Nirvana

Upanishad
Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh
Chapter 1 : The Journey Begins

The Invocation
Om
May my speech abide in my mind,
and may my mind abide in my speech.
Oh, self-illumined soul,
be manifest for me.
Oh, speech and mind!
Both of you are the foundations of my knowledge;
hence, do not destroy my knowledge.
In practicing this knowledge
do I spend all my nights and days.

However much a drop may desire to merge with the ocean,

unless it first remembers the ocean, that search is not going to
succeed. If the flame of a lamp thinks that it can find the sun without
first recognizing the sun, the idea is absurd. And if the soul has
begun the search for the divine, it will not reach through its own
effort alone.
It is not enough to trust only in your own effort; it is necessary to
first begin by remembering the divine. But to remember that which
you know nothing about, which is unknown to you - that is the
difficulty. It is very difficult, almost impossible, to remember that
which you know nothing about. But if you insist that you will
remember only after knowing, that too will create a problem
because once you know, then there is no longer a need to
remember. For those who know, there is no need even to say it
with words; for those who recognize, prayer is pointless. How can
those who do not know, pray? How can they invoke the divine, how
can they remember it? How can they fold their hands in prayer or
bow down to it?
 The drop knows nothing of the ocean. But the drop also cannot
be fulfilled until it becomes one with the ocean. How can a tiny lamp
burning in the dark night know that ultimately, without the energy of
the sun, it will not be able to produce light? Howsoever far away
the sun may be from the lamp, the light of the lamp is nothing but
the light of the sun. A small stream that flows near your house, in
your village, does not know it is connected with the faraway ocean.
If the oceans dry up, the stream will immediately dry up and die.
Yet when you see the stream you also do not remember that it is
connected with the ocean.
Man too is in a similar situation: he too is a small stream of
consciousness. If consciousness has been able to manifest itself in
him, it is only because there is a vast ocean of consciousness
surrounding him, connected with him -whether he is aware of it or
not is a different matter.
With this sutra, the sage of this Upanishad is embarking on a
journey. This sutra is very beautiful and absurd at the same time,
because the sage is praying to the one he is seeking. He is bowing
down at the feet of the one whom he does not yet know. How is
this possible? Try to understand this, because those who want to
enter the world of spiritual seeking will have to make this impossible
thing possible.
One thing is certain: the drop has no awareness of the ocean.
But the second thing is equally certain: the drop longs to become
the ocean.
Whatever you are, you will have to bow down to that which you
wish to become. Whatever you are, you will have to pray to that
which is your potential to become. It is as if a seed is praying to the
flower that it will one day become.
Such a prayer is not going to be beneficial to existence, but
through it you will derive a great strength within yourself. This
prayer is not said as a favor to existence but as a favor to yourself.
If a drop can pray to the ocean rightly, somewhere deep within its
being, a contact with the ocean already begins to take place. When
a drop invokes the ocean, in some mysterious way it begins to earn
the capacity and worthiness to become one with the ocean. When
a drop prays to the ocean for help in order to reach it, half the
journey is already completed. The trust and sincerity with which a
drop asks the ocean for help breaks the barriers of its tiny, narrow
existence and joins it with the vast.
In a moment of prayer, a person does not remain the same as
he was before; it is as if a closed door opens for him. It is as if a
window that had been closed opens and a new dimension, the
possibility of a new journey, a new sky is glimpsed. Not that you
have reached the sky; but standing within your own house a door
opens and you have begun to see the limitless sky. But you remain
where you are, you have not changed.
It is as if a person stands in the darkness of his own house and
opens a window or a door. The person is the same, the house is
the same, the place is the same - nothing has changed - but now
the person can see the faraway sky.
If the far-distant shore is not first glimpsed, it is difficult to
proceed. If you do not begin to see the destination right from where
you are standing, it is impossible even to begin the journey.
The sage begins this book, Nirvana Upanishad, with an
invocation, a prayer. This is the Upanishad in which nirvana will be
sought - the ultimate truth where the individual dissolves and only
the infinite void remains, where the flame is lost in the limitless,
where all boundaries dissolve in the boundless, where the “I" is lost
and only godliness remains.
This nirvana is beautiful. Buddha stopped using the words God
and soul because he said that all those words had become
contaminated by usage, by passing through so many mouths. But
even he could not drop the word nirvana. Not only that: Buddha
centered the whole search around the reality of nirvana. You may
not be aware of the meaning of the word nirvana: it means the
extinguishing of a lamp. When somebody blows a lamp out, where
does the flame of the lamp go?
In this world, whatsoever is in existence cannot become
nonexistent. Now the scientists also agree that whatsoever is
cannot be destroyed, and whatsoever is not cannot be created. All
that happens is only a transformation of form, a change of form, but
nothing is destroyed or created. You blow out a lamp and the flame
is extinguished, but where does it go? It cannot be destroyed, that
is not possible. Even if you want to, it is not possible. Only that
which was not really there, which only appeared to be there, can
be destroyed; whatsoever is really there cannot be destroyed.
It is very interesting that only that which was not there in the first
place can be destroyed, but that which is there cannot be
destroyed. It will remain; it will remain in one form or other, in one
shape or other, somewhere or other; there is no possibility of its
destruction. Only the flame of a lamp gets extinguished; it does not
die, it only disappears. It does not come to an end. A separation at
one end becomes a meeting somewhere else, at some other end.
The flame emerged from some immensity and it disappears into
the same immensity. It came from the infinite and it has again gone
back into the infinite. The drops of water that rain over your houses,
over your fields and gardens, come from the ocean and again
return to the ocean.
Remember this one eternal principle; the place where a thing is
reabsorbed is also the source it was born out of. The beginning and
end are always one and the same. A thing ends, it disappears and
dissolves only into that from which it was born. In this world, the
door for coming in and going out is the same. Birth and death are
two names for the same door, but the door is one. The flame
disappears into that from which it came. Buddha used to say, “This
disappearance of the flame I call 'nirvana of the lamp.’ Similarly,
when one day the ego of a person is lost in the infinite, I call it
'nirvana of the individual.”’
It is worth noting here that the teachings of the Upanishads are
much older than Buddha. What Buddha has said is the same as
what lies hidden in the Upanishads. Those who penetrate deeply
into it will find that Buddha has given a living commentary on the
Upanishads. How surprising it is that a person who was living the
Upanishads so much in his life appeared to the brahmins of India
