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Baul Mystics

VOL. 2, THE BELOVED

Chapter-3

Close Your Eyes And Try To Catch Him

 

 

Energy Enhancement          Enlightened Texts         Baul Mystics           The Beloved

 

 

NEVER PLUNGE INTO THE RIVER OF LUST,

YOU WILL NOT REACH THE SHORES.

IT IS A RIVER OF NO COASTS WHERE TYPHOONS RAGE.

GO TO THE HOME OF BEAUTY AND FORM,

SHOULD YOU WISH TO SEE THE MAN WITHIN.

HIS WAYS CROSS THE SPHERE

WHERE LIFE LIVES WITH DEATH,

AND SENSE WITH INSANITY.

CLOSE YOUR EYES AND TRY TO CATCH HIM.

HE IS SLIPPING BY.

JEAN-PAUL SARTRE says that man is a useless passion. Meaningless. Futile. He is right if there is nothing beyond man; if there is nothing transcendental to man, he is right because the meaning always comes from a higher source. The meaning is never in the thing in itself; it always comes from the beyond.

For example, you can watch a seed; in itself it is meaningless unless it sprouts. Once it sprouts it becomes meaningful. The tree is the meaning for the seed. Now the seed exists for a certain reason. Its existence is not accidental, it is meaningful. It has to give birth, it has to create something; something that is beyond it, something that is bigger than it, something that is more comprehensive.

But then, what is the meaning of the tree in itself? Again meaning disappears unless the tree can flower. The meaning of the tree is in the flowering. When it flowers, yes, there is meaning: the tree has become a mother, the tree has given birth, the tree has become significant. It was not there without any purpose; the flower is the proof. It was there meaningfully, it was there waiting for the flower.

But what is the meaning of the flower in itself unless the fragrance is released to the winds? Once the fragrance is released the flower is meaningful, and so on and so forth.

The meaning is always in a higher state. The meaning is always of the beyond. The meaning is transcendental. If there is nothing beyond man, Sartre is absolutely right: then man is a useless passion running here and there, but doomed to failure. He cannot reach, cannot arrive, because there is nowhere to arrive. He cannot become, because there is no beyond to become. He cannot spread, cannot flower, cannot release the fragrance. If man ends with himself, then man is certainly useless.

But man doesn't end with himself; he is a growth. Man is a becoming, a growing, a continuous transcendence. Friedrich Nietzsche has said, "That day will be the most unfortunate day when man will not aspire to become higher, when man will not aspire to transcend himself. That day will be the most unfortunate when the arrow of man's desire will not be moving higher than man, when there will be no target to reach, when man will be confined, closed in himself. That day will be the most unfortunate day."

It seems the modern man is coming closer and closer to that unfortunate day. That doomsday is coming closer and closer every moment, and Sartre is going to be true if you allow him to be true. If you allow him and you remain a seed and don't sprout, if you allow him and you remain a tree and don't flower, if you allow him and you remain a flower and don't release your fragrance, then, of course, life is hell -- just absurd, not worth living. Then to be born is to be born in misery. Then death is a blessing and life is a curse.

But it is not so; it depends on you whether your life will be meaningful or meaningless. It depends on you. That is the whole point of religion: that meaning is not already given, it has to be created. That meaning is not already transferred to you; only the potentiality, only the possibility, only the opportunity is there. You can flower into a meaningful existence, or you can wither away, useless. Great is the responsibility. If you don't do it, nobody else can do it for you. You cannot rely on servants. Life is so valuable; you cannot rely on anybody else. You will have to take control of the whole situation, and you will have to take the responsibility on your shoulders.

YOU become a man really, the day you become responsible for your growth. You become a man really, the day you decide that you have to create meaning in your life. You are given a blank page: you will have to sign it, and you will have to write your song on it. The song is not already there. You are there; the possibility is there -- but the song has to be sung, the dance has to be danced. The dancer is there, but what is the meaning of a dancer if he has not danced yet? Even to call him a dancer is meaningless, because unless he dances how can you call him a dancer? Unless a seed becomes a tree it is just a name, it is not a seed. And unless a tree flowers it is just a name, it is not a tree. And unless a flower releases its fragrance, it is just a name, it is not yet a flower.

