Osho - No Water No Moon
Chapter 2. Trading
Dialogue for Lodging
There is an old tradition in some Japanese
Zen temples that if a wandering monk can win an argument about buddhism with
one of the resident monks, he can stay the night. If not, he has to move on.
There was such a temple in northern Japan
run by two brothers. The elder brother was very learned and the younger brother
was rather stupid, and he had only one eye.
One evening a wandering monk came to ask
for lodging. The elder brother was very tired as he had been studying for many
hours, so he told the younger brother to go and take the debate. "Request
that the dialogue be in silence," said the elder brother.
A little later the traveler came to the
elder brother and said, "What a wonderful fellow your brother is. He has
won the debate very cleverly, so I must move on. Good night."
"Before you go," said the elder
brother, "please relate the dialogue to me."
"Well," said the traveler,
"first I held up one finger to represent buddha.
Then your brother held up two fingers to
represent buddha and his teaching. So I held up three fingers to represent
buddha, his teaching, and his followers. Then your clever brother shook his
clenched fist in my face to indicate that all three came from one
realization." With that the traveler left.
A little later the younger brother came in
looking very distressed. "I understand you won the debate," said the
elder brother.
"Won nothing," said the younger
brother, "that traveler is a very rude man."
"Oh?" said the elder brother,
"Tell me the subject of the debate.
"Why," said the younger brother,
"the moment he saw me, he held up one finger insulting me by indicating
that I have only one eye. But because he was a stranger I thought I would be
polite, so I held up two fingers congratulating him on having two eyes. At
this, the impolite wretch held up three fingers to show that we had but three
eyes between us, so I got mad and threatened to punch his nose - so he
went."
The elder brother laughed.
All debates are futile and
stupid. Debate as such is foolish, because no one can reach the truth through
discussion, through debate. You may get a night's shelter, but that's all.
Hence the tradition.
The tradition is beautiful. In
any Zen monastery in Japan, for many centuries, if you ask for shelter you have
to discuss. If you win the debate, you can stay for the night - this is very
symbolic - but only for the night. In the morning you have to move on. This
indicates that through debate, logic, reasoning, you can never reach the goal,
only a night's shelter. And don't deceive yourself that the night's shelter is
the goal. You have to move on. In the morning you have to again be on your
feet.
But many have deceived
themselves. They think that whatsoever they have attained through logic is the
goal. The night's shelter has become the ultimate. They are not moving, and
many mornings have passed. Logic can lead to hypothetical conclusions, never to
truth. Logic can lead to something which approximates truth, but never to the
truth.
And remember, that which
approximates the truth is also a lie, because what does it mean? Either
something is true or not true; there is no in-between. Either something is true
or it is not true. You cannot say that this is a half-truth; there is nothing
like that - just like there cannot be a half-circle, because the very word
circle means the full. Half-circles don't exist. If it is half, it is not a
circle.
Half-truths don't exist. Truth
is the whole, you cannot have it in fragments, you cannot have it in parts.
Approximate truth is a deception, but logic can lead only to the deception. You
may have a shelter for the night, just to retire, relax, but don't make it your
home. By the morning you have to move again, the journey cannot end there. Every
morning it will begin again and again. Relax in the logic, in the reasoning,
but don't remain with it, don't become static with it - and continually
remember that you have to move.
The tradition is beautiful. So
one thing to be understood about the tradition and the meaning; it is symbolic.
Second thing: all discussions are foolish, because through the mood of
discussion you can never understand the other. Whatsoever he says is
misunderstood. A mind which is bent on winning, conquering, cannot understand.
It is impossible, because understanding needs a nonviolent mind. When you are
seeking how to be victorious, you are violent.
Debate is violence. You can
kill through it, you cannot revive through it. You cannot give life through it,
you can murder through it. Truths can be murdered through debate, but they
cannot be resurrected. It is violence; the very attitude is violent. Really,
you are not asking for the truth, you are asking for the victory. When victory
is the goal, truth will be sacrificed. When truth is the goal, you can
sacrifice victory also.
And truth should be the goal,
not victory, because when victory is the goal you are a politician, not a
religious man. You are aggressive, you are trying somehow to overpower the
other, you are trying somehow to dominate and domineer. And truth can never
become a domination, it can never destroy the other. Truth can never be a
victory in the sense that you have overpowered the other.
Truth brings humility,
humbleness. It is not an ego-trip - but all debates are ego-trips. So debate
can never lead to the real; it always leads to the unreal, the untruth, because
the very phenomenon that you are after, victory, is stupid. Truth wins, not
you, not I. In discussion you win or I win, truth never wins.
Real seekers will allow the
truth to win both. Debaters are asking that the victory should belong to me, it
should not belong to the other. In truth, there is no other. In truth, we meet
and become one.
So who can be the winner and
who can be the loser? In truth, no one is defeated. In truth, truth wins and we
are lost. But in discussion I am I and you are you; really there is no bridge.
How can you understand the
other when you are against him? Understanding is impossible.
Understanding needs sympathy,
understanding needs a participation. Understanding means listening to the other
totally, only then understanding flowers. But if you are discussing something,
debating, arguing, reasoning, you are not listening to the other, you only
pretend that you are listening. Deep down you are preparing, deep down you have
already moved to the next step - when the other stops, what you are going to
say. You are getting ready how to refute him. You have not listened to him and
you are trying to refute him!
Really, truth is not significant
in a discussion, in a debate. So debate is never a communication, and it is
impossible through debate to come to a communion. You can argue, and the more
you argue... you fall apart. The more you argue, the bigger the gap is, it
becomes an abyss; there can be no meeting ground. That's why philosophers never
meet, pundits never meet: they are great arguers.
An abyss exists. They cannot
meet with the other - impossible.
Only lovers can meet, but
lovers cannot be in a debate - they can communicate. That's why so much
insistence in the East for shraddha - trust, faith. If you argue with your
master the gap widens.
Then it is better to move; then
let this master be a night's shelter, but move. Being with him will not lead
you anywhere, the gap will widen. If you are argumentative, then the gap cannot
be bridged.
It is impossible. Trust means
sympathy; trust means you are not arguing - you have come to listen, not to
argue. You have come to understand, not to debate. You have not come to win;
rather, you are ready to lose.
