One evening two monks arrived at their hut. For four months they had been away travelling but now, as it was the rainy season, they had returned to their hut. But when they reached their hut, the younger monk who was walking ahead suddenly became angry and sad. The winds of the rains had carried away half of the hut; only half of it was left. They had come back after four months in the hope that they would be able to rest in the hut and be safe from the rain. But now it was difficult. Half of the hut had fallen down and half of its roof had been carried away by the winds. The young monk said to his old companion, "This is too much! These are the things which create doubt about the existence of god. The sinners have palaces in the cities, nothing has happened to them, but the hut of poor people like us, who spend day and night in prayer, is in ruins. I doubt whether god exists! Is this prayer real! Or are we making a mistake? Maybe there is truth in sin -- because the palaces of the sinful stand safe and the huts of the people who pray are carried away by the winds." The young monk was full of anger and condemnation and he felt that all his prayers were futile. But his old companion raised his folded hands towards the sky and tears of joy started flowing from his eyes. The young man was surprised. He said,"What are you doing?" The old man said, "I am thanking god, because who knows what the winds might have done? They could have blown away the whole hut, but god must have created some obstacles for the wind and in that way saved half our hut for us. God is concerned about us poor people also, so we should thank him. Our prayers have been heard, our prayers have not been futile -- otherwise the whole roof might have been blown away."  That night both of them slept -- but as you can imagine, both slept in different ways. The one who was full of anger and rage, and who thought that all his prayers were futile, kept on changing his position all night, and all kinds of nightmares and worries were racing around in his mind. He was worried. There were clouds in the sky; it was about to rain. Half of the roof had been blown away by the winds and they could see the sky. Tomorrow the rain would start, then what would happen? The other slept a very deep sleep. Who else can sleep so peacefully except one whose being is filled with gratitude and thankfulness? He got up in the morning and started dancing, and singing a song. In the song he said, "O God! We didn't know that there could be so much bliss in a broken-down hut. If we had known it before, then we would not have even bothered your winds, we ourselves would have taken away half of the roof. I never slept so blissfully. Because half of the roof was not there, I saw the stars and the gathering clouds in your sky whenever I opened my eyes during the night. And now that the rains are about to start it will be even more beautiful because, with half the roof gone, we will be able to hear the music of your rain-drops much more clearly. We have been idiots! We have spent so many rainy seasons sheltering inside the hut. We had no idea what joy it could be to be exposed to the sky and the wind and the rain. If we had realized it we would not have bothered your winds, we ourselves would have got rid of half the roof." The young man asked, "What is this I am hearing? What is all this nonsense? What is this madness? What are you saying?" The old man said, "I have looked at things deeply and my experience is that whatever makes us more happy, that is the right direction in life for us, and whatever makes us suffer more, that is the wrong direction. I thanked god and my bliss increased. You became angry at god and your anguish increased. You were restless last night, I slept peacefully. Now I am able to sing a song and you are burning with anger. Very early I came to understand that the direction in which life becomes more blissful is the right direction. And I have directed my whole consciousness towards that direction. I don't know whether god exists or not, I don't know whether he has heard our prayers or not, but my proof is that I am happy and dancing, and you are crying and angry and worried. My bliss proves that my way of living is right; your anguish proves that the way you are living is wrong."

Perhaps once in a while somebody comes back to his childhood again. Come back to your innocent childhood again. What you have not done in your first birth you can do in your second. Enlightenment is nothing but your disappearance. It is nothing but a pure silence. Naturally one feels afraid and one starts thinking, "It is better to remain unenlightened and searching for it." That's why you are enlightened, but you don't want to recognize it. You want to find some way so that you can start searching for enlightenment again.
Little Ernie is sitting at the back of the class, a can of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other when Miss Goodbody says, "Okay children, today we are going to play a game. I'm going to say a few words about something, and you try to tell me what I'm thinking about. Okay, here we go! The first thing is a fruit. It's round and it's red." Little Billy raises his hand and says, "An apple." Miss Goodbody says, "No, it's a tomato, but I'm glad to see you're thinking. The next one is round and it's a green vegetable." Little Mary says, "It's a lettuce." "No," says Miss Goodbody, "it's a pea. But I'm glad to see you're thinking." Just then Ernie raises his hand and says, "Hey, teach! Mind if I ask you one?" "Go right ahead," says Miss Goodbody.  "Okay," says Ernie, "I've got something in my pocket, and it's long and it's hard and it's got a pink tip." "Ernie!" shouts Miss Goodbody, "that's disgusting." "It's a pencil," says Ernie, "but I'm glad to see you're thinking