to be an enemy. Gautam Buddha, whose life manifested the very
nectar stream of the Upanishads flowing in thousands and
thousands of forms, appeared to be an enemy to the pundits and
scholars who had become guardians of the Upanishads. These
pundits made relentless efforts to eliminate the thoughts of Buddha
from India, though Buddha was saying the same things the
Upanishads had said.
This is how it always happens. It happens like this because when
a sage of the Upanishads says something, he does not say it as a
pundit, as a scholar or as a priest: he has known something directly.
Those who are around now are not able to withstand this fire born
out of knowing. They are able to bear the ashes of the scriptures
but not the fire of knowing. When the fire of knowing is extinguished
and only the ashes remain, it becomes a scripture. What scholars
have are scriptures, not knowing. Of course, what is ash today was
once a burning fire and because it was once a burning fire, we
continue to preserve the ashes. But remember: today it is just ash,
it is no longer a burning fire.
By the time of Buddha, the Upanishads had turned into ashes.
In fact, whenever knowledge falls in the hands of the scholars and
priests - those who do not know but are under the illusion that they
know - it always turns to ashes. If one wants living knowledge to be
killed, there is no better way than to hand it over
to the scholars. Scholars are experts in killing the living fire.
You can become an owner of ashes, but to play with fire is
dangerous. You can worship the ashes, but to encounter fire is
dangerous. As far as ashes are concerned, you can make changes
to them, you can reshape them, manipulate them - but fire
transforms you, destroys you.
The sages of the Upanishads were playing with fire, but by the
time Buddha arrived on the scene, it had already turned to ashes.
When Buddha again began to talk about fire, it was only natural
that to those who were guarding the ashes and calling it fire, he
appeared as their enemy. This is natural, because if the fire is lit
again the guardians of the ashes will be in great difficulty. Jesus
said the same things that the Jewish prophets had said before him,
but it was none other than the Jewish priests and scholars who
crucified him.
You will be surprised to know that the people who have been
opposed to religion until now are not the people who are irreligious.
The atheists of India did not oppose Buddha; he was opposed by
the so-called theists of India. It is difficult to understand that truth is
always one. Only its expressions are new; the life- core of truth is
always the same.
In this Nirvana Upanishad - which has nothing to do with Buddha
- there is the essence of all that Buddha ever said.
A friend of mine has just returned from China. I was here, giving
some talks on Lao Tzu. After coming here this friend said to me,
“You are giving talks on Lao Tzu, and when I asked a scholar in
China what he thought of Lao Tzu, he said, ‘Our Lao Tzu has been
corrupted by your Upanishads.”’ A very meaningful statement.
The truth is that when he said that Lao Tzu was corrupted, he
implied that the rest of us are not corrupted. Whenever anybody,
anywhere in this world, is corrupted in the sense that Lao Tzu was,
it is always the Upanishads that were behind it. It is the same way
that Buddha was corrupted, Mahavira was corrupted, Socrates was
corrupted, Jesus was corrupted. Whenever anybody, anywhere,
has been corrupted like this, it has always been because of the
Upanishads. I told my friend, “If you think Lao Tzu was the only
man who was corrupted, you are wrong. During our known history
of five thousand years, whenever anyone has been corrupted, the
Upanishads have been the cause of it."
In fact, whatsoever is of eternal value has been so well told in
the Upanishads that I sometimes wonder if it is at all possible to
say anything which is not already there. Can the Upanishads be
refined any further? Can they be improved upon? - I doubt it. It
seems to be very difficult to make any improvement. It is doubtful
that it can be done; there seems to be no way. This proved to be a
cause of great difficulty for India. The Upanishads expressed the
truth in such pure terms that it was difficult to bring any refinement
to it. This is why, after the Upanishads, any further development of
the Indian intellect became very difficult. Development needs that
there be space for it. The Upanishads managed to say such
ultimate things that there remained nothing else to be said. All
ultimate statements of truth are there in the Upanishads.
Nirvana Upanishad is a wonderful treatise. We now begin our
journey into it, and this journey will be twofold.
On the one hand, I will go on explaining the meaning of the
Upanishad to you; on the other, I will go on making you do it.
Because nothing is ever understood by explanations; it is only by
experience that one understands. When you do it, you will
understand it. All that is significant in life needs to be tasted, not
explained. It requires a taste, an experience, not a commentary. It
is not enough to explain what fire is, the fire will have to be kindled.
One will have to pass through that fire, one will have to be burned
and extinguished in that fire - only then can you have the realization
of what nirvana is. And it is not difficult.
It is difficult to build the ego, but it is not difficult to destroy it
because, in reality, ego does not exist. It can be easily dropped. In
fact, it takes arduous and constant lifelong effort to keep it together!
It has to be built using props and supports from every side, but to
destroy it is not in the least bit difficult. During these seven days, if
your ego disappears even for a moment, you will have a glimpse of
what nirvana is.
So we will understand nirvana and through that understanding
actualize it. Hence, whatsoever I say, do not make it part of your
information; try to make it your realization. Whatsoever I say, try to
transform it into your experience - only then... In five thousand
years, there have been numerous commentaries on the
Upanishads, but nothing has come of it. Words, words, and more
words get piled up, and in the end you have many words but no
realization. The day you realize, you suddenly find that everything
within has become wordless and silent. And this is what the prayer
of the sage of this Upanishad is.
The sage has called this “a prayer for peace." If you are praying
to the divine, it should be called something else; what is the sense
of a prayer to the divine for peace? Divineness is peacefulness. But
this prayer has been called a prayer for peace knowingly,
purposely. It has been called this because although you pray to the
divine, it is for your own sake that you pray. You are not peaceful,
and the journey is not possible in that condition. Wherever you
travel in your restlessness, it is bound to be in the opposite direction
to the divine. The meaning of restlessness is; moving with one’s
back to the divine.
Actually, the more restless a mind is, the farther away from the
divine it is. Restlessness itself is the distance, the distance is in the
same proportion to the restlessness. If you are totally at peace,
then there is no distance. Then it is not right even to say that you
are with the divine because to be with the divine is still a distance.
No, then you are in the divine. But perhaps even this is not right,
because to be in the divine is still a distance. The only right thing to
say then is that you are the divine. Then either you are there or the
divine is there; then there are not two. As long as two exist, the
distance goes on existing on some level or other. This is why the
sage begins with a prayer for peace.
The words of this prayer for peace are worth understanding, so
that they can be put into practice.
The sage says;
Om.