A real disciple is always in
search of being defeated by the master. That is the greatest moment in the life
of the disciple, when he is completely destroyed and defeated. Not that the
master is going to win; he is going to be defeated, the disciple is going to be
defeated. And when the disciple is there no more - completely defeated,
disappeared - only then the gap is bridged, the abyss is gone, and the master
can penetrate you.
Hence, it happened: Jesus was
wandering all over his country, but all the disciples that he could gather were
simple men, not a single educated person, not a single scholar. Not that there
were not scholars; there were great scholars at that time. Jews were at the
peak of their glory, that's why they could produce such a son as Jesus. Jesus
was the culmination. Jesus could happen - that shows that the Jews touched
their peak. Never again would they reach to such a peak. There were great
scholars, great debates were arranged. The Jewish synagogue was the seat of
learning, a real university. People would travel from all over the country to
discuss, to debate, to argue, to find; but it was an argument. Not a single
scholar followed Jesus.
Really, all the scholars were
unanimously agreed that this man should be destroyed. All the scholars, learned
people, were ready to kill this man. Why? - because this man was against
argument. He was pulling at their very base; the whole structure would fall
down. This man was saying something against reason. He was talking about faith,
he was talking about love, he was talking about how to create a bridge between
two hearts.
Debate is between two minds,
two heads; love, communication, trust, is between two hearts. He was opening a
new route - of friendship, of discipleship, of growth. He was thinking in terms
of a totally different dimension - the quality was different. He was saying,
"Put aside your scriptures.
Your bibles are not needed,
because they are only words." The scholar, the pundit, couldn't tolerate
it. Jesus was crucified.
He could only find simple
people: a fisherman, a woodcutter, a shoemaker - simple men. All his disciples,
except Judas, were uneducated. Only Judas was really cultured, a refined
gentleman, and he sold Jesus for thirty pieces of silver. This cultured, refined
Judas betrayed him, and Jesus knew that if anybody can betray him it is Judas.
Why? Because the heart can be betrayed only by the head. Love can only be
betrayed by logic; nothing else can betray.
So this is the second thing to
remember before I enter the story; that through logic, through the head,
argumentativeness, you become alien, strangers to each other; the bridge
between is lost.
How can you attain to the truth
when you cannot understand the other, when you are not even capable of
listening to him, when your mind goes on and on inside arguing, fighting? You
are violent, aggressive. This aggression will not help.
So all debates are futile, they
never lead anywhere. Even if you feel that a conclusion is reached, the
conclusion is forced; it is not reached through discussion. You can silence the
other but conviction never comes out of it, never. And I say it categorically:
never. If you have some logical tricks, you can silence the other. He may not
be able to answer you. You know more than he knows. You know more tricks than
he knows. You can put him in a corner through words and reasoning and he is
unable to answer. But this is not the way to convince him. Deep down he knows
that, "Some day I will find more tricks and put you right in your place.
Right now I cannot answer. Okay, I accept defeat." He is defeated, but not
won over.
And these are two different
things. When you win a heart he is not defeated - he is happy. He is victorious
in your victory, he participates. It is not your victory - truth has won, and
you both can celebrate. But when you defeat a person, he is never won over; he
remains the enemy. Deep down he is waiting for the right moment when he can
assert himself.
No debate can become a
conviction. And if conviction is not reached, where is the conclusion? The
conclusion is forced, it is always premature. It is just like an abortion, it
is not a natural birth. You have forced - a dead child is born or a crippled
child, who is going to remain crippled, weak and dead his whole life.
Socrates used to say, "I
am a midwife, I help natural birth." A master is a midwife. He is not
going to force, because a forced birth cannot be a real birth. It is more like
death and less like life.
So a master is never
argumentative. And if sometimes he appears to be argumentative, he is just
playing with you - and playing for a certain reason. Don't become a victim. He
is playing for a certain reason; he can be argumentative just to find whether
your argumentativeness is aroused or not. If it is aroused, you have missed. If
you can listen to his argumentativeness without becoming argumentative, he will
not play the game with you. He has to look within you. You may be consciously
listening, unconsciously argumentative. Then he has to bring your unconscious
up so that you can become aware of it.
Sometimes a master will look as
if he is aggressive, as if he is bent upon defeating you. But he is never bent
upon your defeat - just to defeat your ego, not you; just to destroy your ego,
not you.
And remember: the ego is the
poison, it is destroying you. Once the poison is destroyed you will be free and
alive for the first time. An abundance of light will happen to you for the
first time. He is destroying the disease, not you.
Sometimes he may have to be
argumentative. There have been masters who were very argumentative. It was
impossible to defeat them, impossible to play the game of words with them.
But they were just helping to
bring your consciousness up, so that you can become aware whether your faith is
true or not.
It happened: a Sufi, Junnaid,
was living with his master. And the master was so argumentative that whatsoever
you said, he would immediately negate it. If you said, "It is day,"
he would say, "No, it is night" - and it was really not so, it was
day.
Whatsoever Junnaid would say,
he would always find that the master would negate it. And he would simply bow
down his head and say, "Yes, Master, it is night."
One day the master said,
"Junnaid, you have won. I couldn't create argumentativeness in you. And I
was so obviously false that anybody who had never argued anything would say,
'What foolishness.
It is day. There is no need to
argue, it is so obvious.' And still you said, 'Yes, Master, it is night.'
Your trust is deep. Now I will
never be argumentative with you, now I can talk truth, because you are
ready."
When the heart says yes
totally, then you are ready to listen. And only then the truth can be revealed
to you. If even a slight no remains within you, the truth cannot be said to
you, because that 'no' will destroy the whole thing. The no, howsoever small,
is powerful, very powerful; then the truth will be said but it will not be
revealed to you. The no will hide it again.
That's why I say all debates
are futile. And that's why I go on repeating again and again that the whole
effort of philosophy has been useless. It has not reached any conclusion - it
cannot.
I will tell you one story, then
I will enter this Zen anecdote.
Once it happened, a great prime
minister of a very great emperor died. The prime minister was rare, very
intelligent, almost wise, very cunning, shrewd, a great diplomat, and it was
very difficult to find a substitute. The whole kingdom was searched. All the
ministers were sent to find at least three people; then the final decision will
be taken and one of them will be chosen.
