And the Sky Abides

Compassion is the ultimate flowering of consciousness. It is passion released of all darkness, it is passion freed from all bondage, it is passion purified of all poison. Passion becomes compassion.

Passion is the seed, compassion is the flowering of it.

But compassion is not kindness, kindness is not compassion. Kindness is an ego-attitude, it strengthens your ego. When you are kind to somebody, you feel the upper hand. When you are kind to somebody there is a deep insult - you are humiliating the other, you are feeling happy in his humiliation. That's why kindness can never be forgiven. Whomsoever you have been kind to will remain somehow somewhere angry with you, is bound to take revenge. Because kindness is only on the surface as compassion, but deep in the depth it has nothing to do with compassion. It has other ulterior motives.

Compassion is unmotivated, it has not motive at all. It is simply because you have, you give - not that the other needs. The other is not a consideration at all in compassion. Because you have, you go on overflowing. Compassion is very spontaneous, natural, like breathing. Kindness is a cultivated attitude. Kindness is a kind of cunningness; it is calculation, it is arithmetic.

You have heard one of the most important sayings - it happens in almost all the scriptures of the world in one form or another: Do unto others as you would like to be done with you. This is a calculated attitude, this is not compassion. This has nothing to do with religion - it is a very lower kind of morality, a very worldly morality: Do unto others as you would like to be done with you. It is very business-like, it is not religious at all. You are doing only because you would like exactly the same in return. It is selfish, it is self-centered, it is egoistic. You are not serving the other, you are not loving the other - in a roundabout way you are serving yourself. You are using the other.

It is very enlightened egoism, but it is egoism - very intelligent, but it is egoism. Compassion is a very uncalculated flowering, flowing. You simply go on giving because there is no other way to be.

So remember, the first thing: it is not kindness, in one sense - in the sense you use the word 'kindness' it is not kindness. In another sense, compassion is the real kindness. You are not being kind to somebody, you are not bigger than the other, you are simply releasing the energy that you are receiving from the whole. It comes from the whole, it goes to the whole - you don't stand as an obstacle, that's all.

When Alexander was coming to India he went to see one great mystic, Diogenes. And Diogenes was lying on a Riverbed, taking a sunbath. Alexander had always cherished the desire to see this man Diogenes, because he had heard that this man has nothing, yet there is no other man who is more rich than this man. He has something within him, he has a luminous being. He is a beggar, but he is really an emperor. So Alexander had become intrigued. While coming to India he heard that Diogenes was just nearby, so he went to see him.

Early morning, the sun is rising, Diogenes is Lying naked on the sand. Alexander says, 'I am happy to see you. Whatsoever I have heard seems to be true. I have never seen a happier man. Can I do something for you, sir?' And Diogenes said, 'You just stand to the side - you are preventing the sun.

And remember! never prevent the sun. You are dangerous, you can prevent the sun reaching many people. Just stand to the side.'

Compassion is not something that you give to others, it is simply not preventing the sun. See the point of it: It is simply not preventing God. It is becoming a vehicle of the divine, it is simply allowing the divine to flow through you. You become a hollow bamboo and God goes on flowing through you.

You know? only the hollow bamboo can become a flute - because only a hollow bamboo is capable of allowing a song to flow through it.

Compassion is not from you, compassion is from God; kindness is from you - the first thing to be understood. Kindness is something that you do, compassion is something that God does. You simply don't prevent, you don't come in the way, you don't stand in the way. You allow the sun to fall, to penetrate, to go wherever it wants.

Kindness strengthens the ego - and compassion is possible only when the ego has disappeared utterly. So don't be misguided I y your dictionaries, because in the dictionaries you will find compassion is synonymous with kindness. It is not so in the real dictionary of existence. And Zen has only one dictionary, the dictionary of the universe.

Mohammedans have the holy Koran as their scripture and Hindus have the Veda as their scripture, and Sikkhas have Gurugranth, and Christians have the Bible as their scripture, and Jews have the Talmud. If you ask me, 'What is the scripture of Zen?' they don't have any scripture, their scripture is the universe. And that is the beauty of Zen.

In every stone is the sermon, and in every sound of a bird God is reciting. In every movement around you it is God dancing.

Compassion is when you allow this eternal song to flow through you, to pulsate through you - when you cooperate with this divinity, when you move hand in hand with God. It has nothing to do with you; you have to disappear for it to be. For compassion to be, you have to disappear utterly - it flows only into your absence.

Kindness cultivated makes you very egoistic. You can go and see: people who are kind are very very egoistic, more egoistic than the people who are cruel. This is strange. The cruel person feels a little guilty too, but the so-called kind person feels perfectly okay - always holier-than-thou, always better than others. He4 is very very self-conscious in what he is doing; his each act brings more energy and more power to his ego. He is becoming greater and greater every day. The whole trip is of the ego.

This is the first thing, compassion is not the so-called kindness. It has the essential part of kindness in it - the essential part of being soft, of being sympathetic, of being empathetic, of not being hard, of being creative, of being helpful. But nothing is done as an act on your part; everything flows through you. It is from God, and you are happy and thankful that God has chosen you as a vehicle. You become transparent and it passes through you. You become a transparent glass so the sun passes through you - you don't hinder. It is pure kindness with no ego in it.

The second thing: compassion is not your so-called love either. It has the essential quality of love, but it is not YOUR love. Your love is just lust parading as love. Your love has nothing to do with love - it is a kind of exploitation of the other, in a beautiful name, with a great slogan.

You go on saying 'I love you' - but have you ever loved anybody? You have simply used others; you have not loved. Then how can using the other become love? In fact, to use the other is the greatest destructive act possible in the world - because to use the other as a means is criminal.

