How full, emptiness!

Maneesha, there are four possible ways to explain the unexplainable. Unconsciously, man has made philosophies out of those four ways.

Man is a crossroads, where four ways meet. The first way is that of matter. The atheist takes that road, the scientist takes that road: "Man is nothing but matter." From the days of the charvakas to the days of Bertrand Russell, there have been great, eminent thinkers who have chosen that path. And almost half of the world today is on that path, because communism does not believe in anything else but matter -- mind is only an epiphenomenon. Epiphenomenon means just a shadow: when the man disappears, the shadow disappears. There is nothing beyond death, and there is nothing before birth. You are complete between birth and death; that's all you have.

The second road defines man as a duality between matter and mind. Most of the philosophers of the world have chosen that definition because it seems completely rational. All that we know about man is that his body consists of matter, and we know that he has thoughts which are not material. These things can be observed from outside. Hence, man is basically matter with an addition of a shadow that is his mind. As the body dies, mind also dies. On this path also, life extends only between birth and death.

The third possibility, which has been accepted by all religions, is that man is not just matter or just mind; he is also a soul. Matter is his outer expression, soul is his inner expression, and mind functions as a bridge between the two. On the third path there is a possibility of a life beyond death. The people who have accepted it have created on this foundation the idea of reincarnation: birth after birth, one changes houses but the essential soul remains.

Zen has a fourth standpoint. Man is not matter, although he is covered with matter. He is not mind, although he is covered with mind. Nor is he an individual soul. He is a pure nothingness. Man, from this fourth standpoint, which is the standpoint of Zen, is almost like an onion. You go on peeling it, one layer after another layer, hoping that you are going to find something. Finally, when you have peeled all the layers off, your hands are full of emptiness; nothing is left. The onion was only layers and layers and layers and layers. Behind those layers was emptiness, nothingness, which will not be visible to the eyes, which will not be tangible to the hands.

Zen has taken the ultimate standpoint about man, you cannot go beyond that. Here ends the whole journey, the pilgrimage of the seeker.

Zen wants you not to stop at matter. Respect it, it serves you; care for it, it cares for you. You are not the mind -- don't make it a master. It is a good servant -- use it. Use it so that you can reach beyond it. It is a ladder to go beyond, but don't get caught up with it.

The "soul" is simply a consolation to people, because if you say to them that meditation will end up in nothingness ... In a million, perhaps one person will become interested in meditation. And if you tell them, "All your effort will come to a vast nothingness," you will frighten them. You will create a question in their minds: "Then what is the purpose? We are -- at least, we are. Doing meditation, we will not be." It is going to be the ultimate death. Yes.

Gautam Buddha was continually asked, "Why do people go on coming to you when you offer nothing but nothingness?"

And Buddha said many times, "Nothingness is not just no-thing-ness. It has its own universality. It is becoming as vast as the whole universe, unlimited. Your personality is too small."

The people who are afraid of nothingness, of dissolving not only their personality but their individuality too, remain with the third standpoint.

The third is very consoling. At least it gives you something to hang on to. Zen does not give you anything; it simply takes away all the layers of the onion and then says to you, "Look, this is you -- just pure nothingness."

But the purity of it is so overwhelming that you are not, but your laughter is. You are not, but your joy is. It has become cosmic. You are not, but your ecstasy is, and now it is not confined to a small area of your personality or individuality; now the whole of existence is ecstatic. The birds flying and the flowers opening and the clouds showering -- everything is happening in the deep nothingness of your realization of the cosmic emptiness as the source of all things.

Perhaps Zen alone has given a very scientific answer to the question. "From where do things come, and to where do they go back?" Even science shrugs its shoulders the moment you start asking them questions about the origin. All that has been said about the origin by the religions, by the scientific people, is simply guesswork. Nobody was a witness, obviously. How can there be a witness when existence has not started yet? You will come later on; you cannot come before. And, in fact, if there was a creator, existence was already there; otherwise how can the creator exist?

But people don't go to such depths. They don't bother about that, believing in a God who created the world. Why don't you ask who created God? When did he start to be? His family, his nationality, his race -- any trace? Suddenly he comes and starts creating the world. Such a stupid idea, and millions have believed in it, and still believe in it.

Zen is very clean and clear, saying that there has been no beginning at all; hence the question of creation does not arise. And there is not going to be any end; hence the question of anybody destroying it, God or Devil, does not arise. It is always here, it has always been here, and it will always be here. It just goes on playing in many forms. It is a tremendous drama.

If you understand the fourth --

that everything comes from nothingness ...

