Once it happened, I was in the mountains with a few friends. We went to see a point known as the echo point; it was a beautiful spot, very silent, surrounded by hills. One of the friends started barking like a dog. All the hills echoed it -- the whole place appeared as if full of thousands of dogs. Then, somebody else started chanting a Buddhist mantra: "Sabbe sanghar anichcha. Sabbe dhamma anatta. Gate, gate, para gate, para sangate. Bodhi swaha." The hills became Buddhist; they reechoed it. The mantra means: "All is impermanent, nothing is permanent; all is flux, nothing is substantial. Everything is without a self. Gone, gone, finally gone, everything gone -- the word, the knowledge, the enlightenment too."
I told the friends who were with me that life is also like this echo point: you bark at it, it barks at you; you chant a beautiful mantra, life becomes a reflection of that beautiful chanting. A life is a mirror. Millions of mirrors around you -- every face is a mirror; every rock is a mirror; every cloud is a mirror. All relationships are mirrors. In whatsoever way you are related with life, it reflects you. Don't be angry at life if it starts barking at you. You must have started the chain. You must have done something in the beginning to cause it. Don't try to change life; just change yourself, and life changes.
These are the two standpoints: one I call the communistic which says, "Change life, only then can you be happy"; the other I call religious which says, "Change yourself, and life suddenly becomes beautiful." There is no need to change the society, the world. If you move in that direction you are moving in a false direction which will not lead you anywhere. In the first place, you cannot change it -- it is so vast. It is simply impossible. It is so complex and you are here only for a while; and life is very ancient and life is going to be for ever and ever. You are just a guest; an overnight stay and you are gone: gate, gate -- gone, gone forever.
How can you imagine to change it?
Sheer stupidity, which says life can be changed, but there is much appeal in it.
The communistic standpoint has a deep appeal in it. Not because it is true -- the appeal comes from some other source: because it does not make you responsible, that is the appeal. Everything else is responsible except you; you are a victim.
"The whole of life is responsible. Change life" -- this is appealing for the ordinary mind because no mind wants to feel responsible.
Whenever you are in misery you like to throw the responsibility on somebody.
Anybody will do, any excuse will do, but then you are unburdened. Now you know you are miserable because of this man or that woman, or this type of society, this government, this social structure, this economy -- something -- or, finally, God is responsible or fate. These are all communistic standpoints. The moment you throw the responsibility on others, you have become a communist; you are no longer religious.
Even if you throw the responsibility on God, you have become a communist. Try to understand me, because communists don't believe in God, but the whole standpoint of throwing responsibility on somebody else is communistic -- then God has to be changed.
That's what people go on doing in temples: they go and pray to change God.
Those people are all communists. They may be hiding in religious garbs; they are communist. What are you praying? You are saying to God, "Do this, don't do that"; "My wife is ill, make her healthy." You are telling the whole, "You are responsible." You are complaining; deep down your prayer is a complaint. You may be talking very politely, but your politeness is false. You may even be buttering him up, but deep down you are saying, "You are responsible -- do something!"
This attitude I call the communist attitude; by it I mean the attitude that "I am not responsible; I am a victim. The whole of life is responsible." The religious attitude says, "Life simply reflects."
Life is not a doer; it is a mirror. It is not doing anything to you, because the same life behaves with Buddha in a different way. The life is the same; it behaves with you in a different way. The mirror is the same, but when you come before the mirror it reflects your face. And if your face is not that of a Buddha, what can the mirror do? When Buddha comes before the mirror, it reflects Buddhahood.
When I say this to you I say so because that's how I have experienced. Once your face changes, the mirror changes; because a mirror has no fixed standpoint. The mirror is just echoing, reflecting. It does not say anything. It simply shows -- it shows you. If life is miserable you must have started the chain. If everybody is against you, you must have started the chain. If everybody feels enmity, you must have started the chain.
Change the cause. And you are the cause. Religion makes you responsible -- and that's how religion makes you free because then it is your freedom to choose. To be miserable or to be happy -- it is up to you. Nobody else has anything to do with it. The world will remain the same; you can start dancing, and the whole world dances with you.
They say when you cry you cry alone, when you laugh the whole world laughs with you. No, that is also not true. When you cry the whole world reflects that; when you laugh then too the whole world reflects that. When you cry the whole world feels like crying. When you are sad, look at the moon -- the moon looks sad; look at the stars -- they look like very great pessimists; look at the river -- it doesn't seem to flow, gloomy, dark. When you are happy then look at the same moon -- it is smiling; and the same stars -- dancing; and the same river -- flowing with a song, all gloom has disappeared.
