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Chapter 4: The Perfume of Absolute Contentment

The first question:

As well as being someone like you,
Pythagoras was also a great mathematician.
How is this possible?

Man is not only the outer, and he is not only the inner either - he is both. And more: he is inner, he is outer, and he is transcendental too. Man is a three dimensional being. Those three dimensions are represented by Christianity as the Trinity, and by Hinduism as trimurti - three faces of God. And the man who lives only in one dimension lives a partial life. He will never know the beauty of the whole and the joy of the whole.

To live a partial life is to live in sickness, because the parts that are not allowed go on fighting with you. They want to express themselves. The denied being will take revenge on you. it will sabotage your life. It will not allow you to live peacefully; you will be in a constant civil war.

If you deny the body, the body will be angry with you. If you deny the soul, the soul will be angry with you. And d house divided against itself cannot be whole, cannot be at peace, cannot be at ease.

That’s why you see millions of people in such great misery. The misery is caused because they live a fragmentary life. They accept only a part of their being and the major parts are rejected. It is like a tree rejecting its roots because they are invisible - the tree will start dying, the roots will be angry. Or it is like the tree denying its flowers, foliage, branches, and accepting only the roots, then it will have no meaning.

Man has lived in a partial way, hence the question.

The total man will be rooted in the body like a tree rooted in the soil, and he will be growing into the sky like the branches of a tree - he will be moving into the inner sky. And he will have something more too, something transcendental to this duality, a third dimension.

The first dimension is very visible, it is material. It can be measured: it is the world of mathematics, the world of science. The second, the inner, is not so visible - it is vague, cloudy, mysterious. It is a twilight zone, neither day nor night, just in the middle between both. It exists on the boundaries of the material and the ultimate, of this and that. That is the world of poetry, art.

And the third is absolutely invisible. Nobody has ever seen it, nobody can ever see it, because it is the very being of the seer itself. You cannot reduce it to an object: it is your very subjectivity. It is always the witness and never the witnessed. It is always the observer and never the observed. That is the world of the mystic: the transcendental.

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