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CHAPTER 6
Only Contemplating Can Know
26 November 1974 am in Chuang Tzu Auditorium
THE STATE OF CONTEMPLATION CANNOT BE EXPRESSED; WHOEVER ATTEMPTS IT WILL AFTERWARDS REPENT. THERE IS NO PAPER, NO PEN, NO WRITER,
THAT CAN PENETRATE SUCH A STATE.
THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW.IT.
THROUGH CONTEMPLATION IS REMEMBRANCE BORN IN MIND AND INTELLECT, AND AWARENESS OF THE UNIVERSE ACQUIRED.
YOU CEASE TO REPENT YOUR WORDS,
AND GAIN FREEDOM FROM THE GOD OF DEATH. THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW.IT.
THROUGH CONTEMPLATION THE PATH IS CLEARED OF ALL OBSTACLES, AND A MAN DEPARTS WITH DIGNITY AND HONOR;
ONE IS SAVED FROM WANDERING ASTRAY,
AND CONNECTION TO RELIGION IS ESTABLISHED. THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH
THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW.IT.
THROUGH CONTEMPLATION ALONE THE DOOR TO LIBERATION IS ATTAINED, AND THE FAMILY CAN BE SAVED;
THROUGH IT THE GURU IS DELIVERED AND HELPS HIS DISCIPLES ACROSS; THEY NEED NO LONGER BEG FOR ALMS.
THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW.IT.
Let us understand what manan, contemplation, means. Thinking and contemplation are both processes of the mind, but they are very different, even opposite.
When a man swims from one bank to the other he remains on the surface of the river. His position changes but not the depth. Now imagine a diver; his position in the water needn’t change at all, but his course is downward, further and further into the depths. Thinking is like swimming and contemplation is like diving. In thinking we go from one thought to another; in contemplation we go into the depths of the one word. The position does not change; the depth changes.
The process of thought is linear; whether you think of your business or your spiritual liberation, thinking of God or of your wife, you remain on the surface. But in contemplation the journey inward begins; you plunge into the very depths of the word. Its deepest recesses resonate.
Contemplation is the only true revelation of the mantra.
Understand well this one word, and the entire sutra opens for you. The quintessence of Nanak’s teaching is contemplation – contemplation of the one name, omkar. Ek omkar satnam. Omkar is the one true name, the only truth. He gave the mantra to his disciples not to be thought about, but to submerge themselves in. As the one word om keeps resounding, the resonance itself increases the depth of the experience.
There are three levels: in the first you pronounce the word out loud – OM... OM... OM.This is
the level of speech. Making use of your lips, speech resounds outside. Then you shut your lips, not even allowing the tongue to move, and you pronounce the name in your mind –
Om... Om... Om... The second level is deeper than the first. You do not make any use of lips or tongue; you do not use the body at all – you use only the mind. On the third level even the mind is not used. Om is not even pronounced. You become silent and listen to the resonance of Om that is already within. The mind is no more; and when it is gone contemplation begins. Contemplation means the absence of mind.
The resonance of Omkar is with you from your very birth. Have you noticed how happy infants are without any apparent reason? They lie in the cradle and throw their little arms and legs about and make cooing sounds. Mothers in India think they are remembering something from their past lives, for there is absolutely no reason for their happiness. Lying in their cribs they have yet to start their journey in life. Psychologists are confounded with the child’s joy, but take it to be the expression of their good health.
Yogis have discovered a different reason altogether, for the well-being of the body is not enough. Within, the child hears the resonance of Omkar, a soft melodious strain. The child hears it and is captivated by it, enchanted by it. Hearing it, the infant smiles and gurgles and feels happy. The child’s health may remain good later on, but the melody within will be lost; this cheerfulness will be gone. Then it will become difficult for the child to hear the Omkar for the layers of words that surround it.
The resonance, ek omkar satnam, is the first happening. In it lies the fountain of life. Then come the words brought about by our education, impressions, society, culture. Then the third level is actually pronouncing words in speaking, conversation and dialogues. While speaking you are actually farthest away from words. Therefore Nanak stresses the necessity of learning how to listen. For when you hear you are in between; you can go either way, towards speech or towards silence.
So there are three states: the state of Omkar, the state of speech, and the in – between state of thoughts and feelings. When you are listening you are in the mid-state of thoughts and feelings. If you begin to tell others what you have heard, you have descended into speech. If you begin to reflect, to contemplate on what you have heard, then you are in contemplation, and you go into the void. The distance is very subtle. Each person has to understand well the distance between the two within himself and provide for the equilibrium.
Contemplation begins as soon as you submerge yourself in any one word. Any word will do but no word is more beautiful than Omkar, because it is pure resonance. The words: Allah, Ram, Krishna can also be used, but there is no need to take big, big names. The English poet, Tennyson, repeated his own name and lost himself in its resonance.
As you enter into the depths of any word, the word gradually gets lost; and as it begins to fade, contemplation sets in. The word is always lost ultimately; all mantras are lost for they are of the mind. The supreme mantra, however, is forever resounding within. The first mantra only helps to bring you into silence, but not into the supreme mantra. Once you are silent you can hear the resonance of Omkar within you.