There are no hells and no heavens. When you have a heaven within you, this world.... And this is the only world there is! Remember, there is no other. When you are filled with heaven within, the world reflects it. When you are filled with hell, the world can't help, it reflects it.
If you feel responsible yourself, you have started moving in a religious direction.
Religion believes in individual revolution. There is no other -- all others are false, pseudo-revolutions. They look like they are changing; they change nothing. They create much fuss about changing -- nothing changes. It is not possible to change anything unless you have changed.
These are the sutras about this responsibility: individual responsibility. In the beginning you will feel a little burdened: that "I am responsible," and you cannot throw the burden on anybody else. But know well, if you are responsible, then there is hope; you can do something. If others are responsible then there is no hope, because what can you do? You may be meditating, but others are creating trouble; you will suffer. You may become a Buddha, but the whole world remains a hell. You will suffer. In the beginning every freedom is felt as a burden -- that's why people are afraid of freedom.
Erich Fromm has written a beautiful book, THE FEAR OF FREEDOM. I love the title. Why are people so much afraid of freedom? One should think otherwise; they should not be afraid of freedom. On the contrary, we think everybody wants freedom, but this is my observation also: deep down nobody wants freedom -- because freedom is a great responsibility. Then only you are responsible. Then you cannot throw responsibility on somebody else's shoulders.
Then you don't have any consolation -- if you suffer you suffer for your own causes, for your own self; you have caused it.
But through that burden opens a new door: you can throw it. If I have been causing my miseries I can drop causing them. I have been pedalling the cycle and I am feeling miserable on the cycle and I am tired, and I go on saying, "Stop it," and I go on pedalling.... It is for me to stop pedalling, and the cycle stops.
Nobody else is pedalling it.
This is the deepest meaning of the theory of karma: that you are responsible.
Once you understand it deeply, that "I am responsible," already half the work is done. In fact, the moment you realize, "I have been responsible for all that I have been suffering or enjoying," you have become free, free from the society, free from the world. Now you can choose your own world to live in. This is the only world! -- remember. But you can choose now. You can dance, and the whole dances with you.
These sutras of Patanjali are very significant.
Many things are implied. First, in India we have never used the word "love." We always use "nonviolence" -- "ahimsa" pratishthayam. Jesus uses "love"; Mahavir, Patanjali, Buddha, they never use "love" -- they use "nonviolence." Why? "Love" seems to be a better word, more positive, more poetic. "Nonviolence" looks like an ugly word, negative. But there is something to it. When you say "love," you have moved in a subtle aggression. When I say, "I love you," I have moved from my center towards you. The aggression is beautiful, but it is aggression. Patanjali says "nonviolence." It is a negative state, a passive state: I only say, "I won't hurt you," that's all.
Love says, "I will make you happy" -- which is impossible. Who can make anybody happy? Love promises. All promises are false. How can you make anybody happy? If everybody is responsible for his own self, how is it possible even to think that you can make somebody be happy? When I say, "I love you," I am creating so many promises, I am showing you so many beautiful gardens... I am calling you towards dreams. No, Patanjali will not use the word, because deep down I am saying, "I will make you happy. Come near me; come close to me. I am ready to make you happy" -- which is impossible. Nobody can make anybody happy. At the most I can say, "I will not hurt you." That is for me, not to hurt, but how can I say, "I will make you happy"?
That's why all love leads to frustration. Lovers promise each other -- knowingly, unknowingly -- beautiful roses, paradise; and each one thinking about the promise -- and then it is never fulfilled. Nobody can make you happy -- except yourself. If you fall in love: the man is thinking the woman is going to give him a beautiful life, an enchanted, a magical world; and the woman is also thinking that the man is going to lead her towards the last paradise. Nobody can lead anybody. That's why lovers feel frustrated: the promise was false. Not that they were deceiving each other, they were deceived themselves. Not that they were deliberately deceiving each other, they didn't know. They were not aware what they were saying.
Mahavir, Buddha, Patanjali, they use an ugly word: nonviolence, ahimsa. Does not look good, is simply negative -- it says "no violence," that's all. "I will not hurt you" -- that much can be fulfilled. Even then, there is no absolute guarantee that you will not feel hurt. "I will not hurt you," that's all; then too there is no absolute necessity that you will not feel hurt. Still you can feel hurt because you create your own wounds, you create your own misery. "I will not be a party to it," that's all Patanjali can say -- "I will not participate in it. I will not hurt you."
