We have gathered here to do nothing but experience that state where we simply exist – where no action takes place, where there is no impurity of action. It is a state where only the pure flame of being remains, where only the self remains, where even the thought that “I am” no longer remains, where simply “am-ness” remains. This is shunya, emptiness. This is the point where we see not the world, but truth. It is in this void, in this emptiness, where the wall that keeps you from knowing your self topples, where the curtains of thought rise and wisdom dawns. In this void there is no thinking, there is knowing. Here there is seeing; here there is vision.
But the words vision and seeing are also not appropriate because here there is no distinction between the knower and the known, no distinction between the subject and the object. Here there is neither the known nor the knower – simply the knowing. In this context no word is appropriate, only wordlessness. If anyone asks me about this state I remain silent – or I could say I convey my answer through my silence.
Meditation is non-doing. Doing is something we may do if we want to or may not do if we don’t want to. But self-nature is not a doing. It is neither doing nor non-doing. For example, knowing and seeing are parts of our self-nature, parts of our being. Even if we don’t do anything they will still be there. Self-nature is constantly present in us. Only that which is constant and continuous in us is called self-nature. Self-nature is not something of our creation, it is our foundation. We are it. We do not create it, we are sustained by it. Hence, we call it dharma, that which sustains. Dharma means self-nature; dharma means pure isness, existence.
This continuous nature of ours becomes suppressed in our fragmentary stream of actions. Just as the ocean becomes covered by waves and the sun by clouds, we become covered by our own actions. The layer of activities on the surface hides that which is deep inside. Insignificant waves hide the ocean’s unfathomable depths. How strange it is that the mighty is suppressed by the trivial, that a speck in the eye makes mountains invisible! But the ocean does not cease to exist because of the waves. It is the very life of the waves and is present in them as well. Those who know will even recognize the ocean in the waves, but those who do not know must wait until the waves subside. They can only see the ocean after the waves disperse.
We have to dive into this very self-nature. We have to forget about the waves and jump into the ocean. We have to know our own depths where there is isness, where there is ocean without waves, where there is being, not becoming.
This world of waveless and motionless knowing is always present in us, but we are not present to it. We have turned away from it – we are looking outside, we are looking at things, we are looking at the world. But bear one thing in mind: we are looking; what is seen is the world, but the one who is seeing is not the world, it is the self.
If seeing is identified with the object that is seen, it is thought; if seeing is free from the object that is seen and turns toward the seer, it is meditation. Do you follow my distinction between thought and meditation? Seeing is present in both thought and meditation but in the former it is objective and in the latter it is subjective. But whether we are in thought or in meditation, whether we are in action or in no-action, seeing is a constant factor. Awake, we see the world; asleep, we see dreams; in meditation, we see ourselves – but in each of these conditions there is seeing. Seeing is constant and continuous. It is our nature. It is never absent no matter what the condition.
Seeing is even present in unconsciousness. After regaining consciousness one says, “I don’t remember anything, I don’t know where I was.” Do not think that this is a not-knowing. This is also knowing. If seeing had been totally absent, then this knowing that “I don’t know where I was” would not have been possible either. If that were the case, then the time that passed by while you were unconscious would have become nonexistent for you. In no way would it have remained a part of your life; it could not have left any trace on your memory. But you know you were in some state where you were not aware of any knowing. This too is a knowing; seeing is also present here. The memory has not recorded any internal or external phenomena happening during this period, but your seeing has definitely noted, has definitely experienced this gap, this interval. And this experience of the interval, of the gap in the recording of events, later becomes known to the memory as well. Similarly, during deep sleep when there are not even dreams, seeing is always present. When we wake up in the morning we are able to say we had such a sound sleep that we did not even dream. This condition too has been observed.
You must realize from all of this that situations change, that the object, the content for the consciousness changes, but that seeing does not change. Everything in the realm of our experience changes; all things are in a flux, seeing and seeing alone is ever-present. That alone is the witness to all this change, to all this flow. To realize this ever-present and eternal seeing is to know one’s self. That alone is one’s self-nature. All else is alien, the other. All else is sansara, the world.
This witness cannot be attained or realized by any doing, by any kind of worship or adoration, by any mantra or technique, because it is the witness of all those things as well. It is separate and apart from all those things. It is separate and different from all that can be seen or done. It cannot be realized by doing but by non-doing; not by action but by emptiness. It will be realized only when there is no activity, when there is no object to be seen, when only the witness remains, when only seeing remains.
When there is seeing but nothing to be seen, when there is knowing but nothing to be known, then in this contentless consciousness the knower of all is known. When there is no object to be seen, the curtain in front of the seer drops away, and when there is no object to be known, knowing emerges. When there are no waves, the ocean is seen; when there are no clouds, the blue sky is seen.
This ocean and this sky, this empty space is there within everyone and if we wish to know this sky, this space, we can. There is a path that leads there and that too is present within us all. And each one also knows how to walk on this path. But we know how to walk on it in only one direction. Have you ever thought of the fact that there can be no path that leads in one direction only? Each path inevitably goes in two directions, in two opposite directions. Otherwise it is not a path; it cannot exist. The path that has brought you here to the seclusion of these hills is the same path that will take you back. There is only one path for coming as well as for going. The same path will serve both purposes. The path will be the same but the direction will not be the same.
The path to sansara, the world, and the path to the self is one and the same. The same path leads either to sansara or to the self: only the direction changes. What has been in front of you so far will now be behind you and you will have to direct your attention to what was at your back. The road is the same, you must simply turn, do an about-face. You must turn your back on what you were facing and face that which was behind you.
Ask yourself where you are facing now. What are you seeing now? In what direction is the current of your vision, of your consciousness flowing? Experience it. Observe it. You will find it is flowing outwardly. All your thoughts are about the outer. All the time you are thinking about the outer, about the world outside. When your eyes are open you see the outside. When you close them you still see the outside because the imprints of the outside forms and images surround you once again. There is a world of objects outside you; there is another world inside you, a world of thoughts – the echo of these outer things. Although it is found inside, this world of thoughts is still the outer because the “I” as a witness is also apart from it. Your “I” sees it as well, so therefore this world of thoughts is also outside.
We are surrounded by things and by thoughts. But on looking more deeply, you will find that it is not being encircled by things that hinders us on the path of self-realization, it is being encircled by thoughts. In the first place, how can things encircle the soul – matter can only encircle matter. Thoughts encircle the soul. The current of seeing, of consciousness, is flowing toward thoughts. Thoughts and thoughts alone are in front of us; our entire seeing is veiled by them.
We have to turn from thoughts toward thoughtlessness. This change of direction is the revolution! How can it be done? First we must know