Osho - Ancient Music in the Pines
Chapter 5. The
Ultimate Secrets of Swordsmanship
Yagyu Tajima No
Kami Munenori was a teacher of swordsmanship to the shogun.
One of the personal guards of the shogun
came to Tajima No Kami one day asking to be trained in swordplay.
'As I observe, you seem to be a master of
the art yourself,' said the teacher. 'Please tell me to what school you belong
before we enter into the relationship of teacher and pupil.'
The guardsman said: 'I do not belong to any
school, I have never studied the art.'
'It is no use trying to fool me,' said the
teacher. 'My judging eye never fails.'
'I am sorry to defy, your honour,' said the
guard, 'but I really know nothing.'
'If you say so then it must be true, but I
am sure that you are the master of something, so tell me about yourself.'
'There is one thing,' said the guard. 'When
I was a child I thought that a samurai should never be afraid of death, so I
grappled with the problem, and now the thought of death has ceased to worry
me.'
'That's it!' exclaimed the teacher. 'The
ultimate secrets of swordsmanship lie in being released from the thought of
death. You need no technical training, you are already a master.'
The ocean is not only hidden
behind the waves, it is also manifesting itself in the waves.
It is there on the surface as
much as it is in the depth. The depth and the surface are not two separate
things: they are two polarities of the same phenomenon. The center comes to the
circumference; it is as much on the circumference as it is at the center.
God is not only the unmanifest,
it is also the manifest. God is not only the Creator, God is also the creation.
God is as much in his world as he is in himself.
Just the other night, a new
sannyasin asked me,' Osho, can you show me the Divine form?' I told him, 'All
forms are Divine. I have not seen a single form which is not Divine. The whole
existence is Divine - don't divide it into profane and sacred.'
All the time, what else am I
doing? Showing the Divine form. What else are you doing?
Showing the Divine form. What
else is happening all over existence? The Divine is spread everywhere. It is as
much in the small as it is in the great; it is as much in a grass leaf as in a
faraway great star.
But the mind thinks in
dualities. It thinks God is hidden, then it tries to deny the manifest and seek
the unmanifest. Now you are creating an unnecessary conflict for yourself. God
is here, now - as much as anywhere else. God is as much in the seeker as in the
sought.
He is manifesting himself.
That's why I say that the ocean is in the waves. Dig deep into the waves, dig
deep into the form, and you will find the formless.
If you cannot see this it
doesn't mean that God is not manifested, it only means that you are still
blind. You have still not got the eyes that can see the obvious. God is the
obvious.
And this is so on every level
of being: whatsoever you are, you go on broadcasting it around you. You cannot
hide it. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can be hidden. There is a Zen saying that
nothing whatsoever is hidden - from of old, all is as clear as daylight.
But all is not as clear as
daylight for you. That doesn't mean the daylight is not there - it simply means
you are standing with closed eyes. Open your eyes, just a little, and the
darkness starts disappearing. Open your eyes, and wherever you are, immediately
you will be able to see as deep as existence is.
Once your eyes are open,
everything becomes transparent.
When you see me, you just see
the surface, the waves. When you hear me, you only hear the words, not the
silence hidden behind them. You see exactly that which is of no worth and you
miss all that is of any worth and significance. When I see you, it is not the
form, it is not the image that you see in the mirror. When I see you, I see
YOU.
And you are broadcasting
yourself in your every gesture, in your every movement. The way you walk, the
way you talk, the way you stay silent and don't talk, the way you eat, the way
you sit - everything is manifesting you. Anybody who is perceptive will be able
to see whether you are dark inside, or whether you have kindled the flame.
It is as easy as if you pass by
a house in the night, a dark night, and the house is lighted inside. Is it in
any way difficult to know it is lighted? No, because from the windows and from
the doors you can see the light coming out. Or, if the house is in darkness and
there is no light burning inside, then of course, you see it. It is obvious.
The same is happening in you.
Whatsoever you are is being broadcasted every moment.
Your neurosis is broadcasted;
your enlightenment also. Your meditation is broadcasted; your madness also. You
cannot hide it. All efforts to hide yourself are futile. They are stupid,
ridiculous.
