The Thought of No-Thought




Energy Enhancement Enlightened Texts Yoga Yoga Sutras of Patanjali



Book 1, Sutra 45


Book 1, Sutra 46


Book 1, Sutra 47


CONTEMPLATION is not meditation. There is a vast difference, and not only of quantity but of quality. They exist on different planes. Their dimensions are altogether different; not only different, but diametrically opposite.

This is the first thing to be understood. Contemplation is concerned with some object; it is a movement of consciousness towards the other. Contemplation is outgoing attention, moving towards the periphery, going away from the center. Meditation is moving towards the center, away from the periphery, away from the other. Contemplation is arrowed towards the other, meditation towards oneself. In contemplation, duality exists. There are two, the contemplator and the contemplated. In meditation there is only one.

The English word "meditation" is not very good, does not give the real sense of dhyana or samadhi, because in the very word meditation, it appears that you are meditating upon something. So try to understand: contemplation is meditating upon something; meditation is not meditating upon something, just being oneself, no movement away from the center, no movement at all... just being yourself so totally that there is not even a flickering; the inner flame remains unmoving. The other has disappeared; only you are. Not a single thought is there. The whole world has disappeared. The mind is no more there; only you are, in your absolute purity. Contemplation is like a mirror mirroring something; meditation is simply mirroring, not mirroring anything -- just a pure capacity to mirror but not actually mirroring anything.

With contemplation you can attain up to nirvichara samadhi -- samadhi with no thought -- but in nirvichara one thought remains, and that is the thought of no-thought. That too is a thought, the last, the very last, but it remains. One is aware that there is no thought, one knows that there is no thought. But what is this knowing of no-thought? Vast change has happened, thoughts have disappeared, but now, no-thought itself has become an object. If you say that "I know emptiness," then it is not enough emptiness; the thought of emptiness is there. The mind is still functioning, functioning in a very, very passive, negative way -- but still functioning. You are aware that there is emptiness. Now what is this emptiness you are aware of? It is very subtle thought, the most subtle, the last beyond which the object completely disappears.

So whenever a disciple comes to a Zen Master very happy with his attainment and says that "I have attained emptiness," the Master says, "Go and throw this emptiness away. Don't bring it to me again. If you are really empty then there is no thought of emptiness also."

This is what happened in the famous story of Subhuti. He was sitting under a tree with no thought, not even the thought of no-thought. Suddenly, flowers showered. He was amazed -- "What is happening?" He looked all around; flowers and flowers from the sky. Seeing that he was amazed, gods told him that "Don't be amazed. We have heard the greatest sermon on emptiness today. You have delivered it. Celebration we are making, and we are throwing these flowers on you as a symbol, appreciating and celebrating your sermon on emptiness." Subhuti must have shrugged his shoulders and said, "But I have not spoken." The gods said, "Yes, you have not spoken, neither have we heard -- that is the greatest sermon on emptiness."

If you speak, if you say "I am empty," you have missed the point. Up to the thought of no-thought it is nirvichara samadhi, with no contemplation. But still the last part... the elephant has passed; the tail has remained -- the last part -- and sometimes the tail proves bigger than the elephant because it is so subtle. To throw away thoughts is easy. How to throw emptiness?  -- how to throw no-thought? It is very, very subtle; how to grasp it? That's what happened when the Zen Master said to the disciple, "Go and throw this emptiness!" The disciple said, "But how to throw emptiness?" Then the Master said, "Then carry it away; go throw it, but don't stand before me with emptiness in your head. Do something!"

It is very subtle. One can cling to it, but then the mind has deceived you at the last point. Ninety-nine point nine you had reached; just the last step, and hundred degrees would have been complete and you would have evaporated.

Up to this point, Patanjali says it is samadhi without contemplation -- nirvichara samadhi. If you attain to this samadhi you will become very, very happy, silent, serene. You will always be collected inside, together. You will have a crystallization; you will not be an ordinary man. You will look almost superhuman, but you will have to come back again and again. You will be born, you will die.