"When the yogi is firmly established..." in this attitude of nonviolence, that he will not hurt anybody, "... there is an abandonment of enmity by those who are in his presence." Such a man, who is not in any way thinking, dreaming consciously, unconsciously, has no desire to hurt anybody -- in his presence, abandonment of enmity happens. But before you conclude it, many more problems arise.
Jesus was crucified; enmity was not abandoned. That's why if you ask Jains they will not say that he was enlightened, because people could crucify him. But the same has happened to Mahavir. After his enlightenment he was stoned. To Buddha the same has happened -- not crucified, but stoned, insulted. People tried to kill him. Then how to understand it? Jains, Buddhists, they have explanations. If it is a question of Jesus, they will say he is not enlightened -- simple explanation, finished -- but if it is a question of Mahavir they say that he is closing his accounts of his past lives. Both are wrong. Both are wrong because when one becomes enlightened he has closed all accounts. He has finished all karmas; now nothing is there.
Still, there have been cases: Jesus has been crucified; Socrates poisoned; Al-hillaj Mansoor killed, murdered very brutally; Mahavir stoned many times, insulted, thrown out of villages; Buddha, many times murder was attempted. Then how to explain Patanjali's sutra? If the sutra is true then these things should not happen.
If these things happen then there are only two possibilities: either all these persons -- Al-hillaj Mansoor, Jesus, Mahavir, Buddha -- are not enlightened, are not really established in nonviolence, or there are some exceptions to the rule.
There are a few exceptions.
In fact whenever a man is established in nonviolence, life -- except human beings -- becomes absolutely nonviolent towards him. Man is a perverted being. The mirror is not clear. Life... trees are nonviolent towards a Buddha, animals are nonviolent.
It happened that one of Buddha's cousin-brothers, who was in deep competition with him -- unnecessarily, because a Buddha is nobody's competitor -- was continuously thinking, "Buddha has become so great a man, and I am left behind.
I am nobody." He tried in every way to gather disciples and declare himself, that he is a Buddha, but nobody would listen to him. Of course, a few fools gathered.
Then he became very antagonistic towards Buddha; he tried to kill him.
It is said Buddha was meditating under a tree near a hill, and Devadutta, Buddha's cousin-brother, rolled a big rock from the hill. There was every possibility that Buddha would have been crushed, but somehow the rock changed its path. Buddha remained untouched. Somebody asked, "What happened?" Buddha said, "A rock feels more than does Devadutta, my brother.
She changed the route."
A mad elephant was released against Buddha by Devadutta. The elephant was mad; he rushed. Disciples escaped, they forgot completely, and Buddha remained silent sitting under the tree. The elephant came near... something happened -- he bowed down at Buddha's feet. People asked, "What happened?"
He said, "A mad elephant, also, is not so mad as Devadutta. Even this mad elephant has some sanity left in him."
One of the greatest psychologists working and doing deep research on the human brain is Delgado. He has tried an experiment with electrodes. Something like that must have happened when the elephant stopped and bowed down.
Delgado placed electrodes in the brain of a bull. Those electrodes could be manipulated from anywhere by radio, wireless. Then, he pushed the button; thousands of people had gathered to see. He pushed the button and pressed the center in the brain from where anger arises: the bull became angry and mad. He came in a rage; he rushed towards Delgado. People stopped breathing, because this was certain death. Just a foot away, Delgado pushed another button, and suddenly something happened inside and the bull stopped -- just a foot away, death just a foot away.
Delgado has done it with electric instruments, but the same is the possibility: Buddha has not done anything, but it happened -- a deep nonviolence, and something triggered in the brain of the elephant. He was no longer mad; he understood. He felt; he bowed down.
Humanity is no longer a right mirror. Humanity is not so pure as echoing hills.
Humanity is perverted, so it is possible. I don't find any explanation in past lives.
I don't find any explanation in denying that Jesus was an enlightened man, no.
The explanation is this: that life can reflect only when life is alive. Man has become so dead. You don't feel. Even you, if you come to meet a Buddha -- you don't feel much. You say he is just a man as any other. Of course the bones are the same and the skin the same and the body the same -- the boundary is the same -- but who is in the boundary, that flame?
But you can feel it only if you have felt it already within yourself. Otherwise how can you feel it? You can recognize a Buddha only when you have recognized a certain quality of Buddhahood in you; from there is the bridge. If you have not realized any Buddhahood within you, any divineness in you, it is impossible for you to recognize a Buddha, to recognize his nonviolence, to recognize that he has transcended, he is no longer part of your madness.
That's why Mahavir was stoned: by humans who had gone completely perverted. A natural law didn't function with them; otherwise the law is absolutely perfect. If you are silent and you come near a Buddha, suddenly you will feel a great change happening within you. You cannot feel enmity.