Om is a symbol for all that cannot be said. There is no meaning

to the word Om. it is without a meaning. And if anybody tries to give
it some meaning, tell that person not to do such a stupid thing! Om
has no meaning whatsoever, it is only a sound. Remember:
wherever meaning enters, limit enters. Meaning means limit.
Wherever there is a meaning, its opposite also exists. All words
have their opposites, but will you be able to find a word that the
opposite of Om? If there is the word life, there is death', if there is
the word light, there is darkness also; if there is the word duality,
there is non-duality, if there is the word worldly, there is other-
worldly also. But have you heard of a word that is the opposite of
Om? If there is meaning, the opposite meaning is bound to evolve.
Om simply has no meaning, and that is its greatness and
significance. It will look absurd, because your mind likes to give as
many elaborate meanings to things as possible. No, Om has no
meaning, it is just a sound - very meaningful, but having no
meaning at all; very significant, but without any meaning.
Om is only a symbol for that which cannot be said. We can
describe everything; only existence cannot be described.
Whenever we attempt to describe God, difficulty begins. Had
theists never mentioned God, there would be no atheists in the
world.
Are you aware that an atheist cannot exist before there is a
theist? If there were no theists in the world, there would be no
atheists. An atheist is only a reaction, an opposition to the theist.
So if atheists are to be eliminated from the world, theists will have
to bring about some change in themselves; otherwise, it is not
possible.
A true theist never claims to be a theist. Mahavira is such a theist
- he does not claim to be one. An absolute theist will not even say
that God exists, because saying this gives an opportunity for
someone to say that God does not exist. Then who is responsible
for such a situation? The moment we say that a certain thing exists
we are inviting the ‘‘no" about its existence. As far as a real theist
is concerned, if somebody says there is no God, he will agree, he
will not create any debate.
I have heard that in the last days of Mulla Nasruddin's life,
knowing him to be an old and experienced person, the people of
his village appointed him as judge. On the very first day Nasruddin
questioned a person accused of committing some crime. Whatever
replies the person gave, Nasruddin listened calmly. In the end, he
said very ecstatically, "Right, perfectly right!”
The court clerk was perplexed, the advocates became anxious
because the other party in the case had not been heard yet. But he
was the judge, so it wouldn’t have been right to interfere with him.
 Then Nasruddin asked the opposing party to speak. Again he
listened quietly to what the other party had to say. When the
statement was over Nasruddin again said, "Right, perfectly right!”
On hearing this, the advocates became even more perplexed.
The court clerk whispered in Nasruddin's ear, “Do you know, your
honor, what you are up to? If both sides are right, then who is
wrong?"
Nasruddin replied, “Right, perfectly right! You are also right!”
Then he got up from his chair and said, “This court business is
of no use to me, because I will not say anything that can be
opposed. The court is not the place for me.”
The true theist will not even say that the atheist is wrong. He will
not say "There is a God, and I am right,” because saying this is an
open invitation for the opposite statement. And the more
vehemently people try to prove the existence of God, with equal
force and emphasis, others try to disprove it.
Om has no meaning to it. There is no attempt to say anything
through it. Om does not even mean God; it is only a symbol for that
which cannot be said. Whatsoever can be said has to be divided
into parts, but there is something in existence that is indivisible.
This indivisible existence alone is. To indicate that, the word Om is
used. With this begins the prayer of the sage. It is not addressed to
any God, it is addressed to this indivisible existence.
Remember one thing; when you pray to God you have to make
great distinctions. One friend has written a very interesting letter to
me. He writes, “I salute all that is godly in you.” He must have
thought that if he salutes the whole person, he might salute some
ungodly part of me.
But when the sage prays to Om, even a stone lying in front of
him is a part of Om; even the stars in the sky are part of Om. Om
is all-inclusive, it contains all within it. So when the prayer is
addressed to Om, there is no choosing in it. The prayer is
addressed to the whole existence, to all that is.
If an invocation for peace also chooses, it is nothing but an
invocation for turmoil. But when we choose, we go much further:
we pray to a particular god- a Hindu god or a Mohammedan god.
So I thought that the person who wrote me this letter has quite a
big heart: he did not write that he saluted only the Hindu godly
qualities or the Mohammedan godly qualities that he thinks are in
me. His salutation was quite big-hearted!
Even about godly qualities you choose, and in doing so, slowly,
slowly what remains in your hands is nothing but your own "I."
I have heard...
A man's dog died. The man loved his dog very much. Love
between human beings has become a very rare thing, so other
ways to show love have to be found. The man was rich, and he
thought this dog should be given the same respectful send-off as a
human being. What the man did not remember was the fact that
these days even a human being is not getting as much respect as
a dog. But one does not remember such things; lovers are blind
people.
The man went to the big Catholic church in the village and told
the priest that he wanted his dog buried with full respect, like that
given to humans.
The priest said, “Have you gone mad? Respect a dog as a
human being? I am not a priest for dogs. Get out of here! But I have
some advice for you: go to the Protestant church just a short
distance away from here; perhaps the priest there will agree to your
proposal. Human beings seldom visit that church anyway. And
furthermore he is a Protestant; he may agree to this whole idea.”
The man was desperate, so he went to the Protestant church.
The minister protested and said, "What do you mean? Have you
come to insult us? Such respect for a dog? It is not possible!
However, there is a mosque nearby; you go there. The maulvi of
that mosque is Mulla Nasruddin. He is a little eccentric and
unpredictable; he may do your work."
The man went to the mosque. Mulla Nasruddin listened to
everything quietly and then shouted angrily, “What? What do you
think we are here? Even to human beings we give respect
selectively, and you have brought the case of a dog? Just get out
of here!"
The man thought that perhaps Nasruddin might advise him to go
to some temple or other, but Nasruddin did not advise anything, so
the man asked. Mulla said, "I have no advice for you."
The man said, “I may as well tell you that I had planned to donate
fifty thousand dollars to the temple of the priest who buried my dog
according to human rites."
Nasruddin said, "Wait a minute. Was the dog a Muslim? In that
case I might consider the matter.” But the man said that the dog
was not a Muslim and began to leave. Nasruddin once again
asked, "Wait a moment. Was your dog religious?"
The man replied, “I had no occasion to ask the dog that
question." Nasruddin said, “Just one moment more, please! This is
the last chance we have. Was the dog really a dog? In that case, I
am ready."
Om is the indivisible existence. So the sage prays:

Om.
May my speech abide in my mind, and may my mind abide in my
speech.

