Osho –
Dhammapada: The Way of The Buddha (Volume 7)
Chapter 6. Don't
take enlightenment seriously
Question 1:
Beloved Master,
How did you become enlightened?
Prem Christo, one never becomes
enlightened - one is enlightened. One simply remembers it. It is not an
achievement, but only a recognition. You are as much enlightened as I am,
nothing is missing. You have not lost your god, it is impossible to lose him.
He is our very life; without him we cannot exist for a single moment.
So the question is not how to
find him. The question is how to become more alert, aware of that which already
is the case.
Enlightenment is not a process
of becoming, it is a discovery of being. You don't grow towards enlightenment;
hence it is never gradual - growth is gradual. It is an explosion - sudden,
instantaneous. It happens in a single moment... it can happen any moment.
You are only asleep, not
unenlightened. You have to be awakened. So remember it: never think in terms of
becoming. Becoming is desire, and desire is a hindrance, desire is a dream. If
you want to become enlightened you will never be enlightened. Don't make it a
goal, an object for desire, because all goals bring future in. And when the
future comes in you are in a turmoil. That is what your so-called unenlightenment
is.
When there is no goal there is
no future. When there is no desire, there is no possibility of dreaming. And
the moment dreaming stops, sleep disappears.
The state of that no sleep, no
desire, no dreaming, no goal, IS enlightenment. Suddenly you find yourself
utterly perfect. And one starts laughing, because one was searching for
something which was never lost; one was seeking something which one has already
been. How can you find that which you already are? It is impossible to find it.
That's why enlightenment seems to be such a difficult process - because it is
not a process at all, hence the difficulty.
The masters down the ages have
simply been devising methods to wake you up, to shake you up, into
enlightenment. They have used all kinds of methods, all kinds of devices. But
all those devices are arbitrary; they have no intrinsic value of their own.
Their value depends on the
master and his artfulness, his skill. If somebody else is going to try those
devices they won't work. It is not a science, it is an art, a knack.
The Zen master may slap you,
may throw you out of the door, may jump upon you and beat you, but it works
only in the hands of a Zen master. If YOU do it you will find yourself beaten,
that's all, or in jail. A Zen master has a totally different vision of life,
and slowly slowly, he creates a certain energy field around himself where the
device starts functioning. It cannot function anywhere else.
The Sufi master uses his own
devices, they were great device-makers. The most important Sufi tradition is
called Naqshbandi; Naqshbandi means
the designers, the devisors. And strange devices they have invented. For
example, Jalaluddin Rumi's Sufi dance, whirling, a very strange device. In his
hands it worked tremendously, because when you really whirl you become
disidentified with the body. That's why children enjoy whirling very much; they
feel a great upliftment.
But for that, certain
preparations are needed; certain food, certain patterns of sleep, certain
exercises have to precede it. Otherwise, if you start whirling suddenly, you
will simply feel nausea and nothing else; you may fall sick. No enlightenment
is going to happen through it. Everybody cannot do it. A preparation is needed
for the device to work, because the device is arbitrary, it is a hothouse
plant.
When the master is alive he
gives his life to his devices. The moment he is gone, only dead formulas are
left. And people go on repeating those formulas for centuries. All those
formulas appear stupid later on. In the hands of the master they had a golden
touch; without the master, without the awakened one, they are just empty
exercises.
Remember it: that the great
masters cannot be imitated. They are unique and they should not be imitated.
A diplomatic dinner was being
held at the embassy in Paris. Among the guests was an elderly dowager. She had
overindulged in food, as was her wont, and as a result belched loudly. In the
embarrassed silence that followed, an Englishman, seeing a countryman in
difficulty, gallantly pretended that he was the offender and apologized for the
faux pas profusely.
The difficult moment passed,
but not for long. Once again a hearty belch rose through the murmur of polite
conversation. This time a Frenchman, not to be outdone by the suave Englishman,
apologized for the offensive interruption and received admiring glances for his
quick thinking.
An American observing all this
determined not to be outdone and placed himself in the vicinity of the dowager
so that he could do honor to HIS country. Inevitably, the poor lady belched
again and the American cried out, "That's alright, lady, this one is on
me!"
