The Man of Tao

The man of tao acts without impediment,

Harms no other being by his actions,

Yet he does not know himself to be kind and gentle.

He does not struggle to make money,

And he does not make a virtue of poverty.

He goes his way without relying on others,

And does not pride himself on walking alone.

The man of tao remains unknown.

Perfect virtue produces nothing.

No self is true self.

And the greatest man is nobody.

The most difficult thing, the almost impossible thing for the mind, is to remain in the

middle, is to remain balanced. And to move from one thing to its opposite is the easiest.

To move from one polarity to the opposite polarity is the nature of the mind. This has to

be understood very deeply, because unless you understand this, nothing can lead you to

meditation.

Mind's nature is to move from one extreme to another. It depends on imbalance. If you

are balanced, mind disappears. Mind is like a disease: when you are imbalanced it is

there, when you are balanced, it is not there.

That is why it is easy for a person who overeats to go on a fast. It looks illogical, because

we think that a person who is obsessed with food cannot go on a fast. But you are wrong.

Only a person who is obsessed with food can fast, because fasting is the same obsession

in the opposite direction. It is not really changing yourself. You are still obsessed with

food. Before you were overeating; now you are hungry -- but the mind remains focused

on food from the opposite extreme.

A man who has been overindulging in sex can become a celibate very easily. There is no

problem. But it is difficult for the mind to come to the right diet, difficult for the mind to

stay in the middle.

Why is it difficult to stay in the middle? It is just like the pendulum of a clock. The

pendulum goes to the right, then it moves to the left, then again to the right, then again to

the left; the whole clock depends on this movement. If the pendulum stays in the middle,

the clock stops. And when the pendulum moves to the right, you think it is only going to

the right, but at the same time it is gathering momentum to go to the left. The more it

moves to the right, the more energy it gathers to move to the left, to the opposite. When it

is moving to the left it is again gathering momentum to move to the right.

Whenever you overeat, you are gathering momentum to go on a fast. Whenever you

overindulge in sex, sooner or later, BRAHMACHARYA, celibacy, will appeal to you.

And the same is happening from the opposite pole. Go and ask your so-called SADHUS,

your BHIKKUS, sannyasins. They have made it a point to remain celibate, now their

minds are gathering momentum to move into sex. They have made a point of being

hungry and starving, and their minds are constantly thinking about food. When you are

thinking about food too much it shows that you are gathering momentum for it. Thinking

means momentum. The mind starts arranging for the opposite.

One thing: whenever you move, you are also moving to the opposite. The opposite is

hidden, it is not apparent.

When you love a person you are gathering momentum to hate him. That's why only

friends can become enemies. You cannot suddenly become an enemy unless you have

first become a friend. Lovers quarrel, fight. Only lovers can quarrel and fight, because

unless you love, how can you hate? Unless you have moved far to the extreme left, how

can you move to the right? Modern research says that so-called love is a relationship of

intimate enmity. Your wife is your intimate enemy, your husband is your intimate enemy

-- both intimate and inimical. They appear opposites, illogical, because we wonder how

one who is intimate can be the enemy; one who is a friend, how can he also be the foe?

Logic is superficial, life goes deeper, and in life all opposites are joined together, they

exist together. Remember this, because then meditation becomes balancing.

Buddha taught eight disciplines, and with each discipline he used the word right. He said:

Right effort, because it is very easy to move from action to inaction, from waking to

sleep, but to remain in the middle is difficult. When Buddha used the word right he was

saying: Don't move to the opposite, just stay in the middle. Right food -- he never said to

fast. Don't indulge in too much eating and don't indulge in fasting. He said: Right food.

Right food means standing in the middle.

When you are standing in the middle you are not gathering any momentum. And this is

the beauty of it -- a man who is not gathering any momentum to move anywhere, can be

at ease with himself, can be at home.

You can never be at home, because whatsoever you do you will immediately have to do

the opposite to balance. And the opposite never balances, it simply gives you the

impression that you are becoming balanced, but you will have to move to the opposite

again.

A buddha is neither a friend to anyone nor an enemy. He has simply stopped in the

middle -- the clock is not functioning.

It is said about one Hassid mystic, Muzheed, that when he attained enlightenment

suddenly the clock on his wall stopped. It may or may not have happened, because it is

possible, but the symbolism is clear: when your mind stops, time stops; when the

pendulum stops, the clock stops. From then on the clock never moved, from then on it

always showed the same time.

Time is created by the movement of the mind, just like the movement of the pendulum.

Mind moves, you feel time. When mind is nonmoving, how can you feel time? When

there is no movement, time cannot be felt. Scientists and mystics agree on this point: that

movement creates the phenomenon of time. If you are not moving, if you are still, time

disappears, eternity comes into existence.

Your clock is moving fast, and its mechanism is movement from one extreme to another.

The second thing to be understood about mind is that the mind always longs for the

distant, never for the near. The near gives you boredom, you are fed up with it; the distant

gives you dreams, hopes, possibility of pleasure. So the mind always thinks of the distant.

It is always somebody else's wife who is attractive, beautiful; it is always somebody else's

house which obsesses you; it is always somebody else's car which fascinates you. It is

always the distant. You are blind to the near. The mind cannot see that which is very

near. It can only see that which is very far.

And what is the furthest, the most distant? The opposite is the most distant. You love a

person -- now hatred is the most distant phenomenon; you are overeating -- now fasting is

the most distant phenomenon; you are celibate -- now sex is the most distant

phenomenon; you are a king -- now to be a monk is the most distant phenomenon.

The most distant is the most dreamy. It attracts, it obsesses, it goes on calling, inviting

you, and then when you have reached the other pole, this place from where you have

traveled will become beautiful again. Divorce your wife, and after a few years the wife

has again gained beauty.

A film actress came to me. She had divorced her husband fifteen years ago. Now she is

old, less beautiful than she was when she and her husband were separated. Their son was

married last year, so at the marriage she met her husband again, and they had to travel

together. The husband fell in love with her again, so she came to me and asked, "What

should I do? Now he is proposing again, he wants to get married to me again."

She was also fascinated. She was just waiting for me to say yes. I said, "But you lived

together, there was always conflict and nothing else. I know the whole story -- how you

were fighting, quarreling, how you created hell and misery for each other. Now again...?"

For the mind the opposite is magnetic, and unless through understanding you transcend

this, the mind will go on moving from left to right, from right to left, and the clock will

continue.

It has continued for many lives, and this is how you have been deceiving yourself --

because you don't understand the mechanism. Again the distant becomes appealing, again

you start traveling. The moment you reach your goal that which you used to know is now

distant, now has appeal, now becomes a star, something worthwhile.