Ninety-nine percent of our sickness and distress, our

restlessness - our words, our thoughts, our tensions - are all
connected to our speech.
Coolidge was one of the presidents of America. He used to
speak so little that it was said about him that he was the least
criticized of all the politicians in the world. There was no way to
criticize him because he spoke so little. There was just no way to
contradict him.
When he became the president, in his first press conference a
journalist asked him whether he would like to say something about
his future plans. He said, “No." The journalist then asked him about
his views about a certain matter. Coolidge said, "I have no views."
The journalist made one more attempt by asking, “What political
ideology has influenced you most?” The President said, “No
comment."
He was asked many things, but he gave no other reply than “No.”
At the end, when all the journalists began to leave, he said, “Wait.
Do not put this on record. Whatsoever I have said should not be
printed as news” - he had said nothing in the first place - “this is all
off-the-record. Do not report it as news. This was all unofficial, like
a chat with friends"
But he had not said anything!
When Coolidge was dying, someone asked, "Why did you speak
so little in your life?"
Coolidge replied, “Whenever I spoke I got into trouble. Then I
realized that there are no difficulties if one does not speak"
Coolidge was invited to a big party. The richest and the most
beautiful woman of the town was sitting next to him. She said,
"President Coolidge, I have made a bet that during the one hour
you are at the party I would somehow make you speak at least
three words."
Coolidge said, "You lose." This was only two words. Thereafter,
for the whole hour, he did not utter a word; he just managed by
making gestures with his hands.

The sage says: May my speech abide in my mind...

This is the first thing he says. Have you ever thought about why
you say so many things that you never intended to? This is very
strange - saying things you never wanted to. Later on you yourself
say that you never wanted to say this, that it has happened in spite
of you. Are the words yours? Is this your own voice speaking or is
something else going on?
Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, it is others who make you
speak. You do not speak on your own. A wife knows very well what
answer her husband will give to what question. A husband also
knows what response he will get from his wife. Everything goes on
automatically, like a machine. Your mind, which is your instrument
for thought and reflection, does not have any relationship to your
speech; your speech has become mechanical. You go on talking
like machines.
Hardly one word of what you speak is in tune with your mind.
Many times it even happens that your mind is thinking one thing
and your speech is just contrary to it. You may be telling someone
that you have great love for him, but inside your mind you may be
thinking of picking the same man’s pocket, or cutting his throat. I
said “picking his pocket" just so you don't imagine that I am
exaggerating.
Hatred and anger are creeping in your mind, but at the same
time you go on talking about love. You go on swearing by your
friendship but in that moment there is only enmity in you. Such a
person will never be able to know his own self. Such a person is
not really deceiving others, only himself.
Mulla Nasruddin was walking along a road. It was a very cold
night and it was snowing. He was not wearing enough clothing, so
he collapsed from the cold. He could not get up and began to
freeze; he felt he was going to die. Once, he had asked his wife
about the symptoms when a person dies. She said that the hands
and feet of a person become cold at the time of death. Mulla
examined his hands and feet, which were cold, so he naturally
thought he must be dying. By the time four passers-by found him,
he had already decided that he was dead. They also thought
among themselves that the man was dead, so they lifted him on
their shoulders to take him to some nearby cemetery.
But those people were strangers, and they did not know the road
to the town. They went and stood at a crossroads as the night grew
colder and colder. They were wondering which road to take to find
the nearest town or village so that the dead man could be
cremated, but they could not figure out which way to go.
Mulla Nasruddin was also thinking: he knew the road to the town,
but he was wondering whether it was proper for a dead man to
speak. That question he had not clarified with his wife. Then he
wondered if it would be proper not to speak, because if he did not
speak these four people might also freeze to death. So he spoke:
"Brothers, if you do not mind, and if you do not think it is impolite
for a dead man to speak, I can show you the road. When I was
alive, this road going to the left led to my town."
Those people said, "What type of a man are you? You are alive
and speaking! Why were you lying there like a dead person?"
Mulla said, "According to my wife’s descriptions, I felt I must be
dead. But because I was aware of everything that was going on
around me, I knew I must be alive.”
Those four men asked, "If you knew you were alive, why didn't
you stop us from thinking you were dead? Why didn’t you stand up
and declare that you are alive?”
Mulla replied, “There is a reason for it. I am such a liar that in the
end I am not able to trust my own words. I need two witnesses to
prove to me that something I say is true. If I tell myself that I am
alive, I need two witnesses confirming it before I can believe it
myself. I am such a liar that I can’t ever be sure if what I am saying
is a truth or a lie.”
Slowly, what you go on talking about becomes your personality.
Then you yourself cannot be sure whether what you are saying is
the truth or a lie.
The sage says: May my speech abide in my mind.. “May my
speech be in accordance with my mind; may there be nothing in
my speech which is not in my mind; may my mind and my speech
be one. May my speech truly reflect me. Whatsoever I may be,
good or bad, may that be manifest in my speech. May my face and
my image be my own, not anybody else's. May I be authentic. May
my words be true reflections of my mind.”
It is a difficult matter. Your lifelong effort is to hide yourself, not
to expose yourself. And when you speak, you do not necessarily
speak to reveal something. Often you speak only to hide something
because there are certain things which are more revealed by
keeping quiet. For example, if you are sitting with somebody and
feeling angry with that person, this anger will be revealed if you go
on sitting quietly. If you start talking about the weather, you both
get involved in the conversation and your anger slips under the
surface. If you sit quietly, your reality cannot be hidden for long.
While you are talking you can deceive; the conversation becomes
a screen. Once you become expert in talking, once you become
expert in deceiving others, ultimately you succeed in deceiving
yourself.

So the sage says: May my speech abide in my mind...