The wheel of reincarnation will not stop because the no-thought is just like a subtle seed; many lives will come out of it. The seed is very subtle, the tree is big, but the whole tree is hidden in the seed. The seed may be a mustard seed, so small, but it carries it within it. It is loaded, it has a blueprint; it can bring the whole tree again and again and again. And from one seed millions of seeds can come out. One small mustard seed can fill the whole earth with vegetation.

No-thought is the most subtle seed. And if you have it, Patanjali calls this "samadhi with seed", sabeej samadhi. You will continue coming, the wheel will continue moving -- birth and death, birth and death. It will be repeated. Still you have not burned the seed.

If you can burn this thought of no-thought, if you can burn this thought of no-self, if you can burn this thought of no-ego, only then nirbeej samadhi happens, samadhi with no seed. Then there is no birth, no death. You have transcended the whole wheel, you have gone beyond. Now you are pure consciousness. The duality has dropped; you have become one. This oneness, this dropping of duality is the dropping of life, death. The whole wheel suddenly stops -- you are out of the nightmare.

Now we will enter into the sutras. They are very, very beautiful. Try to understand them. Deep is their significance. You will have to be very, very aware to understand the subtle nuances.


THESE SAMADHIS THAT RESULT FROM MEDITATION ON AN OBJECT... You can meditate on any object, whether material or sacred. The object may be money, or the object may be moksha, the final attainment. The object may be a stone or the object may be the kohinoor diamond; it makes no difference. If the object is there, mind is there; with object, mind continues. Mind has a continuity through the object. Through the other, the mind is fed continuously. And when the other is there you cannot know yourself; the whole mind is focused on the other. The other has to be removed, utterly removed, so there is nothing for you to think, there is nothing for you to give your attention to, there is nowhere you can move.

With the object, Patanjali says there are many possibilities: you can be in relationship with the object as a reasoning being; you can think about the object logically -- then Patanjali gives it the name of savitarka samadhi. It happens many times: when a scientist is observing an object he becomes completely silent; no thoughts move in the sky, in his being, he is so much absorbed with the object. Or sometimes a child playing with his toy is so absorbed that the mind has completely, almost completely, stopped. A very deep serenity exists. The object takes all your attention; nothing is left behind. No anxiety is possible, no tension is possible, no anguish is possible, because you are totally absorbed in the object, you have moved in the object.

A scientist, a great philosopher... It happened to Socrates: he was standing one night; it was a full moon night and he was looking at the moon, and he became so absorbed... He must have been in what Patanjali calls savitarka samadhi, because he was one of the most logical men ever born, one of the most rational minds, the very peak of rationality. He was thinking about the moon, about the stars and the night and the sky, and he forgot himself completely. And the snow started falling, and by the morning he was found almost dead, half his body covered with snow, frozen, and still he was looking at the sky. He was alive but frozen. People came to search where he has gone, and then they have found him standing; the whole night he was standing under the tree. And when they asked, "Why didn't you come home back? -- and the snow is falling and one can die," he said, "I completely forgot about it. For me, it has not fallen. For me, time has not passed. I was so much absorbed with the beauty of the night, and the stars and the order of existence and the cosmos."

Logic always is absorbed with the order, with the harmony that exists in the universe. Logic moves around an object -- goes on moving around and around and around -- and the whole energy is taken by the object. This is samadhi with reason, savitarka, but the object is there. The scientific, the rational, the philosophical mind attains to it.

Then Patanjali says that there is another samadhi, nirvitarka, the aesthetic mind -- the poet, the painter, the musician attains to it. The pc et goes directly into the object, not around and around, but still the object is there. He may not be thinking about it, but his attention is focused on it. It may not be the head functioning, it may be the heart, but still the object is there, the other is there. A poet can attain to very deep, blissful states, but the cycle of rebirth will not stop, neither for the scientist nor for the poet.

