Sufism, Vol. 2 The Perfect Master Chapter 10: Exactly in the Middle, Question 2

The second question:

Question 2

DOES BEING IN THE PRESENCE OF A MASTER REALLY CHANGE A MAN?

YOU ARE CHANGED BY EVERYTHING! The sun rises in the morning, your sleep disappears. Not only yours -- trees are awake, birds start singing, the earth wakes up. When the sun sets in the evening, you start falling asleep -- not only you, but trees and birds and rivers and mountains. The whole earth plunges into sleep. When you listen to great music, is some chord in your heart touched and moved or not? Listening to great music, do you become music or not? Seeing a dancer, does not a great desire arise in you to dance? to participate? Does not your energy start becoming a dance? Listening to a poet, listening to great poetry, for a few moments, you attain to a poetic vision. Some doors open, some mysteries surround you.

Exactly the same happens, on a more total level, in the presence of a Master -- because the Master is a musician and the Master is a poet and the Master is a painter and the Master is a potter and the Master is a weaver... and the Master is all things together. A Master is a multi-dimensional phenomenon.

To be in the presence of the Master, to be really in the presence of the Master, to be open, vulnerable, available, available to his touch -- then his magic starts flowing into you. And this happens every day to you! Still the mind goes on suspecting. Still the doubt goes on raising its head.

Have you not been transported into other worlds being with me? Has not it happened to many of you? Is it not happening right now? Are you the same person when you are away from me? Have you not felt that something changes, something starts happening to you, strange, unknown, some energy starts moving, some light starts descending, some silence blooms inside you, some unknown song starts flowing in your being, as the wind that passes through the pines? Have you not heard this sound of running water? through my words, through my silences? Just looking at me, sometimes with open eyes and sometimes with closed eyes, has not it happened again and again to you?

But, I know, the question arises. The more it happens, the more mind creates doubts: Maybe it is just hypnosis? That's what people say all around the world about me, that "This man is a hypnotist." Many people are afraid to come, because if they come and if they are hypnotized then what? The mind says, "Maybe this is just hypnosis." The mind says, "Maybe you have fallen into an illusion. Maybe this is just a delusion, some magic -- otherwise, why does it disappear?"

When you go away from me, when I am not with you and you are not with me, when you forget about me, why does it disappear? The mind, naturally, asks these questions. It disappears because you have not yet learnt how to remain on those high planes of being, how to remain in those plenitude. With me, with great courage, unaware of where you are going, you start moving.... As if a small child goes with his father into the forest -- unafraid of the wild animals, unafraid of the strangeness, up afraid of everything! He knows his father is with him. His hand is in his father's hand. The father may be afraid himself, but the child is not. The father may be worried whether he is on the right track, whether he will be able to reach home, but the CHILD is not. WHY should he be worried? He trusts the father; his trust is absolute. The father may look a little disturbed, but the child is thrilled with the adventure. He is looking at the trees and the flowers, and collecting wild flowers and running after butterflies.

But let the father go and leave the child alone in the forest, and immediately all joy disappears. Now he is alone. He cannot trust himself. Now where is the right path? Now he cannot run after butterflies; now butterflies have no more colors -- in fact they don't exist any more. Now there are no wild flowers; there are only wild animals behind each tree, and ghosts and things like that. And now he is afraid, and it is getting darker and the sun is going to set soon. And he starts crying. He is NO more in that wondrous state.

What has happened? Only one thing has happened: he is no more in trust.

When you are with me there is trust, and trust transforms. When you are alone, the trust is lost -- you are not yet capable of trusting yourself. That's the function of a Master, to help you, slowly slowly, so that you can trust yourself, so that the Master is no more needed. The function of a true Master is to prepare the disciple in such a way that sooner or later the Master is no more needed, and the disciple can remain on his own in those higher planes of being -- where joy is and grace is.

Those higher planes of being are called paradise or heaven. The highest is called MOKSHA, Nirvana. From that point there is no coming back; it is a point of no return. But the first glimpses are possible only with somebody who knows the path, with somebody who has gone to that peak and come back to the earth.

In the ancient scriptures, two types of enlightened people are talked about -- and it will be significant to understand in reference to the concept of the Perfect Master.