Immanuel Kant, describing his concept of morality, says: 'To use the other as a means is immoral - the basic immoral act.' Never use the other as a means, because everybody is an end unto himself.

Respect the other as an end unto himself. When you respect the other as an end unto himself, you love. when you start using - the husband using the wife, the wife using the husband-there are motives. and you can see it all around.

People are not destroyed by hate, people are destroyed by their so-called love. And because they call it love, they can't look into it. Because they call it love they think it has to be good and all right.

It is not. Humanity is suffering from this disease of so-called love. if you look deep down into it, you will find just naked lust. Lust is not love. Lust wants to get, love wants to give. the whole emphasis of lust is: Get as much as you can, and give as little as you can. Give less, get more. If you have to give, give it only as a bait.

Lust is absolutely a bargain. yes, you have to give something, because you want to get - but get more and give less. That is what the business mind is. If you can get without giving, good. If you cannot get without giving, then give a little bit, pretend that you are giving very much, and snatch the whole from the other.

Exploitation is what lust is. Love is not exploitation. So compassion is not love in the ordinary sense, and yet it is love in its real sense. Compassion only gives, it knows no idea of getting back. Not that it does not get back, no - never think that for a single moment. When you give without any idea of getting, you get a thousandfold. But that is another thing; that has nothing to do with you. And when you want to get too much, in fact you are only deceived; you don't get anything. Fin ally, you are only disillusioned.

Each love affair ends in a disillusionment. Have you not observed it, that each love affair finally leaves you in a ditch of sadness, depression, of being cheated? Compassion knows no disillusionment, because compassion does not start with an illusion. Compassion never asks for any return, there is no need. First, 'Because it is not my energy that I am giving, it is god's energy.

who am I to ask anything for it?' Even to ask for a thank-you is meaningless.

That's what happened when a man came to Jesus and Jesus touched him and he was cured. And the man thanked Jesus - naturally, he was in tremendous gratitude. He had been suffering from that disease for years and there was no cure and the physicians had told him that 'Now nothing can be done, you have to accept it.' And he is cured.

And Jesus says, 'No sir, don't be thankful towards me, be thankful towards God. It is something that has happened between you and God! I am nobody in it. It is your faith that has healed you, and it is God's energy that has become available because of your faith. I am, at the most, a bridge - a bridge through which God's energy and your faith have joined hands. You need not be worried about me, you need not be thankful to me. Thank God. Thank your own faith. Something has transpired between you and God. I come nowhere.'

This is what compassion is. Compassion goes on giving, but knows no feeling of giving, knows no feeling that 'I am the giver'. And then existence goes on responding in thousands of ways. You give a little love and from everywhere love starts flowing. The man of compassion is not trying to snatch away, he is not greedy. He does not wait for the return, he goes on giving. He goes on getting - but that is not in his mind.

So, the second thing: compassion is not the so-called love, and yet it is the real love.

The third thing: compassion is intelligence but not intellect. When intelligence is freed of all forms, of all logical forms, when intelligence is freed from all argumentation, when intelligence is freed from the so-called rationality - because rationality is a confinement - when intelligence is freedom, it is compassion. A man of compassion is tremendously intelligent, but he is not an intellectual. He can see through and through, he has absolute vision, he has real eyes to see, nothing is hidden to him - but it is not guesswork. It is not through logic, it is not through inference, it is through clear eyesight.

Remember it: the man of compassion is not unintelligent, but he is non-intellectual. He is tremendous intelligence, he is the very embodiment of intelligence. He is pure radiance. He knows - but he does not think. What is the point of thinking when you know? You think only as a substitute.

Because you don't know, hence you think. Because you can't know, hence you think. Thinking is a substitute process - it is a poor substitute, remember. When you can know, when you can see, who bothers to think?

The man of compassion knows; the intellectual thinks. The intellectual is a thinker and the man of compassion is a non-thinker, non-intellectual. Intelligence he has, tremendous intelligence he has, but his intelligence does not function through the pattern of intellect. The intelligence functions intuitively.

And the fourth thing: compassion is not feeling - because feeling has many things in it which are not in compassion at all. Feeling has sentimentality, emotionality - those things don't exist in compassion. The man of compassion feels, but without any emotion. He feels, but there is no sentimentality. He will do whatsoever is needed, yet he remains untouched by it. This has to be understood very deeply. And once you understand compassion, you have understood what a Buddha is.

Somebody is suffering: the man of feeling will start crying. Crying is not going to help. Somebody's house is on fire: the man of feeling will shout and cry and beat his chest. That is not going to help. The man of compassion will start moving - he will not cry, that is pointless. Tears don't help.

Tears cannot put the fire off, tears cannot become the medicine for the suffering, tears cannot help a drowning man.

A man is drowning and you are standing on the bank and crying and weeping - and crying and weeping really hard. You are a man of feeling, certainly, but not a man of compassion. The man of compassion acts. The man of compassion immediately jumps into action. His action is immediate; he does not waver for a single moment. His action is instant - the moment something arises in his vision he immediately translates it into action. Not that he exactly translates - it is translated. His understanding and his action are two aspects of the same phenomenon, they are not two separate things. One side of it is called understanding, the other side of it is called the act.

That's why I say a religious man is by his very nature involved, committed - committed to life, committed to God. He will not cry and weep. The man of feeling sometimes appears as if he is the man of compassion. Don't be misguided - the man of feeling is of no use. In fact he will create more mess. He will not be of any help, he will create more confusion. He will delay things rather than being a help.