Then, Patanjali comes to savichara samadhi: logic has been dropped, just pure contemplation -- not about it -- just looking at it, watching at it, witnessing it. Deeper realms open but the object remains there, and you remain obsessed with the object. You are yet not in your own self -- the other is there. Then Patanjali comes to nirvichara.

In nirvichara, by and by, the object is made subtle. This is the most important point to be understood: in nirvichara, the object is made more and more subtle. From gross objects you move to subtle objects -- from a rock to the flower, from the flower to the fragrance. You move towards subtle. By and by, a moment comes the object becomes so subtle, almost as if it is not.

For example if you contemplate on emptiness; the object is almost not, if you meditate on nothingness. There are Buddhist schools which emphasize only one meditation, and that is on nothingness. One has to think, one has to meditate, one has to imbibe the idea that nothing exists. Continuously meditating on nothingness, a moment comes when the object becomes so subtle that it cannot withhold your attention; it is so subtle that there is nothing to contemplate, and one goes on and on and on. Suddenly, one day the consciousness bounces upon oneself. Not finding any standing ground there in the object, not finding any foothold, not finding anything to cling to, the consciousness bounces upon itself. It returns, comes back to its own center. Then it becomes the highest, the purest, nirvichara.

The highest, nirvichara, is when the consciousness bounces upon oneself. If you start thinking that "I have attained to no-thought, and I have attained to nothingness," again you have created an object and the consciousness has moved away. This happens many times for a seeker. Not knowing the inner mysteries, many times you bounce upon yourself. Sometimes you touch your center, and again you have gone out. Suddenly, the idea arises, "Yes, I have attained." Suddenly, you start feeling "Yes, here it is. satori has happened, samadhi has been attained." You feel so blissful it is natural for the idea to arise. But if the idea arises, again you have become a victim of something which is objective. Subjectivity is lost again; oneness has become two. Duality again is there.

One has to be aware not to allow the idea of no-thought. Don't try -- whenever something like this happens, remain into it. Don't try to think about it, don't make any notion about it; enjoy it. You can dance, there will be no trouble, but don't allow verbalization, don't allow language. Dancing won't disturb because in dancing you remain one.

In Sufi tradition, dance is used to avoid mind. In the last stage, Sufi Masters say that "Whenever you come to a point where object has disappeared, immediately start dancing so that the energy moves into the body and not in the mind. Immediately do something; anything will help."

Zen Masters when they attain start laughing a real belly laugh, roar-like, a lion's roar. What are they doing? Energy is there and for the first time energy has become one. If you allow anything else in the mind, immediately the division is again there, and division is your old habit. It will persist for few days. Jump, run, dance, give a good belly laugh, do something so that the energy moves into the body and not into the head. Because energy is there and the old pattern is there, it can move again...

Many people come to me, and whenever it happens, the greatest problem arises -- the greatest I say, because it is no ordinary problem. The mind immediately grabs hold of it and says, "Yes, you have attained." The ego has entered, the mind has entered, everything is lost. A single idea and a vast division immediately is there. Dancing is good. You can dance -- there will be no trouble about it. You can be ecstatic, you can celebrate. Hence I emphasize on celebration.

After each meditation celebrate, so celebration becomes part of you, and when the final happens, immediately you will be able to celebrate.


The whole problem is how to be freed from the other, the object. The object is the whole world. You will come again and again if the object is there, because with the object exists desire, with the object exists thought, with the object exists ego, with the object you exist. If the object falls, you will suddenly fall, because object and subject can exist together. They are parts of each other; one cannot exist. It is just like a coin: the head and tail exist together. You cannot save one and throw the other. You cannot save the head and throw the tail -- they are together. Either you keep them both or you throw them both. If you throw one, the other is thrown. Subject and object are together; they are one, aspects of one thing. Object drops, the whole house of subjectivity immediately collapses; then you are no more the old. Then you are the beyond, and only the beyond is beyond life and death.