All mantras teach you to swim and then from swimming they teach you to dive. But how long will you insist on voyaging only on the surface? How long will you go on from one life to the next? How long will you merely keep changing your location, your situations? When will that auspicious moment
arrive when you will take the plunge – from wherever you are? At that very moment contemplation will begin to happen. With this in view, now let us try to understand Nanak’s sutras.
THE STATE OF CONTEMPLATION CANNOT BE EXPRESSED; WHOEVER ATTEMPTS IT WILL AFTERWARDS REPENT.
Why is this so? First of all, contemplation cannot be talked about for there is no movement in contemplation – it is non-movement. The journey does not start; in fact, it ends. It appears like movement.
When you travel by train you see everything rushing past you. In fact it is the train that is moving, and all else is static. In a like manner, because of your habitual movement, when the mind begins to come to a halt, you feel it is a movement. But when the mind stops ultimately, you will suddenly find that everything has stopped, for nothing had moved.
He who is hidden within you has never walked – not even a single step. He has undertaken no journey, not even a pilgrimage. He has not stepped out of His house; He has been there forever.
It is the mind that has always been on the run and its speed is so great that everything around that has never moved appears to be running. When the mind begins to halt they also begin to halt, and when the mind comes to a stop, everything stops with it. While you can talk about movement, how can you speak about non-movement? It is possible to talk about a journey, for you can describe the different places in your travel from one place to another, but if you have gone nowhere what will you talk about? If there has been no happening, no change of situations, what is there to say?
You can write the life story of a restless man, but what can you write about a man of peace? It is the experience of novelists, writers, and dramatists that things come alive only around the bad man. The life of a good man is very dull and uneventful.
Don’t be under the illusion that the Ramayana is the story of Rama; it really revolves around Ravana, the villain. Ravana is the actual hero of the story and Rama is secondary. Remove Ravana and what remains of the story? Sita is not stolen, the battle is not fought – everything is quiet and uneventful. How much is there to say about Rama? Can you write an epic on God? He is where He ever was. There has never been any change in Him – the story just cannot take shape. Therefore there are no biographies or autobiography of God. For to write about someone, a journey is necessary.
You can write a great deal on thoughts; what will you write in connection with no-thought? Whatever you say about it will be false and you will regret it later. Sages always repent after speaking, for they feel they could not say what they wanted to say; and they have said what should not have been said. For what they tried to convey the listener could not follow, and what he understood had no meaning.
Lao Tzu has said, “Nothing can be spoken about Truth.” And whatever is spoken becomes an untruth. The more you know, the more difficult you will find it to express yourself. Each word becomes a challenge to utter for now you possess a touchstone within by which you test; as a result all words seem too shallow and petty to express. A big event has taken place inside which cannot be contained by words, a vast space discovered within that cannot be filled with the capsules of words.
And even if you speak, the regret becomes greater, for by the time your words reach the listener their meaning becomes quite different. Everything that you said gets completely changed – you gave a diamond; it became a stone. The genuine coin you gave, in changing hands became false. As you look within his eyes and see that the coin has become a fake, then you are filled with remorse for this man will now carry it along with him throughout his life.
This is exactly how all sects run, how the crowds of thousands move. They carry the burden of what was never given to them. If Mahavir were to return, he would beat his chest and weep at the state of Jainism; if Buddha returns he will weep for the Buddhists; if Jesus returns the fight will start again with the Israelites, for what each of them said never reached the people for whom it was intended. Something very different was received and digested.
If Nanak were to return he would not be as displeased with others as he would be with the Sikhs, for you can be angry only with those to whom you gave the word; it is they who have distorted it into something quite different.
We are very cunning. When a person like Nanak speaks, we add our meanings to his words, as it suits us. We do not shape ourselves in Nanak’s words; we fashion his words according to ourselves. This is our trick to bring things back to where they were. There are only two ways.
There once was a very rich woman. She was very artistic but also fickle and obstinate. Being fond of an ashtray that was very expensive, she had decorated her room so that it became the focus of the room and everything was made to match: the curtains, the furniture, the walls. The ashtray was the center of everything. One day the ashtray broke. She called the best craftsmen to make an exact replica of the ashtray but try as they would, no one could recreate the original color which was also reproduced everywhere in the room.
One day a craftsman offered his services. He asked for a full month to produce an ashtray to match the original one, but he laid one condition – no one was to enter the room during this month, not even the lady. In a month’s time he invited her to inspect the room. She was completely satisfied.
When the other craftsmen asked him what the secret was, he said, “It was simple. First I made an ashtray as close to the original one as possible, then I painted the walls accordingly.” Impossible as it was to get the exact shade in the ashtray, this was the only way out.
When Nanak speaks there are only two ways open to you: either you merge into Nanak’s color and attain to satisfaction, or else you are bound to become restless. To be near a person like Nanak is like standing next to fire. Either you burn yourself as Nanak burned, you turn into ashes as Nanak did, you lose yourself as Nanak did – like a drop falling into the ocean; or, the only other alternative is to color Nanak’s words in your own shade. This is very easy, for we never actually hear what is told to us, but hear what we want to hear. We infer meanings that suit us. We don’t stand on the side of truth; we make truth stand on our side; we make truth follow us.
The difference between a genuine seeker and a false seeker is that the legitimate seeker follows truth wherever it might take him – whatever be the outcome – even if everything is lost, even if life is lost. He is ready to lose his all. The inauthentic seeker bends truth to follow him; but then it is no longer truth, it is falsity.