You create your being continuously. And if you don't create, you will be just a driftwood, accidental, moving here and there with no direction.

The Bauls start from the first step. They have a whole vision, a whole perception of all the possibilities of man, of all the rungs of the ladder. The first rung is libido, lust, sex-energy. And sex-energy has continuously puzzled man. If it remains just sex, it will become meaningless. Then you will be in a rut.

SEX is meaningful only when out of lust, love is born. Love is meaningful only when out of love, prayer is born. If your sex remains just sexuality, a circular repetition, a mechanical thing that you go on doing, then you will remain meaningless. Because sex is your energy; it has to be transformed. It is very crude, it is raw material. Much has to be done on it. It is a raw diamond. you have to cut it, you have to polish it, you have to give it a shape and a form. You have to give it beauty. It depends on you. If you go on carrying the raw stone, it is valueless -- not only that, it will be a burden on you. It is better to throw it, better to throw it than to carry it. Why carry it unless something higher can be evolved out of it?

Always remember this: Bauls are not against sex, against lust. But they say that if you remain confined to lust, you will be lost.

NEVER PLUNGE INTO THE RIVER OF LUST,

YOU WILL NOT REACH THE SHORES.

IT IS A RIVER OF NO COASTS

WHERE TYPHOONS RAGE.

What do they mean? -- 'the river of lust, it has no shores, and if you plunge into it you will be lost'. One has to rise above it. It is not that something is wrong in it, remember this point. Don't conclude that Bauls are saying that something is wrong with sex. They are simply saying that the wrong arises when you are confined to it. If you can use it, if you can make a stepping-stone out of it, if you can go higher than it, then it is beautiful. It has been a great help. Without it, it would have been impossible to rise above it.

Lust in itself is like a seed: just pure possibility waiting for the right soil, waiting for the right season, waiting for the gardener, the skillful man who can help it to sprout. A seed is not actual, just potential. There is no necessity for it to become a tree. It may not ever become; it may be lost completely. If you put that seed on a stone, it will remain a seed. Ages can pass and the seed will not sprout. Many people are like that seed: those who have not found their soil yet, who have not found their right season yet. These are the worldly people. A religious person is one whose seed has reached to the right soil, and is disappearing. When the seed disappears, the tree is born. When you disappear, then the soul is born. When the soul disappears, the God is born.

You exist like the hard shell of a seed -- that is the ego of man. The worldly man is the egoistic man; the non-worldly man is the humble man. By 'humble' a very simple thing is meant: he is disappearing as a seed, he is ready to die into the earth. The word 'humble' comes from HUMUS. HUMUS means 'the earth'. The humble man is one who is ready to disappear into the earth. The humble man is one who is ready to lose himself.

Jesus says again and again that if you don't lose yourself you will not regain, if you don't lose yourself you will never be: "Blessed are those who are ready to lose." What does he mean? He means, blessed is the seed that loses its hard shell, becomes vulnerable, opens its soft heart to the soil so the soil can work on it, and moves into the unknown; drops the confinement with the known, drops the commitment with the known, and becomes committed with the unknown. Dangers are there -- storms will be there, clouds and thunder and lightning.

For a small plant the whole world is a crisis, a thousand and one risks. For the seed there is no danger. The seed is closed, windowless. It is in an imprisonment -- protected, well-protected. But a small plant is very fragile. Watch it: a seed is very hard, secure; the plant is fragile and soft, and can be destroyed very easily. And the flower is still more fragile -- as fragile as a dream, as fragile as a poem. And the fragrance is still more fragile -- it almost disappears, becomes indefinable. All growth is towards the unknown, towards the soft, towards the fragile, towards the indefinable.

GROWTH is towards disappearance. Only the gross appears; God is invisible. Only matter appears; mind is invisible. Only the gross can be touched, is tangible, but the subtle is intangible. That's why God cannot be seen -- because God is the fragrance of the flower -- very subtle, very, very subtle.

Remember, with the gross there is more security. Lust is more secure than love; love is more secure than prayer. And if you are looking for security you will remain confined in lust.

Many people are born in sex. Nothing is wrong with that; everybody has to be born in sex. The problem arises when many people live only in sex, and die also in sex. That means that there has been no growth, no evolution. Being born in sex is perfectly natural, but to die in it? Then what is the point? Then what is the meaning of being born? Then you have not grown; then nothing has happened to you.

