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Chapter 7: Your Ego Is the Distance between You and Me

You are asking, “I look at other people’s questions.” In the first place, that is wrong. You are here to listen to my answers, not to listen to others’ questions. “I look at other people’s questions to see how they can express these feelings.” How can you see their feelings? You can listen to their questions but whether they have those feelings within them or not, there is no way to see. In fact, the people who don’t have those feelings find it easier to express; those who have those feelings find it almost impossible to express.

And you are unnecessarily worrying: “I just can’t find the words to express my tears or my love, although the longing is there.” Your tears are enough. Your love is enough. There is no need to send the question; just drop a few tears on the paper and write underneath: L-U-V, love. Don’t write the exact spelling, because that means it is coming out of the mind.

Or just make.Many small children who are sannyasins send me letters - they cannot write much, they simply make a picture of the heart and an arrow. And they have said everything, far better than any poet. What more can any poet do? Just drop two tears also - then it becomes more heartful, more expressive. And it is not a question, it is simply an expression. Love is not a question; neither are your tears a question. They will show your longing; they will show the space you are in.

“Do I need to use words to expose myself?” There is no need. But if you feel the need - not because others are asking.If you feel the need without any comparison and without any imitation, then ask, use words. There is no harm in it. But I repeat again: don’t imitate. Don’t do just anything because everybody else is doing it and if you don’t do it, what will people think? - perhaps you don’t have any love, perhaps you don’t have any tears, perhaps you don’t have anything to ask.

Here, nobody is going to think about you. Even to think about somebody is an interference in his freedom; it is trespassing his territory. Who are you even to raise a question in your mind about somebody else? My whole effort is to make you respectful of the dignity of everyone else, and his absolute freedom.

Even to think about him is a very subtle interference.

Mrs. Isaac was dying. “Rosen, dear,” she pleaded weakly, “I want you to promise me that you will ride in the same car with my mother at my funeral.”

“Okay,” sighed Rosen, “but it is going to ruin my whole day.”

There are a few things which should not be expressed; it is better not to express them.

Little Hymie was taking his bath with little Becky before the Sabbath. They were making soap bubbles, when suddenly little Hymie looked at Becky and said, “And now I am going to duck you.”

“Ha!” said Becky with contempt. “You don’t even know how to pronounce it!”

It is better sometimes to keep silent.

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