I was reading about a pilot who was flying over California with a friend. He told the

friend, "Look down at that beautiful lake. I was born near it, that is my village."

He pointed to a small village just perched in the hills near the lake, and he said, "I was

born there. When I was a child I used to sit near the lake and fish; fishing was my hobby.

But at that time, when I was a child fishing near the lake, always airplanes used to fly in

the sky, passing overhead, and I would dream of the day when I would become a pilot

myself, I would be piloting an airplane. That was my only dream. Now it is fulfilled, and

what misery! Now I am continuously looking down at the lake and thinking about when I

will retire and go fishing again. That lake is so beautiful...."

This is how things are happening. This is how things are happening to you. In childhood,

you long to grow up fast because older people are more powerful. A child longs to grow

up immediately. Old people are wise, and the child feels that whatsoever he does, it is

always wrong. And then ask the old man -- he always thinks that when childhood was

lost, everything was lost; paradise was there in childhood. And all the old men die

thinking of childhood, the innocence, the beauty, the dreamland.

Whatsoever you have looks useless, whatsoever you don't have looks useful. Remember

this, otherwise meditation cannot happen, because meditation means this understanding

of the mind, the working of the mind, the very process of the mind.

The mind is dialectical, it makes you move again and again towards the opposite. And

this is an infinite process, it never ends unless you suddenly drop out of it, unless you

suddenly become aware of the game, unless you suddenly become aware of the trick of

the mind, and you stop in the middle.

Stopping in the middle is meditation.

Thirdly, because mind consists of polarities, you are never whole. The mind cannot be

whole; it is always half. When you love someone have you observed that you are

suppressing your hatred? The love is not total, it is not whole; just behind it all the dark

forces are hidden and they may erupt any moment. You are sitting on a volcano.

When you love someone, you simply forget that you have anger, you have hate, you have

jealousy. You simply drop them as if they never existed. But how can you drop them?

You can simply hide them in the unconscious. Just on the surface you can become loving,

deep down the turmoil is hidden. Sooner or later you will be fed up, the beloved will

become familiar.

They say that familiarity breeds contempt, but it is not that familiarity breeds contempt --

familiarity makes you bored, contempt has always been there, hidden. It comes up, it was

waiting for the right moment; the seed was there.

The mind always has the opposite within it, and that opposite goes into the unconscious

and waits for its moment to come up. If you observe minutely, you will feel it every

moment. When you say to someone, I love you, close your eyes, be meditative, and feel -

- is there any hatred hidden? You will feel it. But because you want to deceive yourself,

because the truth is so ugly -- the truth that you hate a person that you love -- you don't

want to face it. You want to escape from real-ity, so you hide it. But hiding won't help,

because it is not deceiving somebody else, it is deceiving yourself.

So whenever you feel something, just close the eyes and go into yourself to find the

opposite somewhere. It is there. And if you can see the opposite, that will give you a

balance, then you will not say, "I love you." If you are truthful you will say, "My

relationship with you is of love and hate."

All relationships are love/hate relationships. No relationship is of pure love, and no

relationship is of pure hate. It is both love and hate. If you are truthful you will be in

difficulty. If you say to a girl, "My relationship with you is of both love and hate. I love

you as I have never loved anybody and I hate you as I have never hated anybody," it will

be difficult for you to get married unless you find a meditative girl who can understand

the reality; unless you can find a friend who can understand the complexity of the mind.

Mind is not a simple mechanism, it is very complex, and through mind you can never

become simple because mind goes on creating deceptions. To be meditative means to be

aware of the fact that mind is hiding something from you, you are closing your eyes to

some facts which are disturbing. Sooner or later those disturbing facts will erupt,

overpower you, and you will move to the opposite. And the opposite is not there in a

distant faraway place, in some star; the opposite is hidden behind you, in you, in your

mind, in the very functioning of the mind. If you can understand this, you will stop in the

middle.

If you can see I love and I hate, suddenly both will disappear, because both cannot exist

together in the consciousness. You have to create a barrier: one has to exist in the

unconscious and one in the conscious. Both cannot exist in the conscious, they will

negate each other. The love will destroy hate, the hate will destroy love; they will balance

each other, and they will simply disappear. The same amount of hate and the same

amount of love will negate each other. Suddenly they will evaporate -- you will be there,

but no love and no hate. Then you are balanced.

When you are balanced, mind is not there -- then you are whole. When you are whole,

you are holy, but mind is not there. So meditation is a state of no-mind. Through mind it

is not achieved. Through mind, whatever you do, it can never be achieved. Then what are

you doing when you are meditating?

Because you have created so much tension in your life, you are now meditating. But this

is the opposite of tension, not real meditation. You are so tense that meditation has

become attractive. That is why in the West meditation appeals more than in the East,

because more tension exists there than in the East. The East is still relaxed, people are not

so tense, they don't go mad so easily, they don't commit suicide so easily. They are not so

violent, not so aggressive, not so scared, not so fearful -- no, they are not so tense. They

are not living at such a mad speed where nothing but tension is accumulated.

So if Mahesh Yogi comes to India, nobody listens. But in America, people are mad about

him. When there is much tension, meditation will appeal. But this appeal is again falling

into the same trap. This is not real meditation, this is again a trick. You meditate for a few

days, you become relaxed; when you become relaxed, again the need for activity arises,

and the mind starts thinking of doing something, of moving. You get bored with it.

People come to me and say, "We meditated for a few years, then it became boring, then

there was no more fun."

Just the other day a girl came to me and said, "Now meditation is not fun anymore, what

should I do?"

Now the mind is seeking something else, now it has had enough of meditation. Now that

she is at ease, the mind is asking for more tensions -- something to get disturbed about.

When she says that now meditation is no more fun, she means that now the tension is not

there, so how can the meditation be fun? She will have to move into tension again, then

meditation will again become something worthwhile.

Look at the absurdity of the mind: you have to go away to come near, you have to

become tense to be meditative. But then this is not meditation, then again this is a trick of

the same mind; on a new level the same game continues.

When I say meditation, I mean going beyond the game of the polar opposites; dropping

out of the whole game, looking at the absurdity of it and transcending it. The very

understanding becomes transcendence.

The mind will force you to move to the opposite -- don't move to the opposite. Stop in the

middle and see that this has always been the trick of the mind. This is how mind has

dominated you -- through the opposite. Have you felt it?

After making love to a woman you suddenly start thinking of brahmacharya, and

brahmacharya has such an alluring fascination at that moment that you feel as if there is

nothing else to achieve. You feel frustrated, deceived, you feel that there was nothing in

this sex, only brahmacharya has the bliss. But after twenty-four hours, sex again becomes

important, significant, and again you have to move into it.