You will have to die, you will have to be reborn. While dying, just like a tree, you gather all your desires again in a seed. You don't go into another birth; the seed flies and goes into another birth. All you have lived desired -- your frustrations, your failures, your successes, your loves, your hates -- while you are dying, the whole energy gathers into a seed. That seed is of energy; that seed jumps from you, moves into a womb. Again that seed recreates you, just like a seed in the tree. When the tree is going to die, it preserves itself into the seed. Through the seeds the tree persists; through the seed you persist. That's why Patanjali calls it sabeej samadhi. If the object is there, you will have to be born again and again, you will have to pass through the same misery, the same hell that is life, unless you become seedless.

And what is seedlessness? If the object is not there, there is no seed. Then all your past karmas simply disappear, because in fact you have never done anything. Everything has been done by the mind -- but you are identified, you think you are the mind. Everything has been done by the body -- but you are identified, you think you are the body.

In a seedless samadhi, in nirvichara samadhi, when only consciousness exists in its utter purity, for the first time you understand the whole thing: that you have never been the doer. You have never desired a single thing. There is no need to desire because everything is in you. You are the ultimate. It was foolish on your part to desire, and because you desired you became a beggar.

Ordinarily you think otherwise -- you think because you are a beggar, that's why you desire. But in seedless samadhi dawns this understanding: that it is just the otherwise -- because you desire, you are a beggar. You are completely upside down. If desire disappears, you simply suddenly become the emperor. The beggar has never been there. It was because you were desiring, it was because you were too much thinking of the object, and you were so much obsessed with the object and the objects, that you had no time and no opportunity and no space to look within. You had completely forgotten that who is within. Within is the divine, within is God himself.

That's why Hindus go on saying, "Aham brahmasmi." They say, "I am the ultimate." But just by saying, it cannot be attained. One has to reach to the nirvichara samadhi. Only then Upanishads become true, only then Buddhas become true. You become a witness. You say, "Yes, they are right," because now it has become your own experience.


NIRVICHARA VAISHARADYE ADHYATMA PRASADAH. This word prasad is very, very beautiful. It means grace. When one is in his own being settled, come home, suddenly a benediction... all that he always desired is suddenly fulfilled. All that you wanted to be, suddenly you are, and you have not done anything for it, you have not made any effort for it. In nirvichara samadhi one comes to know that in one's very nature, deepest nature, one is always fulfilled -- a fulfillment dance!


And what is the utmost purity? -- where not even the thought of no-thought exists. That is the utmost purity: where the mirror is simply the mirror, nothing is reflected in it -- because even a reflection is an impurity. It does not do to the mirror anything in fact, but still the mirror is not pure. The reflection cannot do anything to the mirror. It will not leave any footprints, it will not leave any traces on the mirror, but while it is there the mirror is filled with something else. Something foreign is there: mirror is not in its uttermost purity, in its uttermost loneliness; mirror is not innocent -- something is there.

When the mind has completely gone and even there is no-mind, there is not a single thought of anything whatsoever, not even about your state of being in such a blissful moment -- you are simply this utmost purity of nirvichara stage of samadhi -- there is a dawning of the spiritual light: many things happen.

That is what happened to Subhuti: suddenly flowers showered for no known reason at all, and he has not done anything. He was not even aware of his emptiness. If he was, then flowers were not going to shower. He was simply oblivious of anything, he was so in himself  -- not even a ripple on the surface of the consciousness, not even a reflection in the mirror, not even a white cloud in the sky -- nothing.

Flowers showered... that is what Patanjali says: NIRVICHARA VAISHARADYE ADHYATMA PRASADAH -- suddenly grace descends. In fact, it has been always descending.

You are not aware: right now flowers are showering on you, but you are not empty so you cannot see them. Only through the eyes of emptiness they can be seen, because they are not flowers of this world, they are flowers from the other world.