The man of compassion is sharp. Without tears, without emotions, he simply moves into action. He is not cold, but neither is he hot. He is simply warm. And cool. That is the paradox of the man of compassion. He is warm, because he is loving, and yet he keeps his cool. His cool is never lost; whatsoever happens he remains cool, and out of his coolness he acts. And because he remains cool, he helps.

These four things to be understood, then you have a vision from four dimensions of what compassion is. How does this compassion arise? - because it cannot be cultivated. If you cultivate, it becomes kindness. How has this compassion to be brought into life? You cannot go into the scriptures, you cannot read and be helped by what Buddha and Christ say - because that will bring intellect in, it will not bring intelligence.

You cannot go on loving more and more, the way you have been loving up to now. If you move in the same direction you will not attain to compassion. Your love is not in the right direction. If you go on loving in the same way - if you listen to a Buddha talking about love, or a Christ talking about love, and you think, 'Good. So I have to love more, the way I have been loving up to now' - then your quantity will be more but your quality will remain the same. You will go in the same direction.

Your direction is basically wrong. You have not loved. Once this thing sinks deep into your heart, that 'I have not loved yet'.... Yes, it is very terrible to feel that 'I have not loved yet' - it is very very hard. We can believe others have not loved - that's what we already believe . Nobody has loved you - that's okay, people are hard. But to see that you have not loved shatters your ego.

That's why people don't want to see that simple fact that 'I have not loved yet.' And because they don't want to see, they don't see. And because they don't see, they are never going to be transformed. They will go on moving in the same rut; they will go on repeating the same mechanical thing again and again. And again and again they will be disillusioned.

So how to bring compassion in? If it was just your love you could have run in the same direction - to run faster, with more speed and more quantity, would be the right thing to do. But you are not in the right direction. So if you go faster, you will be going faster away from it, not towards it. Speed is not going to help, because in the first place you are moving in the wrong direction - it is the direction of lust and desire.

Then how to bring compassion in? And I say it is not feeling either. Otherwise you can cry your heart out, you can beat yourself, you can cry a thousand and one tears for a thousand and one sufferings all around, you can become very emotional. You can feel for everybody in Vietnam, in Korea, in Pakistan, or anywhere; you can feel for all the poor people.

Leo Tolstoy remembers his mother in his memoirs. He says she was a very kind woman, very very kind - 'kind' in the sense I am using it, not in the sense of compassion. She was very kind - so kind that she used to cry in the theater the whole time. They were very rich people, they belonged to royalty. A servant used to be around Leo Tolstoy's mother with many handkerchiefs when she would go to the theater, because she would need them again and again. Crying the whole time.

And Tolstoy says: But I was surprised to see that in Russia, even in winter when the cold would be so much, below zero, and snow would be falling, she would go to the theater - she was a great lover of theater - and the driver of her coach would go on sitting outside the coach in the falling snow.

And almost always it used to happen, the man would die. Because nobody knew when the countess would come out - any moment she would get so much disturbed by the theater that she would run towards home to fall into her bed and cry. So the coachman, the driver, had to be there on the coach and it would happen that he would get so cold that he would die. And when she would come out the driver would be thrown away, replaced by another man, and she would go on. And she would never think about this man, who had simply died there for no reason. And she would go on crying tears for something she had seen in the theater.

Sentimental people, emotional people. It costs nothing to cry, it costs nothing to feel. It costs much to be compassionate, it costs your whole life to be compassionate. A man of compassion is a very realistic man. The man of feeling simply lives in dreams, vague emotions, fantasies.

So it cannot be brought through feeling, either. Then how to bring it? What is the Zen way to bring it?

To bring it, the only way is meditation. It is attained through meditation. So we have to understand what meditation is.

Gautam Buddha, the founder of Zen, the founder of all great meditative techniques in the world, defines it in one word. Somebody asked him one day, 'Bhagwan, what is meditation? What is it all about?' And Gautam Buddha said a single word, he said: HALT! That was his definition of meditation. He says, 'If it halts, it is meditation.' The full sentence is: 'The mad mind does not halt.

If it halts, it is meditation.'

'The mad mind does not halt. If it halts, it is meditation.' Meditation is a state of thoughtless awareness: Meditation is a state of non-emotional, non-sentimental, non-thinking awareness. When you are simply aware, when you become a pillar of awareness. When you are simply awakened, alert, attentive. When you are just a pure awareness.

How to enter into it? The Zen people have a special word for the entry, they call it HUA T'OU. This Chinese word means ante-thought, or ante-word. The mind, before it is stirred by a thought, is called HUA T'OU. Between two thoughts there is a gap, that gap is called HUA T'OU.

Watch. One thought passes on the screen of your mind - on the radar screen of your mind one thought passes like a cloud. First it is vague - it is coming, it is coming - then it is there suddenly on the screen. Then it is moving, then it has gone out of the screen, again it becomes vague and disappears... another thought comes. Between these two thoughts there is a gap - for a single moment or a split second the screen is without any thought.

That state of pure no-thought is called HUA T'OU - ante-words, ante-thought, before the mind is stirred. Because we are not alert inside, that's why we go on missing it - otherwise meditation is happening each moment. You have just to see it happening, you have just to become aware what treasure you are carrying always within you. It is not that meditation has to be brought from somewhere else. The meditation is there, the seed is there. You have just to recognize it, nurture it, take care of it, and it starts growing.

The interval between two thoughts is HUA T'OU. And that is the door to enter into meditation. HUA T'OU - the word literally means 'word head'. 'Word' is a spoken word, and 'head' is that which precedes the word. HUA T'OU is the moment before a thought arises. As soon as a thought arises it becomes a HUA WEI - HUA WEI literally means 'word tail'. And then when the thought has gone or the word has gone and there is a gap again, it is again HUA T'OU. Meditation is looking into this HUA T'OU.