I was reading a book by Edmund
Carpenter. He was working on a sociological project, a research project, in
Borneo. He writes: 'In a small town in Borneo, professional clerks sit before
open windows, reading and writing. Because people are illiterate and they
cannot read and write, for their letters, documents, or any other thing, they
need the help of professional writers and readers. And I was very surprised
because I noticed one who was plugging his ears with his fingers while he read
aloud. I inquired and was told that this was done at the request of the writer who
did not want to share his letter with the reader!'
So the reader was plugging his
ears with his fingers and reading the letter loudly!
But this is what is happening
in everybody's life. You go on hiding, but everything is being declared,
continuously, loudly. Everything is being broadcasted; you are a continuous
broadcasting station. Even while you are asleep, you are broadcasting. If a
Buddha comes to you while you are asleep he will be able to see who you are.
Even in your sleep you will be making gestures, faces, movements, uttering
something. And all those things will indicate something about you, because the
sleep is yours and it is bound to carry your signature.
If one becomes a little alert,
one stops hiding. It is futile, it is ridiculous. Then one simply relaxes.
Because of your hiding you remain tense, continuously afraid that somebody may
know about you. You never expose yourself, you never live in the
nude...spiritually I mean. You never live in the nude, you are always afraid.
That fear cripples you and paralyses you.
Once you understand that,
everything is bound to be declared. it is already being declared; that the
center is coming to the circumference every moment, and the ocean is waving in
the waves; that God is everywhere, spread all over existence, and you are
spread all over your activities - there is no point in hiding. Nothing
whatsoever is hidden from of old; everything is as clear as daylight. Then why
bother?
Then one relaxes - the anxiety,
the tension, the anguish, disappear. Suddenly you become vulnerable, no more
closed; suddenly you are open; suddenly you become inviting. And this is the
point to be understood: once you are exposed to others, only then will you be
exposed to yourself. If you are hiding from others, whatsoever you are hiding
from others will by and by be thrown into the basement of your unconscious
mind.
Others will not know about it
and by and by you will also forget about it.
But whenever you come within
the vision of a perceptive man, everything will be revealed. That is one of the
basic reasons why, in the East, the relationship of a disciple to a master is
so valued: because the master is just like a ray of light, an x-ray, and the
disciple exposes himself. And the more the master penetrates and knows about the
disciple the more the disciple by and by becomes aware of his own hidden
treasures.
Trying to hide himself from
others, he has become such an expert in hiding that he hides from himself also.
You don't know much about
yourself; you know just a fragment about yourself, just the tip of the iceberg.
Your knowledge about yourself is very limited - not only limited, it is almost
irrelevant! It is so partial, it is so fragmentary that unless you put it in
the context with your whole being it carries no meaning. It is almost
meaningless.
That's why you go on living
without knowing yourself. And how can one live without knowing oneself? And you
go on projecting things on others which have nothing to do with others; they
may be just hidden inside you. But you project them on others.
Somebody looks Like an egoist
to you - you may be the egoist, and it is you projecting.
Somebody looks very angry. The
anger may be inside you and the other is just like a screen - it is you
projecting.
Unless you know yourself
exactly, you will not be able to know what is real and what is projection. And
you will not be able to know about others also. Self-knowledge becomes the door
of all knowledge; it is the very base. Without that foundation all knowledge is
just knowledge in appearance; deep down it is ignorance.
I have heard an anecdote.
Mistress Jones, deeply
troubled, was consulting a psychiatrist.
'My husband,' she said, 'is
convinced he is a chicken. He goes around scratching constantly, and sleeps on
a large bar of wood he has fixed up as a perch.'
'I see,' said the psychiatrist
thoughtfully. 'And how long has your husband been suffering from this
fixation?'
'For nearly two years now.'
The psychiatrist frowned
slightly and said, 'But why have you waited till now to seek help?'
Mistress Jones blushed and
said, 'Ah well, it was so nice having a steady supply of eggs!'
Now this woman is neurotic -
but she thinks her husband is neurotic! Whenever you think something about
somebody else - watch. Don't be in a hurry. First look within. The cause may be
inside you. But you don't know yourself so you go on confusing your own
projections with outer realities. It is impossible to know anything real unless
you have known yourself. And the only way to know oneself is to live a life of
vulnerability.
