Vysat Jeevan Main Ishwar Ki Khoj #3
Available in:
Read in Original Hindi (मूल हिन्दी)
Questions in this Discourse
But sometimes the outer...
It is never too much. She says: Sometimes the pressure from the outside becomes greater than our capacity.
It is never too much. She says: Sometimes the pressure from the outside becomes greater than our capacity.
It never happens. The day it becomes more than your capacity, you will be finished that very moment—you cannot survive. It is always within capacity. In fact, we have no idea of our capacity. People say, “Unbearable suffering!” If any suffering were truly unbearable, you would be gone—how would you survive? All suffering is bearable; otherwise you would be erased—how would you remain? There is no such thing as unbearable suffering. People say, “It is utterly unbearable; now we can no longer endure it.” Yet even while saying so, they go on enduring it. Saying it is also a device to endure; it is their arrangement for endurance. By repeating it, they are persuading their own mind to bear it.
Human capacity is astonishing, immense. If any outer pressure were truly unbearable, you would simply snap; you would not even remain to ask the question. So that is outside the question—such a person would not come to ask; his story is already over. The outer pressure is never so much that you break; you survive all pressures.
So the pressure is not as great as you see it to be; you are always greater than it. And the magnitude we attribute to it is our imagination—our habit of choosing misery because of which we see it as pressure.
And life always has two sides. What do you call pressure?
You walk on the ground. The earth is pulling you all the time. The air is pressing you all the time. There is a constant pressure of air upon you; the earth is pulling from below. Now you could sit down and say, “How can I walk? How will I bear such pressure? I will die!” The earth pulls you continuously and the air presses you continuously. Such a mass of air—layers two hundred miles deep—presses all the time; and gravity is tugging all the time.
And the fun is: if you think that because of this you are obstructed from walking, you are mistaken. It is because of this that walking is possible. If the earth did not pull and the air did not press, you would be lost in the infinite; there would be no trace of you. Because the earth pulls, we are on the ground. Because the air presses, we can walk upon it. Even a tiny ant bears the same pressure, and it too walks. If all pressure were removed, that ant, we, and the whole world would be lost in the infinite—we would depart this very moment.
The pressure around us is part of life; we have to live with it. If it were removed entirely, you would go mad—you wouldn’t last a minute. So there is no need to be afraid of it; there is a need to use that pressure. Use that pressure too.
We are already using it. There will be pressure from outside twenty-four hours a day; use those pressures. Take joy even from those pressures.
See the fun of it: the pressures are the same; our vision changes. If I grab an enemy and squeeze him to my chest, the pressure is the same. If a beloved comes and I embrace him, the pressure is the same. The enemy pulls out a knife—“You are killing me!” The friend thanks you for the hug. The pressure is exactly the same. Their perspectives differ—how is the pressure to change? If we had an instrument to measure pressure, it could not tell whether a friend applied it or an enemy did. If I hold someone to my chest and press hard, no machine can tell whether the pressure is on a friend or on an enemy; it can only say, “Such-and-such pressure is being applied.”
Therefore pressure is neutral; everything depends on how we take it. The vision needs to change. Pressure will remain all around; we will have to choose how to take it.
And then the fun is that with our own hands we invite people to press us. If I begin to worry what you think about me, I am inviting you to press me. If I do not worry at all what you think about me, I have returned the invitation. Now I am saying: your pressing has no meaning; you will labor in vain. Your pressing will create no pressure.
We are sending invitations to pressure twenty-four hours a day. We keep asking, “What does so-and-so think of me?” The moment you find out, pressure begins.
What need is there to worry about who thinks what of you? It is enough what I think of myself. And what need have you to think about others? Because the moment you begin to think about another, you too start exerting pressure, and then there will be reactionary pressure. We weave our own web—throughout the time we weave it—and in this web the juice of living gets lost.
Give priority to the juice of living. And make everything else a means for that juice—everything. Make the friend a means, and the enemy too. Remember: for the person who wants to live rightly, an enemy is also necessary, because an enemy brings a certain flavor to life which becomes utterly empty if the enemy dies. He gives life a contrast. Only this much: an alert man will create alert enemies; an intelligent man, intelligent enemies; a great man, great enemies. But an enemy is also necessary; he gives movement from all sides.
