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pure poison. It simply kills, it is never creative.
Friendship is a little higher. Prayer is even higher, because in prayer the other is no more thought as a person but as a divine manifestation. He is no more thought of as a body or as a mind. The first love, the biological, thinks of the other as a body. The second love, friendship, thinks of the other as a psychology -- the other is a mind. And the third love, prayer, thinks of the other as divine, godliness. Now all limitations disappear, then the whole existence is a divine manifestation. And that is the state which can be called golden, goldie.
(There is a song that is wordless, tuneless and singerless. Its name is meditation, Osho tells Dhyangit.)
Meditation means no-thought, no-mind, no words. They have all been left behind; one has come to an immense, infinite silence. But that silence is not dead, it is a singing silence. It is throbbing, pulsating with life. It has a dancing quality to it.
You cannot see the dance, you can only feel it. You cannot hear the song but it reverberates in your whole being. Your every cell becomes bathed in it.
It is a tremendous experience of beauty, of bliss -- but it is inexpressible. It is so vast that no word can contain it. The thing that comes closest to it is music, but that too just expresses it approximately, not exactly. Obviously music is also sound -- it is very harmonious sound, but the sound is there. In meditation there is no sound, it is soundlessness. Everything has stopped, no movement, one has come to a complete halt. But the experience can only be described as a song, as a tremendous harmony. All these words fall short but these are the only words that give little bit of help. They are only fingers pointing to the moon. They are not the moon themselves, just fingers pointing to the moon.
But I emphasise its dancing quality for a certain reason -- because many meditators have become dead; they have tried to silence the mind. And if you persist you can silence the mind. You can repress it and there will be a certain kind of silence, but that will be the silence of a cemetery: forced, violently forced. Something has
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