Don't live in a closed cell.
Don't hide yourself behind your mind. Come out.
Once you come out you will
become by and by aware of millions of things in you. You are not a one-room
apartment, you have many rooms - you are a palace. But you have become accustomed
to living on the porch and you have forgotten the palace completely.
Many treasures are hidden in
you, and those treasures constantly go on knocking, inviting. But you are
almost deaf.
This blindness, this deafness,
this insensitivity, has to be broken - and nobody else can do it. If somebody
else tries, you will feel offended, you will feel a trespassing. 11 happens
every day. If I try to help you, you feel you have been trespassed upon; if I
try to say something true about you, you feel offended, you feel humiliated,
you feel hurt, your pride is hurt. You want to listen to lies about yourself
from me; you want to listen to something which helps your already-fixed image.
You have a very golden image about yourself which is false. It has to be
shattered to pieces, because once it is shattered, the reality will arise. If
it is not shattered you will go on clinging to it.
You think you are religious,
you think you are a great seeker - you may not be religious at all. You may be
simply afraid of life. In your temples and churches cowards are hiding, afraid
of life. But to accept that one is afraid of life is very humiliating so they
say they are not afraid of life, they have renounced: 'Life is not worth
anything. Life is only for mediocre minds.' They have renounced everything for
God; they are searching for God.
But watch. They are trembling.
On their knees they are praying - but their prayer is not of love, their prayer
is not of celebration, their prayer is not a festivity. Their prayer is out of
fear. And fear corrupts everything; nobody can approach God through fear.
You have to approach truth
through fearlessness, but if you are hiding your fear behind religiousness then
it will be very difficult to shatter it. You are greedy, miserly, but you go on
saying that you live a very simple life. If you are hiding behind the
rationalization of simplicity, then it is very difficult to see that you are a
miser.
A miser misses tremendously.
Because life is for those who share, life is for those who love, life is for
those who are not too clinging to things - because then they become available
to persons.
To cling to a thing is to cling
to something which is below you. And if you go on clinging to things which are
below you, how can you soar high? It is as if you are clinging to rocks and
trying to fly in the sky. Or you are carrying rocks on the head and trying to
climb Everest. You have to throw them. You have to throw those rocks. You will
have to unburden yourself.
Edmund Hillary, the first man
to reach to the top of Everest, says in his autobiography, 'As we started
reaching closer and closer, I had to leave more and more things behind. At the
last moment, I had to leave almost everything, because everything became such a
burden.'
The higher you reach, the more
unburdened you need to be. So a miser cannot soar high.
A miser cannot soar in love, or
in prayer, or in God. He remains clinging to the earth, he almost remains
rooted in the earth. Trees cannot fly. If you want to fly, you need to be
uprooted. You need to be like a white cloud, with no roots anywhere - a
wanderer.
But you can hide your miserable
self. And you can hide your diseases behind good, beautiful terms and words.
You can be very articulate and you can be very rationalizing.
All these have to be broken.
And if you go on hiding, then
not only do you hide your diseases, you hide your treasures also. This hiding
becomes a fixation, it becomes a habit, an obsession. But I tell you, before a
perceptive man, before a Master who has known himself, you will be completely
x-rayed. You cannot hide from somebody who has eyes. You can hide from
yourself, you can hide from the world, but you cannot hide from somebody who
has come to know what clarity is, what perception is.
For such a man, you are
absolutely on the surface.
I have heard about an American
couple who were strolling along the banks of the Seine under the shadows of
Notre Dame. He was lost in silence. She said finally, 'What are you thinking
about, darling?'
'I was thinking, dear, that if
anything happened to either of us, I would like to spend the rest of my life in
Paris.'
He may not be aware of what he
is saying; he may have uttered this in absolute unawareness. Let me repeat it.
He says, 'I was thinking, dear, that if anything happened to either of us, I
would like to spend the rest of my life in Paris.' He wants the wife to die
although he is not saying it clearly. But he has said it.
We continuously broadcast, in
many ways.
