The second question:

Question 2

WHAT MOTIVATES A BUDDHA?

The question is absurd, because a Buddha becomes a Buddha only when all motivation has left, when all desires have disappeared. A Buddha becomes a Buddha only because he now has nothing to do, nothing to desire, nowhere to go, no achievement. The achieving mind disappears -- then one becomes a Buddha. So if you ask, "What motivates a Buddha?" you are asking an absurd question. Nothing can motivate him; that's why he is a Buddha.

Siddhartha Gautama became enlightened. The story goes that a Brahmin was passing by. He had never seen such a beautiful person. Something unearthly was surrounding Buddha sitting under his tree; he was luminous, a tremendous peace. The Brahmin could not go. He was in a hurry, he had to reach somewhere; but the silence of Buddha pulled him. He forgot where he was going, he forgot his motivation. Being close to this man who had attained to the state of no motivation, he was pulled into his whirlpool. Enchanted, he remained there, the story says, for hours. Then suddenly he became aware; what was he doing there? Then he suddenly became aware that he was going somewhere, but where? Then he asked, "Who am I" -- as if the whole identity, the whole past had somewhere disappeared. He could not bring who he was to his consciousness. Then he shook Buddha and he said, "What have you done to me? I have completely forgotten where I was going, and from where I was coming, and who I am. Now who am I going to ask? Who will answer this? And I am a stranger to this part of the country. You tell me what you have done!" Buddha opened his eyes and he said, "I have not done anything. I have stopped doing. Maybe because of it, maybe just being close to me... you don't be worried. You run away from me fast." The man said, "Before I go, one thing I have to ask: are you a God?" He had heard, he was a learned Brahmin. He had recited the Vedas every day as part of ritual, daily ritual. He had heard about Krishna and Ram, but they had remained just stories. For the first time somebody seemed to be there -- solid, real, earthly, and still divine: "Are you a God?" Buddha said, "No." The man said, "Are you a saint, an ARHAT?" -- because the man understood. In India Jains don't believe in God, so when somebody attains to the perfect, ultimate truth, he is called an arhat: one who has arrived; the sage, the saint. So first he asked, "Are you a God?" He asked a question in the terminology of the Hindus, and Buddha said, "No." Then he thought, "Maybe he belongs to the other tradition of the Indians, the tradition of the shramanas who don't believe in God." He asked, "Are you an arhat, a sage, a saint?" and Buddha said, "No." Then he was puzzled because these were the only two languages possible. Then he said, "Then who are you?" Buddha said, "I am aware." It is not very grammatical, but true. He said, "I am aware." He simply indicated the quality of his being at that moment -- awareness -- not God, not saint. Because when you say 'God', it seems something is static. When you say 'saint', it seems something is complete, static, has become a thing. Buddha said, "I am aware." Or, an even better translation: he said, "I am awareness" -- no identity, just a dynamic energy of being aware. In awareness, in such awareness there is no motivation; and if there is motivation, there is no awareness.

Let me tell you one anecdote, a very beautiful one. Listen to it as deeply as possible.

The lady and her small son were swimming in the surf, and there was a very heavy undertow. She was holding her son tightly by the hand and they were splashing around happily, when a huge wall of water loomed up ahead of them. As they watched in horror, this tidal wave rose higher and higher directly in front of them, and crashed over them. When the water receded, the little boy was nowhere to be found. Panic-stricken, the mother searched in the water screaming, "Melvyn, Melvyn, where are you? Melvyn!" When it was obvious the child was lost, washed out to the sea, the distraught mother lifted her eyes to heaven and prayed, "Oh, dear and merciful Father, please take pity on me and return my beautiful child. I will promise eternal gratitude to you. I promise I will never cheat on my husband again; I will never cheat on my income tax again; I will be kind to my mother-in-law; I will give up smoking; anything! Anything, only please grant me this one favor and return my son."

Just then, another wall of water loomed up and crashed over her head. When the water receded, there was her small son standing there. She clasped him to her bosom, kissed him, clung to him. Then she looked at him a moment, and once again turned her eyes heavenward. Looking up, she said, "But he had a hat."

This is the mind: the son is back but the hat is lost. Now she was not happy because the son was back, but unhappy because the hat was lost -- again complaining.

Have you watched this happening inside your mind, or not? It is always happening. Whatsoever life gives to you, you are not thankful for it. You are again and again complaining about the hat. You always go on seeing that which has not happened, not that which has already happened. You always look and desire and expect, but you are never grateful. Millions of things are happening to you, but you are never grateful. You always remain grumpy, complaining, and you are always in a state of frustration. Even if you reach to heaven, this mind will not allow you to live there. You will create a hell wherever you are: so much desire that one desire is fulfilled, ten desires arise out of it; and it never comes to an end.

By desiring, no one has ever attained to the state of peace, the state of non-desire. By understanding the desire, by understanding the motivation, one becomes, by and by, alert. One comes to know that if you drop motivation, there is no frustration in life. Then nothing can make you unhappy. Then happiness is natural; it is just the way you are. Then whatsoever happens, you remain happy. Now, whatsoever happens, you remain unhappy.

A Buddha has no motivation; that's why he's happy. He's so happy that if you ask him, "Are you happy?" he will shrug his shoulders -- because how to know? Happiness can be known only in contrast to unhappiness. He has forgotten the very experience of unhappiness, so if you ask him, "Are you happy?" he may keep quiet. He may not say anything. Because when unhappiness disappeared, with it disappeared that dichotomy also. That's why Buddha has not said that the ultimate state is that of bliss. No, he says it is of peace, but not of bliss.