“Whatsoever I am, only that should be in my speech, nothing

else.” As difficult as this discipline is, still the sage prays. He knows
that it is a difficult discipline, that one can only succeed if existence
favors. One can only succeed if all the forces are favorable;
otherwise, it is very difficult.
Then the next thing the sage says is: ...and may my mind abide
in my speech. This is even more difficult. The meaning of "mind
abiding in speech” is that the mind is there only when you speak;
when you do not speak the mind should not be there. And this is
the right thing, too. Only when you are walking do you have feet.
You may say, "No, my feet are there even when I am not walking.”
But only in name can you call them feet: a foot is a foot when it
walks. An eye is an eye when it sees, an ear is an ear when it hears.
So when we use the term “a blind eye,” it is incorrect, because “a
blind eye” means nothing. A "blind eye” in fact means "no eye.” Eye
means “that which sees”; blind means “no eye.” However, when
your eyes are closed, when you are not using them, then too you
are blind. An eye is an eye when it is in use, when it is functional.
All these names are functional: they are associated with their uses
or actions.
When a fan is not in action we still call it a fan, but that is wrong.
Only when it is blowing air is it a fan, otherwise not. Then it is only
a potential fan, a fan in its seed form. And to call it a fan only means
that it can be used to blow air if one wants, no more than that. If
you pick up a piece of cardboard and start fanning yourself with it,
it has become a fan. If you start fanning yourself with a book, the
book becomes a fan. If I hit your head by throwing a book at you,
the book becomes a weapon. All names of things are functional. If
we name things in this manner, that is, only when they are in actual
use, it will create confusion, so we have given them fixed names.
Only when speech is needed should mind be there, otherwise
not. But we are such that even while sitting on a chair we go on
moving our feet. Let someone ask what you are doing with your
feet and your feet will stop moving. What were you really doing?
Trying to walk while sitting? Or have your feet gone mad? In the
same way, we go on chattering too - in just the same way. When
no speech is needed on the outside, it continues inside. When you
are not speaking aloud, you speak within. When you do not speak
to others, you go on talking to yourself.
The sage prays: ...may my mind abide in my speech. This is a
little more difficult than the first thing. This means that only when I
talk should the mind be there; in the absence of any talking the
mind should not be there. Just as when I am sitting the feet should
not walk, when I am sleeping the body should not stand up;
similarly, when I am not speaking the mind should become silent
and empty.
You have to begin with the first. If you have not attained the first,
you cannot attain the second. First, what you say should have its
roots in your mind. Only that speech should remain which is in
harmony with your mind, with your nature; let the rest of it drop. Let
all lies disappear.
Very little speaking will remain. If your speaking is rooted in your
mind, ninety percent of speech will vanish. Ninety percent of
speech is unnecessary, So much trouble is born out of this
unnecessary speaking, and life goes on becoming more
complicated - you cannot imagine how complicated. Only ten
percent of your speaking will remain; it will become telegraphic.
What a man writes in a long letter, he conveys within eight or ten
words in a telegram. In fact, he conveys much more in the telegram
than in the long letter. That is why a telegram is more effective than
a letter. Actually, a long letter is only written by a person who does
not know how to write a letter; a long talk is only given by a person
who does not know how to talk.
Someone asked Abraham Lincoln how much he had to prepare
when he had to give a lecture for one hour. Lincoln replied, “I do
not have to prepare at all. When I have a full hour to speak, what
is the need to think about it beforehand?”
Then he was asked how much he had to prepare if he had to
speak for only ten minutes. Lincoln replied, “A lot. And if I had to
speak for only two minutes, I would not be able to sleep the whole
night because all the unnecessary rubbish has to be removed and
only the diamond kept.”
When speech is in harmony with the mind, it becomes
telegraphic and concise. These Upanishads were written by such
people, and that is why they could be spoken so briefly,
telegraphically. Everything becomes brief, only the essence
remains; anything unnecessary is removed. If you intend to
accomplish the second thing, this has to be accomplished first; you
will have to cut out all unnecessary speech. When only necessary
speech remains, the mind also need not remain unnecessarily.
When there is a need, you will speak.
Then why do you think so much? You think because you are
never sure if there is any harmony between your speech and your
mind. Hence, you prepare what to say and what not to say in
advance. You think out every detail. Man thinks over even small,
trivial matters. A man going to the office to get his leave approved
by his employer rehearses his request ten times, how and what he
will say. What the employer will ask and what he will reply,
everything has to be thought out properly. You do not have even
this little trust in yourself, that you would be able to answer
spontaneously. After all, it is the same mind rehearsing which
thinks it won't be able to reply spontaneously. What is the
difference?
I have heard...
There were rehearsals going on for a drama. The director was
very anxious. During the rehearsals sometimes the hero was
absent, sometimes the heroine was absent, and sometimes the
musician; each time someone or the other was absent. The only
person who was regular was the person who raised and lowered
the curtain. At the time of the final rehearsal the director said, “I
must congratulate the curtain raiser, who never missed a
rehearsal."
The curtain raiser immediately remarked, “Forgive me, but I am
helpless. Before you finish what you are saying, you should know
that on our first public performance tonight, I will not be able to
come. I have come for this final rehearsal mainly to let you know
this, so that I am not blamed later on."
Remember that at the time of the actual performance, the person
you trusted so much during rehearsals will not turn up. Rehearsals
are not necessary if the characters are reliable.
If I have something to say, what is the need to prepare
beforehand? If you are the one to prepare and you are the one to
speak, when the time comes you will speak. But you have to
prepare only because you do not trust yourself. There is no
coordination between mind and speech. You may think of saying
one thing and you may say something quite different. That is why
you have to prepare and rehearse the exact words with which to
speak. There is always the fear that the whole thing may be spoiled
if your real mind, your true mind, appears in the middle of your
speech.
The sage says: “May my speech be cut down to the bare
essential, leaving only that which is in harmony with my mind, true
and authentic. And then, oh Almighty, may my mind also abide in
my speech. May I use my mind only when speech is required. May
I pick up the brush only when it is required to paint, and may I touch
the strings of the veena only when I want to sing a song - may I use
the mind only when something needs expression."
Mind is just a medium for expression, so when you are not
speaking, when you are not expressing anything, mind is not
needed at all. But mind has become your habit. You are sitting or
sleeping and the mind goes on working; you are carrying a mad
mind within you.
 Somebody sent Mahatma Gandhi a statue of three monkeys
from Japan. In his whole life, Gandhi could not understand its
meaning; what he understood was wrong. He asked the person
who had sent the statue to explain the meaning, but that person
also did not know.
You may have seen a picture of the statue of these three
monkeys. One monkey is sitting with his hands on his eyes, the
other is sitting with his hands on his ears, and the third one is sitting
with his hands on his mouth. Gandhi gave what meaning he could:
he explained that the monkey that has his hands on his ears is
telling you not to hear evil talk, the monkey that has his hands on
his eyes is saying not to see any evil things, and the monkey that
has his hands on his mouth is saying not to speak any evil words.
There cannot be an explanation less correct than that. One who
puts his hands over his eyes in order not to see something evil
would have already seen the evil; otherwise how would he know,
"Something evil is happening here, and let me not see it” By the
time you close your eyes you have already seen it. And with evil
things, once they have been seen, then even though you close your
eyes the scene will continue to be seen within. That monkey will be
in great trouble.
The same is true about not hearing any evil talk - you will know
it to be evil only when you have heard it. Then, when you close your
ears, that evil talk cannot slip out; it will resound within you. No, this
is not the meaning.
The meaning is: do not see unless some real need to see arises
from within; do not hear unless some real need to hear arises from
within; do not speak unless speaking becomes a must from within.
The whole meaning is related to your inner world, not the outer. But
people like Gandhi understand things only from the outside. If you
have to depend on the outside to hear or not to hear the evil thing,
it depends on the other. Then you do not know when the other may
speak, in what sudden moment. It is possible that someone may
start with playing music, and then suddenly switch to evil talk. What
can be done? Often it is more convenient to start with music if one
wants to speak evil: by the time you close your ears the evil talk will
have been heard by you. And it is a sign of great weakness to be
so afraid of hearing evil talk. If you become evil just by hearing evil
things, then without hearing also you are certainly evil. You cannot
save yourself like this.
But do not think that this statement is for monkeys. In fact, the
statue of the monkeys has traditionally been made in Japan
because it is said that the mind of man is a monkey. All those who
understand the mind even a little know that the mind is a monkey.
Darwin understood it much later - that man is born from the
monkey. But the people who understand mind have always known
that the mind of man is nothing but a monkey.
You must have seen monkeys restlessly leaping and jumping:
your mind is even more restless - it leaps and jumps even more all
the time. If a method could be devised to open windows into the
mind so you could look into it, you would be surprised to see what
people are doing. You may see a man sitting in meditation, in a
lotus posture, but within his mind he is making a great many
journeys, taking giant leaps from one tree to another - and this is
happening inside, the monkey mind inside.
The true meaning of this statue of the three monkeys will be
useful to you during these seven days: do not see anything unless
it is a must. And how strangely we behave! - we are walking along
a road and we go on reading the signboard for toothpaste, we go
on reading the advertisement for a brand of cigarettes, we go on
reading the advertisement for soap; as if one has become literate
just to read these things.
An eminent American thinker was passing an intersection where
he saw a well-lit signboard in attractive multicolor. He said, “Oh
God! How much I could have enjoyed the beauty of these colors
had I not been educated. But what a pity that I am educated; it is
sickening!”
Billboards with flashing lights advertising Lux toilet soap or
Panama cigarettes - every single thing is being read, endless
rubbish is being fed into your minds. You are not even this much a
master of yourself - or of your eyes - that you do not allow the
rubbish in. If you see only what you must, the magic of your eyes
will increase. Your way of seeing will change. Your seeing will
acquire power and capacity. If you hear only what you must, you
will be able to really hear.
I have heard an anecdote about Freud...
The psychoanalytic methods of Freud require that the
psychiatrist listen to the patient’s talk for several hours at a stretch,
sitting behind the patient. Freud had become old, and a young
psychiatry student was studying under him. Within three hours one
single patient would tire out the young student. But Freud would
listen to patients from morning till midnight, for ten hours at a
stretch, and still he would be fresh.
Once the young student met Freud on the staircase and asked
him the secret of his still being fresh at his age after such long
sittings, while he himself got exhausted by listening to one patient.
Freud replied, "Who listens? They speak but who listens? If you
listen, you are bound to get worn out.”
The young man was puzzled, “What are you saying, sir? Why do
you make the patients talk so much if you do not listen?”
Freud replied, "That chattering relieves the patient by allowing
him to throw a lot of rubbish out of his mind.”
We have to have professional listeners these days; natural
listeners are no longer available. The wife is not ready to listen, the
son is not ready to listen, neither are the husband or the father
ready to listen. Nobody is ready to listen to nonsense, hence the
professionals. In the entire West - in America, in Europe - the
professionals' only business is to listen to your nonsensical talking
and charge fees for it. Making someone listen to your chatter you
feel relieved; you come back home and think you are undergoing
treatment. After two or three years of chattering, you get tired and
you cool down; this is the only peace that comes, nothing else
happens to you.
But if a person gets an opportunity to throw out his mental
rubbish for two or three years to a sympathetic listener, he definitely
will get relief. You intensely desire a listener and this is why you go
on trying to catch each other. No sooner does someone meet you
than you begin to talk about your problems, as if the other’s
problems are less than yours.
Recently, a seventy-year-old woman from Rajasthan met me.
She said, “In the whole of India there is nobody more unhappy than
I am." Then she looked at me. I was a little surprised at the words
“the whole of India,” so she said, “If you do not believe that, then at
least in the whole of Rajasthan there is nobody who is more
unhappy than I am.”
Everybody thinks the same: there is no one else more unhappy
than he is. That's why this eagerness, this readiness to make
whosoever you meet listen to your problems. All this listening, all
this talking, all this seeing, all of it is just a waste of energy.