I was reading about one old man, an old man of almost eighty-five years. He went to his doctor, and he said, "Doctor, I am becoming impotent."

The doctor looked at him and said, "Oh? And when did you first notice this?"

The old man said, "Last night and again this morning."

People live... the longer you live in lust, the uglier becomes your being. And if you have to also die in it, then the whole life was a wastage. You never even went a step further than your birth. Birth is of course natural; it has to be in sex. But death need not be.

I have heard....

Little Sammy was busy doing his homework while waiting with his Mummy in the baby clinic. He turned to his Mum and said, "Mummy, where did I come from?"

She said, "Ach...ah, the stork brought you, darling."

"Where did you come from?"

"Oh, the stork brought me too."

"And where did Grandmamma come from?"

"Why, Grandmamma was found under a gooseberry bush."

So he continued his essay and wrote, "It seems that there has not been a natural birth in our family for three generations!"

To be born in sex is natural; one need not be defensive about it. But to die in sex is unnatural. From sex one should step higher. From the seed to the fragrance is the evolution.

But many people live a repetitive cycle: they go on moving in a routine. They go on doing things, not even aware of what they are doing, not even aware of how many times they have done the same thing, not being aware that it brings nothing. But they go on doing it, not knowing what else to do. They remain occupied in the same circular way. That's why in the East we call it SAMSAR, the wheel. The world is called 'the wheel'. Just as when a wheel goes on moving and the same spokes go on turning up and down, up and down, up and down: if your life is like a wheel and the same spokes go on moving, your life will not have any meaning -- because meaning arises only when you take a step beyond yourself. And remember this too: if you take a step beyond and then you are stuck there, again meaning disappears.

SO meaning is in the new. And if you want to be constantly meaningful, eternally meaningful, then you have to go on growing and growing and growing. If you are stuck anywhere, meaning immediately disappears. Meaning is not in being stuck, meaning is in flow, meaning is in evolving -- so remember it. You can get stuck at love; then again meaning disappears, then again you become stale. Then the river is moving no more. Again you will become dirty; flow is lost. And when the river is flowing it is fresh; when the river is not flowing it becomes stagnant.

The same is true about life.

If you get stuck at love, again flow is lost. Again you are in a rut. Prayer is needed...and there are higher things than prayer. Prayer is the last that can be defined; prayer is the last that can be talked about -- that too, not adequately, but very inadequately. But prayer is the last, the horizon. Not that on the horizon the earth stops; not that on the horizon the sky finishes. The horizon simply shows our limitation: our eyes cannot go beyond it, that's all. Prayer is the horizon of the libido energy, but it is not the end. There are higher things than prayer, but words don't exist for those things. When you reach to prayer then you will know that there are higher things than prayer, and growth is eternal.

People are almost dead because they are stuck. They go on seeking the same thing again and again. Watch it.

One should be in search of the new. The very search renews you, rejuvenates you. If you have some beautiful experience today, don't ask again for it tomorrow because now it is meaningless -- you have known it, it is finished. Ask for something more, seek for something new, grope for the unfamiliar and the unknown. Go beyond it. It was beautiful but don't try to repeat it, because repetition kills beauty. Repetition makes everything boring. And once you become accustomed to boredom you will become dead. Then you will go on revolving.

I have heard....

It was a gay party. Wine, whiskey and wit flowed freely. An obsequious waiter offered a tray with drinks to a solemn, stern-looking man, obviously a clergyman. The Father looked sternly at him and said, "No thanks, I do not drink."

The waiter left, but soon enough another appeared on the scene with a second tray. The God's good man gave him a withering glare. "Don't you know I do not drink at all?" And he added as an afterthought, "I would rather commit adultery than imbibe alcohol.

Mulla Nasrudin, his neighbor, leisurely sipping his scotch, got up with alacrity, put down the glass and exclaimed, "Good heavens, I had no idea there was a choice!"

People are continuously obsessed with sex. And there are two ways to be obsessed with sex: one is the ordinary man's way. But both remain obsessed with lust -- one for, the other against. Their constant fixation is sex; neither goes beyond it.

