Chapter 5: One Who Walks Alone
So after listening to this discourse do not be under the impression that it is unnecessary to meditate, that it is unnecessary to attain to aum, that it is unnecessary to become limitless. Don’t say, “All this is going to die, so why bother trying?” You have not achieved them yet. You have to achieve them first. These words are spoken to warn you against your ego, otherwise the tiniest, most subtle experience will give birth to sansara, to more worldly attachment. And you will be caught is that entanglement once again - subtly so, but trapped nonetheless.
This is what is meant by the Hindi word yogabhrasht, meaning one who has fallen from yoga. Such a man has achieved samadhi but has then fallen in love with it. He has achieved the highest peak of meditation but has become attached to it. He has failed to reach to non-attachment. He has experienced ecstasy, but he has desired to hold fast to it so as not to lose it. He needed to take one step higher - to leave yoga behind, to leave samadhi behind. Such a man is a yogabhrasht. Kabir is referring to that last step:
Nothingness dies, the soundless dies;
even the infinite dies.
A true lover never dies.
Why? Love is the only experience which is not separate from you, the only experience in which you are the experience itself. When you are in love you do not feel that you are experiencing love; in a moment of ecstasy you do not feel you are experiencing ecstasy. Understand this a bit more deeply. In the moment of love a person does not feel that he is experiencing love. He only becomes aware of it when the love has gone. Then he feels that he has experienced love.
How can a man be aware in that fiery moment of love? Love is such an intoxication and the feeling of ecstasy is so deep and so extreme that no one can stand apart and think about it, no one can be aloof from it enough to look at it. As long as it lasts one is not conscious of it, but when it passes one is surprised and only then becomes aware that something was there but has now gone. Then you remember it. Then you say, “That was love.” But in the moment of ecstasy itself one is not conscious one is experiencing it.
The experience of love is like the experience of perfect health. Only when you fall ill do you remember that before you were perfectly well and healthy. You only become aware of health during sickness. If there were no illnesses in the world people would not know what health is, they would simply remain healthy and in ignorance about it. Becoming ill reminds you of health. Only when you have a headache do you become aware of your head. When it is fine you never think about it. When the body is perfectly sound a state of bodilessness happens of its own accord and you do not remember the body at all.
When love is profound you have no idea at all what is happening. Then you are in some other world. But it is not a world of knowledge or an experience, it is a world of existence. Then you are not a lover, then you are love itself. Then who is there to know this state? There is no one to stand apart, to remain aloof.