'One should not be afraid of rising thoughts, ' says Buddha, 'but only of the delay in being aware of them.' This is a tremendously new approach towards the mind, never attempted before Buddha.

Buddha says one should not be afraid of rising thoughts. One should only be afraid of one thing - of not being aware of them, of being delayed in awareness.

When a thought arises, if with the thought your awareness is also there - if you can see it arising, if you can see it coming, if you can see it there, if you can see it going - then there is no problem at all. This very seeing, by and by, becomes your citadel. This very awareness brings you many fruits.

You can first see, when you see that you are not the thought. Thought is separate from you, you are not identified with it. You are consciousness and it is content. It comes and goes - it is a guest, you are the host. This is the first experience of meditation.

Zen talks about two words: FOREIGN DUST. 'And this is just where we would begin our training.'

Zen says, 'For instance, a traveller stops at an inn where he passes the night or takes his meal. And as soon as he has done so, he packs and continues his journey, because he has no time to stay longer. As for the host of the inn, he has nowhere to go.

'The deduction is that the one who does not stay is the guest, and the one who does stay is the host. Therefore, a thing is foreign when it does not stay. Again, in a clear sky when the sun rises and sunlight enters the house through an opening, the dust is seen moving in the ray of light - whereas the empty space is unmoving. Therefore that which is still is voidness, and that which moves is dust. Foreign dust illustrates false thinking and voidness illustrates self-nature - that is, the permanent host who does not follow the guest in the latter's coming and going.'

This is a great insight. Consciousness is not the content. You are consciousness: thoughts come and go, you are the host. Thoughts are the guests - they come and stay for a while, take a little rest, or their food, or stay overnight, and then they are gone. You are always there. You are always the same, you never change you are eternally there. You are eternity itself.

Watch it. Sometimes you are ill, sometimes you are healthy, sometimes you are depressed, sometimes you are happy. One day you were very very small, a child, then you became young, and then you became old. One day you were strong; one day comes, you become weak. All these things come and go, but your consciousness remains the same. That's why, if you look inside, you cannot reckon how old you are - because there is no age. If you go inside and look and try to find out there how old you are, there is no age, because there is no time. You are exactly the same as when you were a child or when you were young. You are absolutely the same inside.

For age you have to look at the calendar, at the diary, at your birth certificate - you have to look for something outside. Inside you will not find any age or aging. Inside there is timelessness. You remain the same - whether there is a cloud called depression or the cloud called happiness, you remain the same.

Sometimes there are black clouds in the sky - the sky does not change because of those black clouds. And sometimes there are white clouds also, and the sky does not change because of those white clouds. Clouds come and go, and the sky remains. Clouds come and go, and the sky abides.

You are the sky and thoughts are the clouds. The first thing, if you watch your thoughts minutely, if you don't miss them, if you look at them directly, will be this understanding - and this is a great understanding This is the beginning of your Buddhahood, this is the beginning of your awakening.

You are no more asleep, you are no more identified with the clouds that come and go. Now you know you abide for ever.

Suddenly all anxiety disappears. Nothing changes you, nothing will ever change you - so what is the point of being anxious, in anguish? What is the point of being worried? No worry can do anything to you - these things come and go, they are just ripples on the surface. Deep in your depth, not a single ripple ever arises. And you are there, and you are that. You are that being. Zen people call it the state of being a host.

Ordinarily, you have become too much attached with the guests - hence your misery. One guest comes, you become too much attached. And then the guest is packing and is leaving, and then you cry and you weep and you run around and you go with him - at least to see him off, to give him a send-off. And then you come crying and crying - one guest has left and you feel so miserable.

And another guest comes and again you fall in with the guest, again you become identified with the guest, and again he is going.

Guests come and go, they don't stay! They can't stay, they are not to stay, they are not MEANT to stay.

Have you watched any thought? It never stays, it cannot stay. Even if you want to make it stay, it cannot stay. Try. That's what people try sometimes - they try to keep one word in the mind. For example, they want to keep one sound AUM in the mind. For a few seconds they remember, and then it is gone, slipped. Again they are thinking of their market, of their wife, of their children....

Suddenly they become aware - where is that AUM? It has slipped .

Guests are guests - they have not come to stay there. Once you see that all that happens to you is going to move away from you, then why be worried? Watch: let them be there, let them pack, let them leave. You remain. Can you see the peace that arises if you can feel that you always abide?

This is silence. This is an unworried state. This is non-anguish. Suffering ceases the moment identification ceases. Don't get identified - that's all. And if you can watch somebody who lives in such eternal timelessness, you will feel a grace, a coolness, a beauty, around him.

It happened - the story is about Buddha, a beautiful story. Listen to it carefully, because you can miss it.

One day, at mealtime, the World Honoured One put on his robe, took his bowl and entered the great town of Sravasti to beg for his food. After he had begged from door to door, he returned to his place.

When he had taken his meal, he put away his robe and bowl, washed his feet, arranged his seat, and sat down.

Go slowly, as if the film is moving very slowly. It is a Buddha film, and Buddha films move very slowly.

Again, let me repeat it...

One day, at mealtime, the World Honoured One put on his robe, took his bowl and entered the great town of Sravasti to beg for his food. After he had begged from door to door, he returned to his place.

When he had taken his meal, he put away his robe and bowl, washed his feet, arranged his seat, and sat down.

Visualize Buddha doing all this and then sitting down on his seat.

This shows the Buddha's ordinary life and daily activities which were similar to those of others and had nothing special about them. There is, however, something which is uncommon, but very few know it.

What is that? What is that uncommon unique quality? - because Buddha is doing ordinary things.