So the sage says:

...may my mind abide in my speech.

Oh, self-illumined soul, be manifest for me.

Oh, self-illumined soul, be manifest for me - but only when my

speech has become peaceful, my mind has become silent.
Because if the divine becomes manifest for you before this has
happened, you will not be able to recognize it. Remember:
godliness is manifest for you day in, day out, but you are unable to
recognize it. You will be able to recognize it only when you have
become silent, like a spotless mirror. When your mind becomes
silent and your speech absent, you will suddenly find that godliness
has always been present; only you were not present to see it, to
recognize it, to experience it. The divine is present everywhere,
always.
This is why the sage prays to the divine, "You should become
manifest only when the other things have happened first. If you
become manifest right now, I myself am not present yet, so the
whole thing would be futile.’’ But you are such topsy-turvy people;
compare yourself to this sage.
Yesterday, when friends had gathered to see me off in Mumbai,
one friend took my hands in his and said with great feeling, "We
are wicked, restless and troubled, so why does God not appear to
us? What is the difficulty for God? Granted, we are evil and
helpless, but what would God lose by appearing on his own? Let
him come to us, howsoever we are.”
It will be very difficult for this man to understand that God is
manifest. The question is not that God should manifest himself; he
is already manifest. What this friend is saying is like a man with
closed eyes saying, "It is true that I have closed my eyes, but what
is the difficulty for light? Why does the light not manifest itself to
me? I will remain with my eyes closed; what does the light have to
do with it? Why is the light so stubborn that it only appears if I open
my eyes?”
The light has no stubbornness whatsoever; light is manifest. You
are being stubborn by keeping your eyes closed. And the light has
given you such freedom that it will not open your eyes forcibly - the
Iight can wait for eternity. _____________
The divine is manifest, but you are closed from all sides. That is
why the sage did not first pray to God to become manifest: first he
prayed for his speech and mind to be in harmony. Then too, he is
only saying, “Oh, self-illumined one" - the divine is already
illumined, the divine is the illumination - “be manifest for me.” It is
only in such a moment of opening your eyes that there is some
meaning in the divine becoming manifest. But that manifestation is
from your side, not from the divine’s side. Whenever somebody
opens his eyes, he will feel that light has manifested itself. In fact,
this is so for him. But the light was always there, only his eyes were
closed.