What is the mind doing? After the sex act it started thinking about the opposite, which

again creates the taste for sex.

A violent man starts thinking about nonviolence, then he can be violent again easily. A

man who gets angry again and again always thinks of non-anger, always decides not to be

angry again. This decision helps him to be angry again.

If you really want not to be angry again don't decide against anger. Just look into the

anger and just look at the shadow of the anger which you think is non-anger. Look into

sex, and at the shadow of sex, which you think is brahmacharya, celibacy. It is just

negativity, absence. Look at overeating, and the shadow of it -- fasting. Fasting always

follows overeating; overindulgence is always followed by vows of celibacy; tension is

always followed by some techniques of meditation. Look at them together, feel how they

are related; they are part of one process.

If you can understand this, meditation will happen to you. Really, it is not something to

be done, it is a point of understanding. It is not an effort, it is nothing to be cultivated. It

is something to be deeply understood.

Understanding gives freedom. Knowledge of the whole mechanism of the mind is

transformation. Then suddenly the clock stops, time disappears: and with the stopping of

the clock, there is no mind. With the stopping of time, where are you? The boat is empty.

Now we will enter this sutra of Chuang Tzu:

The man of tao acts without impediment,

Harms no other being by his actions,

Yet he does not know himself to be kind and gentle.

The man of tao acts without impediment.... You act always with

impediment, the opposite is always there creating the impediment; you are not a flow.

If you love, the hate is always there as an impediment. If you move, something is holding

you back; you never move totally, something is always left, the movement is not total.

You move with one leg but the other leg is not moving. How can you move? The

impediment is there.

And this impediment, this continuous moving of the half and nonmoving of the other

half, is your anguish, your anxiety. Why are you in so much anguish? What creates so

much anxiety in you? Whatsoever you do, why is bliss not happening through it? Bliss

can happen only to the whole, never to the part.

When the whole moves without any impediment the very movement is bliss. Bliss is not

something that comes from outside -- it is the feeling that comes when your whole being

moves, the very movement of the whole is bliss. It is not something happening to you, it

arises out of you, it is a harmony in your being.

If you are divided -- and you are always divided: half-moving, half-withholding, half

saying yes, half saying no, half in love, half in hate, you are a divided kingdom -- there is

constant conflict in you. You say something but you never mean it, because the opposite

is there impeding, creating a hindrance.

Baal Shem's disciples used to write down whatsoever he said, and Baal Shem used to say:

I know that whatsoever you are writing is not what has been said by me. You have heard

one thing, I have said something else, and you are writing still something else. And if you

look at the meaning, the meaning is something else again. You will never do what you

have written, you will do something else -- fragments, not an integrated being.

Why are these fragments there?

Have you heard the story about the centipede? A centipede was walking along on his one

hundred legs -- that is why he is called a centipede. It is a miracle to walk with a hundred

feet, even to manage two is so difficult! To manage one hundred legs is really almost

impossible. But the centipede has been managing to do it!

A fox became curious -- and foxes are always curious. The fox is the symbol in folklore

of the mind, of the intellect, of logic. Foxes are great logicians.The fox looked, she

observed, she analyzed, she couldn't believe it. She said, "Wait! I have a question. How

do you manage, and how do you know which foot has to follow which? One hundred

legs! You walk so smoothly. How does this harmony happen?"

The centipede said, "I have been walking all my life but I have never thought about it.

Give me a little time."

So he closed his eyes and for the first time he became divided: the mind as observer, and

himself as the observed. For the first time the centipede became two. He had always been

living and walking, and his life was one whole; there was no observer standing looking at

himself, he was never divided, he had been an integrated being. Now, for the first time,

division arose. He was looking at his own self, thinking. He had become subject and

object, he had become two, and then he started walking. It was difficult, almost

impossible. He fell down -- because how do you manage one hundred legs?

The fox laughed and he said, "I knew it must be difficult, I knew it beforehand."

The centipede started crying and weeping. With tears in his eyes he said, "It has never

been difficult before, but you have created the problem. Now I will never be able to walk

again."

The mind has come into being; it comes into being when you are divided. The mind feeds

on division. That is why Krishnamurti keeps saying that when the observer has become

the observed you are in meditation.

The opposite happened to the centipede. The wholeness was lost, he became two: the

observer and the observed, divided; the subject and the object, the thinker and the

thought. Then everything was disturbed, then bliss was lost and the flow stopped. Then

he got frozen.

Whenever the mind comes in, it comes as a controlling force, a manager. It is not the

master, it is the manager. And you cannot get to the master unless this manager is put

aside. The manager won't allow you to reach the master, the manager will always be

standing in the doorway managing. And all managers only mismanage -- mind has done

such a great job of mismanaging.

Poor centipede. He had always been happy. He had no problems at all. He lived, moved,

loved, everything, no problems at all, because there was no mind. Mind came in with the

problem, with the question, with the inquiry. And there are many foxes around you.

Beware of them -- philosophers, theologians, logicians, professors all around you --

foxes. They ask you questions and they create a disturbance.

Chuang Tzu's master, Lao Tzu, said: When there was not a single philosopher, everything

was solved, there were no questions, and all answers were available. When philosophers

arose, questions came and answers disappeared. Whenever there is a question the answer

is very far away. Whenever you ask, you will never get the answer, but when you stop

asking, you will find that the answer has always been there.

I do not know what happened to this centipede. If he was as foolish as human beings, he

would be somewhere in a hospital, crippled, paralyzed forever. But I don't think that

centipedes are so foolish. He must have thrown the question out. He must have told the

fox, "Keep your questions to yourself, and let me walk." He must have come to know that

division wouldn't allow him to live, because division creates death. Undivided you are

life, divided you become dead -- the more divided, the more dead.

What is bliss? Bliss is the feeling that comes to you when the obser-ver has become the

observed. Bliss is the feeling that comes to you when you are in harmony, not

fragmented; one, not disintegrated, not divided. Feeling is not something that happens

from the outside. It is the melody that arises out of your inner harmoniousness.

Says Chuang Tzu:

The man of tao acts without impediment....

He is not divided so who is there to impede? What is there to function as an impediment?

He is alone, he moves with his wholeness. This movement in wholeness is the greatest

beauty that can happen, that is possible. Sometimes you have glimpses of it. Sometimes

when you are suddenly whole, when the mind is not functioning, it happens.

The sun is rising...suddenly you look, and the observer is not there. The sun is not there

and you are not there, there is no observer and no observed. Simply the sun is rising and

your mind is not there to manage. You don't see it and say, "The sun is beautiful." The

moment you say it the bliss is lost. Then there is no bliss, it has already become the past,

it is already gone.