For months the search was on.
The whole kingdom was searched; every nook and corner was searched. Then three
persons were found. One was a great scientist, a great mathematician. He could
solve any mathematical problem, and mathematics is really the only positive
science - all sciences are its branches - so he was at the root.
Another was a great
philosopher, he was a great system-maker: out of nothing he could create all.
Just out of words, he could
create such beautiful systems - it is a miracle, only philosophers can do it.
They have nothing in their hands; they are the greatest magicians. They create
God, they create the theory of creation, they create everything - and nothing
is there in their hands. But they are clever artisans of words: they join words
together in such a way that they give you a feeling of substance - and nothing
is there.
And the third one was a
religious man, a man of faith, prayer, devotion. And the people who were
searching for these three men must have been very wise, because they had found
three.
These three represent the three
dimensions of consciousness. These are the only possibilities: a man of
science, a man of philosophy and a man of religion - these are the basis. A man
of science is concerned with experiments: unless something is proved through
experiment, it is not proved. He is empirical, experimental; his truth is the
truth of experiment.
A man of philosophy is a man of
logic, not of experiments. Experiment is not the question; just through logic
he proves, disproves. He is a pure man, purer than the scientist, because the
scientist has to bring experiments in, then the laboratory comes in. A man of
philosophy works without a lab - just in the mind, with logic, with
mathematics. His whole lab is in his mind. He can prove and disprove just
through logical arguments. He can solve any riddle or he can create any type of
riddle.
And the third is the religious
dimension. This man does not look at life as a problem. Life is not a problem for
a religious man. It is nothing to be solved, it is something to be lived.
The religious man is the man of
experience, the scientist is the man of experiment, the philosopher is the man
of thinking. The religious is the man of experience, he looks at life as
something to be lived. If there is any solution, it will come through experience,
it will come through living. Nothing can be decided beforehand through logic,
because life is greater than logic. Logic is just a bubble in the vast ocean of
life, so it cannot explain all. And experiments can be done only when you are
detached, experiments can be done only with objects.
Life is not an object, it is
the very core of subjectivity. When you experiment you are different; when you
live you are one. So the religious man says, "Unless you are one with
life, you can never know it." How can you know it from the outside? You
may go about and about, around and around, but you will never hit the target.
So neither experiment, nor thinking, but experience; simple, trusting - a man
of faith.
They searched and they found
these three men, and then they were called to the capital for the final
judgment. The king said, "For three days you rest and get ready. On the
morning of the fourth day will be the examination, the final. One of you will
be chosen and he will become my prime minister - the one who is proved to be
the most wise."
They started working in their
own ways. Three days were not enough! The scientist had to think of many
experiments, and work it out - who knows what type of examination there is
going to be? So he couldn't sleep for three days, there was no time: and there
was his whole life to sleep once he was chosen, so why bother about sleep? He
would not sleep, he would not eat - there was not time enough, and many things
were to be done before the examination.
The philosopher started
thinking, many problems were to be solved: "Who knows what type of problem
is going to be asked?" Only the religious man was at ease. He ate, and ate
well. Only a religious man can eat well, because eating is an offering, it is
something sacred. He slept well.
He would pray, sit outside, go
for a walk, look at the trees, and be thankful to God; because for a religious
man there is no future and there is no final examination. Every moment is the
examination, so how can you prepare for it? If something is in the future you
can prepare; but if something is right now, here, how can you prepare for it?
You have to face it. And there was no future.
Sometimes the scientist said,
"What are you doing? Wasting time - eating, sleeping, prayer. You can do
your prayers later on." But he would laugh and he would not argue, he was
not a man of argument.
The philosopher would say,
"You go on sleeping, you go on sitting outside in the garden, you go on
looking at the trees. This is not going to help. Examination is not a child's
play, you have to be ready for it." But he would laugh. He believed more
in laughter than in logic.
And on the morning of the
fourth day, when they started for the palace for the final examination, the
scientist was not even in a position to walk. He was so tired with his
experiments, as if his whole life had oozed out. He was dead tired, as if any
moment he would fall and go to sleep. His eyes were sleepy and his mind was
troubled. He was almost crazy.
And the philosopher? He was not
so tired, but he was more uncertain than ever, because he had thought and
thought and argued and argued, and no argument can become the conclusion. He
was muddled, in a mess, he was a chaos. The day he had arrived he could have
answered many things, but now, no. Even his certain answers had become
uncertain. The more you think, the more philosophy becomes useless. Only fools
can believe in certainties. The more you think, the more intelligence comes to
you, you can see these are all just words, there is no substance. Many times he
wanted to go back because this was not going to be of any use. He was not in
the right shape.
But the scientist said,
"Come on! Let us try. What are we going to lose? If we win, it is okay. If
we don't win, it is okay. But let us try. Don't be so discouraged."
Only the religious man was
walking happily, singing. He could hear the birds in the trees, he could see
the sun rising, he could see the sunrays on the dewdrops. The whole life was
such a miracle.
He was not worried because
there was no examination - he would go and face the thing, he would simply go
and see what happens. And he was not asking for anything, he was not expecting,
he was fresh, young, alive - and that's all. That's how one should approach
God; not with readymade formulas, not with readymade theories, not with many
experimental research works, not with many PhD's. No, it is not going to help.
This is the way one should go - singing and dancing to the temple.
And if you are alive, then
whatsoever comes you can respond to it, because response is through life, it is
through the heart, and the heart is ready when it is singing, when it is
dancing.
They arrived. The emperor had
made a very special device. They were taken into a room where he had fixed a
lock, a mathematical puzzle. Many figures were on the lock, but there was no
key.
Those figures were to be fixed
in a certain way: the secret was there, but one had to search for it and find
it. If those figures were fixed in a certain way the door would open. The
emperor took them in and said, "This is a mathematical puzzle, one of the
greatest ever known. Now you have to find the clue - there is no key. If you
can find the clue, the answer to this mathematical problem, the lock will open.
And the person who comes out of this room first will be chosen. So now
start." He closed the door and went out.