Bauls don't belong to either category. They don't belong to the worldly man because they go beyond sex. They don't belong to the austere man because they are not against sex. They don't belong to the so-called religious man, the monk, because they say, "Sex is your energy; it has to be used. Of course, it has to be refined, but it has not to be condemned." How can you refine a stone and make a diamond of it if you are condemnatory about it, if you throw it? And if you start escaping from it, how can you refine it, how can you polish it, how can you make a valuable thing out of it? So there are two types of fixations in the world: the people who think sex is life, and the people who think to fight with sex is life -- and both are wrong. To use sex creatively; that is the goal of the Baul.

MULLA NASRUDIN constantly irritated his friends with his eternal optimism. No matter how bad the situation, he would always say, "It could have been worse." To cure him of this annoying habit his friends decided to invent a situation so completely black, so dreadful that even Nasrudin could find no hope in it.

Approaching him at the club bar one day, one of them said, "Mulla, did you hear what happened to George? He went home last night, found his wife in bed with another man, shot them both, then turned the gun on himself."

"Terrible," said the Mulla, "but it could have been worse."

"How in the hell," asked his dumbfounded friend, "could it possibly have been worse?"

"Well," said Nasrudin, "if it had happened the day before, I would be dead now."

People are in a rut, repeating the same again and again and again and again. It seems their eyes are completely closed. It seems they have no idea of what is possible. It seems nobody has given them even a glimpse of the beyond. It seems that they have never looked towards the heights. They have not seen the sky; they go on crawling in the mud. Nothing is wrong essentially in the mud; it is beautiful if you can stand in it, rooted, grounded, and your eyes can move towards the heights. Then the very quality of the mud is transformed.

NEVER PLUNGE INTO THE RIVER OF LUST,

YOU WILL NOT REACH THE SHORES.

IT IS A RIVER OF NO COASTS

WHERE TYPHOONS RAGE.

And you all must have felt that whatsoever you call love brings misery and nothing else: conflict, agony, suffering. Whatsoever you have called love gives you hell and nothing else. But still, somehow you manage to remain in it, you manage not to see beyond it.

It happened: A very wise old man was approached by his son. "Father," said the son, "I want to get married."

"No, my boy. You are not wise enough," said the old man.

"When will I be wise enough?" asked the lad.

The old man said, "When you get rid of the idea that you want to get married, then you will be wise enough, and then you can get married."

IT seems paradoxical; it is true: when you are no longer occupied with sex, when it is no longer an obsession, a neurosis, you are wise enough to go into it -- because then you can use all the possibilities that become available through it. Then it is not just fun; then it is not just passing time; then it is not just a search for oblivion. Then it becomes a creative act on your part. Then you are creating something out of this tremendous energy. It is God's gift. Bauls call it lust -- if you remain confined in it. If you can go beyond it, it starts changing its form, it starts changing its quality.

The Bauls sing,

Plough-man, are you out of your wits

not to take care

of your own land?

A squadron of six birds

is picking at the rice,

grown golden and ripe,

in the field of your limbs.

Farming the splendid

measured land

of this human body,

you raise the crop,

the devotion to God.

But passions eat at it

like sparrows.

The fence of consciousness

is down to dust,

leaving open gaps.

Cattle clamber up

and feast on your harvest....

Shame to you,

my shameless heart,

what now can I say?

You have gathered a piece of glass

at the price of gold.

In spite of a pair of eyes

you miss the valuable jewels,

caring only for artificial stones.

Wandering blindfolded,

you could not see

that the house overflowed

with the choicest rubies,

and diamonds,

and gems of fire.

Hugging a sickle

in your waistband,

what do you search

from field to field?

What is the use?

My heart,

will you not explode for once

the home of beauty...?

Whatsoever you go on seeking in the mechanical ways of sexuality is not the search for beauty. It is not the search of love, it is not the search of God. At the most, it is a natural device, a biological device to drown yourself in forgetfulness. It is a natural arrangement in your body: you can drown yourself in it. It can become your alcohol, it can become your drug, it can become your acid.

Sex is chemical; it releases certain hormones in your body. It gives you a certain illusory euphoria. It gives you a few moments when you feel at the top of the world. But then again you are back in the valley, and the valley is darker than before, and the valley is uglier than before -- as if you have been tricked, cheated. Sex gives you an illusion as if something is happening. If you remain confined to sex, then you will simply waste your energy. By and by, the energy will ooze out of you, and you will remain just a dead shell.