Suddenly you see the sun rising, and the seer is not there; the seer has not yet come into

being, it has not become a thought. You have not looked, you have not analyzed, you

have not observed. The sun is rising and there is no one, the boat is empty; there is bliss,

a glimpse. But the mind immediately comes in, and says, "The sun is beautiful, this

sunrise is so beautiful." The comparison has come in and the beauty is lost.

Those who know say that whenever you say "I love you" to a person, the love is lost. The

love has already gone because the lover has come in. How can love exist when the

division, the manager, has come in? It is the mind which says "I love you," because,

really, in love there is no I and no thou. In love there are no individuals. Love is a

melting, a merging, they are not two.

Love exists, not the lovers. In love, love exists not the lovers, but the mind comes in and

says, "I am in love, I love you." When 'I' comes, doubt enters; division comes in and love

is there no more.

You will come many times to such glimpses in your meditation. Remember, whenever

you feel such a glimpse, don't say, "How beautiful!" don't say, "How lovely!" because

this is how you will lose it. Whenever the glimpse comes, let the glimpse be there. Don't

do what the centipede did -- don't raise any question, don't make any observation, don't

analyze, don't allow the mind to come in. Walk with a hundred legs, but don't think about

how you are walking.

When in meditation you have the glimpse of some ecstasy, let it happen, let it go deep.

Don't divide yourself. Don't make any statement, otherwise the contact is lost.

Sometimes you have glimpses, but you have become so efficient at losing your contact

with those glimpses that you cannot understand how they come and how you lose them

again. They come when you are not, you lose them when you come again. When you are,

they are not. When the boat is empty, bliss is always happening. It is not an accident, it is

the very nature of existence. It doesn't depend on anything -- it is a showering, it is the

very breath of life.

It is really a miracle how you have managed to be so miserable, so thirsty, when it is

raining everywhere. You have really done the impossible! Light is everywhere and you

live in darkness; death is nowhere and you are constantly dying; life is a benediction and

you are in hell.

How have you managed it? Through division, through thinking.... Thinking depends on

division, analysis; meditation is when there is no analysis, no division, when everything

has become synthesized, when everything has become one.

Says Chuang Tzu:

The man of tao acts without impediment,

Harms no other being by his actions.

How can he do harm? You can harm others only when you have already harmed yourself.

Remember this; this is the secret. If you harm yourself, you will harm others. And you

will harm even when you think you are doing good to others. Nothing can happen

through you but harm, because one who lives with wounds, one who lives in anguish and

misery, whatsoever he does he will create more misery and anguish for others. You can

give only that which you have got.

I have heard that once a beggar came to a synagogue and he told the rabbi, "I am a great

musician, and I have heard that the musician who belonged to this synagogue is dead, and

you are looking for another. So I offer myself."

The rabbi and the congregation were happy because they were really missing their music.

Then the man played -- it was horrible! It was more musical without his music. He

created a hell. It was impossible to feel any silence in that synagogue that morning. He

had to be stopped, because most of the congregation started to leave. People escaped as

fast as they could because his music was just anarchic, it was like madness, and it started

to affect people.

When the rabbi heard that everybody was leaving, he went to the man and stopped him.

The man said, "If you don't want me, you can pay for this morning and then I will go."

The rabbi said, "It is impossible to pay you, we have never experienced such a horrible

thing."

Then the musician said, "Okay, then keep it as a contribution from me."

The rabbi said, "But how can you contribute what you don't possess? You don't have any

music at all -- how can you contribute? You can contribute something only when you

have got it. This is no music; rather, on the contrary, it is something like antimusic. So

please take it away with you, don't contribute it to us or it will go on haunting us."

You give only that which you have. You always give your being. If you are dead within,

you cannot help life; wherever you go you will kill. Knowingly, unknowingly, that is not

the point -- you may think that you are helping others to live, but still you will kill.

A great psychoanalyst, Wilhelm Reich, who was studying children and their problems,

was asked once, "What is the most basic problem with children? What do you find at the

root of all their miseries, problems, abnormalities?"

He said, "The mothers."

No mother can agree with this, because every mother feels that she is just helping her

children without any selfishness on her part. She is living and dying for the child. And

psychoanalysts say mothers are the problem. Unknowingly they are killing, crippling;

knowingly they think they are loving.

If you are crippled within, you will cripple your children. You cannot do anything else,

you can't help it, because you give out of your being -- there is no other way to give.

Says Chuang Tzu: the man of tao...harms no other being by his

Actions. Not that he cultivates nonviolence, not that he cultivates compassion, not that

he lives a good life, not that he behaves in a saintly way -- no. He cannot harm because

he has stopped harming himself. He has no wounds. He is so blissful that from his actions

or inactions only bliss flows. Even though it may appear sometimes that he is doing

something wrong, he cannot.

It is just the opposite with you. Sometimes it appears that you are doing something good.

You cannot. The man of Tao cannot do harm, it is impossible. There is no way to do it, it

is inconceivable -- because he is without divisions, fragments. He is not a crowd, he is

not polypsychic. He is a universe now and nothing other than melody is happening inside.

Only this music goes on spreading.

The man of Tao is not one of much action -- he is not a man of action, the least possible

action happens through him. He is really a man of inaction, he is not much occupied with

activity.

But you are occupied with activity just to escape from yourself. You cannot tolerate

yourself, you cannot tolerate the company of yourself. You keep looking for somebody as

an escape, some occupation in which you can forget yourself, in which you can get

involved. You are so bored with yourself.

A man of Tao, a man who has attained the inner nature, a man who is really religious, is

not a man of much activity. Only the necessary will happen. The unnecessary is cut out

completely, because he can be at ease without activity, he can be at home without doing

anything, he can relax, he can be company for himself, he can be with his self.

You cannot be with yourself, hence the constant urge to seek company. Go to a club, go

to a meeting, go to a party, move into the crowd, where you are not alone. You are so

afraid of yourself that if you are left alone you will go mad. In just three weeks if you are

left absolutely alone without any activity, you will go mad. And this is not something

said by religious people, now psychologists agree to it. For only three weeks, if all

activity, if all company, is taken from you, if you are left alone in a room, within three

weeks you will be mad -- because all your activity is just to throw out your madness, it is

a catharsis.

What will you do when you are alone? For the first three or four days you will dream and

talk within, an inner chattering. Then this will become boring. After the first week you

will start talking aloud because at least you will hear the sound of your own voice. When

you walk along a dark street at night you start whistling. Why? How is this whistling

going to give you courage? How is this whistling going to help you? Just listening to it

you feel that you are not alone, somebody is whistling. The illusion of two is created!