Avoid imitation! That's what
has happened to all the great devices invented by the masters. People go on
imitating literally, not understanding the spirit - and the spirit is the real
thing to understand, not the letter.
Hindus go on repeating methods
invented by people like Patanjali, Manu, Yagnavalka.
Thousands of years have passed,
but the orthodox mind clings to the letter; it is afraid to change anything. And
without understanding the spirit of it, it goes on repeating like a parrot. And
situations go on changing.
Now Patanjali cannot be applied
to modern human beings exactly as he has taught to HIS disciples. Five thousand
years have passed, man is no longer the same. If you want to apply Patanjali
you will need another Patanjali to shift many things, to change many things, to
drop many things, to add many things. He will have to create the whole
methodology again, because man does not exist for any methods - all methods
exist for man.
No system is so valuable that
man can be sacrificed to the system; all systems have to serve man. If they
serve, good; if they become useless, out-of-date, irrelevant, they have to be
dropped - with deep reverence, with gratitude - they have done their work.
But the human mind is such, it
always loves the past. The more ancient a method is, the more it is loved. In
fact, the more useless it is: it can't change you, it can't help you to change.
Each time a new person becomes
aware of his innermost being, listen to him, and while he is alive be available
to him. It is going to be hard to be available to the alive master, because he
will not only be teaching you words, he will be cutting chunks of your being.
It hurts, because you have gathered so much unnecessary garbage around
yourself; it has to be cut, mercilessly cut. Only then can your essential being
be revealed in all its beauty.
A farmer gathered his sons
around him and demanded, "Which one of you boys pushed the outhouse into
the creek?"
The culprit did not step
forward. "Now, boys," said the farmer, "remember the story of
George Washington and the cherry tree. It is true that young George chopped
down that tree, but he told his father the truth and his father was proud of him."
Whereupon the farmer's youngest
son stepped forward and admitted that he had pushed the outhouse into the
creek. The farmer picked up a switch and proceeded to whip his son soundly.
"But Pa," protested
the boy tearfully, "you told me that George Washington's father was proud
of him when he confessed to chopping down the cherry tree."
"He was, son,"
replied the farmer, "but George Washington's father was not sitting in the
cherry tree when his son chopped it down!"
The situation has changed...
and you go on repeating old formulas. First watch the situation. Hence, methods
that have worked before are not going to work now.
Enlightenment is the most
simple thing, but because man is very complex - and as time passes man becomes
more and more complex - he will need more and more complex methods.
I must be the first enlightened
person who is using therapeutic groups as a help to meditation, for the simple
reason that in the past man was so simple there was no need for him to pass
through therapies first. He was healthy in a way, saner in a way, authentic,
truer, sincere and honest.
Modern man is cunning, very
cunning, and very repressed, so much so that he himself is not aware what he
has repressed in his being. And modern man is very clever, he is not simple. He
is so clever that he can go on deceiving even himself. By deceiving others
continuously he has become skillful in deceiving. The skill has become so
ingrained that now no conscious, deliberate effort is needed for him to be
cunning. He can simply be cunning without any effort on his own.
This changed situation demands
new methods, new approaches, new windows, so new that your mind is at a loss
what to do. If your mind knows what to do, the device cannot be of any help.
The mind, when it is unable to find a way out, is at a loss - that is the
great, precious moment when something of the beyond can happen.
A little old bearded Jew
accidentally brushed by a Nazi officer and knocked him off balance.
"Schwein!" roared the
German, clicking his heels.
"Solomon," said the
Jew, bowing politely. "Pleased to meet you."
You see the cunningness, the
cleverness!
Liddell walked into a Chinatown
tavern and said to the Oriental behind the bar, "Hey, Chink, give me a
drink!"
Ten minutes later Liddell
called out again, "Alright, Chink, give me a drink!"
A short time passed and once
again Liddell shouted, "Say, Chink, give me a drink!"
"Listen," said the
Chinese bartender, "I have held my temper, but you come behind the bar and
see how you like to be insulted."
The two men exchanged places.
"Okay," said the Oriental. "Now, you Nigger, give me a
jigger!"