That's why there is a fear of coming near a Buddha. You can feel enmity when you are far away from him. If you come face to face with him it becomes difficult, more and more difficult. If you are in his presence, even if you are mad, the possibility exists that his presence may work as a magnetic force; the possibility exists that even you in all your madness may be changed and transformed.
That's why people have always been avoiding Buddhas -- Mahavir, Patanjali, Jesus, Lao Tzu. They don't come near them. They gather things about them in the marketplace and they start believing in rumors, but they won't come near. They won't come to see what has happened.
And by the time they come they have gathered so much rubbish, so much rot around them, that they are already dead. They have so many fixed attitudes that their mirror functions no more. Their mirror is covered with dust. Of course a mirror mirrors, but if it is covered with dust then you can go on looking and your face will not be reflected.
Animals, trees, birds, even they have understood. It is said that when Buddha became enlightened flowers bloomed out of season. And it has not happened only with Buddha; it has happened many times. It is not a myth. The trees became so happy.... That's why Buddhists have been preserving the tree, the Bodhi Tree, under which Buddha became enlightened. It carries something -- it has witnessed one of the greatest happenings in the world. It is the only witness left. It carries the real history, what happened in that night when Buddha became enlightened.
Now scientists say that the bodhi tree is the most intelligent tree in the world. It has some chemicals which are absolutely necessary for intelligence, without which the mind cannot be intelligent. Other trees are there, but nothing like the bodhi tree, the bo tree. It has the greatest quantity of those chemicals which make the mind intelligent. Maybe it is the most intelligent tree in the world. It has
witnessed Buddha flowering into a different dimension. It has known one of the greatest peak hours of the whole of existence.
But man's mirror is covered with dust -- dust of beliefs, ideologies.
Just two, three days before, a family took sannyas. The small boy of the family also took sannyas. I gave him one of the very beautiful names, Swami Krishna Bharti, but he said, "No. This name is girlish." Krishna: the family is Jain; they don't feel for Krishna. The name looks girlish. Krishna must look girlish to all the Jains -- the way of his clothing, dancing, the face, the long hair. It is good he was born in olden days. If he was born now any government would have cut his hair.
He would have looked like a hippy with long hair and with flute. The boy said, "The name is girlish. Give me something else, some other name."
If a Jain comes to meet Krishna, he won't realize. If a Hindu comes to see Mahavir, he won't recognize. Beliefs are dust gathered around -- you cannot see rightly; your vision is lost. If you are a Mohammedan you cannot read the Geeta.
If you are a Hindu you cannot read the Koran -- impossible -- because your Hinduism will always be coming in between. Even Gandhi who used to say that all religions are the same has chosen passages from the Koran which are absolute translations -- look like translations -- of the Geeta; other passages he has left. He has read the Geeta and the Koran and chosen those passages which can fit with his ideology, and then he says everything is okay. But real passages which go against the Geeta, that make the Koran a Koran -- those are left out.
Mind, with beliefs, ideas, concepts, systems, philosophies, is a paralyzed mind -- no longer free to move, too much fettered, too much in bondage, a slave. And to look at a Buddha you need freedom -- a mind moving absolutely in freedom, with no bondage, no prejudice, with no beliefs around it.
The sutra is perfect: "When the yogi is firmly established in nonviolence, there is an abandonment of enmity by those who are in his presence." Suddenly, a love arises... for no visible cause. Just his presence functions, just the way he is -- you move under his energy field, and you are no longer the same.
That's why before such people masses have always felt that they somehow hypnotize. Nobody is hypnotizing you, but hypnosis happens. Their very quality of being is soothing. Their very quality of being silences you; your inner talk stops in their presence. You don't feel yourself; you feel somehow changed.
When you go back home, again you are the same, the old one. Then you look back retrospectively and you feel you were hypnotized, or what? Nobody is hypnotizing, but this has always been -- that Buddha hypnotizes, that Jesus hypnotizes. Nobody is hypnotizing you, but their very being is so soothing that you feel sleepy. You have not slept well; their being relaxes you.
Under their energy field, something which has been hidden comes up and something which has been up goes down. You are no longer the same; your very structure changes. If you can understand the process then you can understand the word Hindus have been using; the word is satsang: just to be in the presence of the enlightened ones. Nothing else is needed. The West is almost incapable of understanding it, that just the presence is enough. Satsang means just to be in the presence of one who has attained to truth -- to be with him, to be in his energy field, to feed on his energy.