All those who have attained, they agree on one point: that in that final attainment one feels that for no reason at all, everything is fulfilled. One feels so blessed, and one has not done anything for it. You have done something about meditation, you have done something about contemplation, you have done something about how not to cling with the object, you have done something on these lines, but you have not done anything for sudden blessings to shower on you. You have not done anything to fulfill your desires.

With the object, misery exists; with the desire, the miserable mind; with the demand, with the complaining mind, the hell. Suddenly when the object has gone, the hell has also disappeared and heaven is showering on you. It is a moment of grace. You cannot say that you have attained it. You can simply say you have not done anything. That is the meaning of grace, prasadah: without doing anything on your part it is happening. In fact it has always been happening, but you are missing somehow. You are so much engrossed with the object, that's why you cannot look within, what is happening there. Your eyes are not withinwards, your eyes are moving outwards. You are born already fulfilled. You need not do anything, you need not move a single step. This is the meaning of prasad.


Always, you have been surrounded with darkness. With the awareness moving inwards, there is light, and in that light you come to know there has been no darkness. Just you were not in tune with yourself; that was the only darkness.

If you understand this, just sitting silently everything is possible. You don't make a journey and you reach the goal. You don't do anything and everything happens. Difficult to understand it, because the mind says, "How is it possible? And I have been doing so much. Even then bliss has not happened, so how it can happen without doing anything?" Everybody is seeking happiness and everybody is missing it, and the mind says, and of course logically, that if with so much seeking it doesn't happen, how it can happen without seeking? And people who are talking about these things must have gone mad: "One has to seek hard, then only is it possible." And the mind goes on saying, "Seek hard, make more effort, run fast, gain speed, because the goal is so far away."

The goal is within you. There is no need for any speed and there is no need to go anywhere. There is no need to do anything whatsoever. The only thing needed is to sit silently in a non-doing state, without any object, just being yourself so completely, so utterly centered, that not even a ripple arises on the surface. And then there is prasad; then grace descends on you, blessings shower, your whole being is filled with an unknown benediction. Then this very world becomes a heaven. Then this very life becomes divine. Then there is nothing wrong. Then everything is as it should be. With your inner bliss you feel the bliss everywhere. With a new perception, a new clarity, there is no other world, there is no other life, there is no other time. This moment, this very existence is the only case.

But unless you feel yourself, you will go on missing all the blessings that existence gives just as gifts.

Prasad means it is a gift from the existence. You have not earned it, you cannot claim it. In fact, when the claimer goes, suddenly it is there.


... and your innermost being is of the nature of light. Consciousness is light, consciousness is the only light. You are existing very unconsciously: doing things, not knowing why; desiring things, not knowing why; asking things, not knowing why; drifting in an unconscious sleep. You are all sleepwalkers. Somnambulism is the only spiritual disease -- walking and living in sleep.

Become more conscious. Start being conscious with objects. Look at things with more alertness. You pass by a tree; look at the tree with more alertness. Stop for a while, look at the tree; rub your eyes, look at the tree with more alertness. Collect your awareness, look at the tree, and watch the difference. Suddenly when you are alert, the tree is different: it is more green, it is more alive, it is more beautiful. The tree is the same, only you have changed. Look at a flower as if your whole existence depends on this look. Bring all your awareness to the flower and suddenly the flower is transfigured -- it is more radiant, it is more luminous. It has something of the glory of the eternal, as if the eternal has come into the temporal in the shape of a flower.

Look at the face of your husband, your wife, your friend, your beloved, with alertness; meditate on it, and suddenly you see not only the body, but that which is beyond the body, which is coming out of the body. There is an aura around the body, of the spiritual. The face of the beloved is no more the face of your beloved; the face of the beloved has become the face of the divine. Look at your child. Watch him playing with full alertness, awareness, and suddenly the object is transfigured.