For example, you cannot imagine: without the British Empire, Gandhi could not have been produced. There was no way to produce a Gandhi. In Gandhi’s birth, the part of his parents is less than that of the British rule; they are the real father and mother. He was born in that pressure.
If Jesus had not been crucified, Christianity would not have existed in the world. The begetter of Christianity is not Jesus; its mother is the system that crucified him. From the pressure of the crucifixion a movement was born; everything spread out in ever-widening circles.
Therefore, beside Jesus no Indian tirthankara or avatar could win in that sense. The reason is that on no Indian tirthankara or avatar was such pressure exerted; no one was hung on a cross. Hence such vast circles could not be created around them. That Christianity became a world religion is because one man died—he staked everything.
But if those who were staking had been of another kind—suppose very intelligent people, as may be in the future—then the birth of a Jesus would become difficult. If they had not crucified him, had not taken his words seriously, and had said, “All right, say whatever you like, say it at your leisure,” Jesus would have been lost so completely that it would be hard to find any trace.
Those who are very intelligent even say—those who know this secret say—that in this whole play Jesus too had a hand. That Jesus be crucified—there was Jesus’ hand in it. This conspiracy was inspired from Jesus’ side. He had prepared the whole drama. And Judas, who “sold” Jesus, was his disciple—his dearest disciple—and there is great possibility that at Jesus’ own prompting he went to incite the enemies and “betrayed” him.
Jesus wanted to be crucified, because the moment he is crucified, what he has said becomes engraved forever on the human mind. The cross will drive it so deeply into human consciousness that it can never be erased. So Jesus was using even his death. He wanted that what he had to say keep creating vibrations for eternity; therefore he wanted himself to be put on the cross. There is nothing astonishing in this; it is possible. For a man as understanding as Jesus, it is possible that he even arranged his own cross. There is no great difficulty in it.
Use the outer pressure that seems adverse to us. All of it can be used. Do not fear it, do not run from it, do not take it as misery—use that too. Life is an art of using. Everything depends on how we use it. And why keep sending invitations? We go on inviting misery. Invite happiness! The invitation you send is what comes to your door. But you have never sent invitations to happiness; you have always sent them to misery. They have come—and keep coming, every day. The guests you call arrive at the house; those you do not call do not come. Then you weep, “How to get rid of these guests?” But you go on sending them invitation cards, morning and evening, even today.
Stop sending your invitation-cards to sorrow. Call joy. It too is just as ready to come. And do not wait, thinking it will come by itself, or that we will reach somewhere and find it. No—one has to live every day in such a way that we create it each moment. It is born moment to moment.
Human capacity is astonishing, immense. If any outer pressure were truly unbearable, you would simply snap; you would not even remain to ask the question. So that is outside the question—such a person would not come to ask; his story is already over. The outer pressure is never so much that you break; you survive all pressures.
So the pressure is not as great as you see it to be; you are always greater than it. And the magnitude we attribute to it is our imagination—our habit of choosing misery because of which we see it as pressure.
And life always has two sides. What do you call pressure?
You walk on the ground. The earth is pulling you all the time. The air is pressing you all the time. There is a constant pressure of air upon you; the earth is pulling from below. Now you could sit down and say, “How can I walk? How will I bear such pressure? I will die!” The earth pulls you continuously and the air presses you continuously. Such a mass of air—layers two hundred miles deep—presses all the time; and gravity is tugging all the time.
And the fun is: if you think that because of this you are obstructed from walking, you are mistaken. It is because of this that walking is possible. If the earth did not pull and the air did not press, you would be lost in the infinite; there would be no trace of you. Because the earth pulls, we are on the ground. Because the air presses, we can walk upon it. Even a tiny ant bears the same pressure, and it too walks. If all pressure were removed, that ant, we, and the whole world would be lost in the infinite—we would depart this very moment.
The pressure around us is part of life; we have to live with it. If it were removed entirely, you would go mad—you wouldn’t last a minute. So there is no need to be afraid of it; there is a need to use that pressure. Use that pressure too.
We are already using it. There will be pressure from outside twenty-four hours a day; use those pressures. Take joy even from those pressures.