After the first week you will start talking aloud because then you can also listen. You are

not alone, you are talking and you are listening as if somebody else is talking to you.

After the second week you will start answering yourself. You will not only talk, you will

answer -- you are divided. Now you are two; one who questions, one who answers. Now

there is a dialogue -- you have gone completely crazy.

A man asked his psychiatrist, "I am very worried, I talk to myself. What should I do? Can

you help me?"

The psychiatrist said, "This is nothing to be worried about. Everybody talks to himself,

this is not a big problem. Only when you start answering, then come to me, then I can be

of help."

But the difference is only of degree; it is not of kind, it is only of quantity. If you start

talking to yourself, sooner or later you will start answering also, because how can one go

on simply talking? The answer is needed, otherwise you will feel foolish. By the third

week you start answering -- you have gone crazy.

This world, the world of activity, business and occupation, saves you from the madhouse.

If you are occupied, energy moves out; then you need not care about the inward, the inner

world, you can forget it.

A man of Tao is not a man of much activity -- only the essential activity. It is said of

Chuang Tzu that if he could stand, he would not walk, if he could sit, he would not stand,

if he could fall asleep, he would not sit. The essential, the most essential, only the must

would he do, because there is no madness in it.

You do the nonessential, you keep on doing the nonessential. Look at your activities:

ninety-nine percent are nonessential. You can drop them, you can save much energy, you

can save much time. But you cannot drop them because you are afraid, you are scared of

yourself. If there is no radio, no television, no newspaper, nobody to talk to, what will

you do?

I have heard about a priest who died. Of course, he expected to go to paradise, to heaven.

He arrived there and everything was beautiful. The house he entered was one of the most

wonderful ever dreamed of, palatial. And the moment a desire came, immediately a

servant appeared. If he was hungry, a servant was there with the food, the most delicious

he had ever tasted. If he was thirsty, even before the desire had become a thought, while

it was just the feeling, a man would appear with drinks.

So it continued and he was very happy for two or three days, and then he began to feel

uneasy because a man has to do something, you cannot just sit in a chair. Only a man of

Tao can just sit in a chair and go on sitting and sitting and sitting. You cannot.

The priest became uneasy. For two or three days it is okay as a holiday, as a rest. He had

been so active -- so much public service, mission, church, delivering sermons; he had

been so involved with society and the community, so he rested. But how much can you

rest? Unless your being is at rest, sooner or later the holiday ends, and you have to come

back to the world. Uneasiness arose; he started feeling discomfort.

Suddenly the servant appeared and asked, "What do you want? This feeling of yours is

not a want, you are neither thirsty nor hungry, just uneasy. So what should I do?"

The priest said, "I cannot sit here forever and forever, for eternity, I want some activity."

The servant said, "That is impossible. All your desires will be fulfilled here by us, so

what need is there for activity? There is no need, that is why it is not provided here."

The priest became very uneasy and he said, "What type of heaven is this?"

The servant replied, "Who said this is heaven? This is hell. Who told you this is heaven?"

And this really was hell. Now he understood: without activity, this was hell. He must

have gone mad sooner or later. No communication or talk, no social service to be done,

no pagans to be converted to Christianity, no foolish people to be made wise -- what

could he do?

Only a man of Tao could have changed that hell into a heaven. A man of Tao, wherever

he is, is at peace, at ease. Only the essential is done, and if you can do the essential for

him, he is happy. The nonessential is dropped.

You cannot drop the nonessential. Really, ninety-nine percent of your energy is wasted

on the nonessential. The essential is not enough, and the mind always hankers for the

nonessential, because the essential is so little, so small, it can be fulfilled easily. Then

what will you do?

People are not very interested in having good food. They are more interested in having a

big car because good food can be attained very easily. Then what? People are not

interested in having good healthy bodies. That can be attained very easily. They are

interested in something which cannot be attained so easily, something impossible, and the

nonessential is always the impossible. There are always bigger houses, bigger cars, they

go on getting bigger and bigger and you are never allowed to rest.

The whole world is trying to fulfill the nonessential. Ninety percent of industry is

involved with the nonessential. Fifty percent of human labor is wasted on that which is

not useful in any way. Fifty percent of industry is devoted to the feminine mind, rather,

feminine body: designing new dresses every three months, designing new houses,

clothes, powders, soaps, creams; fifty percent of industry is devoted to such nonsense.

And humanity is starving, people are dying without food, and half of humanity is

interested in the absolutely nonessential.

To reach the moon is absolutely nonessential. If we were a little wiser we would not even

think about it. It is absolutely foolish wasting as much money as could feed the whole

earth. Wars are nonessential, but humanity is mad, and it needs wars more than food. It

needs to go to the moon more than food, more than clothes, more than the essential,

because the essential is not enough.

And now science has created the greatest horror, and that horror is that now the essential

can be fulfilled very easily. Within ten years, all humanity's needs can be fulfilled, this

whole earth can be satisfied as far as the necessities are concerned. Then what? Then

what will you do? You will feel in the same position as the priest. He thought that he was

in heaven, and then he found that it was hell. Within ten years the whole earth can

become a hell.

The nonessential is needed for your madness to remain engaged. So moons are not

enough, we will have to go further, we will have to go on creating the useless. It is

needed. People need it to be occupied.

A man of Tao is not a man of much activity. His actions are the most essential -- those

which cannot be avoided. That which can be avoided, he avoids. He is so happy with

himself there is no need to move in actions. His activity is like inactivity; he does without

there being anybody doing.

He is an empty boat, moving on the sea, not going anywhere.

Yet he does not know himself to be kind and gentle.

Allow this point to penetrate deep into your heart. Yet he does not know

Himself to be kind and gentle -- because if you know, you have missed the

point; if you know that you are a simple man, you are not. This knowledge makes it

complex. If you know that you are a man of religion, you are not, because this cunning

mind which knows is still there.

When you are gentle, and you don't know, when you are simple, and you are not aware of

it, it has become your nature. When something is really natural you are not aware of it,

but when something is imposed, you are aware of it. When somebody becomes rich,

newly rich, he is aware of his house, of his swimming pool, of his riches, and you can see

that he is not an aristocrat, because he is so concerned with show.

A newly rich man ordered three swimming pools for his garden. They were made and he

was showing them to a friend. The friend was a little puzzled. He said, "Three swimming

pools? For what? One will do."

The newly rich man said, "No, how can one do? One for hot baths, one for cold baths."

His friend asked, "And the third?"

He answered, "For those who cannot swim. So the third swimming pool is going to stay

empty."

