Chapter 25: Nobody Is Planning except Man
The flowers don’t decide, they don’t have a committee, they don’t have files, they don’t make any decision, any planning for the future. When the spring comes they will blossom, and when the fall comes, the trees will become naked, all their leaves will fall. There is no sadness anywhere; the trees are not full of tears, because all their foliage is gone.
No, they enjoy this too. Standing against the sky without any leaves, a tree has a beauty of its own. It has a beauty when the foliage comes, but that is a beauty of a different dimension.
Existence has all colors and nobody is planning except man. And nobody is in such a mess as man, because by your planning you are really trying to postpone living.
There is no need to know where the wind blows. Just go with it. It will never mislead you, because this whole existence is ours; wherever we end up, it is our home. The wind cannot take you out of existence, but your mind takes you out of existence. Only your mind is capable of taking you into dreams which don’t exist, which are unreal, illusory, and you get caught so much in them that you forget that existence never misleads you - it cannot!
Only the spontaneous person is in tune with existence. And only the spontaneous person is always blissful, because whatever happens, he immediately finds himself in tune with it. He has no desires of his own, no projections, no propositions of his own. He has simply accepted himself as part of the cosmos. And wherever the whole is going, he is also going, joyously, because the whole is certainly wiser than the part. And we are such small parts that all our planning makes us look stupid.
In this whole universe there is no planning at all. Everything is moving without any plan, every moment going deeper. Only man remains superficial: without living he goes on and on thinking to live sometime, but that time never comes.
Mrs. Rachel Saperstein has just sent the kids to school when the phone rings. “Is your husband’s name Amos Saperstein?” asks a voice.
“Yes it is,” she replies.
“This is the police,” says the voice. “There has been an accident and we would like you to come and identify the body.”
Mrs. Saperstein arrives at the morgue, and an attendant shows her a body covered in a white sheet. He lifts the sheet. “Was this your husband?” he asks.
Mrs. Saperstein’s eyes widen. “Oy, oy, oy!” she cries. “How did you - yes, that’s my husband - how did you ever get your sheets so white?”
Just a woman’s mind! The husband is dead and she is worried about how you get your sheets so white!