"Sorry," said the
black, "we don't serve Chinks in here."
The modern man cannot be helped
by Patanjali or Moses. It will need a totally new approach.
That's exactly what I am doing
here. You need therapies so that much garbage can be thrown out of you. Therapy
is catharsis; it brings you face-to-face with your own unconscious. No old
method has ever been able to do it - it was not needed in the first place, it
was unnecessary. Sitting silently, doing nothing was enough. But now, if you
sit silently doing nothing, that is not going to help.
In the first place, you can't
sit silently - so much turmoil is inside. Yes, from the outside you can manage
to sit just like the Buddha, a marble statue, still, but deep down are you
still? The body can learn the trick of being still, but the mind is not so
easily overcome.
In fact, the more you force the
body to be still, the more the mind rebels against it, the more the mind will
try to pull you out of your so-called stillness. It takes the challenge and
explodes on you with a vengeance, and all kinds of thoughts, desires,
fantasies, erupt.
Sometimes one wonders where all
these things go when you don't meditate. The moment you sit for a few moments'
silence, all kinds of nonsense things start floating in your head, as if they
were just waiting; when you sit for meditation they will come.
It was not so in the past. The
primitive man was simple, the primitive man never needed anything like a Primal
Therapy group. He was already primitive! You have become so civilized that
first your civilization has to be taken out of you. That is the function of
Primal Therapy: it makes you again primitive, it brings you to the point of
innocence. No primitive man ever needed anything like Encounter; his whole life
was an encounter!
But now, when you want to hit,
you say hello and when you want to kill, you smile.
And not only is the other
deceived, you also believe that your smile is true. And people are so polite
that they tolerate you, they accept you, they don't look at what you are doing.
If you don't interfere with them they leave you alone. Everybody is living a
double life: the social life, which is formal, and the private life which is
just the opposite.
You will need some processes in
which you are brought to your authentic self so your duality is dropped, so
that you can for the first time see who you are. Your morality, your so-called
religions, they all teach you a kind of duality, they all make you pseudo.
They talk about truth, but that
is mere talk. They don't make you true, they make you polished, polite,
civilized. They teach you how to be formally good. They give you a beautiful
surface and they don't take any care of your inner being which is your real
you. And you tend to forget your real you.
Enlightenment is seeing your
real being. And you have become so accustomed and attached to the unreal. You
have to be hammered back into your reality.
I have devised dynamic, chaotic
methods just to give you again a glimpse of your pure childhood when you were
as yet uncontaminated, unpolluted, unpoisoned, unconditioned by the society;
when you were as you were born, when you were natural. The society molds you
into certain patterns. It destroys your freedom. It takes all other
alternatives from you; it forces a certain alternative to you. It forces and
pressures you in so many subtle ways that you have to choose it. Of course, it
also gives you the idea that you are choosing it.
I have heard:
When Ford started manufacturing
cars he had only one color, black. He would show his cars to the customers and
he would say, "You can choose any color, provided it is black!"
That's what people are doing to
their children. You can be anybody you like, provided you are a Hindu or a
Mohammedan or a Christian. Provided you behave like this, you are free, you are
absolutely free. They go on creating a facade of freedom and go on creating
simultaneously a deep slavery.
You need to be thrown back to
your reality. And sometimes even cruel methods are needed. Zen masters beating
their disciples: you can't say this is a very compassionate method. It is a
cruel method, but it is arising out of great compassion. And sometimes what
cannot be taught can be provoked by the master by slapping your face.
A man went into a store to buy
his wife a gift. When he received the package from the clerk he started to
leave, but then turned suddenly and slapped the clerk across the face.
No sooner had he done it than
the man began to apologize profusely. The clerk was naturally taken aback, but
he could not doubt the sincerity of the man's apologies.
"Perhaps," suggested
the sympathetic clerk, "you ought to see a psychiatrist."
A few months later the man
reappeared at the store. He made a purchase but made no attempt to do the clerk
any harm. "I took your advice, young man. I went to see a
psychiatrist."
"How did he cure
you?" inquired the clerk.
"Well," replied the
man, "right after I paid him for my first visit I slapped him in the
face."