How can truth follow you? Only untruth can follow you, for you are false; your shadow is bound to be fake. You can follow truth if you desire, but truth can never follow you; it cannot be contained in your concepts, it is too big for your head. Therefore Nanak says whoever attempts it afterwards repents. There is yet another reason which you should note, that I have mentioned before. When you almost reach contemplation you come to the midpoint from which there are two choices, one of which is to start talking of it to others. In that case you will regret it; therefore, whenever the urge comes to tell others, first consult the guru. Do not trust in your own judgment to talk about it till the guru tells you.
The ways of the ego are very subtle. No sooner do you make one small step than it proclaims great triumph. It gets a fistful and claims to have attained all space! A little glimpse of light and it says the sun has risen. A drop has hardly fallen and you begin talking of the ocean. Then the talk leads to more talk and the result is that even the one drop vanishes, the glimpse dissolves. The result is that the person remains a shallow pundit, full of nothing but knowledge; he seems to know too much. He talks a great deal without any experience. If you observe him carefully you will note that his actions are completely inconsistent with what he says.
Once Mulla Nasruddin was trying to catch a train that had already started moving. He caught hold of the handle and one foot was already in the door when the guard grabbed him saying, “Don’t you know it’s an offense to climb a moving train?” The Mulla climbed down.
Then just as the train was leaving the platform the guard jumped into his compartment. The Mulla promptly pulled him down, saying, “Well, sir, doesn’t the law also apply to you?”
This is exactly the state of the pundit. His statements apply to everyone else. He enjoys the taste of delivering discourses – bereft of the waters of life, unrelated to his own experience and this danger is always there.
When you reach the midpoint you arrive at two paths: one is the path of the pundit, the master of words; and the other is the path of the wise. The path of the pundit leads you to the world outside via words and pronouncements. On the path of the wise you leave the word and immerse yourself completely in no-word. Therefore without the guru’s permission do not go on telling others.
There was a disciple of Buddha by the name of Purna Kashyap who had attained knowing but still followed silently behind Buddha. After a full year Buddha called him and said, “Why do you still follow me like my shadow? Go out into the world and tell others what you have known.” Purna Kashyap replied, “I was awaiting your orders. For what about this mind? It might begin to take pleasure in preaching to others and then I might lose what I have attained only with so much difficulty! I know there is every possibility of the ego’s returning.”
It is very difficult to attain knowledge, very easy to lose it; for the path is very subtle and you can go astray any moment on the slightest excuse. So Purna Kashyap waited, knowing that Buddha would tell him when he was ready to preach to others. Do not set out to teach others before the guru tells you or else you will repent. And the repentance will be great for you were very close to the other shore when you went astray. The boat was just about to cast anchor when the shore receded. Wisdom and learning are the final temptations.
THE STATE OF CONTEMPLATION CANNOT BE EXPRESSED;
WHOEVER ATTEMPTS IT WILL AFTERWARDS REPENT. THERE IS NO PAPER, NO PEN, NO WRITER,
THAT CAN PENETRATE SUCH A STATE.
Who is competent to express this state? For as contemplation goes deeper and deeper, the doer is lost, and the mind begins to end; contemplation is its death.
The mind can speak, the mind can tell. Its expertise lies in explaining what it knows, even telling of things you do not know; and frequent repetition leads you to the illusion that you know. If you keep explaining a thing again and again, you gradually forget whether you have known it or not and begin to feel and believe that you know. Just consider: do you say only things you know or do you also say things you do not know? Do you know whether God is? If not, do not tell anyone that God is. Have you known truth? If not, do not tell others about truth, for the danger is not that others will be deceived, but by constant repetition you yourself will be deluded into the certainty that you know.
This is a very subtle illusion. Once the thought takes hold of you that you know – when you have not known – your boat will never reach the other shore. A man who sleeps can be awakened, but he who pretends to be asleep is hard to awaken. The ignorant can be enlightened, but not a learned man who says he already knows all. Armed with this understanding, avoid the saints and scholars, only go to them when your knowledge gains sufficient strength to protect you. The pundit searches out the ignorant and avoids the sage. If Nanak comes to town the pundits will run away for they are frightened that such a man may lay bare their actual state. He might lift the veil and uncover their ignorance; and this veil is so weak and thin that it tears at the slightest touch.
Where there is no paper nor pen nor even writer, then the state of mind does not exist, and who is to ponder over contemplation?
THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW IT.
That is how it is, but only you will know. Just as a mute cannot explain the taste of sugar, your lips will remain sealed. Every time you think of it there will be a lump in your throat, your heart will become full, so full; tears will flow, or laughter, but you will not be able to say a word. People will think your mind has lost its balance. Your inside will be so overfull that it will pour out of every pore in your body. You will dance, you will sing, but you will not be able to speak. So it was that Nanak sang and Mardana played. Whenever anyone asked Nanak about his state he would look at Mardana and nod. Mardana would pick up his instrument and begin to play, and Nanak would begin to sing. Nanak said nothing, he only sang.
When you hear a sage – if you hear him properly – you will find he is singing, not talking. You will find poetry in his words. Even as he sits he dances. You will find a kind of intoxication in the atmosphere around him, an intoxication that does not lull you to sleep or into senselessness, but rather awakens you. It takes you not into forgetfulness but into wakefulness. And if you are ready to flow along with it, it can carry you to unknown and wonderful shores. If you are really ready to dive down deep into the ocean it can take you on a long astonishing journey – to the ultimate.
