Archive for October, 2006

The mind leads you astray

October 22, 2006

Mulla Nasruddin was eager to learn to swim. He found a teacher who said, “Come, I am going to the river.” As it happened, the Mulla slipped as soon as he stepped into the water. He fell over and almost drowned. Somehow he found his way to the bank, whereupon he got out of the water and ran away.
The teacher called out to him, “Where are you going? Don’t you want to learn how to swim?”
“First teach me how to swim,” said the Mulla, “and then I’ll get back into the river.”
“That’s almost impossible,” said the teacher. “Unless you get into the water you cannot learn.”
But the Mulla said, “Never again will I set foot in the river, at least not in this life.”
You also reason like Nasruddin, and your reasoning is correct. The Mulla will only step into the river if he knows how to swim, for was he not almost drowned? It was sheer good luck that he found himself alive!
One day Nasruddin was teaching his wife how to drive. He stood at the edge of the road, well away from his wife, who sat at the wheel of the car. He was shouting out instructions: “Press the clutch! Change gears!”
A friend watched him intrigued. He went up to him and asked, “Mulla, I have seen many people teach driving, but yours is a unique method! How can you teach someone from outside the car?”
The Mulla replied, “The car is insured; I am not.”
Logic always demands insurance; it wants a guarantee. The seed also demands a guarantee that it will become a tree, but how is one to assure the seed? Faith is invaluable. There is no way to assure you. Faith is a jump in the dark, therefore the faithful reach and the logical don’t. The mind misleads, leads you astray; the heart takes you all the way to the destination.
When you are in love you never listen to the mind. Even when you pray you cannot pray if you listen to the mind. If you listen to the mind its logic always seems one hundred percent correct, but the ultimate result is zero. The seed remains a seed; not only does it remain a seed but it begins to rot.
Ask yourself this question: “Is what I have real?” What does a seed possess? Don’t ask whether the tree will or will not be; instead ask the seed what it has that it is so afraid of losing. This is what faith always asks. Faith says: “What do I have that I fear losing?” There is nothing apart from anxiety, anguish and distress. Why be afraid of losing them? Is there any bliss, any joy in you, so that you are afraid you might lose it and be so much the poorer for it?

A president has force

October 21, 2006

Power and force never become one. Power is something that radiates from you. The source is within. Force is violent. Force is interference, a trespass on the freedom of others. But, ordinarily, people don’t make the distinction between the two words. They use them almost synonymously. Love is power, but not force. A president has force, but not power. Power never hurts anybody; it is always healing energy. It showers on you like flowers showering on you. It is a fragrance that reaches to you very silently, not even making any noise. It is for you to receive it or not to receive it. It does not force you to receive it. Power keeps your dignity intact — in fact, it enhances it. It makes you more individual, it allows you more freedom. It makes no conditions on you. Force is totally the opposite of power. Force is violence against the other. But these words became synonymous; there must be some reason why. It is because in life we experience power changing into force. For example, you love someone; that is power. But then you get married, you are a husband and she is a wife; it is a social contract, it is business. Now power disappears, force enters in. You will still use the same words, but they don’t mean the same. You will still say, “I love you,” but you know that these are only empty words. Yes, once they were alive, once they had immense content. Once there was juice in them — now everything is just dry. You have to say, “I love you.” It is not coming from your heart; it is coming from your head. The space has changed. You will still kiss your wife, but it will be just an exercise of the lips; behind the lips there is nobody. You may be far away, thinking of your secretary. Your wife may be far away, thinking of her boss. Now power, which was a radiance, a field of energy, has disappeared. Instead there is force. Love is gone; law has entered into life. Because of these changes of power into force, the words have become synonymous — even to the linguists, who should know better. The difference is very subtle. Force is always that of the sword. The sword may grow into nuclear weapons. Power is always of love. It can grow only into deep mysteries, unknown spaces. Ultimately, it can become a source of religion. It can open doors, to both the lovers, of something transcendental. It can help them to merge with the universe. In the moments of love when their powers meet, they are two bodies but not two souls. In those moments they start feeling a deep synchronicity with existence itself — with the grass, with the trees, with the birds, with the clouds, with the stars — something which only heart is capable of. It is not a question of reasoning, but of experiencing. So remember, power has some spirituality in it. Force is animal.