"Then? Then what
happened?"
"He slapped me back."
You get it? And that cured him,
that was the treatment. That brought him back to his senses. Sometimes it is
needed, and only a cruel method can become a breakthrough.
A chaotic, a dynamic
meditation, is a very cruel method. It is not like sweet prayer, it is bitter,
but it can cleanse much dust off your being. It can bring great awakening to
you.
It can become your first
satori. Just a hundred-percent commitment is needed.
Christo, you ask me, "How
did you become enlightened?"
The first thing: I never became
enlightened. I had always been enlightened just as you are, just as everybody
is. All that happened is, I recognized it. And the journey was as arduous as
you can imagine. It was more arduous than it is for you, because I had no
master to guide, to indicate.
In India there are thousands of
pseudo teachers. Masters have disappeared long ago.
India has become so pseudo a
country that today there exists no other country which is as pseudo. India is
unique, incomparable! But this was going to happen for a certain reason, for a
certain historic inevitability it was going to happen.
India has produced Patanjali,
Gautam Buddha, Mahavira, Nagarjuna, Bodhidharma, great masters, and when you
produce great masters, naturally imitators arise. Imitators can arise only when
the real exists; when the real is not in existence you cannot have the false.
If there is real currency, then you can have false notes, but if there is no
real currency at all then you cannot have false notes. The false is possible
only because of the real.
And economists say that there
is a law: the false currency tends to put the real currency out of work. It
pushes the real currency out of its function. You can observe it, it is a
simple law. If you have two ten-rupee notes in your pocket, one real and one
false, first you will try the false because you want to get rid of it first -
the sooner the better. The real can be used any time, but the false, who knows?
Somebody may catch hold of you.
So you will be in a hurry to
push the false into circulation so it moves away from you and you are freed
from the burden. If all the people have false notes, they will hide the real
notes in their treasures and the false will become the currency.
And that's exactly what happens
in the world of spirituality too: the true masters become nonexistential,
nonfunctioning, and the untrue become leaders of men... for simple reasons. One
is that the true master will never fulfill your expectations; hence you will
like more to be with a false teacher because he will fulfill your expectations.
He will be more than willing. He wants to catch hold of you, he wants you to be
his disciple. He will be ready, very much ready, to fulfill your expectations
so that you don't leave him.
The true master lives according
to his light. You cannot expect anything from him.
Unless you are ready to drop
all your expectations you can't live with the true master.
The false master will always
buttress your ego. He will say, "You are great, you are virtuous." He
will give you small tricks to feel virtuous: "Go every Sunday to the
church and you will be virtuous, religious, spiritual." Now, just by going
to the church every Sunday do you think you become spiritual? Is spirituality
so cheap? But he will give you cheap things which you can easily purchase and
feel great.
With the true master, real work
has to be done. The real master works on you just like a sculptor, with the
chisel and hammer in his hand. He starts dismantling you, because that is the
only way to transform you, to give you a new birth. He starts killing you! A
real master is a death, because only after death is there a possibility of
resurrection.
I was without a master. I
stumbled in darkness on my own. It was hard work, it was maddening, because
nobody was there even to give me hope, any guarantee - even to give me just
simple sympathy that I am on the right track. I was moving into the uncharted
sea without anybody encouraging me.
You are far more fortunate. I
can tell you when you are right and when you are wrong. I can tell you,
"Go on, you are on the right track, the moment is not far away when things
will start changing; the spring is just on the way. Any moment it will be here.
In fact, the first flowers have started appearing. You may not be able to see
those first flowers. I can see."
Now in medical circles there is
great discussion and great hope that sooner or later we are going to find ways
in which a disease that is going to happen after six months can be predicted
beforehand. It has become possible through Kirlian photography. It gives the
photograph of your body energy, and it shows where the body energy is going
wrong. Six months before you may actually fall ill, Kirlian photography starts
giving you indications. If those indications can be well understood, you can be
treated before you are ill. Then you will never be ill.