The Bauls say,

What color is your cottage?

On the shore of this bogus world

the frame of your home is made of bones,

and the roof is thatched with skin.

But the pair of peacocks

on the landing pier

hardly know that they will end one day.

As the childhood passed in play,

passion, the age of passionate sport passes.

The old age, too, is going away,

calling, calling

for the Master and the Lord.

Your teeth are dropping down,

and the hair is growing gray,

the age of manhood is at a low ebb,

the plaster of your painted house will be

crumbling now

softly, softly....

The energy oozes out, by and by. Very few are in the world who use this tremendous opportunity for growth. Watch your steps. You are given a certain opportunity to grow. If you don't grow you will simply waste; life will be just a vegetation. You cannot call yourself alive if you are not aware. If awareness is not crystallized in you, you are fast asleep, in a stupor -- a somnambulist, a sleepwalker. And sex is one of the great tranquilizers. Many people use it exactly like a tranquilizer: they make love and then they go to sleep. Then they sleep better. Energy released, empty, they fall into deep stupor. That sleep is not real sleep -- it is just exhaustion, it is just emptiness. It is not full of energy. That sleep is like death, not like life.

The ways of the tortuous river

slip from your grasp.

Beware, brothers,

do not step into the stream.

The water rushes down,

wrecking the blackened hills.

Brothers, beware

of the tortuous stream.

The river was dry

when the waters of the flood

surged down the tortuous stream.

How can we cross the river now?

Even when you are silent and not preoccupied with sex, it is very difficult to cross the river. Even when the river is not flooded, even when the river is a summer stream -- very thin, very small, very shallow -- then too it is difficult to pass and go beyond it. And when the rains come and the river is flooded and when you are so full of lust, it becomes impossible to cross it.

The river was dry

when the waters of the flood

surged down the tortuous stream.

How can we cross the river now?

Be on your guard,

O boatman,

and hold tight to the oars,

and if the boat tends to turn over,

remember the Master.

BAULS say that there is only one way to come out of the stupor man lives in, and that is remembrance of God: NAM-SMARAN, remembrance of His name. That has always been part of the basic techniques on the path of love -- to remember Him. And when a devotee, with deep reverence, remembers the name of God, his whole being is thrilled, his energy starts rushing upwards. Ordinarily the energy is rushing downwards; that is the way of sex. If you really cry the name of God, whatsoever it is -- Ram, Allah, or whatsoever, all names are His -- the very cry, the very remembrance hits somewhere near the SAHASRAR, the seventh chakra, in the head. If remembrance is not just ritual, if with deep love and reverence and devotion and surrender you have called the name of God, suddenly there comes a change in your body energies. The energy that was going to the sex center starts rising high.

The Bauls say,

God has reversed

the acts of the play.

The land talks in paradox

and the flowers devour the heads of fruits,

and the gentle vine, roaring,

strangles the tree.

The moon rises in the day,

and the sun at night with shining rays.

The blood is white,

and on the lake of blood

float a pair of swans,

copulating continuously

in a jungle of lust and love.

All the great mystics have described it: when the energies start rushing upwards, when gravitation no longer affects your energy, when your energy is functioning under another Law, the law of grace; when you are pulled up, when you are falling up, when you are rushing upwards as if the sky is pulling you, then man comes to know a totally different world. Everything is upside-down -- or maybe it is really rightside-up -- but everything changes.

Kabir has said that when it happened to him, he saw the ocean burning, and the fire very cold. He saw fishes running on dry land, and he saw trees whose roots were in the sky and whose branches were coming to the earth. These are just symbolic sayings.

EVERYTHING we had known while sex-energy was running downwards is affected by it. When the sex-energy rushes up, a TOTALLY different world is revealed. Then you don't see this world because your eyes are no more the same. You are in a new dimension, just diametrically opposite to the old.

But ordinarily our whole concept of life is centered on sex. Whatsoever we do: we earn money, we earn money for sex; we try to earn fame, but we earn fame for sex. Even sometimes very innocent activities which you cannot connect with sex are connected with sex if the person is still infatuated with lust. It is difficult to see how a person who is running after fame is running after sex.