Just a few days ago, President
Ford gave a party in honor of the Egyptian ambassador to the States. But then
when he was giving the toast he forgot completely and something from the
unconscious bubbled up - a slip of the tongue, we say, but it is not just a
slip of the tongue. He raised the glass and said, 'In honor of the great nation
of Israel.' To Egyptians! Then of course he tried to mend it, to patch it - but
it was too late. Deep down, he wants Israel to win over the Egyptians; from the
unconscious it bubbled up, surfaced.
It happened at a party: a man
was leaving, but he was very diffident. He murmured to the hostess, 'The meal
was delicious what there was of it.'
Noting the hurt expression on
his hostess' face, the guest blushed and hastened to say, 'Ah, ah. And there
was plenty of food, such as it was.'
These are unconscious
assertions; they come out of you when you are not on guard.
Ordinarily, you are on guard.
That's why people are so tense: continuously on guard, guarding themselves. But
there are moments when the tension is too much and one relaxes; one has to
relax, one cannot be on guard for twenty-four hours. In those moments, things
surface.
You are truer when you have
drunk a little too much, and things start surfacing from your unconscious.
Under the influence of alcohol you are truer than you ordinarily are, because
the alcohol relaxes the guard. Then you start saying things you always wanted
to say, and you are not worried about anything, and you are not trying to leave
any impression - you are simply being true. Drunkards are beautiful persons:
truer, more authentic. It is ironical that only drunkards are authentic.
The more you are clever and
cunning, the more inauthentic you become. Don't hide behind screens. Come out
in the sunshine. And don't be afraid that your image will be shattered. The
image that you are afraid of being shattered is not worth keeping - it is
better to shatter it on your own. Take a hammer and shatter it.
That's what being a SANNYASIN
means: you take a hammer in your hands and you shatter the old image. And then
you start a new life from ABC, from the very beginning again, as if you are
born again. It is a rebirth.
Then by and by, if you relax,
and if you are not too much worried about your image in the eyes of others,
your own authentic face, your original face, comes into being - the face that
you had before you were born, and the face that you will again have when you
are dead, the original face, not the cultivated mask. With that original face
you will see God everywhere, because with the original face you can meet with
the original, with the reality.
With a mask, you will meet only
other masks; with a mask, there can be never any dialogue with reality; with a
mask, you remain in the relationship of 'I' and 'it'. The reality remains
behind it. When the mask is removed and you have come back home, a tremendous
transformation happens. The relationship with reality is no more one of 'I/it',
it is of 'I/Thou'. That 'Thou' is God.
The reality takes on a
personality: you become alive there, reality becomes alive there. It has always
been alive - just you were dead. It is as if you have taken chloroform: when
you come back, and the influence of the chloroform disappears by and by, how do
you feel? It is a beautiful experience! If you have never been to the surgeon's
table, go, just for the experience! For a few moments you are completely in
oblivion - and then consciousness arises. Suddenly, everything becomes alive,
fresh. You are coming out of the womb. Exactly the same happens when you decide
to live an authentic life. Then for the first time you understand that now you
are born. Just before...you were thinking and dreaming that you were alive -
but you were not.
A great mathematician, Herr
Gauss, was keeping vigil while his wife lay ill upstairs. And as time passed,
he found himself beginning to ponder a deep problem in mathematics.
People have grooves in their
mind and they move in the same grooves again and again. A mathematician has a
certain track. The wife is going to die, the doctors have said that this is
going to be the last night, he is keeping vigil - but the mind started moving,
in its old pattern of course. He has started thinking about a mathematical
problem. Just see. The wife will no longer be there, it is the last night, but
the mind is creating a screen of mathematics. He has completely forgotten about
the wife; he has moved, he has gone far away on a journey.
As time passed he found himself
beginning to ponder a deep problem in mathematics. He drew pen and paper to
himself and began to draw diagrams. A servant approached and said
deferentially. Herr Gauss. your wife is dying.
And Gauss, never looking up,
said, 'Yes, yes. But tell her to wait till I'm through.
Even the great minds are as
much unconscious as you are. As far as consciousness is concerned, great,
small, and mediocre, all sail in the same boat. Even the greatest mind lives
under chloroform.