You can see if a man has newly acquired wealth -- he will be showing it. A real aristocrat

is one who has forgotten that he is rich. A man of Tao is the aristocrat of the inner world.

If a person shows his religion he is not yet really religious. The religion is still like a

thorn, it is not natural, it hurts, he is eager to show it. If you want to show your simplicity

what type of simplicity is this? If you exhibit your gentleness, then it is simply cunning,

nothing gentle exists in it.

A man of Tao is an aristocrat of the inner world. He is so attuned to it, there is no

exhibition -- not only to you, he himself is not aware of it. He does not know that he is

wise, he does not know that he is innocent -- how can you know if you are innocent?

Your knowledge will disturb the innocence.

A follower of Hazrat Mohammed went with him to the mosque for early morning prayer.

It was summer, and on the way back they saw many people still asleep in their houses or

just on the street. It was early morning, a summer morning, and many people were still

asleep. The man very arrogantly said to Hazrat Mohammed, "What will happen to these

sinners? They have not been to the morning prayer."

Today was the first time he himself had gone to prayer. Yesterday he was also asleep like

these sinners. The newly rich man wanted to exhi-bit, to show off to Mohammed:

"Mohammed Hazrat, what will happen to these sinners? They have not been to the

morning prayer, they are still lazy and asleep."

Mohammed stopped and said, "You go home, I will have to go back to the mosque

again."

The man said, "Why?"

He replied, "My morning prayer is wasted because of you; keeping company with you

has destroyed everything. I will have to do my prayer again. And as for you, remember

please never to come again. It was better for you to be asleep like the others; at least they

were not sinners then. Your prayer has done only one thing -- it has given you the key to

condemn others."

The so-called religious person is religious only to look at you with a condemning eye so

he can say that you are sinners. Go to your saints, so-called saints, and look into their

eyes. You will not find the innocence that should be there. You will find a calculating

mind looking at you and thinking about hell: You will be thrown in hell and I will be in

heaven, because I have been praying so much, five times a day, and I have been fasting

so much. As if you can purchase heaven...! These are the coins -- fasting, prayer -- these

are the coins one is trying to bargain with.

If you see condemnation in the eyes of a saint, know well that he is a newly rich man; he

is not yet an aristocrat of the inner world, he has not yet become one with it. He may

know it -- but you know something only when it is separate from you.

One thing has to be remembered here: because of this, self-knowledge is impossible. You

cannot know the self, because whenever you know it, it is not the self, it is something

else, something separate from you. The self is always the knower, never the known, so

how can you know it? You cannot reduce it to an object.

I can see you. How can I see myself? Then who will be the seer and who will be the

seen? No, the self cannot be known in the same way that other things are known.

Self-knowledge is not possible in the ordinary sense, because the knower always

transcends, always goes beyond. Whatsoever it knows, it is not that. The Upanishads say:

NETI NETI -- not this, not that. Whatsoever you know, you are not this; whatsoever you

don't know, you are not that either. You are the one who knows, and this knower cannot

be reduced to a known object.

Self-knowledge is not possible. If your innocence comes out of your inner source you

cannot know it. If you have imposed it from the outside you can know it; if it is just like a

dress you have put on you know it, but it is not the very breath of your life. That

innocence is cultivated, and a cultivated innocence is an ugly thing.

A man of Tao does not know himself to be kind and gentle. He IS gentle, but he doesn't

know; he is kind, but he doesn't know; he is love, but he doesn't know -- because the

lover and the knower are not two, the gentleness, the kindness, the compassion and the

knower, are not two. No, they cannot be divided into the known and the knower. This is

the inner aristocracy: when you have become so rich you are not aware of it. When you

are that rich, there is no need to exhibit it.

I have heard:

It happened once that Henry Ford came to England. At the airport inquiry office he asked

for the cheapest hotel in town. The clerk in the office looked -- the face was famous.

Henry Ford was known all over the world. Just the day before there were big pictures of

him in the newspapers saying that he was coming. And here he was, asking for the

cheapest hotel, wearing a coat that looked as old as he himself.

So the clerk said, "If I am not mistaken, you are Mr. Henry Ford. I remember well, I have

seen your picture."

The man said, "Yes."

This puzzled the clerk very much, and he said, "You are asking for the cheapest hotel,

wearing a coat that looks as old as you yourself. I have also seen your son coming here,

and he always inquires about the best hotel, and he comes in the best of clothes."

Henry Ford is reported to have said, "Yes, my son's behavior is exhibitionist, he is not yet

attuned. There is no need for me to stay in a costly hotel; wherever I stay I am Henry

Ford. Even in the cheapest hotel I am Henry Ford, it makes no difference. My son is still

new, afraid of what people will think if he stays in a cheap hotel. And this coat, yes, this

belonged to my father -- but it makes no difference, I don't need new clothes. I am Henry

Ford, whatsoever the dress; even if I am standing naked, I am Henry Ford. It makes no

difference at all."

When you are really attuned, really rich in the inner world, you are not concerned with

exhibition. When you first go to a temple, your prayer is a little louder than others. It has

to be. You want to show off.

The showmanship is part of the ego, what you show is not the problem. You show, you

exhibit. Then the ego is there, the boat is not empty -- and a man of Tao is an empty boat.

He is gentle, not aware; he is innocent, not knowing; he is wise, that's why he can move

as a fool, not worried. Whatsoever he does makes no difference, his wisdom is intact, he

can afford to be foolish. You cannot.

You are always afraid that somebody may think you a fool. You are afraid that if others

think you to be a fool, you will start suspecting it. If so many people think you a fool

your self-confidence will be lost. And if everybody goes on repeating that you are a fool,

sooner or later you will come to believe it.

Only a wise man cannot be deceived, he can appear as a fool.

I have heard about one wise man who was known as The Madman. Nobody knew

anything else about him, his name or anything, he was just known as The Madman. He

was a Jew, and Jews have created a few really wise men, they have something of the

inner source. That is why Jesus could be born amongst them.

This madman behaved in such a foolish way that the whole community became disturbed

because nobody knew what he was going to do next. On the religious days, Yom Kippur

or other festivals, the whole community was afraid, because it could not be predicted

what this rabbi would do, how he would appear there, how he would behave. His prayers

were also mad.

Once he called the court, the Jewish court, all the ten judges of the court. The court came,

because the rabbi called, and he said, "I have a case against God, so decide how to punish

this fellow God. I will present all the arguments to prove that God is unjust and a

criminal."

The judges became very much afraid but they had to listen because he was the rabbi, the

head of the temple. And he made out his case like a lawyer in court.