In the Buddha tradition, one is called the ARHAT -- one who becomes enlightened, reaches to the highest peak of consciousness, but knows not how to come back to the earth, how to relate to people. He never becomes a Master. He is enlightened, as much as any other Buddha, but he never becomes a Master. Because to become a Master not only is enlightenment needed -- enlightenment is a must -- but a second process is also needed. the capacity to come back to the valleys.

So two things are needed that make a person a Master. First, that he should go to the peak, to the sunlit peaks of consciousness; and second, that he should be able to find his way back to the dark valleys. Because people are living there! If you shout from the peaks, nobody is going to listen. Your voice will never reach to the people. They are worlds apart. The Master has to come back down, he has to descend into the dark, dismal valleys where people are living and groping. He has to become like them again. If you want people to go to the peak, first you will have to come to the valley.

So the Buddha tradition says: two types of enlightened people exist. One is called ARHAT -- one who becomes enlightened and remains there and forgets all about the people who are groping in the dark, suffering in misery, in ignorance. And the other is called BODHISATTVA -- the BODHISATTVA becomes the Master, he comes back. The moment he has reached the peak, immediately he starts descending. He remembers that many are there who will need his support. Many are there who will need him as a guide. Now he knows the path, now he can lead many people to the peak.

It is going to be a difficult task. To convince people that the peak exists is a difficult task. To convince people that "It is possible. You can reach the peak," is very difficult. They have lived in darkness for so many lives, for millions of lives, that they know only darkness. They can't believe that light is possible. They have always been blind! There is no word for light in their language. And if you talk about light, they think either you have gone mad or you are just being poetic.

That's what was reported to Buddha's parents. When he became enlightened, rum ours started reaching the palace, the old man: "Your son has become enlightened." Those who were negative about Buddha, they said, "He has gone mad." And those who were not negative, who were sympathetic, they said, "He has become a poet."

At the most, people can believe that you must be creating great poetry, you have great imagination. You can visualize sunlit peaks, you are really a great visionary. You can see God in your vision, and paradise, and the angels -- you are a great visionary.

But the mystic is not a visionary. What he sees is not a vision: what he sees is tangible reality. But how to convince the people who have not known? How to tell them what light is if they have never opened their eyes? If you tell them, "It is white," they will ask, "What is white?" If you tell them, "It is like snow, pure white," they will think light is a very cold thing and wet. Light is neither cold nor wet.

But don't be hard on people. What can they do? They have to translate everything into the language of the valley.

So the first distinction: a few people never come back from the peak, seeing the impossibility of it all, that nobody is going to trust them, nobody is going to believe them. And why bother? They have arrived... they disappear into the light.

The second type, the BODHISATTVA, who becomes a Master, has infinite compassion. He starts moving down, back into the darker world which he has left behind. Where people are just like crawling worms, where people are not yet people, have no consciousness, are living like robots. And those people are not going to forgive this man who has come from the sunlit peaks -- they will crucify him, they will kill him, they will poison him, because this man will disturb their comfort, their convenience. They have started to believe that darkness is all, and now here comes this man with the message that "No! Darkness is not all. There are sunlit Himalayan peaks, and I have been there."

Now this man disturbs their sleep, disturbs their cozy arrangement. Now this man AGAIN creates a longing in them to search for the peaks. They cannot forgive this man. Hence, Jesus is crucified, Mansoor is murdered, Socrates is poisoned, Buddha is stoned, Mahavir is driven out from each place wherever he goes. Why are people so antagonistic towards the Masters? There is a reason in it.

This man brings some news that creates a very very great desire in them, and that desire will disturb their whole arrangement. They have a wife, children they have, the shop, the factory, everything is going well. Somehow they have managed, and now comes this man to disturb everything. Now NO more does the wife seem to be so attractive, no more do the children seem to be so attractive, no more the money, the power politics... now a dream is released in them. And the touch of the Master is such that even if you are against him, he moves your heart. Even if you DON'T want to listen to him, something hits you, something goes into your heart like a seed and starts sprouting there.