First start working with objects. That's why Patanjali talks about other samadhis before he talks about nirvichara samadhi, the samadhi without seed. Start with objects and move towards more subtle objects.

For example, a bird sings in the tree: be alert, as if in that moment you exist and the song of the bird-the whole doesn't exist, doesn't matter. Focus your being towards the song of the bird and you will see the difference. The traffic noise no more exists, or exists at the very periphery of existence, far away, distant, and the small bird and its song fills your being completely -- only you and the bird exist. And then when the song has stopped, listen to the absence of the song. Then the object becomes subtle, because...

Remember always: when a song stops it leaves a certain quality to the atmosphere -- of the absence. It is no more the same. The atmosphere has changed completely because the song existed and then the song disappears... now the absence of the song. Watch it -- the whole existence is filled by the absence of the song. And it is more beautiful than any song because it is the song of the silence. A song uses sound, and when the sound disappears the absence uses the silence. And after a bird has sung, the silence is deeper. If you can watch it, if you can be alert, you are now meditating on a very subtle object, a very subtle object. A person moves, a beautiful person moves -- watch the person. And when he has left, now watch the absence; he has left something. His energy has changed the room; it is no more the same room.

When Buddha was dying, Ananda asked him... he was crying and weeping, and he said, "What will happen to us now? You were here and we couldn't attain. Now you will be no more here; what we will do?" Buddha is reported to have said, "Now love my absence, be attentive to my absence." For five hundred years no statues were made so that the absence can be felt. And instead of statues only the bodhi tree was depicted. Temples existed, but not with a Buddha statue; just a bodhi tree, a stone bodhi tree, an absent Buddha underneath, and people will go and sit and watch the tree, and try to watch the absence of the Buddha under the tree. And many attained to very deep silence and meditation. Then, by and by, the subtle object was lost and people started talking: "What is there to meditate? Only a tree is there, but where is Buddha?" Because to feel a Buddha in his absence needs very, very deep clarity and attentiveness. Then, feeling that now people cannot meditate on the subtle absence, statues were created.

This you can do with any of your senses because people have different capacities and sensibilities. For example, if you have a musical ear, then it is good to watch and to be attentive to a song of a bird. For few seconds it is there, and then it is gone. Then watch the absence. And you will be thrilled if you can watch the absence. Suddenly the object has become very subtle. It will require more attention and more awareness than the actual song of the bird.

If you have a good nose... very few people have it; almost humanity has lost the nose completely. Animals are better; their smell is far sensitive, capable, than man. Something has happened to man's nose, something has gone wrong; very few people have a capable nose, but if you have -- then be near a flower, let the smell fill you. Then, by and by, you move away from the flower, very slowly, but continue being attentive to the smell, the fragrance. As you move away, the fragrance will become more and more subtle, and you will need more awareness to feel it. Become the nose. Forget about the whole body; bring all your energy to the nose, as if only the nose exists. And by and by, if you lose track of the smell, go few steps further ahead; again catch hold of the smell, then back, move backwards. By and by, you will be able to smell a flower from a very, very great distance -- nobody will be able to smell that flower from there. And then you go on moving. In a very simple way you are making the object subtle. And then a moment will come when you will not be able to smell the smell: now smell the absence. Now smell the absence where the fragrance was just a moment before, and it is no more there. That is the other part of its being, the absent part, the dark part. If you can smell the absence of the smell, if you can feel it, that it makes a difference, it makes a difference; then the object has become very subtle. Now it is reaching nearly the nirvichara state, the no-thought state of samadhi.

Mohammed has used -- only one enlightened person  -- perfume as an object of meditation. Islam has made it an object of meditation. It is beautiful.

And why smell has disappeared from man? There are many complex things involved in it, but I would like to tell you just by the way so you can remember them. And if you cross those barriers, suddenly your smell capacity will be back. It is suppressed.