The sage’s tune is more melody than words. He speaks less, sings more, for what he has attained cannot be expressed in words. It will perhaps be transmitted by a tune, a low murmur; a slight glimpse and you may get carried away by it.
Gurdjieff defined two kinds of art. In ordinary art the artist, the singer, the sculptor expresses his feelings. Even a great painter like Picasso does no more than capture his state of mind in his work. Gurdjieff calls this subjective art. Objective art includes the Taj Mahal or the Ajanta-Ellora caves. In this the artist does not portray his feelings but creates a condition that elicits certain feelings in the viewer.
There is the statue of Buddha. If it is truly a piece of objective art – which it can be only if the sculptor has known what buddhahood means – then you will find yourself getting connected with it in a mysterious way as you keep looking at it. You will find that you have descended deep within yourself and the idol will become contemplation.
The idols in the temples were not put there without a reason. They are all part of this objective art. Music also was not created accidentally; those who went into samadhi first gave voice to music. Having heard the melody of Om within, in various ways they tried to capture the melody of this resonance in the realm of sound, so that those who know not the music within may get some taste of it. Little children invariably come to the temple in order to partake of the offerings made to the deity. Whatever your reason, there is value in going to the temple. The external sounds of the bells and devotional songs can become a divine gift if they touch off remembrance of the music within.
The deep pleasure in music is a glimpse of samadhi. Dance also is an objective art, thus the tradition of dancing before the deity. Witnessing the dance, your boat may suddenly leave the shore and sail off to distant lands!
One thing you must keep in mind about Nanak is that whatever he has said, he has sung; whatever he wanted to convey, he has conveyed along with music. For the real thing is the music – the nada, the sound. What he says is a mere excuse when his aim is to trigger the resonance within you. If it begins to resound in the right way your thought processes will break and you will find yourself on a different plane of words altogether. If you have gathered enough courage to flow along, if you are not holding on like mad to the shore, then the third happening – contemplation – will also occur.
THERE IS NO PAPER, NO PEN, NO WRITER, THAT CAN PENETRATE SUCH A STATE.
THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW IT.
It is like a dumb man tasting sugar; only he knows the taste. And then – this taste is never forgotten, not only throughout this lifetime but for infinite lives.
Once you get the taste, you find the taste is much more than you – you can never forget it. The taste is so enormous that rather than your containing it, you will be lost in it. It is like the ocean; you will be lost in it like a drop.
In truth how can you taste God? It is rather God who tastes you, provided you are ready. You get immersed in that taste and a harmony, a unison, is formed with the divine: such is the name Niranjan, the faultless one.
THROUGH CONTEMPLATION ALONE IS REMEMBRANCE BORN.
As you get more and more involved in conversation, remembrance decreases. Perhaps you may have realized that. While you are observing yourself most of your troubles drop off; it is only when you begin speaking again that you land yourself in trouble. What happens? When you are speaking remembrance is at its lowest and awareness is almost nil, because in speaking your attention is on the other and not on yourself. Consciousness is like an arrow. When you talk, the arrow is pointed towards the other, so you are conscious of the one you are talking to, and your attention is diverted away from yourself. In this state of your non-awareness of your own self you say things you may regret all your life.
In a moment of non-awareness you tell a woman you love her although you had never thought about it before. On the spur of the moment words fall out of your mouth and now you are caught in the situation; one careless event gives rise to a thousand more. If you try to pluck one leaf, four more appear in its place, and you are propelled on a journey you least wanted.
Though it may never have struck you before, you will find that all your troubles have their origin in words. When one word has been uttered, the ego in its pride makes you fulfill your words. You are in love and you tell your beloved, “I shall love you for ever and ever.” You cannot know what the next moment is going to bring for you. How can you make a promise for the morrow, when you do not even know what is going to happen tomorrow morning, let alone speak of the distant future or of lives to come? If you have even the slightest awareness you would say, “This very moment I am in love with you. About tomorrow I can say nothing.” But then the ego would get no pleasure in that.
Mulla Nasruddin’s wife said to him, “You don’t love me as you did before. Is it because I have become old, or because my body has become sick and clumsy? Have you forgotten your promise before the clergyman that we shall be together in sorrow and in joy?”
The Mulla replied, “Aren’t we together in sorrow and joy? But I had made no promise about old age!”
When today you say ‘forever’ do you realize the implications? If today you declare your love, the rest of your life you will spend fulfilling this promise – a hard task! If you cannot fulfill your word, you will be full of regrets; if you do, you will be thoroughly miserable. For when love has flown away what will you do? Can you bring it back by force? Instead you must invariably weave a web of deceit.
While speaking, it is difficult to be aware of yourself, for on the plane of speech your attention is on the other person. Speaking is all right only for a Buddha, a sage, who by his sadhana has developed the double-pointed arrow, the consciousness that is aware of the other as well as its own self. This consciousness is called surati, remembrance or self-remembering. The mind is capable of looking in both directions simultaneously and it needn’t be lost while talking. While speaking, the witness stands at attention all the time; then no word can possibly cause trouble for you.