The difficulty for the Master is how to speak to you about those peaks. The Perfect Master is one who manages. The Perfect Master is one who somehow manages to say things which cannot be said, somehow creates devices. If things cannot be said, then he tries to SHOW them to you, he creates situations in which some glimpses of the peak can come to you.

The Perfect Master is one who tries the impossible, and succeeds in it.

A Buddha is a Perfect Master. A Jesus is a Perfect Master. A Mohammed is a Perfect Master -- so is Kabir, Nanak. A Perfect Master is one who has succeeded in the impossible task of convincing blind people that light exists, of convincing deaf people that music exists -- and not only exists but is worth searching for.

IN THE PRESENCE OF A MASTER, YOU ASK, DOES IT REALLY HAPPEN THAT A MAN CHANGES?

What to say about man? -- sometimes even animals have been known to change.

Not many years ago, just a few years ago, there was a great Master, Ramana Maharshi -- a Perfect Master, In his DARSHANS -- because he was a silent man, would speak rarely and very few words -- each morning when he would sit for the darshan for one hour and people would come to sit with him, a cow would also come. The cow was so regular that no other disciple was so regular -- the cow was just like Teertha! Regular.... It might rain, it might be summer, it might be winter -- whatsoever! -- the cow might be ill, or healthy, whatsoever, but the cow was bound to come at the exact time.

She would come and stand in the verandah and look inside through the window, her head inside the window, and remain there for one hour, sometimes with open eyes and sometimes with closed eyes. And sometimes tears flowing... it has become a miracle!

One day the cow was very ill and could not come -- so Ramana had to go! He had never gone to visit any other disciple, but for that poor cow he had to go. And all the disciples said, "What are you doing, Bhagwan?" And he said, "But I have to go. She was so regular. And I know she wants to come -- the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

And when he went, she was just sitting in the direction of his room looking at the window from far away. She could not get up, she was dying. And when Ramana reached, she closed her eyes and tears started flowing. She died. That cow was the first animal in the whole history of humanity or of consciousness that was given a farewell as is given to an enlightened person. Ramana was present there.

Somebody asked Ramana, "Is this cow going to be born as a man?"

Ramana said, "No. She will not need to be born as a man -- she has passed beyond that. She is not going to be born at all. She has attained enlightenment."

Yes, it is possible. What to say about man? Even animals, if they are receptive... and cows ARE very receptive. That's why in the East they have become sacred. It is not for no reason at all -- they ARE very receptive, open. They can grow in consciousness. NO other animal can take this jump that the cow can take.

It was for no other reason than this that they became an essential part of all the ashrams in the East in the old days. They created a certain atmosphere -- of purity, innocence.

Listen to this story:

Izzy's friend Yosef said he had found a parrot that not only would speak, but could speak Hebrew. Izzy was skeptical, but when he went to Yosef's house, they put a yarmulke on the bird's head, and the parrot immediately recited the full Friday night services.

Izzy was amazed, and begged his friend to let him buy the bird. After much cajoling, Yosef agreed. For the price of ten dollars, Izzy was able to take away the 'dovvining' bird.

On Rosh Hashanah, Izzy took the bird to the synagogue. He passed the word around that his parrot could sing the prayers. Everyone laughed at his pretensions, and he extracted wagers of ten to one that his bird couldn't follow the service for even three minutes.

When the prayers began, Izzy put a yarmulke on the parrot's head and commanded him to sing. But the bird was silent.

"Go, pray, like you did for Yosef," Izzy urged. But the parrot wouldn't open its beak.

"Pray, you numbskull! I have a bet on you!" But the parrot wouldn't utter a word. Finally, Izzy had to admit defeat, and left the synagogue downcast and deep in debt.

When he got home, he lashed into the bird. "So you shame me in front of everybody, eh? So you make me lose ten to one bets? So you pretend you don't know how to pray? Why did you do that?"

Finally, the parrot spoke up. "Don't be stupid!" said the parrot. "Comes Yom Kippur, you'll make a killing!"

If the parrot lives with a Jew, the parrot becomes a Jew, remember. If you live with the Master, something of the Master starts entering in you....

Sufism

VOL. 2, SUFIS: THE PERFECT MASTER

Chapter-10

Exactly in the Middle