Washing his feet, arranging his seat, sitting down, putting away his robe, putting away his bowl, going to bed, coming back - ordinary things everybody is doing.

At the time, one of Buddha's disciples - a great disciple - Subhuti, who was in the assembly, rose from his seat, uncovered his right shoulder, knelt upon his right knee, respectfully joined the palms of his hands and said to the Buddha: 'It is very rare, O World Honoured One! It is very rare!'

Now, nothing rare seems to be there on the surface. Buddha coming, putting away his robe, putting away his bowl, arranging his seat, washing his feet, sitting on the seat - there seems to be nothing unusual. And this man, Subhuti....

Subhuti is one of the most insightful disciples of Buddha - all great beautiful stories about Buddha are concerned with Subhuti. This is one of those stories, very rare.

At the time, the elder Subhuti, who was in the assembly, rose from his seat, uncovered his right shoulder, knelt upon his right knee, respectfully joined the palms of his hands and said to the Buddha: 'It is very rare, O World Honoured One, it is very rare!' Never seen before, it is unique.

The Tathagata's daily activities were similar to those of other men but there was here one thing which was different, and those who sat face to face with him did not see it. That day, suddenly Subhuti uncovered it, praised it, and said: 'Very rare! Very rare!'

Alas! The Tathagata had been thirty years with his disciples and they still did not know anything about his common acts of daily life. As they did not know, they thought these acts were ordinary and let them pass unnoticed. They thought only that he was similar to others and were, therefore, suspicious of and did not believe what he said. Had Subhuti not seen clearly, no one would really know the Buddha.

So say the scriptures.

If there was not a Subhuti, nobody would have seen what was happening inside. What was happening inside? Buddha remains the host. Not for a single moment does he lose his eternity, timelessness. Buddha remains meditative. Not for a single moment does he lose his HUA T'OU.

Buddha remains in his SAMADHI - even when he is washing his feet, he is washing so alertly, so aware, so consciously. Knowing well that 'These feet are not me.' Knowing well that 'This bowl is not me.' Knowing well that 'This robe is not me.' Knowing well that 'This hunger is not me.' Knowing well that 'All that is around me is not me. I am just a witness, a watcher of it all.'

Hence the grace of Buddha, hence this unworldly beauty of Buddha. He remains cool. This coolness is what meditation is. It has to be attained by being more alert of the host, by being more alert of the guest, by getting disidentified with the guest, by disconnecting yourself from the guest. Thoughts come and go, feelings come and go, dreams come and go, moods come and go, climates change.

All that changes is not you.

Is there something that remains unchanging? That's you. And that is God. And to know it, and to be it, and to be in it, is to attain to SAMADHI. DHYANA is the method, meditation is the method, SAMADHI is the goal. DHYANA is the technique to destroy this identification with the guest. And SAMADHI is dissolving into the host, abiding in the host, getting centered there.

This is a Zen saying: 'Each night one embraces a Buddha while sleeping.' The Buddha is always there, the non-Buddha is also there. In you meet the world and NIRVANA, in you meet God and matter, in you meet the soul and the body. In you meet all the mysteries of existence - you are a meeting-place, you are a cross-roads. On one side the whole world, on the other side the whole of God. And you are just a link between the two.

Now, it is only a question of emphasis. If you go on focusing yourself on the world, you remain in the world. If you start changing your focus, if you shift your focus and you start focusing on consciousness, you are God. Just a small change, as if one changes a gear in the car - just like that.

'Each night one embraces a Buddha while sleeping, each morning one gets up again with him.' He is always there, because consciousness is always there; not for a single moment is it lost.

'When rising or sitting, both watch and follow one another.' The host and the guest, both are there.

Guests go on changing, but somebody or other is always there in the inn. It is never empty - unless you become disidentified with the guest. Then an emptiness arises. Then sometimes it happens your inn is empty; there is only the host sitting at ease, not being bothered by any guests. Traffic stops, people don't come. Those moments are of beatitude, those moments are of great blessing.

'Whether speaking or not, both are in the same place.' When you are speaking, there is also something silent in you. When you are lusting, there is something beyond lust. When you are desiring, there is somebody who is not desiring at all. Watch it, and you will find it. Yes, you are very close, and yet you are very different. You meet, and yet you don't meet. You meet like water and oil; the separation remains. The host comes very close to the guest. Sometimes they hold hands and hug each other, but still the host is the host and the guest is the guest. The guest is one who will come and go; the guest will go on changing. And the host is one who remains, who abides.

'They never even for a single moment part, but are like the body and its shadow. If you wish to know the Buddha's whereabouts, in the sound of your own voice there is he.' Don't go on looking for the Buddha somewhere outside. He resides in you - he resides in you as the host.

Now, how to come to this state of the host? I would like to talk to you about a very ancient technique; this technique will be of tremendous help. To come to this unknowable host, to come to this ultimate mystery of your being, this is the way - one of the very simple ways Buddha has proposed.

'Deprive yourself of all possible relationships, and see what you are. Suppose you are not a son to your parents, nor the husband to your wife, nor the father to your children, nor a relative to your kindred, nor a friend to your acquaintances, nor a citizen to your country, and so on and so forth - then you get you-in-yourself.'

Just disconnect. Some time once a day, sit silently and disconnect yourself of all connections. Just as you disconnect the phone, disconnect yourself of all connections. Don't think any more that you are a father to your sons - disconnect. You are no more a father to your son, and you are no more a son to your father. Disconnect that you are a husband or a wife; you are no more a wife, no more a husband. You are no more a boss, no more a servant. You are no more black, no more white.

You are no more Indian, no more Chinese, no more German. You are no more young, no more old.

Disconnect, go on disconnecting.