He said, "God, you created the world, and now you send messengers telling us how to

renounce it. What foolishness! You gave us desires and now all your teachers keep

coming and saying: Be desireless. So what do you think you are doing? And if we have

committed any sins it is really YOU who are the culprit, because why did you create

desire?"

What should the court decide? He was right, but the court decided that this man had gone

completely mad and should be expelled from the temple.

But this man is really telling the truth. He loves God so much that it is an I/thou

relationship, so intimate. He asks, "What are you doing? Enough, now stop, no more

fooling." He must have loved the divine so much that he could behave in that way.

And it is said that God immediately stopped when he called. He had to listen to this man.

And the angels asked, "Suddenly you stopped, what happened?"

He said, "That madman is praying. I have to listen, because whatsoever he says is true,

and he loves me so much that there is no need for formality...." In love, in hate,

everything is permitted, everything is allowed.

This madman was passing and a woman came to him. She asked, "I have been longing

and longing for a child for forty years now. And if within three or four years a child does

not come, then it will not be possible. So help me."

The madman said, "I can help, because my mother had the same trouble. She waited and

waited for forty years and no child came. Then she went to Baal Shem, a mystic; she told

him, and he intervened. My mother gave him a beautiful cap. Baal Shem put the cap on

his head, looked up and said to God, 'What are you doing? This is unjust. There is

nothing wrong in the demand of this woman, so give her a child.' And after nine months,

I was born."

So the woman said, beaming and happy, "I will go home and I will bring you a more

beautiful cap than you have ever seen. Then will the child be born to me?"

Said the madman, "You have missed the point. My mother never knew the story. Your

cap won't do, you have missed. You cannot imitate religion, you cannot imitate prayer.

Once you imitate you have missed." So whenever people came to this madman, he would

say, "Don't imitate, throw away all the scriptures."

When this madman died he had all the books that had been written about him burned.

And the last thing he did was to say to his disciples, "Go around the house and search,

and tell me that nothing is left, so that I can die at ease. Not even a single letter written by

me should be left; otherwise after I die people will start following, and when you follow,

you miss." So everything was gathered and burned. Then he said, "Now I can die easily, I

am not leaving any traces behind."

This type of wise man is not afraid. How can a wise man be afraid of anybody? He can to

all appearances be a fool, he need not exhibit his wisdom.

Have you observed yourself? You are always trying to exhibit your wisdom, always in

search of a victim to whom you can show your knowledge, just searching, hunting for

somebody weaker than you -- then you will jump in and you will show your wisdom.

A wise man need not be an exhibitionist. Whatsoever is, is. He is not aware of it, he is not

in any hurry to show it. If you want to find it, you will have to make efforts. If you have

to know whether he is gentle or not, that is going to be your discovery.

He does not struggle to make money,

And he does not make a virtue out of poverty.

Remember this. It is very easy to make money and it is also very easy to make a virtue of

poverty. But these two types are not different. A man keeps on making money, and then

suddenly he gets frustrated. He has achieved, and nothing is gained -- so he renounces.

Then poverty becomes the virtue, then he lives the life of a poor man and then he says:

This is the only real life, this is religious life. This man is the same, nothing has changed.

The pendulum moved to the left but now has gone to the other extreme.

He does not struggle to make money....

This you will understand; the other part is more difficult.

...He does not make a virtue out of poverty.

He is neither poor nor rich. He is not making any effort to make money, he is not making

any effort to be poor -- whatever happens he allows it to happen. If a palace happens, he

will be in the palace; if the palace disappears, he will not look for it. Whatever is

happening, he will be with it, his bliss cannot be disturbed. He is not struggling for

money, he is not struggling for poverty.

He goes his way without relying on others....

This you can understand easily.

He goes his way without relying on others,

And does not pride himself on walking alone.

You depend on others, your wife, your children, your father, mother, friends, society;

then suddenly you drop everything and escape to the Himalayas. Then you start priding

yourself: I live alone, I don't need anybody, I am free of that world.

Even then you are still not alone because your aloneness still depends on the world. How

could you be alone if there was not a world to leave? How could you be alone if there

was not a society to renounce? How could you be alone if there was not wife, children,

family to leave behind? Your aloneness depends on them. How could you be poor if there

was no money to be left? Your poverty depends on your riches.

No, a perfect man, a man who is really a sage, the man of Tao, goes his way without

relying on others. If you rely on others you will suffer, if you rely on others, you will

always be in bondage, you will become dependent and weak. But that doesn't mean that

you should pride yourself that you walk alone. Walk alone, but don't take pride in it.

Then you can move in the world without being a part of it. Then you can be a husband

without being a husband. Then you can possess without being possessed by your

possessions. Then the world is there outside, but not within. Then you are there, but not

corrupted by it.

This is true loneliness -- moving in the world without being touched by it. But if you are

proud, you have missed. If you think, "I have become somebody," the boat is not empty,

and again you have fallen victim of the ego.

The man of tao remains unknown.

Perfect virtue produces nothing.

No self is true self. And the greatest man is nobody.

Listen.... The man of Tao remains unknown. Not that nobody will know him, but it is up

to you to discover him. He is not making any effort to be known. Effort to be known

comes from the ego, because ego cannot exist when you are unknown, it exists only when

you are known. It exists, feeds, when people look at you, when they pay attention to you,

when you are somebody important, significant.

But how can you be significant if nobody knows you? When the whole world knows you,

then you are significant. That is why people are after fame so much, and if fame cannot

be achieved then they will settle for being notorious -- but not for being unknown! If

people cannot praise you then you will settle for being condemned, but you cannot bear

that they should be indifferent to you.

I have heard about a politician who once had a great following. Many people appreciated

him -- until he became powerful....

When you are not in power you look very innocent, because when there is no power what

can you do, how can you hide? So your real nature comes to be known only when you get

power.

Look at the Gandhians in India before Independence -- so saintly. And now everything

has gone to the opposite extreme. Now they are the most corrupt. What happened? A

simple law: when they were not in power they were like doves, innocent; when power

came they became like serpents, cunning, corrupted, exploiting.

Your real nature is known only when you have power. When you CAN harm, then it is

known whether you will harm or not.

Lord Acton said: Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. No, that is not

right. Power never corrupts, it only brings corruption out. How can power corrupt? You

were already corrupt but there was no outlet for it. You were already ugly but you were

standing in darkness. Now you are standing in light, so will you say that light makes you

ugly? No, light only reveals.

...This politician was very much appreciated and loved, he had a charismatic personality.

Then he came to power and everybody was against him. He was thrown out, his name

became notorious, he was condemned everywhere, so he had to leave his town because

the people would not allow him to live there, he had done such harm.