In the last night, when Jesus was departing from his friends, he broke bread and gave it to his disciples and said, "Eat it; this is me." It is possible. When a man like Jesus takes the bread in his hand, the bread is no longer the same; it has become sacred. And when Jesus says, "It is me," he means it literally. To be in the presence of a Master is to eat him, literally. To be with him is to be in him.
In fact, old Hindu scriptures say that to be with a Master is to be in his womb.
That energy field is his womb, and when you are in his womb you are being transmuted, transformed, transfigured; a new being is born. Through the Master, one attains to a new birth -- one becomes dwij, twice-born. One birth is attained through the father and the mother, the parents -- that is the birth of the body.
Another birth is attained through the Master -- that is the birth of the spirit, the soul.
To be in the presence of a Buddha is to be on the way to becoming a Buddha.
Nothing else is needed. If you can imbibe the presence, if you can allow the presence to work, if you can remain passive in the presence, feeding on it, receptive, everything will happen.
Hindus have two words. One is satsang, which is impossible for the Westerners to understand because they say some teaching should be given. Hindus say presence is enough, no other teaching is needed. Another word is darshan. That too is difficult to understand: just to see a Master is enough; just to look into his eyes is enough; just to see is enough. Darshan means to see. Westerners come to me; they come for questions. When they remain here for a few more days then they understand; then they start feeling that questions are useless. Then they start coming and they say, "I have nothing to say... just to be here." It takes time for them to feel that just to be with me is enough.
To bring a question is to bring a barrier; to come with questions is to come with a barrier. Just to come with no questions -- nothing to ask, just to be -- is to come without barriers. Then energy floats, meets, merges -- you can become a part of my womb; I can float in you. But if you have a question then the mind is upper.
When you don't have a question your being is there, open, vulnerable.
This is even more difficult. When the yogi is established in truth: satya pratishthayam. You have to be alert from the very beginning that when Eastern scriptures say "truth" they don't mean just speaking the true, no. "Established in truth" means to be authentic, to be oneself -- not a single iota of falseness inside.
Of course such a person speaks truth, but that is not the point. Such a person lives in truth -- that is the point. In the West truth means truthfulness, to speak the true, that's all. In the East it means to be the truth. Speaking will follow by itself, that is not the point at all -- it is a shadow -- but to be in the truth means to be absolutely oneself, with no mask, with no personality, just to be the essence.
The word "personality" is meaningful. It comes from a Greek root, persona: persona means mask. In Greek drama actors used masks; those were called personas. The real is hidden behind and persona is all that is known to the world -- the face.
Without any personality, just the essence.... Zen people say, "Find out your face -- the original face." That is all meditation is all about. They said to their disciples, "Move back, and find out the face that you had before you were born. That is truth." Before you were born: because the moment you are born, falsity starts.
The moment you become part of a family, you have become part of a lie. The moment you become part of a society, you have become a part of a greater lie.
All societies are lies -- beautifully decorated, but lies. You have to seek the face that you had before you entered into the world, the original virginity.
One has to move back and in. One has to come to feel the center, the essence of your being, beyond which there is no possibility to go. One has to go on eliminating: the body you are not, the body goes on changing; mind you are not, mind is always in a flux -- thoughts and thoughts and thoughts -- it is a process; emotions you are not, they come and go. You are that which remains and remains and remains. The body comes and goes, the mind comes and goes. That which remains always hidden behind, that is the truth. To be that is the meaning: satya pratishthayam, one who is established in truth.
"... he attains to the fruit of action without acting." Here you can understand what Lao Tzu has been saying. If you become attuned to the truth of your being, you need not do anything -- things happen. Not that you just lie down on your bed and sleep, no, but you are not the doer. You do things, but you are not the doer: the whole starts functioning from you. You become a function of the whole, instrumental; what Krishna calls nimitta: just an instrument of the whole -- he flows through you and works. You need not worry about the results; you need not worry about planning. You live moment to moment and the whole takes care, and everything fits well.
Once you are established in your being you are established in the whole, because your being is part of the whole. Your face is part of the society, your personality is part of the world; your being, your essence, is part of the whole. You are deep- hidden gods. On the surface you may be a thief, on the surface you may be a monk, a good man, a bad man, a criminal, a judge -- a thousand and one plays, games -- but deep down you are a god. Once you are established into that godliness, the whole starts functioning through you.
Can't you see? No tree is worried about the flowers, they come. No river is worried about reaching the ocean, never goes neurotic and never goes to consult a psychoanalyst, but simply reaches to the ocean. Stars go on moving. Everything is moving so smoothly, there is no disturbance and the target is never missed.