If you can return to nothingness consciously

you have found the source.

That's what I call meditation:

returning consciously to the very source

not only of your being

but of the very cosmos.

There you find an eternal flame.

Things come, things go.

Waves arise, and waves disappear.

But everything remains,

rooted in nothingness.

This nothingness is very miraculous because one would think that things should be rooted in something. But if you ask the Zen masters if things should be rooted in something, they will simply laugh and ask, "In what will your something be rooted?"

You cannot ask the same question about nothingness. Nothingness simply means nothingness, there is no question of any roots. It neither comes nor goes. Nothing happens to it; it simply remains, utterly silent.

You touch this nothingness when you are deep in your being, because that being is already rooted in this nothingness. You are driving your life, moment to moment, from that nothingness.

The flowers may not understand from where they have come. The branches may not know from where they have come. The trunk of a tree may not know from where it has come, because the roots are hidden underground. The roots are hidden for security purposes, otherwise you could be harmed very badly.

You cannot take even your very intimate friend into your nothingness; you cannot invite anybody there -- no party! You have to go alone. It is such a sacred place.

In the old Jewish tradition ... It is significant to understand, because Jews, their rabbis, will not be able to give the explanation. Zen can give an explanation for many things in other religions also, because it has gone to the very root, it has traveled the whole path. It has not chosen one path, it has accepted all paths, and still it has gone beyond all paths. So it knows more than anybody else and yet it is absolutely innocent because it knows nothing.

In the great temple of Jerusalem there used to be a festival once a year. The temple had an inner sanctum, a small room, and only the chief rabbi was allowed to enter into it. He would enter, close the doors, and in that silent, small chamber he was allowed to whisper the word "God". It has a beauty of its own, why it was done in such a way. To use the word "God" as a mundane word makes it also like a thing. Jews have avoided it ... you can only whisper in silence. Perhaps you don't even have to whisper; you can simply feel the presence of nothingness.

Judaism is the only religion which does not write the whole word "God". They leave the "o" out: "G-d". The "o" in between is left out, they don't write it. It is sacrilegious to pronounce the name of God; something of it is bound to remain beyond words. In fact, the most important part -- the middle part -- is missing. You have touched only one side or another side, but you have not touched the heart of it. In the word also, you are making it clear that unless you touch the heart of God ... and the only way is to touch your own heart. You don't know your own heart. Your heart has roots in the universal heart from where it gets its life. And as the universal heart withdraws man dies, but the life that was is not finished. It may move into a new ripple, into a new flower, into a new cuckoo ... millions are the ways. Or it may remain silent in the ocean of the cosmos.

Because it has chosen the fourth, Zen's standpoint is the most superior, the most delicate, and the most intimate one.

We are born looking outwards. Our eyes open outwards, our hands reach outwards, all of our senses are ready to receive the outward vibrations. But we don't have any sense available which gives us information about our inner being.

Meditation is the search for that hidden eye that can see your origin. It is called the buddha-eye. But a great turning is needed. You have to close off the world completely, even if just for a single moment, and give a turn to your whole being, to look inside the well from where you are coming.

And don't think about anything else, because this experience of looking into yourself will explain everything that was a question to you. Thousands of answers were there, but no answer was able to satisfy it.

Zen has no idea of judgment. It never judges that somebody is a sinner or somebody is a saint. These are only waves; there is no need to waste your time on waves. If you know the ocean, you will not bother about the waves. One wave turns in one way, the other in another way, but they all belong to the same ocean and they all dissolve finally into the same ocean.

So the only thing worth consideration is not what is good and what is bad, but what is the origin from where your heart has come. It is an existential approach -- not theoretical, not philosophical.

Everything remains the same, nothing changes. This does not mean that the man who has approached the very origin of existence becomes somebody special. Everything remains the same. But on the other hand, everything starts looking different. Now he can see the beauty of the flower that you cannot see. His eyes are so fresh that he can see the beauty of a sunset that you cannot see. Your eyes are so full of dust, you are hardly able to see. You cannot penetrate to the very origin of a flower.

But a man who knows his origin knows the origin of everything. He never makes any judgment. This is a great contribution to human consciousness: not to make judgments. That is a very low kind of morality, a very low kind of religion, which goes on making judgments about good and bad.

In Zen everything is, as it is, a manifestation of the cosmic soul. It has to be loved and respected. It does not matter what the manifestation is doing. What matters is that the man who is a thief or a murderer is also coming from the same source as you are, and he will be going to the same source as you are.