Ask the psychologists. They say women are more attracted by fame than by anything else. They are not so attracted by the face, handsomeness, as they are attracted by achievement. An achiever, one who has much money, power, prestige, is more attractive to women than anybody else,. because a woman is constantly in search of somebody to lean upon. You may be beautiful, but if you have no power you cannot give any guarantee and security to the woman. If you are powerful, maybe you are not beautiful, you are not intelligent, but that doesn't matter. But it you are powerful, reliable, the woman can lean on your shoulders. There is a certain guarantee in you.

Men are attracted by physical proportions, body-beauty; a woman is more attracted by fame, prestige, power, achievement. So if men are too mad after power, the arithmetic is simple. Even in the face of death or in the face of danger people go on lusting.

Jeevan has sent me a beautiful joke.

Isador Ginsberg was instructed by his physician to take a holiday after years of hard work building up his clothing business. On his holiday he met a young blonde who spent much time with him. Returning to his office, he felt and looked like a new person; love had entered his life.

A few weeks later a distinguished gentleman asked to see Mr. Isador Ginsberg alone. Smilingly, excitedly, Isador read the card handed to him. His caller was attorney-at-law of a very reputable law firm.

"I represent Miss Mamie Lottery. You remember her, from Hotel Carleton?"

"Yes, yes," Isador panted excitedly.

"Well, Mr. Ginsberg, what do you think of these?" And he lays out on the desk a number of photographs of Isador and Mamie in decidedly compromising positions.

Isador was absolutely flabbergasted. He stared wide-eyed at each of the pictures in turn. Many minutes of silence gripped the air. Finally he turned to the lawyer and said with a firm order in his voice, "Well, I will take two of this, three of that one, and four copies of each of the other pictures."

THE grip of lust is such that you cannot see the danger ahead. The grip of lust is such that you cannot even see death ahead. In fact, a very strange phenomenon happens: the more a person comes close to his death, the more lustful he becomes. Because sex gives a feeling of life, one clings more to sexuality. Old people may not be physically able to move into sexuality, but then they start moving in their fantasies. It almost always happens.

I have watched many people die. It rarely happens that a person dies with God on his mind. Almost always, nine out of ten people die with sex on their minds when they die, and that becomes the beginning of another life. Sex on the mind becomes the beginning of another sex life.

But it has to be so if you have not been working hard to go beyond it, to go beyond its grip. If you have not been struggling hard to release yourself from its clutches, then it is going to be so -- because at the moment of death you start thinking more of sex, because sex seems to be just the opposite of death. Sex is birth; mind fantasizes about sex. And when the last moment has come when the body is going to disappear, a bout of energy, the last bout, streams into your head, overpowers you. If you die with sex on the mind, you will be moving again into the wheel of life, what the Hindus call ANAGAMIN, coming and going, coming and going; a repetitious circle.

GO TO THE HOME OF BEAUTY AND FORM,

SHOULD YOU WISH TO SEE THE MAN WITHIN.

The Bauls say, "Go to the home of beauty and form, should you wish to see the man within." Love is more aesthetic; lust is almost non-aesthetic. Lust is ugly, and you can observe it. When somebody looks at you with lust in his eyes, have you watched the face? -- it becomes ugly. Even a beautiful face becomes ugly when lust is there in the eyes. And just the opposite also happens: even an ugly face becomes beautiful when there is love in the eyes. Love in the eyes gives a totally different color to the face; a different aura arises. Lust gives a black aura, a very evilish aura around you. To look at somebody with lust is ugly. It is not the search for beauty.

One of the greatest Indian poets, Rabindranath, has said that, "Beauty is truth," and he is right. And he was very impressed by the Bauls. In fact, he was the first man to introduce Bauls to the West; he was the first man to translate a few Baul poems into English. He was a sort of Baul himself: he says, "Beauty is truth." If you seek beauty you will become truthful. The more aesthetic you become, the more sensitive you become towards beauty, the more balanced and harmonious you will become -- because finally, beauty belongs to God.

LET me explain it to you.

You see a woman: if you see with lustful eyes, you see only the body, the matter, the matter part; if you see with love, you see something that is not matter, that is spiritual; and if you see a woman with prayer, then you see something absolutely divine. It depends on your eyes. With lustful eyes you see only the body part of the woman; with loveful eyes you see the spiritual part of the woman; with prayerful eyes you see the divine, God himself. Wherever your sensitivity towards beauty is perfect, the divine is revealed.