Only man carries so much burden of worries: what to do, what not to do; what is good and what is bad; how to reach the goal, how to compete -- how not to allow others to reach, how to reach first of all. "How to become": Buddha has called this the disease of tanha, the disease of becoming.
One who is established in truth has become. Now there is no disease of becoming; he has attained to being. Becoming is disease; being is health. And being is available right now if you move withinwards. Only a look is needed.
I have heard about a Zen monk. He was a minor officer in the government service before he became enlightened. He came to his Master and he wanted to become a monk, he wanted to renounce the world. The Master said, "There is no need, because the being can be attained anywhere. There is no necessity to come to the monastery. It can be attained wherever you are. Remain, just allow it to happen."
The man started meditating, and meditation was nothing but just sitting silently, not doing anything. Thoughts come and go. One just witnesses, does not condemn, does not appreciate -- no valuation -- simply looks at them, aloof, indifferent.
Years passed. One day he was sitting in his office doing some official work.
Suddenly -- it was just the beginning of the rains -- a sudden clash of thunder, and he was shocked and thrown into his being: and he started laughing. And it is said then he never stopped laughing. He went laughing to the Master and he said, "A sudden clash of thunder, and I awoke, and I looked within... and the old man was there in all his at-homeness. And I have been seeking and seeking this old man, this ancient one, and he was just sitting there within me completely at home, at ease."
A sudden clash of thunder.... You just have to be in a receptive mood, then anything can trigger it. Just a shout from the Master, a hit from the Master, a look from the Master -- sudden clash of thunder -- and something.... You are that which you are seeking. The only thing needed is a look within. One becomes established, and then one becomes a function of the whole -- and to become the function of the whole is all. Nothing else remains then. Then your river flows towards the ocean, your tree goes on blooming, flowering.
"When the yogi is firmly established in truthfulness, he attains the fruit of action without acting." Then there is nothing to be done; everything happens. Not that you don't do -- remember it -- but the whole does it; you are not the doer.
You have always been seeking and seeking treasures, and they elude, and they are mirages, and they appear and when you reach after long journeys they are not there -- because the real treasure is hidden behind you. It is you! There is no other treasure; you are the treasure.
When one is established in honesty: asteya pratishthayam. The word asteya literally means "no-theft." That has to be understood. "Honesty" doesn't carry that meaning. Of course honesty is part of it, one of the components, but no-theft is very different.
You may not be a thief, but if you are jealous of others' possessions you are a thief. If you see somebody's car passing and envy arises, jealousy arises, or ambition -- a desire to possess that car -- you have committed a theft. No court can catch you, but in the court of the whole, you are caught: theft has been committed. No-theft means a nondesiring mind, because how can you be a nonthief with desiring? The mind goes on trying to possess more and more -- and whenever you want to possess you have to take it from someone else. It is a theft. You may not commit it, but the mind has already committed it.
No-theft means a mind who is not jealous, not competitive. And a great revolution happens: when this no-theft is there in your being, suddenly you fall to your own treasure, because when you are a thief -- competitive, ambitious, jealous -- you are always looking to others' treasures. That's how you are missing your own treasure. The eyes are always moving and looking at others' treasures: who is carrying what, who is having what. When you are trying to have more you are missing that which you have already. Because of that "more" you are always on the move and never in a rest where you can discover your own being.
Your own treasure can be discovered only in a certain space, and that certain space is available when you are not jealous, when you are not bothering about what others are having. You close your eyes; the world doesn't matter. Having, having more, is no longer meaningful: then being is revealed.
And there are two types of persons: people interested in having more, and people interested in being more. If you are interested in having more, whatsoever the object of having more, it makes no difference -- you can go on collecting money, you can go on collecting knowledge, you can go on collecting prestige, power, you can go on collecting whatsoever you want -- but if you are interested in having, you will miss; because there is no need for this continuous effort to have. You already have the treasure within you. When the yogi is firmly established in nontheft, inner riches present themselves.
Brahmacharya pratishthayam veerya labha.
To translate Sanskrit is almost impossible. After centuries and centuries of refinement, of spiritual inquiry, meditation, Sanskrit has attained a flavor of its own which no other language has. For example, it is impossible to translate the word brahmacharya. Literally it means "behaving like a god," being like a god.
Ordinarily it is translated as "sexual continence." A vast difference -- it is not just
celibacy -- has to be understood: you can be celibate and you may not attain to brahmacharya, but if you attain to brahmacharya you will be celibate.