A thousand and one connections are there - just go on disconnecting all the connections. When you have disconnected all the connections, then suddenly ask: Who am l? And no answer comes - because you have already disconnected all those answers that would have come.

Who am I? And an answer comes, 'I am a doctor' - but you have disconnected with the patients.

An answer comes, 'I am a professor' - but you have disconnected yourself from your students. An answer comes, 'I am Chinese' - but you have disconnected it. An answer comes, 'I am a man or a woman' - but you have disconnected it. An answer comes, 'I am an old man' - but you have disconnected it.

Disconnect all. Then you ARE in yourself. Then for the first time the host is alone and there is no guest. It is very good sometimes to be alone without any guest, because then you can see into your hostness more closely, more carefully. The guests create turmoil, the guests create noise, and they come and demand your attention. And they say, 'Do this, and hot water is needed, and where is the breakfast? and where is my bed? and there are bed bugs'... and a thousand and one things. And the host starts running after the guest. Yes, of course, you have to take care of these people.

When you are completely disconnected, nobody bothers you - nobody can bother you. Suddenly you are there in all your aloneness - and that purity of aloneness, that pristine purity of aloneness.

You are like virgin land, the virgin peak of a Himalaya where nobody has ever travelled. This is what virginity is.

This is what I mean when I say, 'Yes, Jesus' mother was a virgin.' This is what I mean. I don't agree with Christian theologians - whatsoever they say is all bull. This is what virginity is - Jesus must have been conceived by Mary when she was in such a disconnected state. When you are in such a disconnected state, of course if a child enters he can only be a Jesus, nobody else.

In ancient India there were methods for how to conceive a child. Unless you are tremendously in deep meditation, don't make love. Let meditation be a preparation for love: that is the whole meaning of tantra. Let meditation be the basis - only then make love. Then you invite greater souls. The deeper you are, the greater soul will be invited.

Mary must have been absolutely disconnected in that moment when Jesus penetrated her. She must have been in this virginity; she must have been a host. She was no more a guest and she was no more clamoured at by the guest and no more identified with the guest. She was not the body, she was not the mind, she was not her thoughts, she was not a wife, she was nobody. In this nobodiness she was there, sitting silently - a pure light, a flame without any smoke around it, a smokeless flame.

She was virgin.

And I say to you, exactly the same is the case when Buddha is conceived or when Mahavira is conceived, or Krishna is conceived or Nanak is conceived - because these people cannot be conceived in any other way. These people can enter only the most virgin womb. But this is my meaning of being a virgin. It has nothing to do with the foolish ideas that go around - that she never loved a man, that Jesus was not conceived with a man, that Jesus was not the son of Joseph.

That's why Christians go on saying: 'Jesus the son of Mary.' They don't talk about his father; he was not a father. Son of Mary and son of God - there was no Joseph in-between. But why be so angry about poor Joseph? Why can't God use Joseph too, if he can use Mary? What is wrong in it? He uses Mary for the womb - that does not spoil the story. Then why not use Joseph too? The womb is half the story, because one egg from the mother has been used. Then why not use another egg from Joseph? Why be so angry at this poor carpenter?

No, God uses both. But the state of consciousness must have been of the host. And really, when you are the host there is no wonder if you receive the greatest guest: Jesus comes in. If you are disidentified from all the guests, then God becomes your guest. First you become the host, pure host. Then God becomes your guest.

When you are disconnected... you-in-yourself. Now ask yourself: What is this 'you-in-yourself'?

You can never answer this question - it is unanswerable, because it is cut off from all knowable relationships. This way one stumbles upon the unknowable; this is entering into meditation. When you have become settled into it, utterly settled, it becomes SAMADHI.

Now this story. Now you will be able to understand this story easily.

It was a meditation camp, a meditation session, so you have to understand what meditation is.

That's why I went into meditation so deeply - otherwise you would miss the whole point of the story.

These stories are no ordinary stories, they need a great background. Unless you understand what meditation is, you will read, 'When Bankei held his seclusion-weeks of meditation' - but you will not understand.

Those pupils are also here - they are always everywhere, because man is so money-minded. And don't think that the one who was stealing was very much different from those from whom he was stealing; they were all in the same boat. Both are money-minded. One has the money, one does not have the money - that is the difference. But both are money-minded.

Why did he ignore the case? Because both are money-minded. Both are thieves - one thief trying to take things away from another thief, that's all.

In this world, if you hoard something you become a thief, if you have something you become a thief. There are two kinds of thieves in the world: one, respectable thieves, recognized by the state, sanctioned by the state, registered by the state, licensed by the state - and another, unlicensed people doing it on their own. Illegal stealing and legal. The legal ones are the respected ones; the illegal ones of course are not respected, because they go against the rules.

Those people who are very clever never go against the rules, they find out ways through the rules.

But there are a few people who are not so clever. Seeing that if they follow these rules they will never have anything, they drop the rules and they start doing illegal things. But everybody is a money maniac. That's why Bankei ignored the case.

He knows that both are in the same boat; there is not much difference.

You will be surprised to know that when a man succeeds in his criminal acts, he becomes respectable. Only if he fails, then he becomes a criminal. The successful robbers become kings, and the unsuccessful kings become robbers. It is only a question of who succeeds. If you are powerful, you are a great emperor. Now what is this Alexander, the great Alexander? A great robber - but he succeeded.

Your so-called politicians are all robbers. They try to destroy other robbers - they may be against smuggling, they may be against dacoitry, they may be against this and that. But deep down they are the greatest smugglers, the greatest dacoits. But they do things legally - or at least they manage to show that they are doing things legally. And they succeed - at least while they are in power. When the power goes, then all those beautiful stories about them simply disappear.