There is a Sufi story: The guru sent for his four disciples to practice the sadhana of silence. The four sat in the mosque as evening fell and it began to get dark. No one had yet lit the lamp. As a servant passed by, one of the disciples called out and said, “Brother, light the lamp. Night is coming on.”
The second disciple scolded, “The guru told us not to speak. You have spoken!” The third could not contain himself, “What are you doing? You too have spoken!”
The fourth who had remained quiet now said, “I was the only one to obey the guru. I did not speak until now.”
You may laugh at the story but it is really your own story. If you become silent for a while you will realize how much you long to talk, how you begin an internal dialogue. The slightest excuse and you lose your contemplation.
What is the meaning of the story? As long as no one was around they remembered to observe the silence. As soon as the servant came along, the other was present to attract their attention and all contemplation was lost.
THROUGH CONTEMPLATION ALONE IS REMEMBRANCE BORN.
Remembrance is a beautiful word. It corresponds with Buddha’s right mindfulness. Whatever you do, do it mindfully. Be mindful when you talk, when you walk, even when the eyes blink. Do nothing senselessly, unconsciously; for whatever you do in such a fashion will lead invariably to sin. Whatever you do without awareness leads you away from your self. The only method of coming close to your self is to become more and more aware. Whatever the circumstances, whatever the situation, hold fast and never let go of your awareness – even should you stand to lose everything. Even if your house catches fire, move only with complete awareness.
Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar, the philosopher and social reformer, has given the following account in his memoirs.
He was once invited by the viceroy who was about to confer an honor on him. He was a poor man, his clothes were old and threadbare, and he dressed in the Bengali style of kurta and dhoti. Friends advised him to get new clothes in keeping with the occasion. At first he refused but later thought better of it and let them order new clothes for him.
One day shortly before the event, as Vidyasagar was returning from his evening walk he saw walking in front of him a well-dressed Mohammedan in coat and pajamas, twirling a stick in his hand. He was walking at his own pace enjoying the evening. Soon a man – by all appearances his servant – came running and told him, “Hurry, sir, your house is on fire!” There was no change in the man’s stride; he continued walking along as if nothing had happened. The servant, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard, repeated loudly, “Sir, your house is on fire! Haven’t you heard what I said?”
Even the poor servant, who stood to lose nothing, was trembling and perspiring with fear, but the master remained unaffected. “I have heard,” he told the servant. “Should I change my habitual way of walking just because the house has caught fire?” Ishwar Chandra was shocked. Here is a man whose house is actually on fire, and he is not prepared to change his lifelong walk; and there he was, ready to give up his lifelong attire just to see the viceroy!
Ishwar Chandra was curious to know more about this unique man. As he followed, he saw him walking at the same pace twirling his stick; when he reached the house and saw the flames he
calmly gave orders to put out the fire, directed it all, but himself stood on one side and watched without one iota of difference in his attitude.
Ishwar Chandra writes: “My head bowed in reverence to this man. Never had I come across the like of him.” What is it that this man was guarding so zealously? He was guarding his surati, his awareness, and he was not prepared to lose it at any cost. Whatever happens, happens. All that was required to be done was being attended to; that is enough. On no account can contemplation be bartered away. Nothing is so precious in life that you can afford to lose your remembrance for it.
But you abandon your awareness for the slightest thing. A one – rupee note is lost and you go mad looking for it. You look for it even in places where it could not possibly be. A man has lost something and you find him looking in the tiniest box, much too small for such an object. You are always ready to lose your awareness, or is it better to say you have no awareness to lose – you are unconscious!
Nanak says: Through contemplation awareness is born within the mind and the intellect. As the Omkar settles more and more within, the external utterance stops first. The arrow now turns within, for now there is no one without to speak to; in other words, the external relations created by speech are no more. To speak is to build a bridge to reach others. It is the relationship between us and others. By not speaking, this relationship is broken; you have become silent.
To become silent means now the journey is reversed: the arrow has turned inwards, the journey within has begun. As soon as this happens, the first glimpse of awareness begins to appear, and for the first time in full awareness you know that YOU are! So far you could see everything except yourself. Only you were in shadow, as there is darkness directly under the flame. Now you will awaken. As the intensity of Omkar increases, contemplation settles on the word and awareness increases proportionately.
Take it this way: There are two sides to the scales; when one goes up the other comes down to the same extent. Proportional to your going inward, so awareness increases. On the third plane when even the word is lost and only the resonance of Omkar remains – pure sound – suddenly the awareness becomes complete. You get up. You awaken, as if the sleep of a thousand years has been broken. Darkness flees and there is light, and light alone. It is as if you were in a deep slumber through innumerable lives and dreaming away. Suddenly the dream is broken, and lo, It is morning. You see the dawn as if for the first time in your life.
THROUGH CONTEMPLATION IS REMEMBRANCE BORN IN MIND AND INTELLECT, AND AWARENESS OF THE UNIVERSE ACQUIRED.
YOU CEASE TO BEAR THE BRUNT OF LIFE,
AND GAIN FREEDOM FROM THE GOD OF DEATH. THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW IT.
The day you awaken you realize for the first time the infinite space, the countless worlds, this existence, this leela – play of the gods. As long as you are steeped in your own desires, lost in the labyrinth of your own mind, you are blind and see nothing. The mind is another name for blindness; contemplation is the opening of the eyes, the restoration of sight.