Immediately the scientist
started working out many experiments, many things, many problems on paper. He
looked - observed the figures on the lock. There was no time to lose, it was a
question of life and death. The philosopher closed his eyes, started thinking
in mathematical terms what to do, how this puzzle can be solved. The puzzle was
absolutely new.
That is the problem with the
mind: if something is old the answer can be found, but if something is
absolutely new, how can you work it out through the mind? The mind is quite
efficient with the old, the known, the routine. Mind is absolutely inefficient
when the unknown faces it.
The religious man never went to
the lock, because what can he do? He does not know any mathematics, he does not
know any experimental science. What can he do? He just sat in a corner. He sang
a little, prayed to God, closed his eyes. Those two others were thinking that
he is not a competitor at all. "In a way it is good, because the thing has
to be decided between us two."
Then suddenly they became aware
that he had left the room, he was not there. The door was open.
The emperor came in and he
said, "What are you doing now? It is finished. The third man is out."
But they asked, "How?...
because he never did anything."
So they asked the religious
man. He said, "I was just sitting. I prayed and I was just sitting and a
voice said within me, 'You fool. Just go and see. The door is not locked.' And
I just went to the door; it was not locked. There was no problem at all to be
solved, so I went out."
Life is not a problem. If you
are trying to solve it you will miss it. The door is open, it has never been
locked. If the door was locked, then scientists would find the solution. If the
door was locked, then philosophers may find a system to open it. But the door
is not locked, so only faith can go - without any solution, without any
readymade answer. Push the door open and get out.
Life is not a riddle to be
solved, it is a mystery to be lived. It is a deep mystery, so trust and allow
yourself to enter into it. No debate can be of any help - with somebody else,
or with yourself inside the mind - no debate. All debates are futile and
stupid.
Now we will enter this
beautiful story:
There is an old tradition in
some Japanese Zen temples that if a wandering monk can win an argument about
buddhism with one of the resident monks, he can stay the night. If not, he has
to move on.
Arguments can give you this
much - a night's shelter, but that's all.
There was such a temple in
northern Japan run by two brothers. The elder brother was very learned and the
younger brother was rather stupid, and he had only one eye.
Two types of people are needed
to run a temple: a learned person and a very stupid one. And this is how all
temples are run - two types of people: the learned who have become the priests,
and the stupid who follow them. This is how every temple is run.
So these stories are not just
stories, they are indications to particular facts. If stupid people disappear
from the earth there will be no temples. If learned people disappear from the
temples there will be no temples. A duality is needed for a temple to exist.
That's why you cannot find God in a temple - because you cannot find him in a
duality.
These temples are inventions of
the clever people to exploit the stupid. All temples are inventions - clever
people exploiting... they have become the priests. Priests are the most clever
people, they are the greatest exploiters, and they exploit in such a way that
you cannot even revolt against them. They exploit you for your own sake, they
exploit you for your own good. Priests are the most clever because they spin theories
out of nothing: all the theologies, all that they have created - tremendous!
Cleverness is needed to create religious theories. And they go on creating such
big edifices that it is almost impossible for an ordinary man to enter those
edifices. And they use such jargon, they use such technical terms, that you
cannot understand what they are talking about. And when you cannot understand
you think they are very profound. Whenever you cannot understand a thing you
think it is very profound - "It is beyond me."
Remember this: Buddha speaks in
a very ordinary language which can be understood by anybody.
It is not the language of a
priest. Jesus speaks in small parables - any uneducated man can understand it -
he never uses any religious jargon. Mahavira talks, gives his teachings, in the
language of the most ordinary and common people.
Mahavira and Buddha never used
Sanskrit, never, because Sanskrit was the language of the priest, the brahmin.
Sanskrit is the most difficult language. Priests have made it so difficult -
they have polished and polished and polished. The very word sanskrit means
polishing, refining. They have refined it to such a pitch that only if you are
very very learned can you understand what they are saying, otherwise it is
beyond.
Buddha used the language of the
people, Pali. Pali was the language of the people, of the villagers.
Mahavira used Prakrit. Prakrit
is the unrefined form of Sanskrit; Prakrit is the natural form of Sanskrit - no
grammar, not much. The scholar has not entered yet, he has not refined the
words so they become beyond common people. But the priests have been using
Sanskrit, they still use it. Nobody understands Sanskrit now, but they go on
using Sanskrit because their whole profession depends on creating a gap, not a
bridge - in creating a gap. If the common people cannot understand, only then
the priests can survive. If the common people understand what they are saying
they are lost, because they are saying nothing.
Once Mulla Nasruddin went to a
doctor - and doctors have learned the trick from the priests: they write in
Latin and Greek, and they write in such a way that even if they have to read it
again it is difficult. Nobody should understand what they are writing. So Mulla
Nasruddin went to a doctor and he said, "Listen, be plain. Just tell me
the facts. Don't use Latin and Greek."
The doctor said, "If you
insist, and if you allow me to be frank, you are not ill at all. You are just
plain lazy."
Nasruddin said, "Okay,
thank you. Now write it in Greek and Latin so I can show it to my family."
The clever have always been
exploiting the common people. That's why Buddha, Jesus and Mahavira were never
respected by brahmins, scholars, clever ones, because they were destructive,
they were destroying their whole business. If the people understand, then there
is no need for the priest. Why? - because the priest is a mediator. He
understands the language of God. He understands your language. He translates
your language into the language of God. That's why they say Sanskrit is
dev-bhasha, the language of God: "You don't know Sanskrit? - I know, so I
become the intermediate link, I become the interpreter. You tell me what you
want and I will say it in Sanskrit to God, because he understands only
Sanskrit." And of course you have to pay for it.
These are the two types which
are needed for a temple.
There was such a temple in
northern Japan run by two brothers. The elder brother was very learned and the
younger brother was rather stupid, and he had only one eye.
What is the symbolism of one
eye in this story? A stupid person is always one-pointed: he never hesitates,
he is always certain. And a learned person is always dual: he hesitates, he
continuously divides himself into two. He is always arguing within, a dialogue
continues inside; he knows both the sides.