Once a politician is deposed, he becomes an ugly phenomenon. He may be a Richard Nixon or she may be an Indira Gandhi. Once a politician is deposed, once the power is gone, once the power is no more there to protect you, then everything becomes exposed. If you know how a person has become rich then you will not be able to respect him. But if the person is really rich he can manage to keep people silent. And then people have a very very small memory - they forget.

I was reading in some history book that twenty persons were expelled from England; they were sea robbers. And what happened after thirty years? Of all those twenty persons, a few of them went to Australia, and a few of them went to America. A few of them had become governors in America, a few of them had become bankers, great bankers, a few of them had become great landlords in Australia - all twenty had become very very respectable people. And they had founded great houses - all the great American houses belong to them.

That's why the master ignored. He didn't pay much attention, he didn't take any note of it. It's okay, this is how things go in the world. One who is not money-minded will ignore.

Now, these people were not there to meditate at all. If you have come to meditate, you understand a few requirements - that you have to grow into less money-mindedness, that you have to attain a certain detachedness from all your possessions. That it does not matter much that somebody has taken a few rupees - that it doesn't matter much, that it is not such a life-and-death affair. That you have to understand how the mind functions, how people are money-minded.

You are against the thief because he has taken YOUR money. But how was it yours? You must have taken it from somebody else in some other way - because nobody comes with money into the world, we all come empty-handed. So all that we possess we must be possessing, claiming, as our own. Nothing belongs to anybody. If a person has really come to meditate, this will be his attitude - that nothing belongs to anybody. He should start having less and less attachment to things.

But these people were money-minded. And when you are money-minded, naturally politics comes in. When they saw that the thief had been ignored twice, they must have thought, 'What kind of master is this? It seems he is in favour of the thief!' They could not understand why he is ignoring.

He is ignoring just to show them that they have to drop their money-mindedness. Yes, his stealing is bad, but their money-mindedness is not good either.

When they saw that twice they had been ignored, they grew angry. They DREW UP A PETITION - politics comes in immediately, protest, petition - ASKING FOR THE DISMISSAL OF THE THIEF, STATING THAT OTHERWISE THEY WOULD LEAVE IN A BODY.

Now, they were not there to meditate at all. If they were really there to meditate, their approach towards this problem would have been totally different. They would have felt a little more compassion for this man, for his lust for money. If they were real meditators they would have contributed some money and given it to this man - 'You please keep this money, rather than stealing.' That would have been an indication that they were there to meditate, to be transformed.

But now they drew up a petition asking for the dismissal of the thief. Not only that - with a threatening, that if he is not thrown out they will leave in a body.

You cannot threaten a master like Bankei.

Many things have to be understood. When the master says, 'You are wise brothers' he is simply ridiculing, he is simply hitting them hard. He is not saying, 'You are wise,' he is saying, 'You are utter fools.' But all fools think themselves wise. In fact, to think oneself wise is one of the basic requirements of being a fool. Wise people think they are not wise. Foolish people always think they are wise.

Now, these are all fools. They were not there to possess money, they were not there to have money - they were there to have something greater, something far higher. They have forgotten all about it.

In fact, this man has given them an opportunity to see. If they were real meditators they would have gone to this man and thanked him - 'You have given us an opportunity to see how much we cling to money. How much you have disturbed us! We have completely forgotten all about meditation, we have forgotten for what we have come here. We have forgotten this master Bankei.'

They may have travelled for hundreds of miles, or thousands even - China is a big country. They must have travelled for months, because in those days travel was not so easy. They had come, they had heard about this master and they had come from long faraway places to study meditation with him. And somebody steals, and they have forgotten all. All that? They should have thanked the thief: 'You have brought something into our consciousness - some mad attachment to money has bubbled up, has surfaced.'

When Bankei says, 'You are wise brothers,' he is joking. He is saying, 'You are utter fools. But you think you are very wise, you think you know what is right and what is wrong. You have even been trying to teach me what is right and what is wrong. You are telling me, "You throw this man out, otherwise we will leave." You are trying to dictate terms to me. You think you know what is right and what is wrong? Then you can go anywhere - because you are so wise, you will be able to learn anywhere. But where will this man go? he is such a fool!'

See the point, the irony of it. The master says he is a fool and he is a poor fellow - THIS POOR BROTHER. Remember, the righteousness of the righteous is never very right. The people who think they are right are almost all stupid people. Life is so complex and life is so subtle that you cannot decide so easily that you are right and somebody else is wrong. In fact, a man who has a little understanding will see that he never falls into the trap of being righteous.

Jesus says to his disciples: 'The righteousness of the righteous is not enough - something is missing in it.' Now they think they know what is right and what is wrong, and this man has committed wrong, and the master has to throw him out. And if the master does not throw him out then the master is also wrong. Now they are too much into their wisdom - they think they know.

This is not the way to be near a master. They don't see the master's compassion, they don't see the master's meditation. They don't see that the master has become a Buddha - Bankei is one of the great masters of Zen. They don't see who is present before them, and they are protesting against him and they are threatening him.

Man is so foolish, he has done all kinds of foolish things down the ages. And the greatest foolish things have been committed whenever there is a Buddha - because you cannot understand, you cannot see who is confronting you. You go on in your childish and juvenile ways; you go on talking nonsense.

Bankei says, 'YOU ARE WISE BROTHERS, YOU KNOW WHAT IS RIGHT AND WHAT IS NOT RIGHT. YOU MAY GO SOMEWHERE ELSE TO STUDY IF YOU WISH, BUT THIS POOR BROTHER DOES NOT EVEN KNOW RIGHT FROM WRONG. WHO WILL TEACH HIM IF I DO NOT? So you go, and I will keep him and I will teach him. I AM GOING TO KEEP HIM HERE EVEN IF ALL THE REST OF YOU LEAVE.'