A master can see flowers which
are going to happen to you after a few days, which are not yet visible to you
or to anybody else - but can be visible to the master. He can recognize the
signs, the invisible indications. He can decipher the language of the unknown
and the unknowable. He can tell you, "Go on!" Buddha says to his
disciples again and again, "Charaiveti!
Charaiveti! Go on! Go on! Don't be worried. I can see the dawn is not far
away."
You can only see that the night
is becoming darker and darker, but when the night is really dark, that is only
an indication that the dawn is very close, that soon on the eastern horizon the
sun will rise. But this can be seen only by one who has seen the sunrise
before.
I worked hard in every possible
way, but the day I came to know who I am was a great surprise. I had never
thought about it, that it was going to be so. God was never missed, I had only
forgotten the language. God was already there, always has been there; god is
our innermost nature. The day I recognized it I started laughing. That day I
knew that life is a great joke - god playing a great joke, a great game of
hide-and-seek; but a game all the same. Don't take it seriously.
Christo, don't take
enlightenment seriously. Take it playfully. And the more playful you are, the
closer you will be to it.
Question 2:
Beloved Master,
Do I ever see anybody or anything as they
really are?
Prem Shanta, mind is incapable
of seeing. Mind is blind - blind with a thousand and one prejudices, blind with
concepts, ideologies, philosophies, religions, blind with your past experience.
Your eyes are so much covered with dust, layer upon layer, that you can't see
that which is. And whatsoever you see is your interpretation of reality, not
reality itself. You never hear what is said to you, you never see what
confronts you. You see that which you want to see; you see that which you are
capable of seeing. And you hear that which you want to hear; you hear that
which you already believe in.
Your mind continuously goes on
screening; it allows only that which fits with it, it does not allow anything
in which does not fit with it. It is on a constant vigilance; it guards.
I am talking to you here: three
thousand people, that means three thousand meanings!
When I am saying anything I am
saying it with one particular meaning, but when it reaches to you it takes an
individual color - you give it your own color. Immediately it is something
else. Unless you learn how to listen without the mind, how to see without the
mind...
That's what meditation is all
about: putting the mind aside, seeing without any prejudice, without any a
priori conclusion, without any conclusion at all. When your eyes are functioning
just like mirrors, simply reflecting that which is, neither condemning it nor
appreciating it... when your eyes are nonjudgmental, when you don't say,
"This is good, this is bad. This should be, this should not be" -
when you don't say anything, you simply reflect... then you see that which is -
otherwise not, ordinarily not.
You have to disappear to see
the reality as it is. If you are there, the more you are there, the less you
see the real.
A number of showgirls were
entertaining troops at a remote army camp. They had been at it all afternoon
and were tired and very hungry. At the close of their performance, the major
asked, "Would you girls like to mess with the enlisted men or the officers
this evening?"
"It really doesn't
matter," spoke up a shapely blonde, "but we've just got to have
something to eat first."
Preoccupied mind! They are
hungry, the hunger is too much there. Now everything they hear they will hear
through this hunger.
Fast one day and then go to
M.G. Road, and you will see only restaurants, hotels, and you will not see
anything else. And for the first time you will start smelling food smells
coming from the restaurants and hotels. And you have passed the same road many
times, but you have never smelled so intensely. Fast two, three days and your
nose becomes so sensitive to food odors, to the aroma of food, that you will be
surprised - your nose has never been so sensitive.
If you are hungry and you look
at the full moon, you may see just a chapati! It is impossible to see the full
moon.
The Jewish lady and her son
were walking along the beach when a tidal wave crashed on them. When the water
receded the boy was gone.
"Ah Merciful Father,"
the mother pleaded. "Please return my beautiful child. I will be so
grateful - I will never cheat on my income tax or my husband again, I will stop
smoking, I will do anything - anything!"
Just then another wave loomed
up and her small son was standing there. She clasped him to her bosom, looked
at him a moment and once again turned her eyes heavenward.
Looking up she said, "But
he had a hat!"
Now, the Jewish mind... she
can't forget the hat! The son is back - so what! Where is the hat?
Everybody has a certain mind.
All minds are your choices. When you look without the mind you look without any
choice. Then you are choicelessly aware. That's the real way to see things as
they are.