So behind the curtain you will find great saints sharing experiences with great sinners. On the stage it is one thing; behind the stage it is totally different. And once you have touched the origin of things, you have gone behind the stage. On the stage it is all acting. On the stage it is simply drama. Behind the stage it is pure silence, nothingness. A rest, a relaxation -- everything has moved into total tranquility.

These are great statements. The day you understand them as your experience, you will dance with joy.

Master Otsu is saying that the moment a person enters into the origin of things, he leaves all dualities behind: truth and untruth, love and hate. He enters into the oneness of things. He is neither worldly nor saintly.

That's why it is very difficult to find an authentic man of meditation. You will find people who are worldly; you can see them. You can find very easily people who are other-worldly, saints. They have renounced the world; that is very easy. The world is so crazy, so insane, that one wonders why everybody is not renouncing it! The problem is where to go? If everybody renounces it, everybody will reach to another place, but the same faces, the same people ... the buses will start going to Everest, restaurants will have to be opened; everybody is coming to the hills, renouncing the world.

There is no way to renounce the world. And there is no point, either. But that's what all your religions have been valuing the most: renouncing the world. So there are saints, and those who are still attached to things are sinners. But for a man of cosmic consciousness -- and that's what the ultimate of meditation is -- all waves are just drama.

It is a beautiful drama. You cannot take away the sinners; otherwise it will lose all salt. The saints and the sinners both are needed to make the drama. Love and hate both are needed. If everything is goody-goody ... finished! All taste is lost. If everybody looks alike -- very saintly, very pious -- the world will become a boredom. It is good that a few people are cheats, a few people are cutting your pockets. If nobody cuts the pockets, what is the point of having pockets? To make the drama richer ...

Just the other day, Anando brought me news: A man has reported to the police station that his wife was missing. The police officer asked, "When did you find that she was missing?"

He said, "I don't remember. It may be a few weeks, or maybe a few months. She is certainly missing, but there is no hurry to find her."

A great man of insight.

I have heard another version:

A man came running into a post office, tears coming down, and he said to the postmaster, "My wife is missing -- find her immediately!" He would not even give the postmaster a chance to say anything. He was so much in misery and suffering, and tears rolling down, that the postmaster said finally, "Listen, this is the post office."

He said, "I know."

The postmaster said, "The police station is just opposite, on the other side of the road."

The man said, "I know."

The postmaster said, "If you know, then why are you bothering me? For half an hour crying and weeping ... Just go to the police station."

The man said, "Once before it also happened, and I went to the police station and those idiots brought my wife back! Now I'm not going. You have to write it down, just for my consolation, that at least I reported it. To whom I reported it does not matter."

The postmaster said, "Okay, I can take the report, but that will not help."

The man said, "That's what I want, that it should not help. You just write the report. Those police officers are such idiots. I told them that there was no hurry, but they brought my wife within six hours and again the old drama started."

But it is a beautiful world where wives run away, where husbands run away, where people forget to come back home, enter into another home and are gone.

Rather than making it a miserable place, Zen gives it color. And that needs a very great heart, to accept that the drama needs many kinds of people, many kinds of acts, many tragedies, many comedies. There is no need to make judgments.

What is the difference between you and the other person? -- a certain situation. You were born into a different family; that is a situation. You were educated in a different school; that is a situation. What is different between man and man, man and woman? -- just a situation.

Rinzai is saying, THE COMPLETE TAKING AWAY OF BOTH, OF MAN AND SITUATION. HERE IS EXPERIENCED ABSOLUTE NOT-NESS. He is not using the word 'nothingness' because you misunderstand it. To emphasize that it is not nothingness, he says it is simply not-ness, it is pure emptiness.

Everything comes to relax into nothing, and then arises, rejuvenated, back into some manifestation. The way Zen looks at the world, it does not make anybody feel guilty; neither does it make anybody feel superior. The source is the same, the game is the same. Of course, different players have to play from different sides.

You cannot call it even a place; it is only space.

One has just touched on it. No word can reach to the very heart of existence.

But silence can divulge as much depth as you have courage for. What words cannot manage to express, your silence can express, your laughter can express, because laughter is coming from the depth of your heart. It is just like a flower.

Words are first put into you just the way computers are fed full of all the information that they have. Then you can ask them and they will repeat it. That does not make them very great learned scholars. But that is what your learned scholars are. They have not a single word of their own to say.

The cosmic origin of things is beyond our intellect, our mind, our words. But in deep silence we reach it. We feel the dance of it, we hear the music of it, we feel the unknown fragrance of it.

