is the same. The mouth is exactly in the middle.
Seek a point exactly in the middle between pleasure and pain; that alone can be continuous. In the exact middle is balance, samyakta. There is neither this excess nor that. As with the scales, the pointer in the middle — you can be that. If weight falls on this side, soon you will tire; you will put weight on the other side. As people carry a bier to the cremation ground on their shoulders, they change shoulders on the way. One shoulder begins to ache, they put it on the other. The weight does not lessen, but changing shoulders gives relief. Then after a while this shoulder aches, they change again.
Pleasure and pain are your shoulders and the sense of doership is the bier you keep changing. Sometimes you join with pleasure, sometimes with pain. Become a witness! Be steady in the middle. Then you can remain continuous. Buddhahood can remain continuous because it is a state of quiet. Bliss is there, but not like the scorching rays of the sun; like the cool rays of the moon. Bliss is there, but not like burning fire; like a quiet glow. There is no tension in it. There is no restlessness in it.
Have you noticed that happy people often die of heart failure? If very great happiness comes — if the lottery suddenly falls your way — if it does not, trouble; if it does, trouble — if it suddenly falls, you are gone.
I have heard: a man won a lottery of a million rupees. The wife got the news. She was frightened; because she knew her husband — if he got ten annas he would have heart failure. A million rupees! The husband was out. She ran to the neighbor. She caught a temple priest, because she thought him wise. She said, Brother, help me a little. Before my husband comes home, do something. He has got a lottery of a million rupees! He said, Don’t be afraid. We will explain in measured doses. Let the husband come; I will come.
The priest went and sat. The husband came. The priest thought, A million is too much; begin with one hundred thousand. Slowly, slowly striking will be good. He said, Listen, suppose you got one hundred thousand rupees in a lottery? The man said, Truly! If I got a hundred thousand, fifty thousand would be donated to your temple. The priest had heart failure on the spot. He had never imagined — fifty thousand!
Happiness kills too. Sorrow kills; happiness kills too; because both excite. Where there is excitation, things break. Only that can remain continuous which is your unexcited nature. That which need not be practiced can remain continuous. That which is always within you without practice can remain continuous. That which you cannot drop can remain continuous.
Hence the whole search of religion is the search for swabhava — your nature. The search for swabhava is religion; because it is eternal. You will never be bored of it; because it is you. There is no way to be separate from it. There is no way to stand beyond it and look. Whatever you can stand apart from and see, that you will be bored of; it is not your nature.
When mantra kills the mind, when through mantra the mind commits suicide, then the flow of that continuous stream begins within you. And the moment this continuous stream arises, freed from the external modifications of pleasure and pain, he becomes a Kevali. Then he is alone. And he is intoxicated in his own solitude. He wants nothing anymore. Now all wanting has died; because pleasure is outside and pain is outside. Now he neither desires pleasure, nor desires to escape pain. What is outside has no relation left with him. Now he is steady within. And there is continuous bliss within, therefore there is no question of wanting. Now he delights continuously in his own consciousness. His satchidananda now goes on continuously. It pervades his every breath, every particle of his being.
“And freed from them, he becomes a Kevali.”
“In that state of Kaivalya, for the yogi who has ascended there, due to the absence of craving, birth and death come to complete cessation.”
Then there is no birth, and no death. Birth and death exist in the journey of seeking pleasure. We desire pleasure. Pleasure can be had only through a body; so the body has to be taken. As is the pleasure we desire, so do we take a body. Then the desire for pleasure remains even in the moment of death. One dies, but the desire for pleasure remains. That very desire becomes the seed of a new birth.
When a tree begins to die, what does it do? Before dying, a tree gathers all its life-energy and stores it in the seed. The seed is the tree’s desire: that I will still remain. And the seed is a wondrous event; because the tree is so big, yet it squeezes its essence and puts it into the seed. And it sends that seed on a journey. This tree will die, this body will fall, but a new body it has arranged. And so you see, a tree is born from a single seed. But at death, before dying, a tree leaves millions of seeds. Because who knows if one seed may fail to reach the right soil! It may fall on rock! It may not find water! Animals may eat it! Someone may trample it! A tree cannot take so much risk with a single seed. One alone carries risk: it may or may not survive. Therefore it produces millions of seeds. And by a thousand devices it sends the seed where it may find right soil.