Then the sage says:

Oh, speech and mind!

 This is significant and worth reflecting upon. First, he prayed to
existence that his speech be silent and abide in his mind, and that
his mind abide in his speech. But immediately he became
concerned that speech and mind should not feel hurt.

So he prays:

Oh, speech and mind!

Both of you are the foundations of my knowledge; hence do not
destroy my knowledge.

"I spend all my days and nights practicing this knowledge" - there
is no feeling of enmity or unfriendliness toward mind and speech.
In this world, those who have truly made inward journeys have
always turned all would-be hindrances into stepping-stones. It all
depends on you.
I am walking on the road and I see a big stone blocking the path.
I can weep and cry that it is a hindrance, but those who know will
climb over the stone and go past it. When one climbs over the
stone, he sees things that he would never have seen otherwise.
When one climbs up, the plane changes.
So you will find many sadhus and saints antagonistic to the mind
and to speaking. It will be difficult to find a saint or holy man who
addresses his own mind and speech with respect. In every town
and village you will come across these so-called religious people
who describe the mind as “devil," as “enemy.” But the sage says,
“Oh, my speech and mind!”
At the time of his death Saint Francis did not pray to God. All
those who were present were very much surprised. During his last
moments he opened his eyes and his disciples thought that now he
would pray to God. But this man, who had spent his whole life
praying to God, in those last moments addressed his body and
said, “My beloved body, you have given me all your support and
company. I have ignored you many times, even fought with you,
but you did not withdraw your companionship and support. When I
was ignorant, I thought you were my enemy; when I became a little
wiser, I found out you had been my dearest companion. You can
take me to a pub as well as to a church. And it has always been
me who took the decisions about where to go; you simply followed
and obeyed."
The sage says, “Oh, my speech!” In this world, everything
belongs to the divine. Those who know how to make the right use
of things turn everything into a means. Mind and speech can also
become a means.
The sage says: Oh, speech and mind! Both of you are the
foundations of my knowledge... Here it is necessary to note one
more thing. In the original Sanskrit text, the word used is veda. Its
Hindi translation says, "You are the foundation of my veda-
knowledge’.' But I can only use one word or the other because the
meaning of the word veda is knowledge, and the meaning of
knowledge is veda, there cannot be a word like veda-knowledge.
Using both words together is just a repetition. The word veda
comes from the root vid, from which the word vidwan, the learned
one, also comes. The root vid means knowing. But those who write
the scriptures and translate them have no acquaintance with
knowing. What they mean by the word veda is the famous scripture
of the Hindus, but that is not the meaning of veda. All the scriptures
are born out of veda, knowing - I am not referring to the Vedas of
the Hindus, mind you - because no scripture is able to put a limit to
veda.
So I would not say veda-knowledge, just knowledge is enough.
And I do not say veda because you at once think of the scripture
that we call Veda.
The sage says, “You both are the foundation of my knowledge"
Ordinarily, sadhus and sannyasins explain to people that the
mind is the root of ignorance. Mind as the foundation of
knowledge? Yes, certainly. This does not mean that if you stop at
the knowledge attained by the mind, you area knower. No, mind is
only a springboard: with the help of it you have to jump into nomind.
We will discuss this later on, but one who wants to go into no-mind
has to pass through the mind, using it as a ladder.
However, a serious mistake can be made at this stage. If
someone climbs a staircase in a house, would we ask, "Why climb
at all when you only have to leave the staircase behind after
climbing it?” If a person is a logician, thinking himself an intellectual
- as most of us think ourselves to be - then he would agree: when
the ladder has to be left behind, why climb it at all? Let it be left
untouched. But then you will remain on the ground.
The logician can also take another stand; logic is always double-
edged. He might also say, "I will not give the ladder up at all. I will
use it, but I will not leave it behind after climbing.” He reaches to
the top of the house, but argues, "Is it right to leave something
which has helped me to climb? Is it right that the ladder that has
helped me so much should be thrown away like that? No, I will stay
on the ladder, I will not get off the ladder.”
Those who know, climb the ladder and also leave it behind. In
this world, all means of progress have to be used, but also have to
be given up. The very meaning of a “means” is that it is to be used
in certain situations and given up in others.
Meditation has to be used and also given up. Prayer has to be
used and also given up. Even God has to be used and also given
up. Finally, one has to reach that place where nothing remains to
be used or given up. That is nirvana.
So the sage says: Oh, speech and mind! Both of you are the
foundations of my knowledge... “Whatsoever I have known up to
now is through you. Even if I know that I have not been able to
know yet, this knowing too is through you. Even if I come to know
that I will not be able to know everything through you, this too is
through you.’’
Again, at this stage many mistakes are made. For instance, what
Krishnamurti says relates to this sutra. If Krishnamurti was asked,
“Should we meditate?” he would say, “Meditate? For what?” You
might say, "So that I can go beyond mind.” Krishnamurti would
immediately snap back, “With what will you meditate but with the
mind? And how can you go beyond mind if you meditate with the
mind? The mind will only become stronger; so do not meditate. If
you want to go beyond mind, do not meditate.”
There are many fools who do not meditate because they want to
go beyond mind. And they never question themselves: “Have I
gone beyond mind by not meditating?" By not meditating you have
not gone beyond mind; by meditating you are told that you won’t
be able to go beyond mind - and a great crisis is born this way.
There are people who have been listening to Krishnamurti for
forty years. One wonders what they hear from him, what they go
on listening to. Fie has been saying the same thing for the last forty
years! If there is anybody who has been repeating the same thing
for the last forty or fifty years, it is Krishnamurti - constantly, the
same thing. People who have now become old have been sitting
and listening to him for forty years. There are people who sit at the
same spot - say, near a certain pillar R - to listen to him for years.
A friend of mine told me that he has seen an eighty-year-old man
with a green cap going and sitting at the same spot for the last ten
years. And he goes away after listening to the same sermon; “How
can you go beyond the mind with the mind? After all, you will only
meditate with the mind; then how can you go beyond the mind?
Hence, do not meditate, but go beyond the mind.”
But his listeners never ask Krishnamurti, “How am I listening to