Nanak says: Through contemplation alone you become aware of all the worlds. All the heavenly bodies, the whole universe becomes visible. Life manifests in its complete and perfect glory. Then you see His initials in all things great and small. You will find His name on every leaf, His resonance in every hair of your body; you will hear His melody in the winds. Then the whole of existence unfolds His glory to you.
Now you ask: What is the meaning of life? What is the idea behind it? Why are we born? Why do we live? The great French existential thinker, Gabriel Marcel, has written that life has but one problem, and that is suicide. Why do we live? Why should we not commit suicide? The ultimate state of insensibility, of unconsciousness, is in suicide, where the priceless gifts of life are thrown away for you find nothing in them.
Just the opposite happens when you awaken into awareness; then the glory is boundless. World upon world opens before your eyes. Every stage abounds with mystery and wonder. Then you come to know the meaning of life, the bliss which we call samadhi. Then you know why life is.
In your present state you cannot know; however much you may ask, however much you are told that to attain God is the goal of your life, it does not solve your problem. No matter how much it is drummed into your ears that samadhi is the goal of your life, nothing strikes home as real until your remembrance awakens. You hear and you dismiss such talk as the words of those who are not very sound of mind. You trust your own understanding, but where has it taken you but to the brink of suicide? This valuable gift given to you is less than worthless, for you find no meaning in it. But no sooner do you become awakened than the mystery begins to unravel before you. A flower opens and each petal exudes nothing but joy – enchanting bliss!
Nanak is a simple rustic. He says: Through contemplation you cease to bear the burden of. life. He speaks plain village language, but what he says is significant and to the point. Through contemplation you need not spit out your words only to take them back again, bearing the insults and abuse, or even a slap on the face for whatever you said in your dullness. You speak through your ego – sleep, unaware of what you say, what you do, where you are going. Then it is only natural that you get slapped in the face.
Today you say you are in love; before morning dawns your love has flown away! One minute you feel like murdering someone and in a short while you rack your brains how best to please him. One instant you say one thing, the next minute you say the opposite. You cannot be trusted. You are as changeable as the seasons. There is nothing stable within you, nothing crystallized, so you have to bear a slap in the face every moment.
Nanak says, Through contemplation alone you need not bear that slap on the face, and you no longer have to go along with the god of death. Everyone dies but all don’t have to follow Yama, the god of death. Understand the symbol. Everyone dies, but once in a while a man dies consciously and then he need not follow Yama. As long as you live in non-remembrance you are a prisoner of
Yama. The meaning of Yama is fear. One who lives in nonawareness, dies in nonawareness. He trembles and wails for someone to save him from death. He holds onto the very last breath of life, wanting to be saved from the jaws of death by any means. This state of fear, this dark face of fear, is symbolized by the god Yama astride a black buffalo.
But a person who dies in full remembrance and awareness is not obsessed by fear. Without fear he comes to realize that death is the culmination of life and not its end. Far from being fearsome, death is the gateway to His abode, an invitation to His dwelling, a process of merging into Him. There is no need to weep and lament; rather, he enters into the faultless beauty of death, filled with joy and celebration – as if going to meet his beloved.
Nanak’s last words are priceless. As he was about to leave the body he said, “The flowers are blooming, spring has come. The trees are vibrant with the songs of the birds!”
Which realm is he talking about? Some people thought it a nostalgic remembrance of his childhood, his village, where – that very season being spring – he imagined the trees in full bloom and the birds singing in them. It is a matter of coincidence that it was springtime, that the flowers were in bloom, and the birds were singing, and the air was filled with gladness. But this was not what Nanak had in mind. Nanak was seeing something else, but had to use familiar metaphors in talking to mortals. In the last moments he was entering into the supreme beauty, the incomparable loveliness where flowers bloom perpetually and never wither, where the birds sing eternally, where there is everlasting loveliness.
No sooner does a person become enlightened than he discovers death to be no annihilation but the ultimate flowering, the highest state of existence. He realizes that in death we lose nothing. One door closes; another opens. The sage enters dancing, singing; the ignorant man weeps and wails. If any man follows the emissaries of death, he himself is responsible, for there is no Yama, much less his emissaries. It is your fear that is your Yama; once you become fearless, God spreads out His arms for you.
Your actual experience of death depends on what you are. Death is the statement, the test, of how you have lived. If at that moment a man is cheerful, serene and filled with bliss and thanksgiving, know that his life was incomparable, for death is the ultimate offering to God. If he weeps and wails it is a sure sign that his life was a tale of anguish, a veritable hell.
Nanak says, Through contemplation you
... GAIN FREEDOM FROM THE GOD OF DEATH. THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW IT.
THROUGH CONTEMPLATION THE PATH IS CLEARED OF ALL OBSTACLES; AND A MAN DEPARTS WITH DIGNITY AND HONOR;
ONE IS SAVED FROM WANDERING ASTRAY,
AND CONNECTION TO RELIGION IS ESTABLISHED. THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH
THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW.
All obstructions are within you and not outside of you. Obstacles are there because of your insensibility and they cannot simply be removed. The only way is to awaken within; then all obstacles vanish.