Shanta, ordinarily you don't
see the real existence, you only project your ideas. That's why you go on
missing the great beauty that surrounds you, the splendor that is all over. You
cannot see god, not because he is absent but because your mind is so full of
ideas ABOUT god - Christian ideas about god, Hindu ideas about god, Jewish
ideas about god. You can't see god if you go on carrying these ideas.
God is a simple reflection; it
is not a philosophy, it is not ideology. Knowingly, unknowingly, we are all
full of ideologies - political, religious, social - and we go on looking
through them.
A politician was bitten by a
dog, and a few days later his doctor told him that the lab tests were positive,
that the dog had rabies, and that he too was infected.
The politician pulled out a
notebook and began writing furiously.
"Now, take it easy,"
said the doctor. "No need to start writing your will. You will pull
through."
"Will, hell!" snapped
the politician. "This is a list of the people I am going to bite."
Now before he forgets, before
he really goes insane, he wants to make a list. A politician is a politician,
even if he is on the verge of going mad! He must be making the list of all his
political enemies. He is not much concerned about his own problem - he wants to
use his problem to create problems for others. He is much more concerned about
who he is going to bite; he wants to be ready for that. That is the basic
political mind: the political mind is not interested in himself; it is more
interested in harming others, how to topple others, how to destroy others.
The religious person is much
more interested in his own joy. The politician is much more interested in
seeing others miserable; his joy is only in seeing others miserable.
Now, such a mind is incapable
of seeing anything good in life - impossible. He can't see any beauty, he can't
see any grace. He has none, how can he see it? You can see only that which you
are.
And if you want to see that
which is, then you have to disappear completely. You have to be utterly empty,
a nobody, a no-mind, just an empty space. Then life bursts forth with all its
splendor.
Question 3:
Beloved Master,
I am unable to understand why gautama the
buddha renounced his beautiful wife.
Kamalesh, it seems you must be
a bachelor!
Murphy's definition of a
bachelor: A rolling stone who gathers no boss.
Murphy's definition of
marriage: A man is incomplete until he is married; then he is really finished.
You don't understand what poor
Buddha suffered! Only married people know it, but very few married people have
the courage to say it.
I have heard an anecdote:
Maxim Gorky, Anton Chekhov and
Leo Tolstoy, the three great Russian novelists, were sitting on a bench in a
park and chitchatting. Naturally they started talking about the phenomenon
called woman.
Chekhov was very bitter; he was
abusing women like anything. Gorky was also not in any way sympathetic.
When they both were finished
they asked Tolstoy, who was keeping quiet. Tolstoy said, "If you really
want to hear the truth you will have to wait."
They said, "What do you
mean by 'You will have to wait'? How long?"
He said, "I can't say how
long, but you will have to wait. I can say the truth only when one of my legs
is in the grave. I will say the truth and jump into the grave! Then I don't
want to be outside the grave, because if my wife comes to know about it then my
life, which is already hell... I don't know what will happen to me!"
And remember, the same is the
case with women: if you ask them, they will tell the same stories about the
husbands.
There is an ancient Arabic
saying:
The gods gave man fire, and he
invented fire engines. They gave him love, and he invented marriage.
Marriage, up to now, has been
such a suffering! It is because of marriage that monasteries have existed - the
whole credit goes to marriage! Otherwise there would be no monks and no nuns.
It is seeing the ugliness of marriage, millions of people simply decided never
to get into it, or even those who had already got into it escaped.
The woman has suffered much,
but her suffering has been of a different quality: she has suffered because her
freedom has been taken away from her. Man has dominated her, made her a slave.
Man has also suffered... because remember one simple law of life: If you make
others suffer, the suffering is bound to rebound on you. Man made the woman a
slave, physically... and the woman? She made the man a slave spiritually. In
fact, man's suffering has been much deeper than the woman's suffering.
There is now the Women's
Liberation movement. Some daring men are needed to start a Men's Liberation
movement, because man's slavery became spiritual - and spiritual slavery is far
more dangerous.
Murphy's definition of cooperation:
An exchange between a woman and a man in which she coos and he operates.