you? With the mind? If I have to listen with the mind, then how can
I go beyond the mind?” You may go on listening again and again
for forty years, but you will remain where you are. After all, there is
no other way of listening but with the mind. It is a strange reasoning.
If listening with the mind you can go beyond the mind, why can’t
you go beyond the mind by meditating with the mind? If you can go
beyond the mind through words, why can’t you go beyond the mind
through experiments in meditation?
Krishnamurti says, “If you meditate, you are conditioning the
mind.” But one person has been sitting and listening to these talks
of his for forty years - has his mind not already been conditioned?
He has begun to repeat Krishnamurti’s statements like a parrot.
The truth is that as long as you are in the mind, even to go beyond
it you will have to use the mind.
For example, I am in a room. When I came into the room, to this
spot, I had to walk in. Now I might think that if I want to leave the
room, I should not walk out of the room because walking is the act
that brought me in. But to go out of the room I will have to walk; the
only difference will be that this time I will be
walking in the opposite direction. When I entered, my face was
toward the wall; when I go out, my face will be toward the door -
but I will have to walk the same distance. One has to use the mind
as much to go beyond it as one used it to be within it. For those
who use the mind to be in the mind, it becomes the foundation of
ignorance; and for those who use the mind to go beyond the mind,
it becomes the foundation of knowledge.
So the sage says: Both of you are the foundations of my
knowledge; hence, do not destroy my knowledge.
When, however, you become rooted within, the mind asks, “Now
why bother to go outward?" But the mind alone is not responsible
for this; it is you who help it in its habits. Mind simply becomes
mechanical.
For example, every day you smoke, keeping the cigarette in your
mouth. With great effort you have helped to create the habit. When
you smoked for the first time, there was coughing and a bitter,
pungent taste spread in your mouth. The cigarette was felt to be
poisonous but you went on doing it, practicing it. Then the cigarette
became a strong habit. Now if you want to give up smoking, the
mind says "No." Now it enjoys smoking. But this situation has
arisen out of your own efforts. In the beginning, mind had rejected
the act of smoking but you did not listen at that time; you went on
smoking. Now again the mind will reject and ridicule your giving it
up. Now that the mind has started enjoying smoking, it will create
hindrances and excuses against your giving it up.
The mind will create hindrances in your going outward. Hence,
the sage is also praying to the mind: “Do not destroy my
knowledge." This is a wonderful prayer that is addressed to the
mind. You may never before have prayed to your own mind. If you
begin to do it you will have wonderful experiences. When your
mouth begins to crave for a cigarette, pray sincerely, "Oh, my
mouth! Do not ask for a cigarette." If the prayer is from the heart,
the mouth will relax and its demand will stop. If sexual desire arises
in you, pray to your sex center to help you not to have sexual
demands and you will be surprised: immediately your sex center
will relax. But you have never prayed.
If you pray to your own body, your ego will feel hurt. While you
were becoming a slave of the body you never felt hurt; in following
the body you never felt hurt; in listening to your body, fulfilling its
idiotic demands, you never felt hurt. Now that you have made your
body your master, only through prayer can you persuade it to do
what you want.
Mind has become the master, so the sage persuades it: “Oh, my
mind, do not become a hindrance; do not destroy my knowledge. I
spend my days and nights in this knowledge, practicing it. You have
to help me." All that it means is: if you want to go in search of the
ultimate truth, you should pray to all your senses - mind and body
- and establish a rapport with them. Once there is a rapport, they
become your colleagues, your companions and friends. Otherwise,
there will be unnecessary conflict with them and this will create
hindrances.
Now two or three things about the morning meditation. From
tomorrow morning we will begin doing our meditation experiments,
so there are three things that I should let you know beforehand.
If you keep in mind what I have said about the sutras, three
things will be understood by you immediately. One is restraint of
the senses: the less you look outward, the deeper your meditation
will go. The less you listen to outer sounds, the less you speak, the
less you touch, the less you eat, the deeper your meditation will be.
So for the seven days be aware of it. Those who have some
understanding should go for a seven-day complete silence. Those
who have too much nonsense in them should show at least this
much understanding and make a sincere effort not to speak. Speak
only as much as you have to. Instead of saying, "I am thirsty," just
say “Thirsty,” or just write it down. For seven days become dumb,
become deaf, become blind.
Tomorrow morning you will get blindfolds to help keep your eyes
closed. Use them as much as you can. While walking along the
road, just slip the blindfold slightly upward so you do not see further
than four feet ahead, just enough for walking. Even if you go into
town, go the same way. People may laugh at you, but that will be
very beneficial.
We are all in the habit of laughing at others. Sometimes one
should do the opposite: give an opportunity to others, create a
situation where others can laugh at you. And remember one thing:
when you laugh at others you are completely unconscious. But
when others laugh at you and you stand quietly in the middle of it
all, great awareness and consciousness can arise.
So you should use the blindfold for your eyes, and you will get
cotton wool to use as earplugs. While I am speaking, you needn’t
keep your blindfolds on and your earplugs in, but just during the
morning meditation.
In the afternoon session, from four to five o'clock, there will be
an hour of kirtan and silence. Everyone has to participate in it. The
kirtan will go on for half an hour, and during that period you should
sing and dance totally and madly. This will be followed by half an
hour of silence. After the kirtan you should blindfold your eyes, plug
your ears and sit down in silence.
During that half an hour of silence there should be no
expression, no catharsis of any kind - no sounds, no weeping, no
shouting, no laughing, nothing. You simply be like a corpse. All that
laughing, shouting, singing and weeping has to be exhausted
completely in the half an hour of kirtan. Only if you are able to empty
yourself completely will you be able to be silent for a half an hour.
If you withhold anything it will try to erupt in the half an hour of
silence; only you will be responsible for that. In the kirtan jump,
dance, cathart completely and throw out all the rubbish. Then for a
half an hour, you either lie down or just sit completely still, like a
corpse. Sitting or lying down, as you like, but there should be no
catharsis of any kind in that half hour - no sounds, no movements,
no action. Everything has to become silent - body, mind and
speech. Everything has to become silent.