Now suppose your house is in darkness. As you enter, every corner of the house seems filled with danger; maybe there are ghosts or goblins, or burglars, or even a murderer. Everything seems so ominous; the house holds a thousand perils; there might even be snakes and scorpions around. How will you possibly overcome all these hazards if you set out to deal with them one by one? Who knows how many thieves, how many criminals, lurk within this darkness? You cannot deal with them individually. The only way is to light a lamp. One single lamp illuminates the whole interior and all fears flee. Once the house is lighted and you can see whatever danger there is, you can always find ways to deal with it.
The fact is as Buddha has said, “The dark house attracts the burglar.”. A thief avoids the house that is well lit. If the lamp is burning within and if the awareness stands guard, no obstacle or hindrance dare enter within you.
One day, early in the morning, Mulla Nasruddin came running to me. He held a paper in his hand and seemed terribly disturbed. He handed me the paper and flopped into a chair. The anonymous writer was warning Mulla that if he did not refrain from following his wife within the next three days, he would shoot him.
“What should I do?” asked Mulla.
“Why, that’s simple,” I said. “Just leave his wife alone!”
“But which wife shall I stop following?” he asked. “If it were only one woman I’d been following I’d know which one to stop!”
If there were only one hindrance you could get rid of it, but they are infinite. You are stalking an infinite number of women; your desires are inexhaustible. Destroy one, ten more take its place. If you keep grappling with each, hoping to eradicate them one by one, you never will succeed. A method is needed to finish it once and for all. And he who shows you this method, the gur, is the guru.
So Nanak says: Through contemplation all hindrances on the path are eradicated. Continue the repetition of Omkar and let it reach the non-repeating state, then you find your eyes have opened. Then there are no obstructions, for these are but your creations. There is no outside enemy to be vanquished. You are your own enemy. Your insensitivity is your enemy and because of it you are enmeshed in endless entanglements. No matter how cautious you are, you keep adding fresh hindrances at every step.
There are people in this world who regulate their lives with control and restraint. They must take each step carefully so as not to go astray. But restraint is not the end; awareness is the ultimate goal. The invitation to wander is always beckoning inside. However much you impose restraints, the raging passions will bring you down at the slightest opportunity. A person who practices self-denial and controls his every action must always be afraid, for within him the imprisoned passions continue boiling.
THROUGH CONTEMPLATION THE PATH IS CLEARED OF ALL OBSTACLES, AND A MAN DEPARTS WITH DIGNITY AND HONOR.
There is a different kind of honor that does not depend on others; it is the respect that arises out of internal dignity. He dies with majesty who feels death to be the union with God. He departs with joy and celebration in his heart, being grateful to existence for the life granted him. His air of thanksgiving for everything around is stamped on his face and in his every hair. Then it is not significant how many followed his coffin or where he died. None of this matters to his real dignity, his glory, his nobility, which are intrinsic qualities.
When death is no longer fearsome to you, you die with dignity; otherwise you cannot. For how can you be dignified when you weep and wail, entreat and beg? Then what does it matter how many people follow your funeral? All the pomp and ceremony cannot erase your anguish. All the flowers showered on you cannot smother the stink within you; the booming salute cannot overcome the uproar of sorrow and woe within you. Your death will be empty of honor all the same.
When Nanak says that through contemplation a person departs with honor, he talks of that internal honor, an internal reverence, a feeling of thanksgiving.
ONE IS SAVED FROM WANDERING ASTRAY,
AND CONNECTION TO RELIGION IS ESTABLISHED.
No matter how many scriptures you read, you cannot establish contact thereby with religion. No temple or mosque or church can connect you with religion. Slumbering, insensitive you go to worship; the same you who runs the shop, also goes to the house of worship. Your attitude should change, and once it is altered, everything else is transformed accordingly; otherwise you will keep on trying everything and yet remain your same old self.
Nanak went to Hardwar during the month of offerings to the dead. People were filling vessels with water, and then, facing East, were throwing them into the sky in order to reach their forefathers in heaven. Nanak picked up a bucket also, but he turned towards the West, and each bucket of water he poured, he cried out, “Reach my fields!”
After emptying a number of buckets, the people round him remonstrated with him. “What are you doing? You are turned in the wrong direction. You should face towards the rising sun! And why do you say, ‘Reach my fields’? Where are your fields?”
Nanak replied, “About two hundred miles from here.” The people began to laugh. “And you expect the water you throw here to reach your fields two hundred miles away? You are really out of your mind.”
“How far away are your forefathers?” Nanak asked. “They are infinitely far away,” they replied.
“If your water can reach your ancestors an infinite distance away, why can’t my water cover a mere two hundred miles?” asked Nanak.
What is Nanak trying to say? He is asking them to think a little, ponder: “What is this foolishness you indulge in? Become a little aware; what do you gain by such actions?”
Unfortunately all religion is filled with such stupidities. Some send water to ancestors, some bathe in the Ganges to wash away sins, yet others sit before idols without any feeling of worship or adoration, merely to ask for worldly things. A thousand foolishnesses prevail in the name of religion.
Therefore Nanak insists that religion is not attained through scriptures, nor through tradition and customs, nor through blind following. Contact with religion is established only when a person attains contemplation.
When a person awakens, awareness appears within him. When the resonance of Omkar first sounds, our relationship with religion begins. The day you are capable of hearing the resonance of 0m within yourself, without any longer saying it, you are filled with joy, you are the witness, the observer. That very day you establish your connection with religion, not with some creed or sect. It is religion that Buddha calls dharma. It is religion that Mahavir and Nanak talk about.