A learned man is a duality -
two eyes. A stupid man is one-eyed - he is always certain, he has no arguments,
he is not divided. That's why, if you look at a stupid person, a stupid person
looks more like a saint than a learned man. If you look at a saint he will have
something similar in him also - of the stupid, of the fool. The quality
differs, but something is the same; the label differs. The fool is just on the
first rung and the saint is on the last rung, but both are at the ends of the
ladder. The fool does not know, that's why he is simple, one-eyed. The saint
knows, that's why he is simple. He is also one-eyed; he calls it the third eye.
The two eyes have disappeared into the third. He is also one-eyed - one. He is
a unity, and a fool is also a unity. But what is the difference?
Ignorance also has an innocence
about it, just like wisdom has an innocence about it. The learned is just in
between: he is ignorant and thinks he is wise. This is the division of the
learned man: he is ignorant and thinks he is wise. He is neither at this level
nor at that, he hangs in between. That's why he is always in tension. An
ignorant man is relaxed, a wise man is relaxed. The ignorant man has not
started his travels, he is at home. The wise man has reached the goal, he is at
home. The learned is in between, seeking shelter in some monastery - even for
one night, it is okay - he is a wanderer.
Buddhist bhikkhus have been
wanderers, and Buddha has said, "Be a wanderer until you attain. Be a wanderer.
Not only inside but outside also, be a wanderer until you attain. Don't stop
before it."
When you have attained, when
you have become a siddha, a Buddha, then you are allowed to sit.
Ignorance and wisdom have a
quality about them which is similar - that is innocence; neither is cunning. So
sometimes it has happened that a man of God has been known as a foolish man, a
fool - God's fool. Saint Francis is known as God's fool. He was! But to be
God's fool is the greatest wisdom possible, because the ego is lost. You don't
say that you know, so you are a fool because you don't claim knowledge. If you
don't claim, who is going to accept that you are a knower? Even if you do
claim, nobody accepts. You have to hammer it on others' heads. You have to make
them silent, argue it. When they cannot say anything, then, with a grudging
heart, they accept that maybe, maybe you are. But they will always say,
"Maybe." They will keep the possibility open that some day they can
deny it.
And if you don't claim, who is
going to accept you? And if you yourself say, "I am ignorant, I know
nothing," who is going to think that you are a knower? People will accept
immediately if you say, "I don't know." They will accept it
immediately; they will say, "We knew it before. We accept it, we totally
agree with you that you don't know."
God's fool! If you read one of
the great novels of Dostoevsky, then you will feel what this God's fool means.
Dostoevsky always has, in his many novels, one character who is the God's fool.
In Brothers Karamazov he is there. He is innocent, you can exploit him. Even if
you exploit him, he will trust you. You can destroy him, but you cannot destroy
his trust - that is the beauty.
What happens to you? If one man
deceives you, the whole of humanity becomes the deceiver. If one man deceives
you, you have lost your trust in man - not with this man, but with the whole of
humanity. If two or three persons deceive you, you make the judgment that there
is no man worth believing. All trust is gone.
It seems that you wanted not to
trust from the very beginning and these two or three people have given you the
excuse. Otherwise you will say, "This man is not trustworthy... but the
whole of humanity? - I don't know, so I must trust unless the contrary is
proved." And if you really are a trusting man, you will say, "Not
only is this man totally untrustworthy this moment, this man was
untrustworthy... but the next moment who knows? Because saints can become
sinners, sinners can become saints."
Life is a movement. Nothing is
static. At this moment the man was weak, but in the next moment he may gain
control and will not deceive again. So the next day, if he comes, you will
believe him again because this day is different, this man is different; the
Ganges has flowed so much, it is not the same river.
Once it happened: one man came
to Mulla Nasruddin and asked for some money. Nasruddin knew this man, knew well
that this money was not going to be returned, but it was such a small sum that
he thought, "Let him take it; even if he is not going to return it,
nothing is lost. So why say no for such a small sum?" So he gave him the
money.
After three days the man
returned. Nasruddin was surprised. It seemed impossible, it was a miracle, that
this man had returned. After two or three days the man came again and asked for
a big sum.
Nasruddin said, "Now! Last
time you deceived me." He said, "Last time you deceived me - now I am
not going to allow it again."
The man said, "What are
you saying? Last time I returned the money."
He said, "Okay, you
returned it, but you deceived me - because I never believed that you would
return it. But this time, no. Enough is enough. Last time you behaved contrary
to my expectations.
But enough; now I am not going
to give it to you."
This is how the cunning mind
works.
One was ignorant in this temple
- a simple man, one-eyed, certain. One was a learned man, and the learned man
is always tired because he is working so hard over nothing. So busy without
business, he is always tired.
One evening a wandering monk
came to ask for lodging. The elder brother was very tired as he had been
studying for many hours...
You cannot find a learned man
not tired. Go and look! Go to the pundits of Kashi and look. Always tired,
always tired, working so hard - with words. Remember, even a laborer is not so
tired because he is working with life. When you are working only with words,
futile words, just with the head, you get tired. Life is invigorating! Life
rejuvenates! If you go in the garden and work, you perspire but you are gaining
more energy, you are not losing. You go for a walk and you gain more energy,
because you are living in the moment. If you just close yourself in your study
with words, with words you go on thinking and thinking and thinking - it is such
a dead process, you will be tired. A learned man is always tired. A fool is
always fresh, a saint is also always fresh. They have many similar qualities.
so he told the younger brother
to go and take the debate. "Request that the dialogue be in silence,"
said the elder brother.
... Because he knew that his
brother was stupid. So silence is golden if you are stupid, and silence is
golden if you are a saint also. If you know something, you will remain silent.
If you don't know, it is better to remain silent.
A wise man becomes silent
because he knows, and whatsoever he knows cannot be said. A fool has to be
silent, because whatsoever he says he will be caught. A fool can deceive if he
is silent but he cannot deceive if he speaks, because whatsoever comes out of
him will bring his foolishness.
This learned brother knew well
that this younger brother was not a man of words, was a simple man, innocent,
ignorant, so he said, "Request that the dialogue be in silence."
A little later the traveler
came to the elder brother and said, "What a wonderful fellow your brother
is."
This other man must have also
been a learned man, and if a fool is silent he can defeat a learned man. If you
speak you will be caught, because then you enter into the world of the learned
man.
With words, you cannot win.