über das neue Jahrtausend

October 20, 2006

Esoterischer Müll im Briefkasten als eine schriftliche Warnung vor dem Ende der Welt! Es ist schon erstaunlich, was sich inzwischen in der esoterischen und vor allem an eine “Endzeit” glaubenden Esoterikszene tut. Nicht nur, dass wir in einer Zeit kurz vor dem Ende der Welt leben sollen bzw. diese Endzeit schon angebrochen ist (wir haben ja bereits das Jahr 2006), sondern die verschiedensten esoterischen und ufo(un)logischen Gruppen in Deutschland ebenso verschiedene Untergangsszenarien verbreiten. Doch nicht nur zahlreiche Bücher, die in den letzten Monaten und auch Jahren wie Pilze aus dem Buchmarkt sprießen belegen eine engstirnige Sichtweise über das neue Jahrtausend und die postulierten neuen “Weltordnungen”, sondern auch in den Medien verbreiten derartige Gruppen (z.B. Fiat Lux, Schweiz) phantasievoll erdachte Abläufe angeblicher Wandlungen oder Reinigungen der jetzigen Welt. Doch nun erstaunte eine neu und zugleich extrem dumme Variante der Verbreitung von sektiererischen Gedanken im Sinne der Endzeit und der biblischen Offenbarung: Ein esoterisch triefendes Schreiben, das ohne Absender den Empfänger darauf hinweisen will, dass die Welt untergehen wird. Dies beginnt am 1. Mai 2006!! Das heißt: es sollte, denn es geschah – nichts. Aber es sollte: Und zwar in der Form, dass in Spanien die Mutter Gottes erscheinen wird und dies “irgendwie” mit den bekannten Erscheinungen von Fátima, Portugal (1917), in Zusammenhang stehen soll. Selbstverständlich finden sich in dem fünfseitigen Schreiben mit dem Titel “Strafgericht Gottes” auch die sektentypischen Aussagen über Asteroideneinschläge, drei Tage “Finsternis”, die 114000 “Auserwählten”, Christus und all die bekannten Details mehr. Ganz besonders interessant ist die Tatsache, dass die jeweiligen Daten in dem maschinellen Schreiben per Hand eingefügt wurden. Beispielsweise der 31. August 2006, an dem Jesus erscheinen sollte. Ebenfalls interessant und von mit Sicherheit unfreiwilligen Humor durchzogen ist die letzte Seite, auf der der Mensch, der den Untergang überleben will, 31 Punkte mit Materialien findet, die er für die schlimme Zeit zu horten hat..
Many die too late and some die too early. Still the doctrine sounds strange: `Die at the right time.’ Die at the right time: Thus Zarathustra teaches. To be sure, he who never lived at the right time could hardly die at the right time! Better if he were never to be born! But even the superfluous make a great thing of their dying; yes, even the hollowest nut wants to be cracked. Everyone treats death as an important matter: but as yet death is not a festival. As yet, men have not learned to consecrate the fairest festivals.

the same routine

October 6, 2006

East and West have made different arrangements. In the East, for the first twenty-five years of life every child had to go through hardship. That was the principle followed for thousands of years until the West came and began dominating the East.
A child had to go to the master’s house in the jungle; he had to live through every possible hardship. Like a beggar he would sleep on a mat on the floor — there were no comforts. He would eat like a beggar; he would have to go to town and beg for the master, chop wood, and take the animals to the river to drink, to the forest to feed.
For twenty-five years he led the most simple, austere life whether he was born a king or a beggar — there was no difference. Even the emperor’s son had to follow the same routine, there was no distinction. And then when he came to know life in the world, life was so blissful.
If the East was so content, this was the trick, the arrangement, because whatsoever life gives it is always more than you started with. The child comes to live in a hut. To him it is a palace compared with lying on the ground without any shelter, crowded. He has an ordinary bed, and it is heavenly. Ordinary food, bread, butter and salt is paradise enough, because there was no butter at the master’s house. He is happy with whatsoever life gives.
Now, the Western pattern is the opposite. When you are a student every comfort is given to you. Hostels, beautiful universities, beautiful rooms, classrooms, teachers — every arrangement is made for your medical facilities, food, hygiene, everything is taken care of. And after twenty-five years of this you are thrown into the struggle of life. You have become a hot-house plant! — you don’t know what struggle is. Then you become a clerk in an office, a master in a primary school: life is hell. Then all your life you will be grunting, your whole life will be a long grump, complaining, complaining, everything is wrong. It is going to be so.
Then the evening is going to be cloudy. You will compare it with the past, with the morning. Emperor in the morning and a beggar in the evening…then the evening is going to be miserable. The evening should be the climax, not miserable.
A wise man never chooses, he lives choiceless because he knows that whatever happens the total is going to be the same. So whenever you are near a wise man let him make the arrangements, don’t insist on your own. To choose in the first place is wrong, and in the second place, whatsoever choice you make, it will be wrong. The mind only looks for immediate, instant happiness. It is not worried about what happens later on. It doesn’t know.

the world of reason

October 3, 2006

There is no god except this existence. God is intrinsic to life; God is not outside life. God is this very life. To live this life totally, is to live a divine life. To live this life partially, is to live an undivine life. To be partial is to be irreligious. To be total and whole is to be holy.
In the past, all over the world, people were pagans — simple nature-worshippers. There was no concept of sin; there was no question of guilt. Life was accepted as it is. There was no evaluation, no interpretation — reason had not interfered yet.
The moment reason starts interfering, condemnation comes. The moment reason enters in, division, split, starts and man becomes schizophrenic. Then you start condemning something in your being — one part becomes higher, another part becomes lower, and you lose balance.
But this had to happen; reason had to come, this is part of growth. As it happens to every child, it had to happen to the whole of humanity too. When the child is born he is a pagan; each child is a born pagan. He is happy the way he is. He has no idea what is right and what is wrong; he has no ideals. He has no criteria, he has no judgement. Hungry, he asks for food. Sleepy, he falls asleep. That’s what Zen masters say is the uttermost in religion — when hungry eat, when feeling sleepy go to sleep. Let life flow; don’t interfere.
Each child is born as a pagan, but sooner or later he will lose that simplicity. That is part; that has to happen, that is part of our growth, maturity, and destiny. The child has to lose it and find it again. When the child loses it he becomes the ordinary man, the worldly man. When he regains it he becomes religious.
The child’s innocence is very cheap; it is a gift from God. He has not earned it: he will have to lose it. Only by losing it will he become aware of what he has lost. Then he will start searching for it. And only when he searches for it, and earns it, achieves it, becomes it — then he will know the tremendous preciousness of it.
What happens to a saint? He becomes a child again; nothing else happens to a saint. He is again innocent. He went into the world of reason, division, ego, a thousand and one ideals; he became almost mad with evaluation. And then one day, finding it all just absurd, stupid, he drops it. But this second childhood is far more valuable than the first childhood. The first childhood was just given to you. You were not even asked, it was a pure gift. And we cannot value gifts. You value a thing only when you make effort for it, when you strive for it, and when it takes a long journey to come to it.