See the fun of it: the pressures are the same; our vision changes. If I grab an enemy and squeeze him to my chest, the pressure is the same. If a beloved comes and I embrace him, the pressure is the same. The enemy pulls out a knife—“You are killing me!” The friend thanks you for the hug. The pressure is exactly the same. Their perspectives differ—how is the pressure to change? If we had an instrument to measure pressure, it could not tell whether a friend applied it or an enemy did. If I hold someone to my chest and press hard, no machine can tell whether the pressure is on a friend or on an enemy; it can only say, “Such-and-such pressure is being applied.”
Therefore pressure is neutral; everything depends on how we take it. The vision needs to change. Pressure will remain all around; we will have to choose how to take it.
And then the fun is that with our own hands we invite people to press us. If I begin to worry what you think about me, I am inviting you to press me. If I do not worry at all what you think about me, I have returned the invitation. Now I am saying: your pressing has no meaning; you will labor in vain. Your pressing will create no pressure.
We are sending invitations to pressure twenty-four hours a day. We keep asking, “What does so-and-so think of me?” The moment you find out, pressure begins.
What need is there to worry about who thinks what of you? It is enough what I think of myself. And what need have you to think about others? Because the moment you begin to think about another, you too start exerting pressure, and then there will be reactionary pressure. We weave our own web—throughout the time we weave it—and in this web the juice of living gets lost.
Give priority to the juice of living. And make everything else a means for that juice—everything. Make the friend a means, and the enemy too. Remember: for the person who wants to live rightly, an enemy is also necessary, because an enemy brings a certain flavor to life which becomes utterly empty if the enemy dies. He gives life a contrast. Only this much: an alert man will create alert enemies; an intelligent man, intelligent enemies; a great man, great enemies. But an enemy is also necessary; he gives movement from all sides.
For example, you cannot imagine: without the British Empire, Gandhi could not have been produced. There was no way to produce a Gandhi. In Gandhi’s birth, the part of his parents is less than that of the British rule; they are the real father and mother. He was born in that pressure.
If Jesus had not been crucified, Christianity would not have existed in the world. The begetter of Christianity is not Jesus; its mother is the system that crucified him. From the pressure of the crucifixion a movement was born; everything spread out in ever-widening circles.
Therefore, beside Jesus no Indian tirthankara or avatar could win in that sense. The reason is that on no Indian tirthankara or avatar was such pressure exerted; no one was hung on a cross. Hence such vast circles could not be created around them. That Christianity became a world religion is because one man died—he staked everything.
But if those who were staking had been of another kind—suppose very intelligent people, as may be in the future—then the birth of a Jesus would become difficult. If they had not crucified him, had not taken his words seriously, and had said, “All right, say whatever you like, say it at your leisure,” Jesus would have been lost so completely that it would be hard to find any trace.
Those who are very intelligent even say—those who know this secret say—that in this whole play Jesus too had a hand. That Jesus be crucified—there was Jesus’ hand in it. This conspiracy was inspired from Jesus’ side. He had prepared the whole drama. And Judas, who “sold” Jesus, was his disciple—his dearest disciple—and there is great possibility that at Jesus’ own prompting he went to incite the enemies and “betrayed” him.
Jesus wanted to be crucified, because the moment he is crucified, what he has said becomes engraved forever on the human mind. The cross will drive it so deeply into human consciousness that it can never be erased. So Jesus was using even his death. He wanted that what he had to say keep creating vibrations for eternity; therefore he wanted himself to be put on the cross. There is nothing astonishing in this; it is possible. For a man as understanding as Jesus, it is possible that he even arranged his own cross. There is no great difficulty in it.
Use the outer pressure that seems adverse to us. All of it can be used. Do not fear it, do not run from it, do not take it as misery—use that too. Life is an art of using. Everything depends on how we use it. And why keep sending invitations? We go on inviting misery. Invite happiness! The invitation you send is what comes to your door. But you have never sent invitations to happiness; you have always sent them to misery. They have come—and keep coming, every day. The guests you call arrive at the house; those you do not call do not come. Then you weep, “How to get rid of these guests?” But you go on sending them invitation cards, morning and evening, even today.
Stop sending your invitation-cards to sorrow. Call joy. It too is just as ready to come. And do not wait, thinking it will come by itself, or that we will reach somewhere and find it. No—one has to live every day in such a way that we create it each moment. It is born moment to moment.