Celibacy is repressive -- you suppress your sex energy -- and that suppression never leads to transformation. But there are ways in which your godliness is revealed to you: suddenly, sex disappears. Not that it is suppressed. In that godliness the energy takes a totally different form. You become celibate, with no effort on your part; if there is effort then it is going to be a suppression. Celibacy is a consequence of brahmacharya.
Then how to attain to brahmacharya -- "When the yogi is firmly established in brahmacharya..."? If you are firmly established in ahimsa, nonviolence, if you are firmly established in truth, if you are firmly established in nontheft, it is simple to be established like a god. You are a god. When you are not hurting others, you are not creating chains. You are cutting your fetters; you are becoming free.
When you are not trying to pose and you are authentic, when you are not trying to have masks around you -- you are true to your very core -- already sex energy will be changing.
Have you watched that when you are violent there is more sex energy? In fact, husbands and wives know well that if they fight, that night they can make love better. Why it happens? Violence creates sex energy. The more violent a person is, the more sexual he will be. Nonviolence transforms sex energy. If you are not trying to hurt anybody, if you are not interested in hurting anybody, if you have a deep love, affection, compassion towards others, you will find your sex desire is subsiding.
Sex can exist in a certain company: anger, violence, hatred, jealousy, competition, ambition. These all have to be there; sex can exist as part of the company. If you drop other things, by and by you find sex has lost that urge; it is becoming more and more affection than sex, more and more love than sex, more and more compassion -- the same energy moving higher, on a higher plane.
One becomes established in brahmacharya not by celibacy -- because, if you go and watch people who have suppressed their sex, you will find that they have become more angry, they have become more violent. That's why all over human history armies have been forced to remain celibate, because once armies are forced to remain celibate, they become more violent: the energy that can be released through sex is not released.
In fact psychologists have found a deep association between violence and suppressed sex energy. All violent arms -- you push a knife or a dagger or a sword into somebody: it is just like sex energy penetrating the woman. The other's body becomes the woman and your arms become just phallic symbols. It may be a bullet from a machine gun and you may be far away, but it is the same.
Whenever your sex energy is suppressed, you will find ways and means how to penetrate others' bodies. Armies have not been allowed girlfriends. Only the American army is allowed -- they will be defeated, and everywhere. They cannot
fight in the world. American soldiers cannot fight. If you are sexually satisfied, the desire to fight disappears. They are connected.
That's why it happens that whenever a culture is very developed it is always defeated by a culture which is not very developed. India was defeated by Huns, Turks, Mohammedans -- they came from a very undeveloped world and they defeated a very developed culture. Whenever a culture is very developed, it is very satisfied, content. Everything is going so good, who wants to fight? When everything is so peaceful, who bothers to kill and be killed? And those who came were just barbarians, absolutely uncultured, and sexually very frustrated. If you want an army to fight well, make the army sexually frustrated. Then they will fight, because then the fight has become a symbolic sexuality.
This has happened just now in Vietnam. It is not that communists have won and America has been defeated; it is simply that a higher culture is always defeated.
A lower culture, a poor country, in every way unsatisfied -- sexually in a very deep repressive state -- is bound to win. Whenever a poor country gets in a fight with a rich country, the rich country will be defeated finally. You can see it easily: if a rich family starts fighting with a poor family, the rich family will be defeated -- because when you are rich, satisfied, the very urge to fight disappears; and in fighting you are going to lose, so you avoid fighting. And the poor has nothing to lose -- why should he avoid fighting? In fact he enjoys it. He has everything to gain, nothing to lose.
And the same happens in individuals' lives. If you become nonviolent, if you become established in truth, if you become established in nontheft, suddenly you find sex has lost the lust. It is no longer a mad passion. You can enjoy it if you like it, but the passion is no longer mad. It has become softer, and finally it disappears.
And when it disappears, the energy that was encaged in sex is released. That energy becomes your reservoir. That's why Patanjali says, "When the yogi is firmly established in sexual continence, vigor is gained." Tremendous energy is gained. Not that you become a great athlete or you become a boxer, no. That energy has a totally different dimension. That energy is not to fight. That energy is not of this world. That energy is not really male; that energy is feminine. All yogis who have attained to it become more feminine. Look at Buddha: his face, the body -- the roundness of it, the softness of it -- looks feminine.
Hindus have done well -- they have never painted Buddha, Mahavir, Krishna, Ram, with moustaches, beards, no. Not that they were in any way lacking in hormones and they didn't have any moustache and beard -- they must have had beautiful beards and moustaches -- but Hindus have dropped the idea because with moustaches and beards they look more male, and the whole idea has to be expressed in a feminine way: the roundness of Buddha's body, the softness. And the marble helped tremendously; the marble gives it a feminine quality.
