|
Main Index
|
| |
| |
|
| |
we are closed to that happening. Slowly slowly those windows, those doors, become too tightly closed and slowly slowly we forget that they ever existed. We have become focused on doing. The doing can do many things, but not all; and whatsoever can be done by man is bound to be mundane. All that is great only descends. Great poetry is not man-produced: man becomes a vehicle for it. Great works of art are not man-made: it is god working through man, man becomes possessed. Love, meditation, all that is great, all that is sacred, comes only from the beyond. Man is at the receiving end. And to learn it, to be alert about it, is to be a sannyasin.
The sannyasin is not a doer. To be a sannyasin simply means to be in a relaxed state where the mind no longer functions. One is just open, with no defences; one is simply vulnerable, available. One has to become like a dry leaf in the wind: wherever the wind blows, the leaf goes with it. One has to leave oneself to the river of life; and the river is already going to the ocean, you need not swim. You only need to trust and let the river take you.
This is the difference between science and religion. Science is action, religion is inaction. Science is doing, religion is non-doing. Science is male, religion is female. Science is aggressive, religion is receptive. Science tries to conquer, religion surrenders. And the miracle is that the more you try to conquer, the more you are at a loss, and the more you surrender, the more you are victorious.
Amiyo means nectar, elixir. Down the ages man has been searching for it, the whole search of the alchemist was for it: to find something that can make man an immortal. But all those searches have failed, they were bound to fail, because man is already immortal, there is no need for any nectar to make him immortal. At the very core of man's being there is nectar. All search is futile and bound to be frustrated.
Man is deathless, as everything else is. This whole existence is nothing but an ocean of nectar. Nothing ever dies. Death is only a change of garments. One changes bodies, and that is beautiful because one becomes tired of one body. And the body has limitations;
|
|
|
|
| |