Sometimes it happens that the man who thinks he is right is more difficult to teach than the man who thinks that he is not right. It is easier to teach a criminal than to teach a saint. It is easier to teach a man who feels deep down that he is doing something wrong - because he is ready to learn.

He himself wants to get rid of this state. But a man who thinks 'I am doing right' - he does not want to get rid of this state, he is perfectly happy with it. It is impossible to change him.

Why does the master say, 'You all can go and I am going to keep this one man, this poor brother'?

Why? Because this poor brother has a possibility, a potentiality.

It happened that one man, a great criminal, a murderer, a sinner, came to be initiated by Buddha.

When he came he was afraid that people might not allow him entry, the disciples might not allow him to see Buddha. So he came at such a time when there were not too many people. And he didn't enter from the main gate, he jumped from a wall.

But by chance Buddha was not there - he had gone begging - and he was caught. And he said to the disciples, 'I have not come to steal or anything, I was just afraid that you wouldn't allow me through the main gate. Everybody knows me, I am a well-known figure around here. I am the most hated and feared man around here, everybody knows me. So you might not allow me, you might not believe that I want to become a sannyasin.'

So they took him to one of Buddha's great disciples, Sariputra - who was a great astrologer too, and who had a capacity, a telepathic capacity, to read people's past lives. So they asked Sariputra, 'Look into this man. We know that in this life he is a murderer, a sinner, a thief, and he has done all kinds of things. But maybe he has earned some virtue, some PUNYA, in his past lives - maybe that's why he wants to become a sannyasin. Just look into his past lives.'

And Sariputra looked into his eighty thousand past lives... and he was always the same! Even Sariputra started trembling, seeing this man. He is so dangerous - eighty thousand times a murderer, a criminal, always a sinner. He is an ESTABLISHED sinner! It is impossible - any change in this man is not possible. Even Buddha cannot do anything.

Sariputra said, 'Throw this man out, and take him away immediately - because even Buddha will be a failure with this man. He is an established sinner. Just as Buddha is an established Buddha, he is an established sinner. Eighty thousand lives I have seen, and I cannot go beyond that. Enough is enough!'

So the man was turned out. He felt so hurt, that there is no chance for him. Alive, he cannot be around Buddha. so he wanted to commit suicide. So just at the main gate around the corner he went to the wall and was going to hit his head against the stone wall to kill himself. And Buddha comes after his begging. And he sees that man, and he stops that man, and he takes him inside, and he initiates him.

And the story says that within seven days he became an ARHAT - within seven days he became an enlightened man. Now, everybody was very much puzzled. Sariputra went to Buddha and he said, 'What is this? Is all my astrology nonsense? And I looked into this man's eighty thousand lives! If this man can become enlightened in seven days, then what is the point of looking into people's past lives? Then it is all absurd. How can it happen?'

And Buddha said, 'You looked into his past, but you didn't look into his future. And the past is past!

Any moment a man decides to change, he can change - the very decision is decisive. And when a man has lived eighty thousand lives of misery, he knows, and he hankers to change, and his intensity to change is infinite. Hence, in seven days....

'Sariputra, you have not yet become enlightened. You are a good man, you have good lives - you don't feel so much burdened with your past. You have a kind of righteousness around yourself. You have been a brahmin for many lives, a scholar, a respected person. But look at this man. He was burdened in all those eighty thousand lives, and he wanted to get free. He really wanted to get tree.

Hence, the miracle - within seven days he is out. The intensity of his past....'

This is one of the basic things to understand in people's transformation: people who feel guilty are easily transformed. People who feel good, right, are very difficult to transform. Religious people are very difficult to transform, irreligious people are easier to transform. So whenever a religious person comes to me I don't take much note of him. But whenever an irreligious person comes to me I'm really interested. I'm into him, I am with him, I am all for him - because there is a possibility.

That's why Bankei says:

And in that shower of compassion from the master, the thief is no more a thief, he is utterly cleansed.

He started crying, and those tears cleansed his heart. A TORRENT OF TEARS CLEANSED THE FACE OF THE BROTHER WHO HAD STOLEN, AND ALL DESIRE TO STEAL HAD VANISHED.

This is the miracle of the presence of a master. And the story does not say anything about what happened to all those political people. This is the mystery of life. Never feel righteous, and never pretend that you are right - never get hooked into that idea. And never think about somebody else that he is wrong. Because both those things go together - if you feel yourself right, you are always condemning others and thinking somebody is wrong.

Never condemn anybody, and never go on praising yourself, otherwise you will miss. Accept howsoever people are. That is the way they are. And who are you to decide whether they are right or wrong? If they are wrong they suffer, if they are right they are blessed. But who are you to condemn?

Your condemnation brings a certain ego in you. That's why people talk too much about others'

wrongness - it gives a feeling that they are right. Somebody is a murderer, and they have a good feeling: 'I am not a murderer - at least I am not a murderer.' And somebody is a thief, and they again feel good: 'I am not a thief.' And so on, so forth, their ego goes on strengthening. People talk about others' sins and about others' crime and others'.... All the wrong that goes on in others' lives, people go on talking about it. They exaggerate it. And they enjoy it - it all gives them a feeling that 'I am good.' But this feeling will become the barrier.

Be compassionate, be intelligent, be loving. Look at others with no judgement. And never start feeling righteous, never start feeling a kind of holiness. Never become a His Holiness or Her Holiness. Never.

Remain ordinary, remain nobody. And in your nobodiness comes the ultimate guest... in your nobodiness you become the host.