Come out of it. Make yourself
more alert. Bring yourself together. Let one thing become a centering, a
constant centering in you - and that is alertness, awareness. Do whatsoever you
do, but do it consciously. And by and by consciousness accumulates and it
becomes a reservoir of energy.
Now, the Zen story.
Yagyu Tajima No Kami Munenori
was a teacher of swordsmanship to the shogun.
In Zen, and only in Zen,
something of great import has happened. That is, they don't make any distinction
between ordinary life and religious life; rather, they have bridged them both.
And they have used very ordinary skills as UPAYA, as methods for meditation.
That is something of tremendous import. Because if you don't use ordinary life
as a method to meditation, your meditation is bound to become something of an
escape.
In India it has happened, and
India has suffered badly. The misery that you see all around, the poverty, the
horrible ugliness of it, is because India always thought religious life to be
separate from ordinary life. So people who became interested in God, they
renounced the world. People who became interested in God, they closed their
eyes, sat in the caves in the Himalayas, and tried to forget that the world
existed. They tried to create the idea that the world is simply an illusion,
illusory, a MAYA, a dream. Of course, life suffered much because of it.
All the greatest minds of this
country became escapists, and the country was left to the mediocres. No science
could evolve; no technology could evolve.
But in Japan, Zen has done
something very beautiful. That's why Japan is the only country where East and
West are meeting: Eastern meditation and Western reason are in a deep synthesis
in Japan. Zen has created the whole situation there. In India you could not
conceive that swordsmanship could become an UPAYA, a method for meditation, but
in Japan they have done it. And I see that they have brought something very new
to religious consciousness.
Anything can be converted into
a meditation because the whole thing is awareness. And of course, in
swordsmanship more awareness is needed than anywhere else because life will be
at stake every moment. When fighting with a sword you have to be constantly
alert - a single moment's unconsciousness and you will be gone. In fact, a real
swordsman does not function out of his mind, he cannot function out of his mind
- because mind takes time. It thinks, calculates. And when you are fighting
with a sword, where is time? There is no time. If you miss a single fragment of
a second in thinking, the other will not miss the opportunity: the other's
sword will penetrate into your heart or cut off your head.
So thinking is not possible.
One has to function out of no-mind, one has to simply function, because the
danger is so much that you cannot afford the luxury of thinking.
Thinking needs an easy chair.
You just relax in the easy chair and you go off on mind trips.
But when you are fighting and
life is at stake and the swords are shining in the sun and at any moment a
slight unawareness and the other will not lose the opportunity, you will be
gone forever, there is no space for thought to appear, one has to function out
of no- thought. That's what meditation is all about.
if you can function out of
no-thought, if you can function out of no-mind, if you can function as a total
organic unity, not out of the head, if you can function out of your guts.... It
can happen to you. You are walking one night and suddenly a snake crosses the
path. What do you do? Do you sit there and think about it? No, suddenly you
jump out of the way. In fact you don't decide to jump, you don't think in a
logical syllogism that: here is a snake; and wherever there is a snake there is
danger; therefore, ergo, I should jump.
That is not the way! You simply
jump! The action is total. The action is not corrupted by thinking, it comes
out of your very core of being, not out of the head. Of course, when you have
jumped out of the danger you can sit under a tree and think about the whole
thing - that's another matter! Then you can afford the luxury.
The house catches fire. What do
you do? Do you think whether to go out or not to go out - to be or not to be?
Do you consult a scripture about whether it is right to do it? Do you sit
silently and meditate upon it? You simply get out of the house. And you will
not be worried about manners and etiquette - you will jump out of the window.
Just two nights ago a girl
entered here at three o'clock in the night and started screaming in the garden.
Asheesh jumped out of his bed, ran - and only then he realized that he was
naked. Then he came back. That was an act out of no-mind, without any thought.
He simply jumped out of the bed. Thought came later on. Thought followed,
lagged behind.
He was ahead of thought. Of
course, it caught hold of him so he missed an opportunity. It would have become
a satori - but he came back and put on his gown. Missed!