GO TO THE HOME OF BEAUTY AND FORM,

SHOULD YOU WISH TO SEE THE MAN WITHIN.

HIS WAYS CROSS THE SPHERE

WHERE LIFE LIVES WITH DEATH,

AND SENSE WITH INSANITY.

"His ways cross the sphere where life lives with death, and sense with insanity..."

God's ways are paradoxical. The Bauls say that in God all the opposites meet, all the polarities become one. In God, death and life are not two things. In God, darkness and light are not two things. In God, the beginning and the end are not two things. God means the totality; God comprehends all. So when you reach towards God you will not be losing anything, you will be simply gaining all. In the beginning it may appear that you are losing something, but God is all-inclusive. Lust remains in God, of course, but absolutely transformed. Matter remains in God, but becomes sacred, is holy. One remains in the world but no more of it. God Himself is in the world, but not of the world. The world belongs to Him but He does not belong to the world.

This polarity has to be understood. The Bauls' God is a greater God than the Christian God, the Jewish God or the Mohammedan God, because those Gods are of the theologians. The Bauls' God is more poetic; those Gods are more logical. The Bauls' God is more illogical, but more true. Christians say, "God is only good." The very word 'God' is derived from the root 'good'. God is good; then what happens to bad? Then where does the bad exist? To explain that they have to create a devil. But the Bauls laugh about such theoretical cunningness. They say that God creates the devil, so He remains the creator of the devil. And if you say the devil has gone against God, then there are only two possibilities: one, that God is not omnipotent, and the devil can go against Him -- then God is not all-powerful; the other, that God Himself provokes him to go against -- then He is all-powerful, but then He is the cause of the devil.

Bauls say that God is both, and when they say God is both, they mean that God is incomprehensible, He is paradoxical. God is all. In Him, everything is transfigured, all opposites become a harmony. God is the orchestra. He is one in the many. He's the unity of all.

HIS WAYS CROSS THE SPHERE

WHERE LIFE LIVES WITH DEATH,

AND SENSE WITH INSANITY.

Bauls say, "He is the supermost reason and the supermost irreason also." They say that God is reason and God is madness also. For a logical mind it becomes difficult to figure out. But Bauls say life is not of logic. The Bauls say, "We are simply describing what is the case. We are not saying what should be, we are simply describing what is the case. This is the way we have known God: He is very rational and very irrational, both. He is infinite compassion and infinite justice, both. In Him, all the polarities have become one."

To understand this, one has to understand with one's totality. You cannot understand this assertion, this statement, through your intellect. Then it looks absurd. But watch... Look at life: all that is alive must be somehow His, and all that dies must be somehow dying in Him. Yes, He lives in very reasonable people, but who lives in mad people then? In mad people also He lives, and He loves all ways.

SO Bauls say, "Don't be afraid; you just be yourself and you will find Him. You need not become somebody else to find Him. You just be yourself. If you are mad, then just be mad; then that is your way to find Him. If you are a singer, then go on singing. He's all-inclusive; your singing will become a prayer and a way. If you cannot sing, don't be worried; there is no need. If you feel that just being silent and sitting silently you enjoy your being perfectly, then that is your way. All ways are His. Bauls say, "Wherever you are, from wherever you travel, you travel towards Him. Just don't get stuck; go on travelling. Go on moving, don't allow movement to die. Wherever you are stuck, then the distance arises. Just go on moving and be yourself." They don't give you a certain morality; they don't give you a certain ideal; they don't give you any shoulds. They are not worried about the ought. They say, "This is the case -- He loves all as they are." Just you go on moving, don't get frozen.

CLOSE YOUR EYES AND TRY TO CATCH HIM,

HE IS SLIPPING BY.

Beautiful..."Close your eyes and try to catch Him, He's slipping by." If you are stuck somewhere you will miss Him. You be on the move because He is on the move. He's always slipping, He's always moving into the new and into the unknown. If you cling with the known you will miss Him. Close your eyes and watch how swiftly He moves, how dancingly He moves. He is continuously slipping out of the old. He is the constantly new. He is like the snake who comes out of his old skin, leaves the old skin and slips by. God is continuously slipping out of history, because He is eternity. God is continuously slipping out of that which has already happened, because He is not repetitive. And if you are clinging to history then you will miss Him, because then you will be looking at the past and He is always moving into the future. God is future and mind is past; then the distance arises.