Nietzsche criticizing Buddha and Jesus has called them "womanish." His
criticism is absolutely absurd, but he has hit a right point at least in calling them womanish -- they are.
When the sex energy disappears, where does it go? It does not move out; it becomes an inner pool. One simply feels full of power and energy. Not that he uses it and goes fighting with it; now there is no urge to fight. One is so strong that in fact to fight is not possible. Only weaklings fight. Those who are afraid of their strength -- they fight to prove that they are strong. Really strong people don't fight. They look at the whole thing as a game, childish.
When the yogi is established in nonpossessiveness, when he possesses nothing except himself; he may be a king, he may live in a palace, but he does not possess it. If it is lost, not a ripple will arise in his mind.
There is a story of a great yogi; his name was Janak. India has worshipped him for centuries, and India has not worshipped anybody else like him because he is unique in one way. Buddha left his palace, kingdom; Mahavir left his palace and kingdom; Janak never left. Buddha and Mahavir are in the thousands, the whole history is full of them -- Janak seems to be unique. He did not follow the pattern.
He remained in the palace; he remained a king.
It happened that a young seeker was told by his Master, "Now, you go to Janak.
Your last initiation will be done by him. Whatsoever I could teach I have taught you, but I am a beggar. I don't know anything about the world; I have renounced it. You must go to a man who knows about the world. This is going to be your last initiation. Before you renounce you must ask somebody who knows the world. I don't know it, so go to Janak the king."
The disciple was a little hesitant because he was ready to renounce and he didn't believe that this Janak can be an enlightened man. If he is enlightened, then why is he in the palace? Ordinary logic: he should renounce everything. He should not possess anything because that is one of the basic things -- to become nonpossessive, to remain in nonpossessiveness, in pure austerity of nonpossessiveness. One becomes so simple, so innocent, why is he living as a king? But when the Master said, he had to go. Hesitantly, reluctantly, he reached.
The evening he reached, Janak invited him to the court. There was much jubilation. Beautiful girls were dancing, wine and women, and everybody was almost drunk. This young man from an ashram could not believe his eyes, and he could not believe his old Master -- why that fool has sent him here. For what?
He was disturbed so much that he wanted to leave immediately, but Janak said, "That will be insulting. You have come; be here at least one night. Tomorrow morning you can leave. And why are you so disturbed? Rest a little while. In the morning I will ask you for what purpose you have come."
The young man said, "Now there is no need to ask anything. I have seen with my own eyes what is happening here."
Janak laughed. The young man was taken care of -- fed well, given a good massage and a bath, given a beautiful room, very costly bed. He was tired, coming on foot from the jungle monastery to the capital, and he wanted to rest.
The moment he lay down on the bed, he saw a sword hanging just above him by a very thin thread. He could not believe what was the point of it all, and he has been received so well and now why this joke. He could not sleep the whole night -- continuously the fear. He could not enjoy the bed, he could not enjoy the palace -- the sword was hanging on top of him.
In the morning the king inquired, "Did you sleep well?"
He said, "How could I sleep? What nonsense are you talking to me? Everything was okay, but that sword just hanging by a thin thread -- any moment it can fall.
Just a breeze, and I will be killed."
So the king said, "You couldn't enjoy the bed? It is the most beautiful we have in this palace, and the room that I have given to you is the most luxurious."
He said, "I don't even remember that room and that bed. I have never been in such suffering -- because of that sword."
The king said, "Then it is better you don't go. I am in this palace, but the sword is hanging on me -- the sword of death. And the thread is thinner than this, and any moment I can die."
When one remembers death, how can one possess anything? The place is there, the palace is there, the kingdom is there -- but death is more there than anything else. How can one possess? When death is there, and one remembers it, one becomes nonpossessive. Then one knows, "I can possess only myself. Death will take everything else."
"When the yogi is firmly established in nonpossessiveness, there arises knowledge of the 'how' and 'wherefore' of existence." When one becomes nonpossessive, the energy is no longer moving outward. It is moving because of the desire to possess. When you are aware that nothing can be possessed -- you come in the world and you go out of it; the world was there before you, it will be there after you.... Nothing can be possessed; the very idea to possess is stupid.
The moment you are aware of it, suddenly, the whole of your energy that had been moving in a thousand and one directions to possess the world moves inwards, and, Patanjali says, "... there arises knowledge of the 'how' and 'wherefore' of existence." And then you know from where you have come, who you are. Then you come to face the original source of life, existence. Then you are face to face with the source, the very source. That source is God: the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega.