Question 1 Maneesha has a question: OUR BELOVED MASTER, CAN IT HELP TO CONTEMPLATE ON A CONCEPT? IF THE CONCEPT IS JUST ONE'S INTELLECTUAL UNDERSTANDING, OR SOMEONE ELSE'S INSIGHT, WHAT IS THE VALUE? AND EVEN IF IT IS OUT OF ONE'S OWN INSIGHT, WHAT IS THE POINT? -- IF YOU HAVE KNOWN IT, YOU HAVE KNOWN IT. Maneesha, this not a question -- this is the answer. There is nothing to contemplate and there is nobody to contemplate. When you disappear with all your mind and not even a trace remains behind, just a pure sky... you have found. I will not say what, because the moment you say what you have found you defile it. It is inexpressible ecstasy. Thousands of buddhas have tried to bring it down to words; nobody has succeeded. It is just not in the nature of things that the ultimate ecstasy can be brought into words. Before we enter into, not contemplation, but meditation, I don't want you to be serious. I am so against seriousness -- it is a spiritual sickness. Laughter is spiritual health. And laughter is very unburdening. While you laugh, you can put your mind aside very easily. For a man who cannot laugh the doors of the buddha are closed. To me, laughter is one of the greatest values. No religion has ever thought about it. They have always been insisting on seriousness, and because of their insistence the whole world is psychologically sick. "Hey, listen to this, man!" says Starlight Butterfly, the aging hippy, passing a reefer to his friend, Golden Buffalo-Grass. "These guys at Ectoplasm Arcade are offering Astral Projection Tours." "Really?" says Golden Buffalo-Grass, puffing madly. "What does it say?" "It says," replies Butterfly, "if you are an average occult freak off the street, you are probably pretty good at popping out of your body and staring at yourself. Like acid, man -- you only do it so many times, then you get bored. "Wouldn't it be great if you could put your ability to some greater use than just hanging out in Nowhere's-Ville? How about a trip to the divine Deep-Space Disco, or the Big Dipper Dance Hall?" Coughing on his reefer, Butterfly reads on, "Now we introduce Astral Projection Tours. We get you to those far-out scenes where the physical body just can't make it. Pop out of your skinbag, and cruise to outta-sight places and meet strange beings. "Astral Projection Tours offers individual or group tours to the seven hells of Horowitz. Experience the mindless wanderings of Baba Rum-Raisin and space out for fun on Allah-Hoo Bandstand! -- all for only twenty dollars." "Wow, man! This is cool," shouts Buffalo-Grass, lighting another reefer. "This sounds far-out. I'm packing right now. I'm gonna drop my body and tune into the Cosmos!" "Hey, man!" shouts Butterfly, in a cloud of smoke, "where are you going?" "Going? I'm halfway there!" shouts Buffalo-Grass, swallowing his reefer and standing on his head. "I'm gonna take my astral ass and jog with Jesus, mule ride with Mohammed, and go bowling with Buddha!" Big black Leroy is trying to get religion, so he goes to a Holy Rollers meeting in a small southern Mississippi town. Sister Sara, a beautiful and shapely black girl, suddenly leaps to her feet and shouts, "Praise be to the Lord! Last night I was in the arms of Satan, and tonight I will be in the arms of Saint Peter!" "Sister," says Leroy quietly as the girl sits down, "so what are you doing tomorrow night?" When Madam Fifi's whorehouse is raided by the police, the whole place is in confusion. Somehow Pinky, the talking parrot, escapes and flies away. She lands in the graveyard and is immediately captured by the preacher's wife and put in a cage. "Polly wanna a cracker?" asks the preacher's wife, as Pinky sits in the cage above the piano. But Pinky says nothing. The days go by and Pinky sits silently in the cage wondering what has happened. One day there is a gathering of the church women's club, and amongst all the girls present, the discussion turns to silk underwear. "Look at this wonderful slip!" says Mrs. Jones, turning up the corner of her dress. "Ah! And look at these wonderful panties!" says Mrs. Foster, pulling her skirt all the way up. "Thank God!" sighs Pinky, eyeing Mrs. Foster. "Welcome home, girls! Anybody got a cigarette?" Nivedano... (Drumbeat) (Gibberish) Nivedano... (Drumbeat) Be silent. Mind you have thrown out. Close your eyes. Feel the body to be completely frozen. Look inwards. At the very center of your being, is the door of the buddhas. Deeper... and deeper. Without any fear, go in as far as you can. You will not meet anybody on the way except yourself. And meeting with oneself is the meaning of being a buddha. One who has encountered himself, realized himself, has become centered into himself, is a buddha. This is the potential of everyone. Just a little going in. The way is very short: from mind to no-mind. To make it clear, Nivedano... (Drumbeat) Relax. Feel the body to be completely dead. The head has fallen somewhere else and you are simply a watcher, not a doer; not a thinker, but just a witness. And the evening becomes beautiful. And you will come out completely drunk with the divine. You have to carry this silence, this suchness in every action, around the clock. There is no greater ecstasy, no greater blessing, than to have found your inner being -- the buddha. This moment you are all buddhas. This moment you are not separate from each other. It is an ocean of consciousness in which you are all dissolved. Let it sink deep in you that you are not separate from existence. Nivedano... (Drumbeat) Come back. But come back as buddhas, without any hesitation, in silence, in grace, in beauty. Just sit like buddhas for a few moments -- remembering, collecting the experience you have passed through. Slowly slowly it is going to become your very heartbeat. That day will be the most fortunate day in your life. Okay, Maneesha? Yes, Beloved Master. Can we celebrate the gathering of the buddhas? Yes, Beloved Master.
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Next: Chapter 6: Be a rare person
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