There is a Zen saying:

TEN YEARS OF DREAMS IN THE FOREST! -- because a meditator does not just one day become a meditator; dreams follow, for years. Even if you go into the deepest forest, those dreams haunt you. But slowly slowly those dreams settle down because there is no point. You are no more interested in them; on the contrary you simply sit there watching.

This watchfulness makes you so silent that when sitting by the lake's edge, laughing ... laughing about what? Laughing about the whole world; that you have it within you and still you are searching for it. LAUGHING A NEW LAUGH. A meditator laughs a new laugh. Its freshness comes from his depths.

Another Zen saying:

He is saying that he has reached his origins. It took ten years to find it, and now he has forgotten the road, how to come back -- THE ROAD BY WHICH I CAME.

Please, don't you do that! Every day I take you to the very origin of things, but I don't leave you there long enough. I keep Nivedano alert. Somebody may forget the way back; then I will be responsible. But Nivedano has a good drum, and he is finding some other, better instruments. So in spite of yourself, you are suddenly awake. Before you know it, you have come back.

There is not much distance between you as you are and as your original being is. The difference is so slight -- just a drum beat, a hit on your head by Master Niskriya, anything can bring you back.

This Zen master who remained for ten years and could not come back must have been searching alone, without a master. Otherwise the master gives you a certain rope; he does not allow you to go beyond that. He gives you a taste of your being -- that is enough -- and a remembrance of it. He takes you through the rose garden and the fragrance of the roses hangs around your clothes. That much is enough. You know who you are and your actions express your sincerity, your every gesture becomes a buddha gesture. Just two minutes are enough to reach the origin of your being.

I go on watching: when I say die, I have to watch whether somebody is really dying. Otherwise I will be proved a criminal, that I ordered him to die and he died. So I have to keep watch. And the only way is, I have to feel your heart throbbing -- ten thousand hearts throbbing. And my arithmetic is not good, but somehow I manage. At least up to now I have managed. One never knows about tomorrow, or even tonight.

Sardar Gurudayal Singh is laughing, and he is one of the fellows who may become lost and not come back. He may not care about Nivedano's drum. He may listen, but may not care.

But I have other ways also.

(SARDAR LAUGHS HEARTILY.)

Do you want to see my other ways?

(THE MASTER BEGINS TO MAKE TICKLING GESTURES TOWARDS AVIRBHAVA, AS HE DID THE PREVIOUS EVENING, AND WAVES OF LAUGHTER RISE AND FALL AS HE "TICKLES" AGAIN AND AGAIN.)

This way is purely imported -- Hollywood, California. A real buddha! And I have my substitutes ...

(HE TURNS TO ANANDO AND PROVOKES MORE LAUGHTER.)

Nobody can die here. Even if you have died, you will have to laugh at least. That's why I am at ease in ordering you to die. Otherwise who orders anybody to die -- and die completely and totally? Because I know that I have ways to wake you up even if you are dead. Every night I have to do it. A few people really die.

And another Zen master:

A tremendously significant statement. You see only misery and suffering -- all non-essentials. You don't see that on this very earth, immortal buddhas have moved, lived, loved. You don't see the heights that human consciousness has reached many, many times. You remain confined to very small things.

At least every evening with me, you have to reach the heights. And don't get lost; come back down to the marketplace. My whole message is: Touch the heights of consciousness and bring those heights to the marketplace.

Maneesha has asked:

Maneesha, there is no end to the fullness of emptiness. Because if there were a limit, then the emptiness would not be really empty; it would have boundaries. Total emptiness means the whole cosmos, unlimited, in your hands. And if, out of meditation, you cannot bring a new juice, a fresh fragrance, a new life and a new laughter, your meditation has not been authentic. You played the game but not totally.

Otherwise ... every night, ten thousand people are becoming buddhas. When the same buddhas come again they have forgotten what has happened last night. They wake up and start looking for their rented bicycles. This is very strange -- buddhas never have used rented bicycles. And so quickly!

Just take time, don't be in such a hurry.

But I am introducing in the world a new kind of buddha who can have a girlfriend, and can change his girlfriend as many times as he wants, because we don't take this world seriously. So I see my buddhas moving with new girlfriends every day. Nobody exactly knows ...

(THE MASTER BEGINS TO "TICKLE" AVIRBHAVA AGAIN, AND WE LAUGH ALONG WITH HIM.)

Maneesha, this is the miracle you are talking about! Another miracle is ...

(HE TURNS TO "TICKLE" ANANDO.)

I have got only two miracles. But I think two are enough to make ten thousand buddhas laugh. And they do nothing. They sit so buddha-like. But still they trigger you.

