Chapter 13: Almost Ready to Steal the Truth
You be thirsty. The water will be available. It has never happened in the world that somebody was thirsty for truth and truth was not available. It is not in the nature of things. And life is enough to make you thirsty. Life is really a school to create the thirst, to create the search, to make you a seeker and an adventurer.
The questioner certainly wants to reach somewhere, but he is more interested in the goal far away. His eyes are searching for something that can make him a seeker. That is not the way. You should look close enough within yourself and see all the misery and anguish. See that this life is fleeting - each moment you are dying. Death does not come suddenly. The day you were born, you started dying. It takes seventy years to complete the process - that is another thing - but every moment we are dying.
But people try to deceive themselves even by celebrating their birthday. Each birthday means you have lost one year’s life. Now another year’s life is going to be lost - this is the beginning. Another year is going to be dead soon. Every day you take the dates off the calendar, you are taking some life off from your being. Your death is becoming bigger, and your life is becoming shorter, smaller.
People think when they were children they were small. That is the wrong attitude. When they become old, then they are small, because now life is very small. A child has a long life. Just look at the reality of life and it will create a thirst, it will create a search, it will create a seeking.
But the man must be immensely interested because he has offered me his four acres of land in Kathmandu. It is more than enough for me - but he doesn’t know that I am not alone. I have a world caravan!
In the commune in America the government of America became so jealous and so antagonistic. We had sixty-four thousand acres of land - one hundred and twenty-six square miles. And it was needed, because five thousand sannyasins were living with me, and fifty thousand sannyasins were coming and going all the year round. At festival times there were twenty thousand sannyasins. And I wanted them to have enough space - lakes, the forest - to have the fresh air, to swim.and not to become a crowded city. Otherwise, fifty thousand people at one time would be stepping over each other.
No, even if one hundred thousand people had been there, it would have remained absolutely silent. There would have been no overcrowding. The idea was that everybody should have enough space around himself so he could feel relaxed, at ease.
Perhaps you don’t know that whenever you are overcrowded, something in you is crushed, pressed from every side; it creates tension. And whenever you go to the sea or to the mountains, suddenly you feel a widening, as if you are no longer pressed from every side, but your being has freedom to take as much space as it wants.