This other man was also a
learned man, a man of words. It would have been very difficult for him to
remain silent and debate. How to discuss? If you are not allowed to speak, just
use gestures, the whole thing becomes dumb and your whole cleverness is lost,
because if you are not allowed to speak.... That was your only efficiency. So
if a learned man is to remain silent he can be defeated by a fool also, because
his whole efficiency is lost - it belonged to words.
In silence he is a fool - this
is the meaning. That's why scholars will never be silent, they are always
chattering. If nobody is there, they are chattering with themselves, but they
are chattering. They go on talking and talking and talking, within and without,
because through this talking their efficiency grows greater and greater, they
become more and more proficient. But if they encounter silence, suddenly all
their art is gone. They are more stupid than a stupid man. Even a stupid man
can defeat them. They are out of their professional world, they are simply
switched off. He must have been in very great difficulty.
He said,
"What a wonderful fellow
your brother is. He has won the debate very cleverly, so I must move on. Good
night."
If you encounter a learned man,
remain silent. Face him with gestures. You will defeat him because he knows
nothing about gestures, he knows nothing about silence. Really, it is very
difficult for him to remain without words. The traveler immediately thought he
had been defeated - he must move on and reach another monastery before it is
too late, and find a fellow who can debate with him in words, intellectually.
Gestures are alive; when you
move your hand, your whole being moves it. When you look with your eyes, your
whole being pours through them. When you walk, you walk as a whole man. Your
legs cannot walk by themselves, but your head can go on spinning and spinning
by itself. The head can become autonomous. No other part of the body can become
autonomous. So if you want to study a man, don't listen to what he says.
Rather, look how he behaves, how he comes in the room, how he sits, how he
walks, how he looks. Look at his gestures, they will reveal the truth.
Words are deceivers. We talk
not to reveal but to hide. So be silent and look at a person - how he stands,
how he sits, how he looks, what gestures he is making. Body language is truer
than your head language. And body language is very, very natural; it comes from
the very source, so it is very difficult to deceive through it. You may be saying
something, but your face goes on saying something else. You may be saying,
"I am right," but your eyes, your very manner, the way you are
standing, says that you know you are wrong. You may be showing through your
words that you are confident, but your whole body gives a tremble and shows
that you are not.
When a thief enters, he enters
in a different way. When a liar appears, he appears in a different way. When a
man of truth walks, he walks differently. He has nothing to hide, he has no
reason to deceive. He is true, his walk is innocent. Just do something that you
have to hide, then watch yourself - your body will say everything is different.
Even while walking you are hiding something.
Your stomach is strained, you
are alert, your eyes are looking everywhere to see if somebody is looking or
not, whether you are caught or not. Your eyes are sly, they are not pools of
innocence - cunning. Watch your body movements, they will give you a truer
picture of yourself. Don't listen to words.
This I have to do continuously.
People come to me with all sorts of deceptions. I have to look at their
gestures, not at what they say. They may be touching my feet but their whole
gesture is showing ego, so that the touching of feet is useless. They are
manipulating it. They are not only deceiving me, they are deceiving themselves.
Their whole gesture says, "Ego!" and whatsoever they say through
words is humbleness.
You cannot deceive through the
body; your body is truer than your mind. And all the religions which have been
invented by the priests say to you, "Be against the body and be with the
mind" - because a priest lives in the mind, exploits through the mind.
With the body it is impossible to exploit; the body is authentic. Even
centuries of inauthentic living have not been able to destroy the authenticity
of the body. The body remains authentic, it shows clearly who you are.
He has won the debate very
cleverly, so I must move on. Good night."
"Before you go," said
the elder brother, "please relate the dialogue to me."
He must have been puzzled. How
could this stupid brother of his be clever? What has happened?
He is a perfect fool - how
could he discuss, how could he debate, how could he have won? So he asked,
"Before you go," said the elder brother, "please relate the
dialogue to me."
"Well," said the
traveler, "first I held up one finger to represent buddha.
... Because a man of learning,
even while he is making a gesture, uses the gesture as words, because he knows
only one language. If he kisses his beloved, inside he will say the word kiss.
This is foolishness; you are
kissing, there is no need to repeat 'kiss' inside, but he will. You watch
yourself: while making love, you will say inside, "I am making love."
What nonsense! Nobody is asking you. Nobody is there to be told. Why do you go
on repeating? Whenever you do something, why do you verbalize it? Because
without verbalizing you are not at ease. You are at ease only with words. With
God you cannot be at ease. With the word god it is okay - that's why a man of
learning will go to the temple, to the mosque, to the church; there too he goes
on chattering. He will chatter with God - but words.
Soren Kierkegaard has said,
"When I first entered the church, I used to talk. I used to say things,
complain, pray. But then, by and by, it felt foolish. I am talking to him and I
am not giving him any chance, any opportunity for him to talk to me. It is
better to listen; when you are before God, it is better to listen." So he
dropped talking. By and by, he dropped all prayer. He would just go into the
church and sit silently, but in his silence there were also words inside. He
was not using them outside, but inside they were revolving.
So, by and by, he also had to
drop the words inside - then only listening becomes possible. Then you enter a
totally different dimension - of listening, of passivity, of receptivity. You become
a womb.
Then you can receive the truth
- then you are not talking, then you are not aggressive. Then only God is
working and you are allowing him to work. Then he became absolutely silent;
then he stopped going to church.
Somebody asked, "Why? Why
have you stopped going to church?"
He said, "Now I have
learned what church means; it only means to be silent and to be listening.
That can be done anywhere, and
it is better to do it somewhere else because many other people go there, to the
church, chattering. They disturb me. It is better under a tree. It is better
under the sky."
The church is greater there,
more natural. And if you have to be silent, then God is everywhere.
If you have to talk, then go to
the temple. But if you have to be silent, why go anywhere? He is everywhere,
but you cannot be silent. You do something and you repeat it inside. You feel
hunger and you say, "I am hungry." Is it not enough to feel hunger?
Unless you say it, you are not at ease; you have become addicted to words.
This man... a learned man he
must have been, really a perfectly learned man:
"Well," he said,
"first I held up one finger to represent buddha.
Then your brother held up two
fingers to represent buddha and his teaching. - the dhamma.
A man who cannot use a gesture without
words will interpret the other's gestures also in words. Now look at the link.