So with his wife he was looking for a new residence in a new town. He traveled to many

towns just to look and feel where to stay. And then in one town people started throwing

stones at him. He said, "This will be the right place, we should choose this town."

The wife said, "Are you mad? Have you gone crazy? The people are throwing stones."

The politician said, "At least they are not indifferent."

Indifference hurts you most because the ego cannot exist in indifference. With either for

me or against me the ego can exist, but don't be indifferent to me because then how can I

exist, how can the ego exist? The man of Tao remains unknown. That means that he is

not seeking people to know him. If they want to know, they should seek him.

Perfect virtue produces nothing.

This is one of the basics of Taoist life.

Perfect virtue produces nothing, because when you are perfectly virtuous nothing is

needed. When you are perfectly virtuous there is no desire, there is no motivation. You

are perfect. How can perfection move? Only imperfection moves. Only imperfection

desires to produce something. So a perfect artist never paints a picture, and a perfect

musician throws away his sitar. A perfect archer breaks his bow and throws it away, and

a perfect man like Buddha is absolutely useless. What has Buddha produced -- poetry, a

sculpture, a painting, a society? He seems to be absolutely unproductive, he has done

nothing.

Perfect virtue produces nothing, because it needs nothing. Production

comes out of desire, production comes because you are imperfect. You create something

as a substitute because you feel unfulfilled. When you are absolutely fulfilled, why

should you create, how can you create? Then you yourself have become the glory of

creation, then the inner being itself is so perfect, nothing is needed.

Perfect virtue produces nothing. If the world is virtuous, all utilitarian

goals will be lost. If the world is really virtuous there will be play and no production.

Then the whole thing will just become a game. You enjoy it, but you don't need it. A

perfect sage is absolutely useless.

No self is true self.

When you feel that you are not, for the first time you are, because the self is nothing but a

synonym for the ego. That is why Buddha, Lao Tzu, Chuang Tzu, they all say there is no

self, no ATMAN. Not that there is not -- they say there is no atman, there is no self,

because your ego is so cunning it can hide behind it. You can say, AHAM

BRAHMASMI, I am Brahman...ANA'L HAQ, I am God, and the ego can hide behind it.

Buddha says there is nobody to claim, there is no self within you. Buddha says you are

like the onion: you peel, you go on peeling the layers, and finally nothing remains. Your

mind is like an onion, go on peeling. This is what meditation is -- go on peeling, go on

peeling, and a moment comes when nothing is left. That nothingness is your true self. NO

SELF IS TRUE SELF. When the boat is empty then only for the first time you are in the

boat.

And the greatest man is nobody.

It happened that Buddha renounced the kingdom. Then he went searching from one forest

to another, from one ashram to another, from one master to another, walking. He had

never walked before without shoes but now he was just a beggar. He was passing along

the bank of a river, walking on the sand, and his footprints were left.

While resting in the shade of a tree an astrologer saw him. The astrologer was returning

from Kashi, from the seat of learning. He had become proficient in astrology, had

become perfect, and now that he had become a great doctor of astrology he was coming

back to his home town to practice. He looked at the footprint on the wet sand and he

became disturbed: These footprints could not belong to an ordinary man walking on the

sand without shoes during such a hot summer, at noontime! These feet belong to a great

emperor, a CHAKRAVARTIN. A chakravartin is the emperor who rules the whole

world. All the symbols were there showing that this man was a chakravartin, an emperor

of the whole world of the six continents. And why should a chakravartin walk barefoot on

the sand on such a hot summer afternoon? It was impossible!

The astrologer was carrying his most valuable books. He thought, "If this is possible I

should throw these books in the river and forget astrology forever, because this is absurd.

It is very, very difficult to find a man who has the feet of a chakravartin. Once in millions

of years a man becomes a chakravartin, and what is this chakravartin doing here?"

So he followed the footprints to their source and he looked at Buddha who was sitting

resting under a tree with closed eyes, and he became more disturbed. This astrologer

became absolutely disturbed because the face was also the face of a chakravartin. But the

man looked like a beggar, with his begging bowl just there by his side, with torn clothes.

But the face looked like that of a chakravartin, so what should he do?

He said, "I am very disturbed, put me at ease. There is only one question I have to ask. I

have seen and studied your footprints. They should belong to a chakravartin, to a great

emperor who rules over all the world, the whole earth is his kingdom -- and you are a

beggar. So what should I do? Should I throw away all my astrology books? My twelve

years of effort in Kashi have been wasted and those people there are fools. I have wasted

the most important part of my life, so put me at ease. Tell me, what should I do?"

Buddha said, "You need not worry. This will not happen again. You take your books, go

to the town, start your practice and don't bother about me. I was born to be a

chakravartin. These footprints carry my past."

All footprints carry your past -- the lines on your hand, your palm, carry your past. That

is why astrology, palmistry, is always true about the past, never so true about the future,

and absolutely untrue about a buddha, because one who throws off his whole past moves

into the unknown -- you cannot predict his future.

Buddha said, "You will not come to such a troublesome man again. Don't you worry, this

will not happen again, take it as an exception."

But the astrologer said, "A few more questions. I would like to know who you are: am I

really seeing a dream? A chakravartin sitting like a beggar? Who are you? Are you an

emperor in disguise?"

Buddha said, "No."

Then the astrologer asked, "But your face looks so beautiful, so calm, so filled with inner

silence. Who are you? Are you an angel from paradise?"

Buddha said, "No."

The astrologer asked one more question, saying, "It seems impolite to ask, but you have

created the desire and the urge. Are you a human being? If you are not an emperor, a

chakravartin, if you are not a DEVA from paradise, are you a human being?"

And Buddha said, "No, I am nobody. I don't belong to any form, to any name."

The astrologer said, "You have disturbed me even more now. What do you mean?"

This is what Buddha meant:

And the greatest man is nobody.

You can be somebody, but you cannot be the greatest. There is always someone greater

somewhere in the world. And who is somebody? You are the measure. You say that this

man is great -- but who is the measure? You.

The spoon is the measure of the ocean. You say, "This man is great." You say, and many

like you say, "This man is great" -- and he becomes great because of you!

No. In this world, whoever is somebody cannot be the greatest, because the ocean cannot

be measured by spoons. And you are all teaspoons measuring the ocean. No, it is not

possible.

So the really greatest will be nobody amongst you. What does it mean when Chuang Tzu

says, "The greatest will be nobody"? It means: it will be immeasurable. You cannot

measure, you cannot label, you cannot categorize, you cannot say, "Who is this?" He

simply escapes measurement. He simply goes beyond and beyond and beyond and the

teaspoon falls to the ground.

Enough for today.

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