Swordsmanship became one of the
UPAYAS, one of the basic methodologies. Because the very thing is so dangerous
that it doesn't allow thinking. It can lead you towards a different type of
functioning, a different type of reality, a separate reality. You know of only
one way to function: to think first and then to function. In swordsmanship, a
different-type of existence becomes open to you: you function first and then
you think.
Thinking is no longer primary,
and this is the beauty.. when thinking is not primary, you cannot err.
You have heard the proverb: it
is human to err. Yes, it is true. It is human to err because the human mind is
prone to err. But when you function out of no-mind you are no longer human, you
are Divine and then there is no possibility of erring. Because the total never
errs, only the part; only the part goes astray. God never errs, he cannot err. He
is the Whole. When you start functioning out of nothingness, with no syllogism,
with no thinking, with no conclusions - your conclusions are limited, they
depend on your experience, and you can err - when you put aside all your
conclusions, you are putting aside all limitations also. Then you function out
of your unlimited being, and it never errs.
It is said that sometimes it
has happened in Japan that two Zen people will fight who have both attained to
satori through swordsmanship. They cannot be defeated. Nobody can be victorious
because they both never err. Before the other attacks, the first has already
made preparations to receive it. Before the other's sword moves to cut off his
head, he is already prepared to defend the attack. And the same happens with
his attack. Two Zen people who have attained to satori can go on fighting for
years, but it is impossible - they cannot err. Nobody can be defeated and
nobody can be victorious.
Yagyv Tajima No Kami Munenori
was a teacher of swordsmanship to the shogun.
One of the personal guards of
the shogun came to Tajima No Kami one day asking to be trained in swordsplay.
'As I observe, you seem to be a
master of the art yourself,' said the teacher.
As I observe...' said the
Master. When Buddha was alive, one of his contemporaries was Mahavir. Between
the disciples of the two there has been a great discussion ever since. The
discussion is about an enlightened person's awareness. Mahavir's followers,
Jainas, say that whenever a person has become enlightened, he always knows
everything of the past, of the present, of the future. He has become
omniscient. He knows everything. He has become a mirror to the whole of the
reality.
Buddha's followers say that
that is not so. They say that he becomes capable of knowing anything if he
observes. If he tries to focus on anything, he will be able to know everything
about it. But it does not happen as the followers of Mahavir say - that whether
he focuses or not, he knows.
To me also, the Buddhist
standpoint seems to be better and more scientific. Otherwise a man like Buddha
would go almost mad. Just think of it: knowing everything of the past, and the
present, and the future. No, that doesn't seem to be right. The Buddhist attitude
seems to be more right: he has become capable of knowing.
Now, whenever he wants to use
the capacity, he focuses, he throws his ray of light, he puts something in the
flow of his meditation - and that thing becomes revealed to him.
Otherwise it would be
impossible for him to rest. Even in the night he would be continuously knowing,
knowing the past, and the present, and the future. And not only of himself, of
the whole world! Just think of the sheer impossibility of it. No. That's not
possible.
'As I observe...' said the
Master. The disciple has come and he has asked to be trained in swordplay. The
Master said, 'As I observe...' He focuses his ray of light, his torch, towards
this disciple. Now this disciple is under his meditation. He goes through and
through - the disciple becomes transparent. That is what happens when you come
to a Master: simply his light penetrates you to your very core....'you seem to
be a master of the art yourself,' said the teacher. He could not find anything
wrong in this man. Everything was as it should be, in tune, humming. This man
was a beautiful song; he had already achieved.
'Please tell me to what school
you belong before we enter into the relationship of teacher and pupil.'
That is the highest
relationship in the world - greater than a love relationship, greater than any
relationship. Because the surrender has to be total. Even in a love
relationship the surrender is not total, surrender is partial. the divorce is
possible. But in fact, if you have once become a disciple of a Master, if you
have really become a disciple, if you have been accepted, if you have
surrendered, there is no possibility of divorce. There is no going back; it is
a point of no return. Then the two persons are no more there. They exist like
one, two aspects of one, but they are not two.
So the Master says, 'Before we
enter into the relationship of teacher and pupil, I would like to know where
you learned this art. How have you become so tuned? You are already a Master.'
The guardsman said, 'I do not
belong to any school, I have never studied the art.'
'It is no use trying to fool
me,' said the teacher. 'My judging eye never fails.'