What is happening? And you will also link the other's gesture to the same way
you interpret your own words.
He was thinking, "This
finger, one finger represents...." A finger represents nobody. A finger is
enough unto itself. A finger is just a finger. Why make it a representative? It
is not representative of anybody. And the finger is so beautiful, why should it
represent anything? But the mind always loves secondhand things. The finger is
not enough, it must represent somebody.
If you look at a flower, you
cannot look at the flower directly; immediately it must represent something. So
you say, "Looks just like my wife's face." Even the moon, you say,
"Looks like my beloved's face." What nonsense. The moon is the moon.
And this man, when he looks at his beloved's face, will say, "Looks like
the moon." Neither the moon is enough unto itself, nor the beloved's face
is enough unto itself. And everything is enough unto itself. Nobody is
representing anybody.
Everybody is representing only
himself. Everyone is original, unique. No one is a carbon copy.
And when you say the finger
represents Buddha, Buddha has become the original, the finger has become the
carbon copy. No! This Buddha cannot allow it. I cannot allow it! The finger is
so beautiful not representing anybody. But if you think your finger represents
Buddha, then the other's two fingers will represent Buddha and his dhamma - his
teaching. Because the way you understand the other is not by listening to the
other, you understand the other by listening to your own mind.
You interpret the other. When I
say something, never believe that you have heard the same. When I say something
you hear something, but that is not related to me; it is linked with your own
thought process.
His thought process was,
"This finger represents Buddha." Then when the other put up two
fingers he was blissfully unaware what he meant. You cannot understand the
other if you have words inside, because then everything links with your word,
with your thinking process, and then it is colored. The traveler thought he is
saying two things are there, not one: Buddha and his dhamma - his teaching, his
law.
" So I held up three
fingers." - look at the link inside.
You are not communicating with
the other at all. You are communicating with yourself. This is what madness
means. Madness means not relating to the other, just going inside and linking
your new moment with the past, the new experience with the past - interpreting,
coloring it.
" So I held up three
fingers." - because if he says, "Buddha, dhamma," I will say,
"Buddha, dhamma, sangha - Buddha, his teaching and his followers."
There are three - these are the
three Buddhist shelters. When a bhikkhu wants to be initiated, becomes a
bhikkhu, he says, "BUDDHAM SHARANAM GACHCHHAMI - I go, I take shelter in
Buddha. DHAMMAM SHARANAM GACHCHHAMI, I take shelter in the teaching. SANGHAM
SHARANAM GACHCHHAMI, I take shelter in the sangha, in the followers of Buddha."
These are the three shelters, the three jewels of Buddhism.
But this man is not looking at
what the other man is doing - totally unrelated! - so he raised three fingers.
So I held up three fingers to
represent buddha, his teaching, and his followers. Then your clever brother
shook his clenched fist in my face to indicate that all three came from one
realization." With that the traveler left.
A little later the younger
brother came in looking very distressed. "I understand you won the
debate," said the elder brother.
"Won nothing," said
the younger brother, "that traveler is a very rude man."
"Oh?" said the elder
brother, "Tell me the subject of the debate.
"Why," said the
younger brother, "the moment he saw me, he held up one finger insulting me
by indicating that I have only one eye.
You understand according to
yourself: you read a book, you understand only that which you already know. And
you listen, but you interpret with the past, your past comes in. A man with one
eye is always aware of the wound. He is carrying a wound; everywhere he is
looking for the insult. Nobody is worried about you, but if you have a feeling
of inferiority then you are looking for somebody who is going to insult you.
You are certain about that, and then you will interpret. The other may be
saying, "Buddha"; you will see he is showing that you have only one
eye. Nobody is bothered with your eyes, but we interpret according to our understanding.
One man reached Bayazid, a Sufi
mystic, and asked him a question. He said, "Come back after one year,
because right now you are ill. Your inside is in a turmoil and I cannot utter
the truth because you will not understand it - you will MISunderstand it. So
for one year try to be healthy, silent, meditative and then come back. If I
then feel that you can listen, I will tell. Otherwise, go to somebody
else."
The man listened, went away.
For one year he made every effort to be healthy, silent, peaceful - but never
came back again.
So Bayazid inquired, "What
happened to that seeker?"
Somebody said, "We asked
him, 'Why are you not coming?' He said, 'Now there is no need to come, because
I can understand from here, where I am, what Bayazid can say.'"
This is the paradox: when you
are not ready you ask, but then nothing can be said to you. When you are ready
you don't ask, but only then something can be said to you.
If you are one-eyed you are
always looking for insults, and if you are looking for insults you will find
them - this is the problem. If you are looking for something, this is the
misfortune: you will find it.
Not that anybody is insulting
you; you will find it. So don't look for such things, otherwise you will find
them everywhere.
Somebody will laugh - not at
you, because who are you? Why do you think yourself to be the center of the
world? This is an egoist trend. You are passing down a street and somebody
laughs, and you think they are laughing at you. Why at you? Who are you? Why do
you take it for granted that you are the center of the whole world? Somebody
laughs - laughs at you; somebody insults - insults you; somebody is angry -
angry against you.
In my whole life, I have not
met a single person who was angry at me. Many people were angry but nobody was
angry at me, because I am not the center of the world. Why should they be angry
at me? They are angry - that is something linked with their own being, not with
me. I have come across people who were even violent to me, but they were not violent
to me. This violence was coming out of their past; I was not the cause of its
origination. I may be the excuse, but I was not the cause.
Just an excuse - if I was not
there, somebody else would have done just the same; somebody else would have
become the victim. So it is just coincidental that I was there.
When your wife gets mad at you,
it is coincidental that you are there. Escape! And don't think too much that
she was angry with you. She was angry, you were there, that's all. She would
have been angry at the servant, at the child, at the piano, at anything!
Everybody lives through his own
past. Only buddhas live in the present. Nobody else lives in the present.
This man thought, "Okay,
he is showing that I have only one eye. He is rude. He is insulting me, having
only one eye. But because he was a stranger, I thought I would be polite."
