Chapter 17: Buddhas Are Trying to Be Buddhas
You know, Jesus had the same fallacy. He needed a Rabiya al-Adabiya. His statement is, “Knock and the door shall be opened unto you. Ask and you shall be answered. Seek and you shall find.” Rabiya would have given him good slaps, “What kind of nonsense are you involved in? The doors are open, there is no need to knock. Just enter.”
Once you have entered, questions and answers all disappear. And once you have entered, you have found what was always yours; there is no question of searching and finding.
If you go on allowing yourself, relaxing in these silent moments, in these gaps which are really the doors, much, so much is going to happen. What has happened to you is just the beginning. But you are caught. You cannot go back; you have to explore what is ahead. What did you have in the past except misery, agony, anxiety, anguish, fear? - all kinds of dark forces. You don’t have anything in your past. Realize it with totality, so that you can move when a new door opens. And every day, to someone or other, the window opens - or to many sometimes.
And finally you are asking, “Also, is there an Australian joke?” Never heard of it. Jokes need a little intelligence. That land of kangaroos is itself a joke! But I inquired to all my Australian sannyasins - many are here - “Manage something. Create, be inventive.” Many jokes came - just wishy-washy. Just one joke I liked.
Swampy Marsh, the young Australian father-to-be, is waiting anxiously outside the maternity ward where his wife is having their first baby.
He is pacing the floor when the nurse comes out and says, “You have a little boy, Mr. Marsh, but you had better go and have a cup of coffee, because there might be another one.”
Swampy turns a little pale and leaves. Some time later he phones the hospital and is told that he is the father of twins, but the nurse cautions, “There is another on the way, so call back later.”
At that Swampy decides that coffee is not strong enough so he goes to a bar and has some beer. When he phones the hospital again he is told that the third baby has arrived and a fourth is on the way. White-faced, he stumbles to the bar and orders a double scotch.
Twenty minutes later, he tries to phone again, but he is so drunk that he dials the wrong number and gets the recorded cricket score. When they pick him off the floor the recording is still going strong:
“The score is ninety-six all out,” says the voice, “and the last one was a duck.”