Now, listen to this paradox:
the judging eye arises only when you have left all judgment.
In meditation you have to leave
all judging: what is good, what is bad - you have to drop all that division.
You simply look. You look without any judgment, without any condemnation,
without any appreciation. You don't evaluate, you simply look. The look becomes
pure.
When this look has happened to
you and has become an integrated thing in your being.
You attain to a capacity which
never fails. Once you have become one insider and gone beyond morality, dualism
- good and bad. sin and virtue, life and death, beautiful and ugly - once you
have gone beyond the dualisms of mind, you attain to the judging eye.
This is the paradox: all
judgment has to be left, then you attain to the judging eye. Then it never
fails. You simply know it is so, and there is no alternative to it. It is not a
choice on your part, it is not a decision, it is a simple revelation that it is
so.
It is no use trying to fool
me,' said the teacher. 'My judging eye never fails.'
'I am sorry to defy, your
honor,' said the guard, 'but I really know nothing.'
'If you say so, then it must be
true, but I am sure you are the master of something....'
Now this point has to be
understood: it makes no difference what you are a Master of, the taste of
Mastery is the same, the flavor is the same. You can become a Master of
archery, or you can become a Master of swordsmanship, or you can become a
Master Just of the ordinary tea ceremony - it makes no difference. The real
thing is that you have become a Master. The art has gone so deep that you are
not carrying it anymore; the art has gone so deep that now there is no need to
think about it - it has become simply your nature.
'...but I am sure that you are
the master of something... Maybe you aren't a Master of swordsmanship, but you
are a Master '...so tell me about yourself.' 'there is one thing,' said the
guard. 'When I was a child I thought that a samurai should never be afraid of
death, so grappled with the problem. And now the thought of death has ceased to
worry me.'
But that is what the whole of
religion is all about. If death no longer bothers you, you have become a
Master. If you have tasted something of the deathless, something of your
innermost nature - you have known something of the eternal. To know the
deathless is the whole business of life. Life is an opportunity to know the
deathless.
'...And now the thought of
death has ceased to worry me.
'That's it!' exclaimed the
teacher. 'The ultimate secrets of swordsmanship lie in being re/eased from the
thought of death.
You need no technical training,
you are already a master.'
When you are fighting with a
sword, if you are afraid of death, thinking will continue.
Now let me tell you one basic
truth: thinking is out of fear.
All thinking is out of fear.
The more you become afraid, the more you think. Whenever there is no fear,
thinking stops. If you have fallen in love with someone, there are moments with
your beloved or your lover when thinking stops. Just sitting by the lake, doing
nothing, holding hands, looking at the moon or the stars, or just gazing into
the darkness of the night, sometimes thoughts stop because there is no fear.
Love dispels fear just as light dispels darkness.
If even for a moment you have
been in love with someone, fear disappears and thinking stops. With fear,
thinking continues. The more you are afraid, the more you have to think -
because by thinking you will create security; by thinking, you will create a
citadel around you; by thinking you will manage, or try to manage, how to
fight.
A swordsman, if he is afraid of
death, cannot be a real swordsman because the fear will make him tremble. With
just a slight trembling inside, a slight thinking inside, he will not be able
to act out of no-mind.
There is a story.
A man in China became the
greatest archer. He asked the king, 'Declare me as the greatest archer of the
country.' The king was just going to decide and declare him when an old servant
of the king said, 'Wait, sir. I know a man who lives in the forest who never
comes to the town. He is a greater archer. So let this young man go to him and
learn from him for at least three years. He does not know what he is demanding.
He is like a camel who has not yet come across a mountain. Archers don't live
in the capitals, the real archers are in the mountains. I know one, and I know
for certain that this man is nothing.'
Of course, the man was sent. He
went. He could not believe that there could be a greater archer than him. But
he found the old man and, he was! For three years he learned from him. Then one
day, when he had learned everything, the thought arose in him that, 'If I kill
this old man, then I will be the greatest archer.'
The old man had gone to cut
wood and he was coming back carrying wood on his head.