Religion – dharma – means nature, the natural order of things. What Lao Tzu means by Tao, so Nanak means by religion. To be removed from one’s nature is to be lost. To return to one’s own nature is to return homewards. To be established in one’s own nature is to be established in God.
The name, Niranjan – God, the spotless, the flawless one – is such that only he who contemplates his heart knows.
THROUGH CONTEMPLATION ALONE THE DOOR TO LIBERATION IS ATTAINED; AND THE FAMILY CAN BE SAVED;
THROUGH IT THE GURU IS DELIVERED AND HELPS HIS DISCIPLES ACROSS; THEY NEED NO LONGER BEG FOR ALMS.
THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW IT.
The gateway is within you, the wandering is within you, the obstructions are within you, the paths are within you. When once the lamp is lit you can see in both directions: what is truth and what is untruth. Under the light of the lamp all desire is seen as untruth, and to follow desire is the mundane world. As the light burns within, you will see that desirelessness is truth and also the gateway to liberation.
You are tied because of your desires. Desires are the chains that hold you. Each desire forms a fresh link in the chain, and God knows how long and intricate is your chain of desires. You desire and you enter the prison; you desire and you are tied down. And the more you desire, as you invariably do, the stronger become the shackles that bind you and the thicker become your prison walls.
Nanak says, Through contemplation alone the door to salvation is attained. As soon as you awaken, your eyes are open completely and you see clearly. Cease desiring and the bonds are severed; there will be neither expectations nor attachments. When desire is missing there are no fetters; only then are the portals of liberation open. Desirelessness is the door to salvation.
And through contemplation alone the FAMILY CAN BE SAVED. Which family is Nanak talking about? Certainly not of wife, children, brothers and sisters, for Nanak could not save them; nobody can. There is another kind of a family, that of guru and disciples, that is actually THE FAMILY, for it is here that love occurs in its pristine purity. This love is born out of desirelessness; it happens without any reason.
You love your father because you are born through him. You love your wife because of your bodily desire. You love your son for you see in him a part of yourself or support in your old age. But what of the relationship with the guru? It is so difficult to find a guru, for you seek love without cause, without reason. With the guru there is love and love alone – no desire, no expectation. If you desire or expect something from him, you cannot be a part of his family. You will have to appear before him in all the simplicity and artlessness of a child.
Faith is called blind, and so it seems to those who are given to thinking. People come and say: Our parents ask, why are you mad about Osho? Are you out of your mind?
As a matter of fact they are mad and their families are right, for the head that had managed the worldly affairs has really gone out of order. A new love is born within them that cannot be argued about. They cannot even plead a reason for this love. Even if they try, they find it impossible!
Nanak says, Through contemplation alone can the family be saved. A family grows up around a guru; but when this family becomes a sect, deterioration begins. As long as it remains a family, it is different altogether. When a Buddha is born, thousands of people unite to form his family. Admission to the family of the guru is a very big event, for it signifies entry into a causeless world, a causeless love.
Nanak’s followers are colored by him and drowned in his essence; his rhythm has caught their hearts and they are mad with ecstasy. But then Nanak will pass away and so also will those who joined his family of their own free will. When their children become Sikhs in turn, it has no genuine meaning, for the love that you have not chosen yourself cannot transform you. To choose Nanak is a great revolutionary act, but to be born into a Sikh household and call yourself a Sikh is no revolution.
A Mohammedan is born in a Mohammedan household; a Christian is born in a Christian household; so also with a Hindu or a Jain or a Sikh. Your sect or faith is acquired through your birth, while family in this sense denotes what you have chosen yourself. A religious man always makes his own choice. An irreligious man is a sectarian; he identifies with the religion he was born into.
You are a Jain by birth or a Christian or a Hindu, but how can you be a Jain or Christian or a Hindu by birth? Birth gives you blood and bones and muscles; it does not give you your soul.
An insoluble riddle follows. When a guru is alive there is a light around him in which he floats and allows others to float also. When the guru is alive there is a live phenomenon, a happening taking place around him. When the guru departs, and also those who had offered their lives unto him, the children born into their families identify themselves with the sect of their parents and call themselves Sikhs or Christians or Buddhists; but they have no personal connection with the religion they profess.
One thing you must understand well: Religion is a personal decision. No one can be religious from birth.
THROUGH CONTEMPLATION ALONE THE DOOR TO LIBERATION IS ATTAINED, AND THE FAMILY CAN BE SAVED;
THROUGH IT THE GURU IS DELIVERED AND HELPS HIS DISCIPLES ACROSS; THEY NEED NO LONGER BEG FOR ALMS.
As contemplation crystallizes, desires fall. What is the mundane world but an eternal round of begging for alms? Just observe yourself. What are you doing in your neediness? All twenty-four hours of the day you are wanting, your arms stretched out in desire. You are a veritable beggar. Nanak says through contemplation, your begging ceases. Remembrance makes a king of you, an emperor; it releases you from begging. Contemplation gives all and moves you beyond all desires.
Through contemplation God is attained. What else do you seek? Having reached the ultimate, there is nothing more ahead. Having attained all, what is still left to desire? You have reached samadhi. Having attained all, the need to beg disappears.
THE NAME OF THE FLAWLESS ONE IS SUCH THAT ONLY CONTEMPLATING CAN KNOW IT.
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