Kamalesh, you seem to be
absolutely unaware of the phenomenon of marriage - which is destructive to both
man and woman. Love is creative, marriage is destructive. But love is not
dependable: this moment it may be there and the next moment gone. And man wants
permanent things; he is obsessed with permanent things. He wants security,
safety, he wants to cling. Hence love is not reliable, so he created marriage.
Marriage is a plastic flower.
Love is a real rose, but the real rose is beautiful in the morning; by the
evening it is gone. Nobody can say when it will disappear, when the petals will
start falling. Just a strong wind and it is no more, just a strong sun and it
is no more. But the plastic flower will be there; come rain, come sun, come
anything, the plastic flower will be there. In fact, plastic is the only
permanent thing in the world.
Now ecologists are very much
worried about plastic because you cannot destroy it. You go on throwing plastic
bottles and containers and they all go on accumulating in the earth or in the
sea. Sooner or later they will surround the whole earth and they will destroy
the fertility of the earth, because they cannot melt, merge, become one with the
earth.
The real flower goes back to
the earth, becomes earth again. Then again a new flower will arise. But the
plastic flower sticks, remains forever. It is dangerous; it is a hindrance in
the circulation of life processes.
Marriage is a plastic flower - marriage
is an institution. And who wants to live in an institution?
If Buddha escaped, you should
not be worried; it is understandable. He must have suffered!
"Daddy, what is
polygamy?"
"Polygamy is a situation
in which a man can have more than one wife."
"Okay. So what do you call
a situation in which a man can have only one wife?"
"Monotony, my son,
monotony."
Marriage is monotonous, it is
utter boredom. Two persons are just hooked with each other.
Buddha was courageous - at
least he escaped. Not much of a courage, but some courage still is there: he
escaped.
I am teaching my sannyasins a
far more courageous way: don't escape, but try to live in love. And start
forgetting the whole idea of marriage - slowly slowly.
A recently divorced man was
feeling so depressed he decided to consult a psychiatrist.
The doctor listened to his
complaints and then had this to recommend, "I think you ought to get
married again, Mr. Jones... Buy a house, have some kids; live like other men.
You will be back to your old self in no time."
"No thanks, Doc,"
said Mr. Jones. "I would rather commit suicide."
Once you have known the
ugliness of marriage there are only two possible ways. One is, escape from it
like Buddha, which I don't approve of because that doesn't change much. Yes, it
helps Buddha - he gets out of it - but the world continues the same.
My own suggestion is, drop the
very concept of marriage - live in love. And if love continues, good; if it
disappears, good. What is the harm in it? Anything that appears one day is bound
to disappear one day; that's how things are - the way of things, the natural
way. Allow it. Don't cling, don't be possessive. Live passionately while it is
there, and when it is gone it is gone. Feel grateful for all that it has done
to you. Say goodbye. Don't complain, don't have any grudge.
The newspaper account of
George's tragic death read: "His friends could give no reason why he
should have committed suicide. He was a bachelor."
Kamalesh, you must be a
bachelor! One thing is good about being a bachelor: you will not commit
suicide. And if you commit suicide you will leave everybody in a puzzle.
Nobody will be able to figure
out why. You are not yet experienced about this so-called relationship
business. You seem to be utterly inexperienced. Hence you say, "I am
unable to understand why Gautama the Buddha renounced his beautiful wife."
Certainly he had a very
beautiful wife, but beauty of the body is so superficial that within a week you
start not looking at it. You start ignoring it, you start forgetting it.
Ask any husband for how many
years he has not looked at his wife's face - and he used to think before that
she is a beautiful woman. Ask any wife how long she has not looked at her
husband's face. Years may have passed.
Do a small experiment: close
your eyes and try to remember your wife's or your husband's face. You will not
be able to remember it. You may be able to remember the face of your neighbor's
wife, but not your own wife; it is almost impossible. If you can do it you are
a rare specimen, you are a wonder! It does not happen. If you try to remember
your wife's face, everything will go dizzy. Thousands of other faces will
appear, but not your wife's face. Why?
You have not looked at the poor
woman for years, for the simple reason that marriage makes things so certain.