But the moment you think you
should be polite, you are not polite. How can you be? - the idea has entered:
if you think the other is rude, you have become rude. There is not a question
now, because the very idea "the other is rude" is because your own
rudeness has come up. Through your rudeness the other appears rude, you have
colored the other. The other is showing his finger representing Buddha, he has
not even looked at your eye. He is not concerned, he just wants shelter.
A Buddha... and the
interpretation that, "He is showing that I have got only one eye; he is
rude."
When you think about someone
that he is rude, look back: you are rude. That's why you interpret it.
But why are you rude? - because
your rudeness is a way of protecting your wound. Those people who are rude are
always suffering from feelings of inferiority. If a person is not in any way
burdened with a complex of inferiority, he will not be rude. Rudeness is his
protection. Through rudeness he protects his wound. He says, "I will not
allow you to touch my wound. I will not allow you to hit me."
He protects, but protection
becomes projection. He thinks that you are rude, only then can he be rude. This
is a way to be rude. First you have to prove that the other is rude, and still
your ego says, "I will try to be polite."
When you are polite, your
politeness is nothing but a facade. Inside, rudeness has entered, and sooner or
later it will explode.
"But I thought because he
was a stranger I would be polite, so I held up two fingers to congratulate him
on having two eyes."
This is just false. How can you
congratulate any person if you feel insulted? If you feel you have got one eye
and the others have two, how can you congratulate? Deep down you can be
jealous, but how can you congratulate? How can congratulation come out of
jealousy? But all your congratulations come out that way. It is a polite way,
it is culture, etiquette. If you are defeated by someone, even then you
congratulate him for his victory. What falseness! If you were really such a
person, you would not have fought at all. When you were fighting you were the
enemy, and now you are defeated and you go and congratulate him. But deep down
there is jealousy, you are boiling, you would like to kill this man. You will
try - in the future, you will see!
But society needs etiquette.
Why does society need etiquette? - because everybody is so violent.
If there were no etiquette, we
would be at each other's throats continuously. Society has to create barriers.
You should not be allowed to be at each other's throats continuously, otherwise
life will be impossible.
But you are at each other's
throats continuously. Your etiquette, your culture, your civilized ways,
manners, are just to hide this fact. They don't allow a real civilization to
happen. A false thing - that's why every ten years a great war is needed in
which all etiquette, all manners, all morality are thrown away and you can run
at each other's throats without any guilt. Then killing becomes the game; the
more you murder, the greater you are. The more you are rude, the greater a
warrior you are.
And back in your country you
will be received as heroes; pad-mabhushan, mahavirchakra, the Victoria Cross
will be given to you. You will receive medals. For what are these medals given?
To become barbarous, to become
murderers; and because you have been a great murderer this medal is given to
you by your country. And we call these countries civilized - and murderers are
recognized, murderers are appreciated.... But only mass-murderers; individual
murder and you will be in jail, that cannot be allowed. Only sometimes, when
the whole society goes mad, that is war; everything is put aside, your real
nature is allowed. That's why everybody feels happy when there is a war. It
should be otherwise - nobody should feel happy when there is a war. But
everybody feels happy because now you are allowed to be animals. You always
wanted to be that. Your culture, your etiquette, your manners are just polished
ways to hide the animal behind.
This man said,
"So I held up two fingers
congratulating him on having two eyes. At this, the impolite wretch held up
three fingers to show that we had but three eyes between us."
Whatsoever you do, your wound
will come in. The other is saying, "The three jewels of Buddha," but
for you it is just the wound coming back. You tried to be polite, you tried not
to be rude, you even tried to congratulate. But you are you, your mind continues.
Now he is showing three
fingers. Again your mind comes in and says, "This wretch! He is saying
that we have three eyes between the two of us." Again he is showing that
you have one eye. Now this is too much. Now it is enough!
"So I got mad and threatened
to punch his nose - so he went."
He was mad from the very
beginning. Before they had ever met he was mad, because you cannot create
madness if it is not already there. You can only create things which are
already there, your creation is not out of nothing. It is only that an
unmanifested state becomes a manifested state.
Anger is there, you need not
create it. Somebody becomes the excuse - it comes up. You are not angry at him,
he is not the cause. You were carrying the anger - he has become the excuse.
Madness is inside; nobody can
make you mad if you are not mad already. But we always think that somebody
makes us angry, somebody makes us depressed, somebody makes us this and that.
Nobody makes you anything. Even
if you are left alone you will be mad, you will be angry. Even if the whole
world disappears there will be moments when you will be sad, there will be
moments when you will be happy, there will be moments when you will be angry,
there will be moments when you will be very forgiving - although there is
nobody.
It is your inner story that
unfolds. This is what a man of understanding comes to realize - that the whole
thing is an unfolding of me. You just give me the opportunity, the situation,
but the whole thing is an unfoldment of me.
A seed falls on the ground,
sprouts, a tree starts growing. The soil, the air, the rains, the sun, they are
all just giving the opportunity, but the tree was hidden in the seed. You carry
the whole tree of your unfoldment; everybody else becomes the opportunity. Whenever
anything happens don't look out, look within, because the thing, as it is
happening, is linked with your past, not with the person here.
I got mad and threatened to
punch his nose - so he went."
The elder brother laughed.
The elder brother could see both
standpoints. He could see that the learned wanderer never talked to this man,
never gestured to this man. He could see this stupid brother never understood
what was gestured. They remained untouched - an abyss was there, no bridge.
They debated, they concluded. One was defeated, one has become victorious, and
they never met - not for a single moment. He laughed.
This laughter can become
enlightenment. This laughter can become a profound understanding, a
transformation. If this laughter is not about the stupidity of this brother or
the stupidity of that wanderer, if this laughter is about the whole situation:
how the head functions, how two heads can never meet, how two pasts can never
meet, how two minds always remain separate - that there is no way for them to
meet and mingle with each other.... If he laughs at the whole situation, not at
this brother or at that learned wanderer - because if he laughs at this brother
or at that learned wanderer, this laughter cannot become enlightenment, he will
remain the same - but if he laughs at the whole situation: how the mind
functions, how the mind argues, how the mind goes on within itself, never
moving out, how the mind is always closed, it is never open, how the mind is
just an inner dream, a nightmare...
If he understands that, this
laughter will become a shattering. The pail, the whole pail will fall down, the
water will flow out - no water, no moon.
Enough for today.