A real religious man is one who has no past, who has no autobiography, who is continuously new, each moment slipping with God. He does not bother; what has happened has happened -- finished! Put a full stop on it, and never look back. Go on...He is always calling you ahead, and ahead. He is always persuading you to move into new territories of being: from lust to love, from love to prayer -- and there are higher realms than prayer. And He is constantly on the move. If you follow Him, the only way is to be constantly on the move.

Be a river.

Yes, they are right...

CLOSE YOUR EYES AND TRY TO CATCH HIM,

HE IS SLIPPING BY.

Why close your eyes? -- because in the beginning it will be difficult to see Him from without. There are so many forms, you may get lost. There is so much all around, so complicated is the world that you may get lost. Start from the simple -- start from yourself. Close your eyes; then there is only one -- you! It is simple to become acquainted that way. Close your eyes and see Him; He is continuously slipping by. It is your consciousness, the essential man. The Bauls call him the ADHAR MANUSH. He is in you, in your essence, but He is continuously slipping by, going ahead. That's how He evolves.

God is evolution and God is revolution also, because sometimes He moves slowly, and sometimes He moves very fast. One has to be very alert to keep pace with Him. If you lose your alertness, He is gone. Then one never knows when one will come across Him again. One moment lost in unawareness and He will be at the farthest end of the world. One has to remain constantly alert, aware.

But first watch Him inside. Not that He's not outside; He's there also -- because all is His, within and without. But first it is easier to understand Him within yourself. Once seen there, you will be able to see Him everywhere. Once understood there, open your eyes, and He is standing all around you: in the trees, in the birds, in the man, in the woman, in the rocks, in the rivers, in the mountains, in the clouds. But first, get introduced to Him. And the best introduction, and the easiest possible, is to close your eyes and look, watch there. You will find the snake always moving and leaving its old skin. This is the flow of life-energy.

The Bauls' God is not a dead, stagnant concept. It is not a God sitting somewhere on a golden throne in the seventh heaven. The Bauls' God is a very alive God, kicking in you, streaming in you. The Bauls' God is nothing but a synonym for life. LIFE written with capital letters is what the Bauls' God is all about.

The Bauls say,

My heart is saturated,

but I wish I knew with what --

joy or death.

Strange is the feeling when you become acquainted with God: you cannot say what it is, you cannot describe it. It is so contradictory, so paradoxical.

My heart is saturated,

but I wish I knew with what --

joy or death.

He is both: death and resurrection, cross and rebirth.

A sense of wonder

has overtaken all.

Where is that ocean

and where are the rivers?

And yet still

the waves are there for you to observe,

only if you unite

your eyes with your heart.

That is the meaning of 'close your eyes' -- so that you can bring your heart and your eyes parallel, united. Only if you unite your eyes with your heart, then suddenly you will see the God of all paradoxes, the mad and the source of all reason, life and the source of all death.

The Bauls say,

There is no patience

in the core of my heart.

Shivering with tears

it cries with the eyes,

and in the silence

of lovely sound forever calls,

Come Beloved, come,

come, please come!

The Bauls' path is not the path of the austere man, of the monk, no. It is the path of the dancer, the singer, the aesthetic man. His prayer is full of beauty, and God is not a concept of philosophy, but Beloved.

Free impulses live together

with the forces of abstinence,

and the feminine energy

entwined with the spirit of man,

resembles the tuned strings

of the lute, wholly invisible.

The heart is the home

of no separation.

When you reach deep within yourself, when you touch your own core, your heart, you have come to the land of no separation. There, not only are you with God, you are one with Him -- because you are also part of Him. It is He who has expressed Himself like you. Feel fortunate, feel blessed; He has also chosen you to be one of His forms.

CLOSE YOUR EYES AND TRY TO CATCH HIM,

HE IS SLIPPING BY.

 

Next: Chapter 4, Remember To Stop In The Middle, First Question

 

Energy Enhancement          Enlightened Texts         Baul Mystics           The Beloved

 

 

 
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