Marriage makes things so dead and dull. Marriage takes all surprise and wonder
away. Marriage makes you take your wife for granted, your husband for granted.
What is the need to look at your wife? She will be there tomorrow and the day
after tomorrow and forever. You look at people when you know you may not be
able to look at them again. Marriage kills; it makes something tremendously
beautiful very ugly.
Yes, Buddha had a beautiful
wife, but then he became tired - tired of the whole repetitive game. He was a
very alert man, intelligent. If he was as stupid as millions of others are he
would have lived without any effort to go through a radical change. He would
have simply repeated the whole circle of life - eating, drinking, reproducing -
he would have lived and died. But he became aware that life can't be only this
repetition. Life must be something more, life has to be something more. There
must be some hidden secret in it which we are missing because of our
repetitiveness.
He escaped not exactly from the
wife: he escaped to know the truth of life. It was not basically escaping from
the wife; it was not an escape FROM but an escape FOR. That's why, when he
attained the truth, the first thing he did was to come back to the palace to
share his new vision, his insight, with his wife. He remembered her.
He felt that this much he owed
to her. He had come to ask her forgiveness because he had escaped, left her. He
had not even asked her permission. He had not even told her that he was going
away. He escaped like a thief and had come back to apologize. A man of great
grace: even after becoming enlightened he came to apologize to somebody who is
not enlightened.
His disciple, Ananda, said to
him. "This does not look right, an enlightened person going to the
unenlightened to apologize, to ask her, 'Forgive me.'" Buddha said,
"I know it does not look right, but this much I owe to her. I have to
complete, finish things; otherwise something remains hanging. And more than
that, my going to her will help her to come to me; otherwise - she is a very
proud woman - she will not come to me. And she will go on carrying that grudge,
that wound; she will suffer unnecessarily. And what I have found I am going to
share with everybody, why not with my wife? What wrong has she done to
me?"
He went to his wife. The wife
was very angry, naturally. She shouted, screamed; she did all that a woman will
do in such a situation. And Buddha stood there utterly silent, not even
uttering a single word. Then suddenly she became aware that he has not said a
single word. She wiped her tears, looked at Buddha, saw that he is so silent
and so beautiful, and a totally different kind of beauty: the beauty of the
inner. He is radiating, he is luminous.
She asked him, "Why are
you not answering me?"
Buddha said, "How can I
answer? I am no longer the same person that had left you. You look at me, you
observe! Look into my eyes, feel my presence! I am not the same person - that
person is dead. I am a totally new being, I am reborn! And I have come to share
my joy, my finding, with you, because I love you. And the old love was not
love, it was exploitation; this new love is really love. The old love was just
lust. Now I want to give all that I have known to you, for no other reason, but
just for giving's sake. Just sharing will make me so blissful. If I can help
you in any way I will feel tremendously obliged."
The wife became a sannyasin;
she was initiated.
You ask me, Kamalesh, "I
am unable to understand why Gautama the Buddha renounced his beautiful
wife."
In fact he has not renounced
the wife: he has renounced the whole marriage system, he has renounced the old
way of life. The wife was just a part of it. He renounced the way he had lived
up to that moment.
When he left his palace he was
twenty-nine years old; when he came back, twelve years had passed... he had
become enlightened. He had come to know the truth, the meaning, the
significance, of existence. He had come to know the great celebration that goes
on and on: the celebration you call God. He had come to share his celebration
with his wife, with his child, with his father, with his stepmother, with his
friends. Whosoever was ready, he was ready to give to them. And he transformed
their lives.
Gautama the Buddha is the only
man in the whole history of human consciousness who has transformed so many
people. The debt of humanity is immense, unpayable.
Question 4:
Beloved Master,
When you say, "wake up, be conscious,
come out of your dreams!" - and to make it clear you give examples -
instead of going deeply into it we laugh as if it is a joke. How do you feel?
Abhinav Bharti, I also laugh!
But I am not allowed to laugh loudly in front of you, because that is against
the art of telling jokes. The joke teller must be serious. But I laugh in my
room! When there is nobody, I have a hearty laugh. And in fact, this whole
thing is a joke: your misery, my enlightenment.
Enough for today.