Look! Have you seen the flower of the semal? The semal tree has a specialty — beneath it no plant can grow. Therefore the semal attaches cotton to its seeds so that no seed falls below. Because if it falls below it will die. Do not think that the cotton is for your mattresses and pillows. The semal attaches cotton to give wings to its seed, so that it may be carried far away by gusts of wind. One thing it ensures — that it may not fall here; anywhere else, but not here; because beneath the semal no semal can grow. The semal sucks all the water.
To be born under a big tree is difficult. Therefore all trees discover their devices. Do not consider them simple. They are all quite skillful and cunning. Do not consider them straight and simple! None in the world can be straight and simple — straight and simple, and it is moksha! Here one has to be crooked. Crookedness is the condition for being here. That is the qualification here. If you study trees you will be astonished by the devices they find! They take the help of butterflies, attract butterflies. The butterflies may think that the sweet nectar flowing in the tree is for them — they are deluded. They are only being bribed. The tree is attaching its seed to their legs and wings and sending it away. A thousand devices a tree will make to survive. And if a tree makes so many, how many will you make! Your cunning has no end.
A man, a male, if he were to use all his sperm, could populate the entire earth single-handedly. An ordinary man in his life — ordinary, neither celibate nor debauched — at least four thousand times has intercourse. In one intercourse some one billion living spermatozoa, one billion seeds, are emitted. If all his seeds were to succeed — which could be possible one day; until now it could not be, because the woman has a limit, capacity — it takes nine months for one seed to ripen. A single woman at most can bear twelve, fifteen, at most twenty-four children. Hence there is a limit. Therefore emperors kept thousands of queens, so that the limit be broken.
But now by scientific means it has become possible that we could give the spermatozoa of a single man to all the women in the world, inject them. This is very possible. Because when scientists give suggestions, however dangerous they may be, in a little while they are accepted. They say, not all people should have the right to bear children. Someone like Einstein, who has such genius — use his seed. Right! If in gardening you exercise such skill that you select seeds, then why not select seeds in the gardening of man! The gardener looks for the very best seed; he does not sow every trash.
So if not today, tomorrow, the right to bear children will not remain with everyone. A few, whom scientists will determine — in health, intelligence, talent, longevity — their seeds will be used. And their packets will be available. You can bring them home. Then one man could fill the earth; he produces so many seeds. This too is the desire for life.
You will be amazed — perhaps you have not read this anywhere, because it is not written anywhere yet — that as soon as a person goes beyond pleasure and pain, becomes a Kevali, within him the production of semen stops. Only he attains the true brahmacharya in whom the production of semen has ceased.
But that can happen only when the desire for birth has fallen utterly. As long as there is the desire to survive — in any form; let this body go, no matter; let me remain in another body, but let me remain — as long as there is jeeveshna, the body will keep producing semen.
On the one side the body will live, and on the other your soul, full of lust, will keep seeking a new womb. You will wander only so long as you take yourself to be one with pleasure and pain. Until then you will make every effort that there be no sorrow and there be pleasure. And I go on journeys for more and more pleasure, and seek more and more pleasure. Your dreams will carry you into new births.
“In that state of Kaivalya, for the yogi who has ascended there, due to the absence of craving, birth and death come to complete cessation.”
He is not born. And he who is not born has no cause to die. If you are born, you will die. Death is the other side of the coin of birth. On this side you are born; on the other, you will die. But he who wants to be free of death must be free of birth.
Everyone wants to be free of death, but none wants to be free of birth. That is our difficulty. Everyone wants to be free of sorrow; no one wants to be free of pleasure. The day you want to be free of pleasure, that day a revolution occurs in your life — that day you become religious.
Mulla Nasruddin went on a sea journey for the first time. The very first time he boarded a ship. He became very ill — vomiting, retching, dizziness. One morning he was so terrified — the storm was fierce, the ship was rolling, and he was rolling — he said to his wife, Listen, I have written all my property in your name and my will is deposited in the bank. All accounts are there. Bury me on the other shore — whether I die or not! Because alive or dead, this journey I cannot make again. Alive or dead, I cannot make this journey again. You bury me there only. And everything else is in the bank; take care of it.