That is one of the differences between Hindus and Buddhists, between Patanjali and Buddha. That is one of the basic differences. And of course, both are right; these things are such when you talk about the ultimate, if you know about it. So whatsoever you say, howsoever contradictory it appears, it is always right. Patanjali says that it is a state of bliss because all misery, all possibility of misery has disappeared. Of course, he is right. Buddha says, "It is not even bliss, because who will know and how will you know that it is blissful? When all misery has disappeared, there is no contrast, there is no way to know it." If nights disappear completely, how will you know that this is day? It will be day, but how will you know it is day? Buddha is also right: it will be bliss, but it cannot be called bliss because to say so, you bring unhappiness in.

One becomes a Buddha when one has understood the mechanism of all motivation. What is motivation? -- it is a discontent in the present, an uneasiness in the present, and a hope in the future. Motivation is a discontent here-now, and a dream of contentment somewhere in the future.

You live in a small house: you are unhappy with this small house, discontented here-now, and you hope for a bigger house in the future. Future is needed; right now the big house is not possible. Time will be needed to make, to earn money, to do a thousand and one things, to compete. Then, the big house will be possible. So right now you are in discontent, but in future you have a dream of contentment. You work hard. Then the big house becomes possible one day, but suddenly you see nothing like contentment is happening to you. The moment the big house becomes available, you start thinking of bigger houses. You have become addicted to motivation. Now you cannot live without motivation. Again in the big house, you are unhappy. Again you are hoping: "Someday, some palace, somewhere" -- and this is how one goes on wasting one's whole life.

Understand the mechanism of motivation. It gives you a dream in the future -- and a dream is a dream -- and it takes all blissfulness from the present. For something unreal, it destroys that which is real. Once you understand, you stop living through motivation. Then you live simply without motivation.

What is without, what is living without motivation? -- living in deep contentment here and now, and not bothering for the tomorrow.

Says Jesus, "Think not of the morrow. Look at the lillies of the field. Even King Solomon was not so beautiful in all his grandeur. Look at the lilies in the field; they don't think of the morrow. They are just here and now. They are with God here and now. They don't have any future; they don't carry the past. This moment is all."

A mind which has dropped motivation is no more a mind. Once you drop motivation, you have become part of the eternal reality which is always now, always here. And then you are contented. Out of your contentment, more contentment arises; bigger and bigger waves of contentment arise. Out of your discontent, more and more discontent arises.

So look... this moment you can move into the world of motivation in which you are already moving -- the competition, the market-place -- or, you can move in the world of non-motivation. At each step the paths bifurcate. If you drop motivation, you decide to be happy right this moment and you say, "Let the future take its own care. Now I will be here and now, and that's all, and I don't ask more. I will enjoy that which is already given to me." And more than enough is given to you already.

I have never seen a man who is not rich in life, but it is very difficult to find a rich man -- all are beggars. And I tell you, nobody need be a beggar. Life has given so many riches to you already, that if you know how to enjoy them you will not ask more. You will say, "Even this much I cannot enjoy. This is too much already. I cannot hold it. My hands are too small, my heart is so small; I cannot hold it! You have given me so much dance, and so much song, and so much blissfulness. More I cannot ask. Even to exhaust this is not possible."

To live here-now is to be religious. To live here-now is to live without mind. To live here-now is to become a Buddha. That's what he said: "I am aware." Because Gods are also motivated, they are also chasing women -- maybe better women on some higher plane, but chasing women. They are competitive with each other.

Hindus are tremendously beautiful about this. They have not shrunk back about anything. If you listen to God's stories in Hindu puranas, you will be tremendously surprised: they are almost human. They are doing all the same things that you are doing -- maybe in a little better way, or maybe on a little higher plane. The head, the chief God is called Indra. He is the King of Gods. And he is always afraid -- as kings always are -- and his throne is always shaking because somebody is always pulling his legs. You can go to Delhi and ask people. Whenever you are on a throne somebody is pulling, many are pulling in fact, because they also want to be on the throne. Indra is continuously trembling. I think, by now, trembling must have become a habit to him. Whether anybody is pulling or not, he must be trembling. For centuries he has been trembling. Stories say that whenever some ascetic, some saint on the earth starts achieving higher planes of being, he starts feeling afraid. His throne starts shaking; somebody is trying to be competitive with him. Somebody is trying to become a king of Gods. Immediately he sends beautiful damsels, apsaras, to destroy that poor ascetic. They dance a beautiful, sexual dance around him; they seduce the poor ascetic. And then Indra sleeps well: now one competitor is destroyed.

In the Hindu heaven the paths are studded with diamonds, and the trees are of gold, and flowers are of silver and jade and jewels -- but the same world. Women are very beautiful there -- but the same world, the same lust, the same desire. Hindus say, "Even Gods will have to be reborn on earth when their virtue is finished, when they have enjoyed their punya, their virtue."

This word 'punya' is very good. 'Poona' comes out of punya. It means: the city of virtue. Those Gods are as worldly as this world. They will have to come back once their punya, their virtue, is finished. Once they have enjoyed then they have to come back to the earth, to crawl again.

Buddha says, "No, I am not a God, because I have no motivation." "Are you a saint, an ARHATA?" Buddha says, "No, because even a saint has a certain motivation to achieve liberation" -- how to achieve moksha, how to go beyond the world, how to become desireless. But still, the desire is there. Now the desire is of becoming desireless. Motivation can be of becoming motiveless: how to achieve a state of non-motivation -- that can become a motivation. But it is all the same; you are again in the same trap.

Buddha says, "No, I am aware." In awareness, motivation does not arise. So whenever motivation arises, a desire arises. Don't do anything. Just be aware, and you will see the desire is receding back, disappearing. It evaporates. When the sun of awareness arises, desires evaporate like dew-drops in the morning.