You must be knowing that smell is deeply concerned with sex. Sex suppression has become the suppression of smell. Animals first smell the body before they make love. In fact they smell the sex center before they make love. If the sex center is giving them signals, that "Yes, you are accepted, allowed" -- only then they make love, otherwise not.

The human body also gives smells -- of invitation, of repulsion, attraction. The body has its own language and symbols, but in a society it will be very difficult if you can smell. If you are talking to a friend and his wife starts smelling and gives you invitation of sex, what you will do? -- it will be dangerous. So the only way civilization can cope with it is to destroy smell completely, because it is a sex-related phenomenon. You are passing by the road and a woman passes by: she may not be interested consciously in you, but she gives the smell, the invitation smell. What to do? You want to make love to your wife. She is your wife, so of course when you want to make love she has to make love, but her body gives you the signal of no love, no invitation, repulsion -- what you will do? And bodies are uncontrollable; you cannot control them just by mind. Smell became dangerous; it became sexual. It is sexual.

That's why on perfume the names are all sexual. Go to a store and look at the labels of perfumes-all are sexual. Perfume is sexual, and the nose is completely closed. Because Islam doesn't suppress sex, accepts it, and Islam doesn't deny sex, accepts it, and Islam is not for renouncing the world of sex, that's why Islam could give a little freedom to the sensibility of smell. No other religion in the world could do that.

But smell can become very, very beautiful if you make it an object of meditation. And it is a very subtle phenomenon, and, by and by, you can go to the subtlest.

Hindus have also used certain types of perfumes, particularly incense in the temples, but their incense is different. Just as there are sexual smells, there are spiritual, and both are related together. After a very long search Hindus discovered particular smells which are not sexual. Rather on the contrary, the energy moves upwards not downwards. Incense became very, very significant. In the temple they have been using it; it helps, just as there are musics which can make you sexual, and there are musics which can make you spiritual. Particularly modern music is very sexual; classical music is very spiritual. The same exists about all senses: there are paintings which can be spiritual, sexual; sounds, smells, which can be sexual, spiritual. Each sense has two possibilities: if the energy falls through it, downwards, then it is sexual; if the energy rises upwards, then it is spiritual.

You can do it with incense. Burn incense, meditate on it, feel it, smell it, be filled with it, and then move backwards, away from it. And go on, go on meditating on it; let it become more and more subtle. A moment comes when you can feel the absence of a certain thing. Then you have come to a very deep awareness.


But when the object completely disappears, the presence of the object disappears and the absence of the object disappears, thought disappears and no-thought disappears, mind disappears and the idea of no-mind disappears, only then you have attained to the utmost. Now this is the moment when suddenly grace descends on you. This is the moment when flowers shower. This is the moment when you are connected with the source of life and being. This is the moment when you are no more a beggar; you have become the emperor. This is the moment when you are crowned. Before it you were on a cross; this is the moment the cross disappears and you are crowned.


So truth is not a conclusion to be reached; truth is an experience to be attained. Truth is not something that you can think about; it is something that you can be. Truth is the experience of oneself being totally alone, without any object. Truth is you in your uttermost purity. Truth is not a philosophical conclusion. No syllogism can give you truth. No theory, no hypothesis can give you truth. Truth comes to you when mind disappears. Truth is already there hidden in the mind, and the mind won't allow you to look at it because mind is outgoing and helps you to look at objects.


Ritambhara is a very beautiful word; it is just like Tao. The word truth cannot explain it completely. In the Vedas it is called rit. Rit means the very foundation of the cosmos. Rit means the very law of existence. Rit is not just truth; truth is too dry a word and carries much of the logical quality in it. We say, "This is true and that is untrue," and we decide which theory is true and which theory is untrue. Truth carries much of the logic in it. It is a logical word. Rit means the law of the cosmic harmony, the law which moves the stars, the law through which seasons come and go, the sun rises and sets, and night follows day, and death follows birth. And mind creates the world and no-mind allows you to know that which is. Rit means the cosmic law, the very innermost core of existence.