The day life appears so absurd to you, this entire journey so futile that alive or dead you do not wish to come upon it again — the day this life appears worse than death — and it is — on that day a revolution will occur in your life. Even when you become interested in religion, it is for the pursuit of pleasure. Therefore religion never happens to you.
Your interest in religion will be genuine only when you are eager for peace — not for pleasure — eager for peace. Pleasure is futile, pain is futile; now you want release from both.
“In that state of Kaivalya, for the yogi who has ascended there, due to the absence of craving...”
Now he has no desire. He no longer wants to go on any journey. Journey itself has become futile.
“...birth and death come to complete cessation.”
“Such a bhutakanchuki, a liberated man, becomes the very form of Param Shiva.”
He is Brahman, he is Paramatman. Such a bhutakanchuki — this word is very lovely. Bhutakanchuki means: the five elements of which the body is made have become like a garment — the bhutas are a kanchuk, a sheath. For whom the body and the mind — for both are made of the five elements; the gross five elements are body, and the subtle five tanmatras are mind; both are but gross and subtle forms of the same — when both become like garments, and he has recognized himself who is hidden within these garments; who has completely peeled the onion; who has known the inner Shivattva, the shunyata — such a bhutakanchuki, a liberated man, becomes himself the Paramatman.
In this country we do not believe in one God sitting in the sky, running all. No; in this country we trust that the end of all life-journeys is in Paramatman. Here all, blossoming, become divine. Paramatman is not a special person; it is everyone’s future. Understand this a little more deeply.
In the world there are other religions that arose outside India — Christianity, Judaism, Islam, the three great religions born outside India. Three great religions were born in India — Hindu, Buddhist, Jain. Between the two there is a fundamental difference. It is this: the Jews, Christians, and Muslims look at God as behind — as the first cause — He created the world. We look at God ahead — as the final fruit. This makes a great difference. God is the future, not the past. God is not the seed, He is the flower. Therefore we seat the Buddhas upon the flower — the lotus of a thousand petals fully opened.
If God is behind, created the world, then He is one. Then the world will be a sort of dictatorship. And in such a world moksha cannot happen. Because what freedom is there when you have been made? Does the made have any freedom? The day the maker wants to destroy, He will destroy. If He can create, what difficulty to destroy? Then you are toys, puppets. Then your soul and freedom have no meaning.
Therefore we do not see God as creator; we see God as the final outcome. He is your ultimate growth. God is not the first stage of evolution, but the final summit. He is the Gaurishankar. He is the Kailash. He is that last peak where all consciousnesses will finally arrive; toward which everyone’s journey is moving. Sooner or later everyone will reach there. You are the God-becoming every day.
Thus God is not one event that has already happened; God is a flow that is happening every moment. God is happening every instant. He is growing within you. You are the womb of God.
Therefore this Shiva-sutra concludes in this final utterance. Here all scriptures conclude. They begin with you, they conclude in God. You as you are now — the first stage; you as you will ultimately become — the last stage. As a seed you are — this your wandering; when as a tree you blossom in your totality — that is your consummation, your fulfillment, your aptakama — all achieved.
When the flower blooms, the tree’s life is complete. In its blossoming the tree has found its fragrance fully. That for which the tree was born has happened. With the blooming of the flower the tree is filled with a dance. Every hair stands on end. It did not go in vain; it became meaningful, fruitful; fragrance and beauty have blossomed in it!
And when a tree becomes so delighted at a flower’s blooming — a flower that will last but a moment and will fall, that which blooms now and by evening will wither — then how great is the joy when there is a Vardhaman Mahavira — when the flower blooms! When there is a Gautama Siddhartha Buddha — when the flower blooms! And such a flower that will never wither! That flower we call Shivattva. That is Paramatman.
Use the mantra, so that what is futile in you is cut away; and what is meaningful in you may be polished forth. Use the mantra, so that as you are, this breaks and falls to the ground; and what you can be, sprouts forth.
You are going about hiding the Paramatman within you; walk carefully, walk with caution. As a pregnant woman walks carefully, so does the seeker. Because it is not only the question of your life — existence itself has staked itself within you. The whole of existence is eager to bloom through you. The responsibility is very great! With great care, with mindfulness, place each step — because from you the birth of God has to happen.
Enough for today.