Ein bereits älterer Mönch kam zu einem Zen-Meister und sagte:"Ich habe in meinem Leben eine Vielzahl von spirituellen Lehrern aufgesucht und nach und nach immer mehr Vergnügungen aufgegeben, um meine Begierden zu bekämpfen. Ich habe lange Zeit gefastet, jahrelang mich dem Zölibat unterworfen und mich regelmäßig kasteit. Ich habe alles getan, was von mir verlangt wurde, und ich habe wahrhaft gelitten, doch die Erleuchtung wurde mir nicht zuteil. Ich habe alles aufgegeben, jede Gier, jede Freude, jedes Streben fallengelassen. Was soll ich jetzt noch tun?" Der Meister erwiderte: "Gib das Leiden auf!"
Ein junger Mönch fragte seinen Meister: "Meister, wenn ich eines Tages sterbe, wie mache ich es richtig ?" Der Meister erwiderte ruhig: "Wenn Du stirbst, dann stirb einfach."
Ryokan und ein junger Mönch wanderten zusammen. In einem Teehaus erhielten sie Reis mit Fisch. Der junge Mönch ließ den Fisch unangetastet aber Ryokan aß seine Bettelschale ohne Zögern leer. Der junge Mönch sagte: "Der Reis enthielt Fisch." Ryokan antwortete lächelnd: "Ja das war wirklich lecker." An jenem Abend durften sie bei einem Bauern übernachten, und am folgenden Morgen klagte der junge Mönch: "Die Flöhe haben wie verrückt gestochen, ich war die ganze Nacht wach, wieso konntest du so tief schlafen?" Ryokan antwortete gleichmütig: "Ich esse Fisch, wenn er mir angeboten wird, und ich lasse die Flöhe und Mücken sich auch an mir sättigen."

Every sound is a created sound.
Whatsoever sounds you have heard, they are all created. That which is created
will die. I can clap my hands -- a sound is created. It was not there before and
now it is no more; it was created and it has died. A created sound is known as
AHAT NADA. Uncreated sound is known as ANAHAT NADA - the sound that is always.
Which is that sound that is always? It is not really a sound. You call it a
sound because the absence is heard.
If you live by a railway station and one
day the railway union goes on strike, you will hear something no one can hear.
You will hear the absence of the trains coming and going and moving.
We are accustomed to
sounds. Every moment is filled with sound. Our heads are constantly filled by
sounds and sounds and sounds. When your mind goes away, moves up or down, goes
beyond or below, when you are not in the world of sounds, you can hear the
absence. That absence is soundlessness.
But Indians have called it anahat nada.
Because it is heard they call it nada -- sound; and because it is not really a
sound they call it anahat -- uncreated. "Uncreated sound" is contradictory. Sound
is created -- "uncreated" contradicts. So all deep experiences of life have to
be expressed in contradictory terms.

 

AND SOME OF YOUR ELDERS REMEMBER
PLEASURES WITH REGRET LIKE WRONGS COMMITTED IN DRUNKENNESS.
BUT REGRET IS THE
BECLOUDING OF THE MIND AND NOT ITS CHASTISEMENT.
THEY SHOULD REMEMBER THEIR
PLEASURES WITH GRATITUDE, AS THEY WOULD THE HARVEST OF A SUMMER.
YET IF IT
COMFORTS THEM TO REGRET, LET THEM BE COMFORTED.
AND THERE ARE AMONG YOU THOSE
WHO ARE NEITHER
YOUNG TO SEEK NOR OLD TO REMEMBER;
AND IN THEIR FEAR OF
SEEKING AND REMEMBERING
THEY SHUN ALL PLEASURES, LEST THEY NEGLECT THE SPIRIT
OR OFFEND AGAINST IT.
BUT EVEN IN THEIR FOREGOING IS THEIR PLEASURE.
AND
THUS THEY TOO FIND A TREASURE THOUGH THEY DIG FOR ROOTS WITH QUIVERING
HANDS.
BUT TELL ME, WHO IS HE THAT CAN OFFEND THE SPIRIT?
SHALL THE
NIGHTINGALE OFFEND THE STILLNESS OF THE NIGHT, OR THE FIREFLY THE STARS?
AND
SHALL YOUR FLAME OR YOUR SMOKE BURDEN THE WIND?
THINK YOU THE SPIRIT IS A
STILL POOL WHICH YOU CAN TROUBLE WITH A STAFF?
OFTENTIMES IN DENYING YOURSELF
PLEASURE YOU DO BUT STORE THE DESIRE IN THE RECESSES OF YOUR BEING.
WHO KNOWS
BUT THAT WHICH SEEMS OMITTED TODAY, WAITS FOR TO-MORROW?
EVEN YOUR BODY KNOWS
ITS HERITAGE AND ITS RIGHTFUL NEED AND WILL NOT BE DECEIVED.
AND YOUR BODY IS
THE HARP OF YOUR SOUL,
AND IT IS YOURS TO BRING FORTH SWEET MUSIC FROM IT OR
CONFUSED SOUNDS.
AND NOW YOU ASK IN YOUR HEART, "HOW SHALL WE DISTINGUISH
THAT WHICH IS GOOD IN PLEASURE FROM THAT WHICH IS NOT GOOD?"
GO TO YOUR
FIELDS AND YOUR GARDENS, AND YOU SHALL LEARN THAT IT IS THE PLEASURE OF THE BEE
TO GATHER HONEY OF THE FLOWER,
BUT IT IS ALSO THE PLEASURE OF THE FLOWER TO
YIELD ITS HONEY TO THE BEE.
FOR TO THE BEE A FLOWER IS A FOUNTAIN OF
LIFE,
AND TO THE FLOWER A BEE IS A MESSENGER OF LOVE,
AND TO BOTH, BEE AND
FLOWER, THE GIVING AND THE RECEIVING OF PLEASURE IS A NEED AND AN
ECSTASY.
BE IN YOUR PLEASURES LIKE THE FLOWERS AND THE
BEES.

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