Rather than calling it truth, it will be better to call i the very ground of being. Truth seems to be a distant thing, something that exists separate from you. Rit is your innermost being, and not only your innermost being, the innermost being of all, ritambhara. In nirvichara samadhi the consciousness is filled with ritambhara, the cosmic harmony. There is no discord, no conflict; everything has fallen in line. Even the wrong is absorbed, it is not discarded; even the bad is absorbed, it is not discarded; even the poison is absorbed, it is not discarded; nothing is discarded.

In truth, the untruth is discarded. In ritambhara, the whole is accepted, and the whole is such a harmonious phenomenon that even the poison plays its own part. Not only life but death also -- everything is seen in a new light. Even the misery, the dukkha, takes a new quality to it. Even the ugly becomes beautiful because in the moment of the dawning of ritambhara, you understand for the first time why the opposites exist. And opposites are no more opposites; they have all become complementaries, they help each other.

Now you don't have any complaint, no complaint against existence. Now you understand why things are as they are, why death exists. Now you know life cannot exist without death. And what life will be without death?-life will be simply unbearable without death; and life would be simply ugly without death -- just think!

There is a story about Alexander the Great, that he was in search to find something which can make him immortal. Everybody is in search of something like that, and when Alexander is in search, he will find it -- he was such a powerful man. He searched and searched, and once he reached to the cave where some wise man has told him that, "If you drink the water of that cave -- there is a stream in the cave -- you will become immortal." Alexander must have been foolish. All Alexanders are foolish, otherwise he should have asked the wise man whether he had drunk from that stream or not. He didn't ask; he was in such a hurry. And who knows? -- he may not be able to reach the cave, and before he dies... so he rushed.

He reached to the cave. Inside it, he was very happy: crystal clear the water was there; he had never seen such a water. And he was going to drink the water... suddenly a crow who was sitting in the cave said, "Stop! Don't do it. I have done and I am suffering." Alexander looked at the crow and said, "What are you saying? You have drunk, and what is the suffering?" He said, "Now I cannot die and I want to die. Everything is finished. I have known everything that life can give. I have known love and I have grown out of it. And I have known success; I was a king of crows, and now I am fed up, and I have known everything that can be known. And everybody I knew has died; they have gone back to rest, and I cannot rest. I have tried all efforts to commit suicide, but everything fails. I cannot die because I have drunk from this condemned cave. It is better that nobody knows about it. Before you drink, you meditate on my condition -- and then you can drink." It is said Alexander for the first time thought about it, and came back without drinking from that cave and that stream.

Life will be simply unbearable if there is no death. Love will be unbearable if there is no opposite to it. If you cannot separate from your beloved it will be unbearable; the whole thing will become so monotonous, it will create boredom. Life exists with the opposites -- that's why it is so interesting. Coming together and getting away, again coming together and getting away; rising and falling. Just think of a wave in the ocean which has risen and cannot fall, just think of a sun who has risen and cannot set. Movement from one polarity to another is the secret that life continues to be interesting. When one comes to know the ritambhara, the basic law of all, the very foundation of all, everything falls in line and one understands. Then one has no complaint. One accepts: whatsoever is, is beautiful.

That's why all those who have known they say life is perfect; you cannot improve upon it.


Call it Tao... Tao gives the meaning of ritambhara more correctly; but still if you can remain with the word ritambhara, it will be more beautiful. Let it remain there. Even the sound of it -- ritambhara has some quality of harmony. Truth is too much dry, a logical concept. If you can make something out of truth plus love, it will be nearer to ritambhara. It is the hidden harmony of Heraclitus, but this happens only when the object has completely disappeared. You are alone with your consciousness and there is nobody else. The mirror without reflection...


Next: Chapter 8, The Master appears: First Question


Energy Enhancement Enlightened Texts Yoga Yoga Sutras of Patanjali



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