The young man hid behind a
tree, waiting to kill him. He shot an arrow. The old man took a small piece of
wood and threw it. It struck the arrow and the arrow turned back and wounded
the young man very deeply. The old man came, took out the arrow, and said, 'I knew
this. I knew that some day or other you were going to do this. That's why I
have not taught you this secret. Only one secret I have kept for myself. There
is no need to kill me, I am not a competitor. But one thing I must tell you -
my Master is still alive, and I am nothing before him. You will have to go
deeper into the mountains. He is a man of one hundred and twenty years, very
old - but while he is alive, nobody can pretend and nobody should even think of
declaring. You must be with him for at least thirty years. And he is very old,
so go fast! Find the old man!'
The young man traveled, now
very desperate. It seemed to be impossible to become the greatest archer in the
country. He found the old man. He was very ancient, one hundred and twenty
years old, completely bent, he could not stand upright. But the young man was
surprised because there was no bow, no arrow, with him. And he asked, 'Are you
the old man who is the greatest archer?'
The old man said, 'Yes.'
'But where are your bow and
arrows?'
The old man said, 'Those are
playthings. Real archers don't need them once they have learned the art. They
are just devices to learn; once you have learned, you throw them. A great
musician will throw his instrument because he has learned what music is. How to
carry the instrument is foolish, childish.'
And the old man said, 'But if
you are really interested in becoming an archer, then come with me.'
He took him to a precipice. A
rock was there overlooking a very deep valley. The old man went ahead of the young
man and stood just at the very edge. With a slight trembling he would topple
down into the valley. He called the young man to come close to him. He started
perspiring, he started trembling, it was so dangerous to be there.
At just two feet away he said,
'I cannot come that close.' The old man started laughing and he said, 'If you
tremble so much with fear, how can you become an archer? Fear must disappear
totally, with no trace left behind.'
The young man said, 'But how
can it be? I am afraid of death.'
The old man said, 'Drop the
idea of death. Find someone who can teach you what a deathless life is and you
will become the greatest archer - never before.'
Fear creates trembling; fear
creates thinking. Thinking is a sort of inner trembling. When one becomes
unwavering, the flame of consciousness remains there, undistracted,
untrembling.
'That's it!' exclaimed the
teacher. 'The ultimate secrets of swordsmanship are in being released from the
thought of death. You need no technical training, you are already a master.'
But he was not aware of his own
mastery. He may have been hiding many other things and because of that he was
hiding his treasures also. Once exposed to a Master, he became alert. And the
Master said, 'There is no need for any techniques. You are already a Master.'
As I see in you, everybody is
carrying the deathless within him. You may know it, you may not know it, that
is not the point - but you are carrying it within you. It is already there, it
is already the case. Just a slight understanding of it and your life can be
transformed. And then there is no need of any techniques; religion is not
technology Everybody is born with a secret treasure but goes on living as if he
were born a beggar.
Everybody is born an emperor
but goes on living like a beggar. Realize it! And the realization will come to
you only if by and by you drop your fear.
So whenever fear comes to you,
don't suppress it, don't repress it, don't avoid it, don't get occupied in
something so that you can forget about it. No! When fear comes, watch it. Be
face to face with it. Encounter it. Look deep into it. Gaze into the valley of
fear. Of course you will perspire, and you will tremble, and it will be like a
death, and you will have to live it many times. But by and by, the more your
eyes become clear, the more your awareness becomes alert, the more your focus
is there on the fear, the fear will disappear Like a mist.
And once fear disappears,
sometimes, even for only a moment, suddenly you are deathless.
There is no death. Death is the
greatest illusion there is, the greatest myth - a lie. For even a single
moment, if you can see that you are deathless. then no meditation is needed.
Then live that experience, then
act out of that experience, and the doors of eternal life are open for you.
Much is being missed because of
fear. We are too attached to the body and we go on creating more and more fear
because of that attachment. The body is going to die, the body is part of
death, the body is death - but you are beyond the body. You are not the body;
you are the bodiless. Remember it. Realize it. Awaken yourself to this truth -
that you are beyond the body. You are the witness, the seer. Then death
disappears and fear disappears, and there arises the tremendously glorious life
- what Jesus calls 'life abundant,' or 'the kingdom of God.' The kingdom of God
is within you.