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for it, then you will not waste a single moment in postponing it. You will postpone everything else, but you will meditate. You postpone only that which is not significant to you, or, you are playing with yourself, being cunning with yourself. One part of your mind says, "Yes, it is important." Another part of mind says, "Yes, it is important, I know; that's why tomorrow we will start." You are satisfied.
A man challenged by his good friend as to who was the more energetic person: the first said he got up at six, went for a walk, breakfasted at eight, did an hour's work, then to the office, half an hour for lunch, and so on. The detailed work and alternating exercise stretched out till eleven p.m.
"Well," said the friend, "how long have you been doing this?"
"I start on Monday."
God is always postponed, love is always postponed, meditation is always postponed. Anger, greed, hatred, never; the devil, never. When the devil invites you, you are IMMEDIATELY ready. Immediately, instantly you stand up. You say, "I'm coming!" When somebody insults you, you don't say that "Tomorrow I will be angry"; but for love you always go on postponing. For prayer you say, "Yes, it has to be done." This is a very cunning state.
You don't want to recognize the fact that you don't desire prayer, you don't desire love, you don't desire meditation. You don't want to recognize the fact that you don't have any passion for God, so you postpone in this way. You manage well -- you go on doing that which you really desire, and you go on postponing that which you don't desire at all, but you are not courageous enough to recognize the fact. At least be honest. Postponement is dishonest, very dishonest. Watch inside yourself, at what you have been postponing, and you will find that all that is beautiful you have been postponing.
It is a double-bind; you are divided, or you are playing very devilry with yourself.
I have heard....
A rabbi had the misfortune to run his car into the side of Father Murphy's car. He jumped out and went to the other's door, loud with apologies.
"My dear Father Murphy, so sorry I am. Oi vay! that I should be
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