And I have got, just behind Maneesha, Stonehead. Now he has cut all his hair, removed his beard, and left a small Chinese moustache. You all have to see him in his whole glory. Germany has never seen a Zen master ...

Do you want to see him in his full glory?

("YES!" WE RESPOND, LAUGHING AND CLAPPING.)

Stand up Zen Master Sekito Niskriya.

That's great! Now we can ... To welcome Zen Master Sekito Stonehead Niskriya, a few laughs because we don't have anything else to offer.

It is ten o'clock at night when Og and Beep-o, two Martian pilots, land on earth in the middle of a city. Og is sent out to make contact with whatever he finds, while Beep-o watches him on a TV screen.

The first thing Og runs into is big Olga Kowalski taking her dog for its nightly walk. The dog is sniffing enthusiastically at a lamppost as Og approaches them.

Five minutes later, a battered Og returns to his flying saucer. "What happened to you out there?" cries Beep-o.

"Well," says Og, "there was a little hairy creature on a rope that kept smelling me, and then it watered my feet ..."

"Yes," interrupts Beep-o. "But what about that big, ugly beast on the other end of the rope?"

"Oh, that!" exclaims Og. "Be careful of that one. While the little hairy beast was washing my feet, that big one walked up to me, stuck a silver coin in my mouth, then beat on my face and screamed, 'Shit! There is never any fucking Coca-Cola in these machines!'"

Paddy decides to have his old Ford car completely computerized and automated at O'Grady's Garage.

After the job is done, he drives over to Kowalski's house. An hour and ten beers later, Paddy shouts, "Hey, Kowalski! Come and listen to my new automatic compact disc player!"

Kowalski grabs his can of beer, staggers across the yard and gets into the car.

"How about some Irish music?" slobbers Paddy, selecting a tiny silver disc and pushing several buttons on the dashboard.

Five minutes later the speeding Ford car rounds a corner on two wheels, knocks down a policeman and four pedestrians, overturns a fruit-cart, slices a telephone pole in half, flattens one hundred yards of bushes, rolls over three times, and flies through the open door of the pub -- finally coming to rest against the shattered bar.

A dazed Paddy opens the crumpled door of the back seat and staggers out. Then an equally dazed Kowalski rubs his eyes and peers at Paddy through the dust.

"Jeezus Christ!" Kowalski cries. "Can you get all that on a tiny compact disc?"

Spudski, the Polack farmer, is hiring someone to help him run his farm.

Clodski applies for the job and goes for an interview.

"Now show me," says Farmer Spudski, "how you blow your nose."

Clodski is puzzled, but obligingly clears his nostrils, one at a time into the air, making a disgusting noise.

"Okay," says Spudski, "you are hired."

"You mean," asks Clodski, "that's all you want to know about me? Why?"

"Well, you see," explains the farmer, "the last guy that worked here had a disgusting habit. He used to blow his nose into little rubber bags and leave them in my wife's bed!"

Nivedano ...

(Drumbeat)

(Gibberish)

Nivedano ...

(Drumbeat)

Be silent. Close your eyes.

Feel the body absolutely frozen.

Gather your consciousness inwards.

This is what is meant by turning the heart from outside to inside.

Look deeply. Find your roots.

This silence is the miracle

that you are carrying within yourself.

Deeper ... and deeper ... and deeper,

without any fear -- it is your own sky.

Open your wings and fly

to any heights you want.

There is no obstruction anywhere,

just the courage is needed.

Blessed is this evening.

Ten thousand people are entering

into a deep silence,

into nothingness.

Precious are these moments.

Feel the splendor and the beauty of silence.

Nivedano ...

(Drumbeat)

Relax. Let go.

Die completely and totally.

This is just to make clear

that within you is a consciousness

that can never die,

a consciousness

which is connected with the cosmos.

It is eternal.

It has no personality,

no individuality.

It is sheer joy not to be.

When you come back,

bring this joy and this fresh laughter,

these fresh roses and their fragrance,

with you. Slowly slowly

they will become your very breathing.

Unless meditation becomes

a natural, spontaneous phenomenon,

you have not touched

even the periphery of meditation.

Deeper and deeper.

Die to the past, die to the future.

Only this moment become

just like an arrow

going to the very depths.

Nivedano ...

(Drumbeat)

Come back ...

Sit down like buddhas.

In deep silence, in great joy.

Okay, Maneesha?

Yes, Beloved Master.

Can we celebrate the gathering of ten thousand buddhas?

Yes, Beloved Master!