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Chapter 6: The Bridge of Love and Laughter

The first question.

What is creativity?

Action is not creativity, inaction also is not creativity. Creativity is a very paradoxical state of consciousness and being; it is action through inaction. It is what Lao Tzu calls wei wu wei. It is allowing something to happen through you. It is not a doing; it is an allowing. It is becoming a passage so the whole can flow through you. It is becoming a hollow bamboo, just a hollow bamboo. And then immediately something starts happening because hidden behind man is the beyond. Just give it a little way, a little passage, to come through you. That is creativity, allowing the whole to happen is creativity.

Creativity is a religious state. That’s why I say that a poet is far closer to godliness than a theologian, a dancer even far more close. The philosopher is the farthest away because the more you think, the greater the wall you create between you and the whole. The more you think, the more you are. The ego is nothing but all the thoughts accumulated in the past.

When you are not, the whole is. That is creativity.

Creativity simply means you are in a total relaxation. It does not mean inaction, it means relaxation, because out of relaxation much action will be born. But that will not be your doing; you will be just a vehicle. A song will start coming through you. You are not the creator of it; it comes from the beyond. It always comes from the beyond. When you create it, it is just ordinary, mundane. When it comes through you it has superb beauty. It brings something of the unknown in it.

When the great poet Coleridge died he left thousands of poems incomplete. Many times in his life he was asked, “Why don’t you complete these poems?” - because a few poems were missing only one line or two lines, “Why don’t you complete them?”

And he would say, “I cannot. I have tried, but when I complete them something goes amiss, something goes wrong. My line never falls in tune with that which has come through me. It remains a stumbling block; it becomes a rock, it hinders the flow. So I have to wait. Whosoever has been flowing through me, whenever he again starts flowing and completes the poem it will be completed, not before it.”

He completed only a few poems, but those are of superb beauty, of great mystic splendor. That has always been so. The poet disappears, then there is creativity, then he is possessed. Yes, that is the word, he is possessed.

To be possessed by the beyond is creativity.

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