Chapter 3: Sleep, Identification, Duality
But a man who practices pain becomes incapable of feeling pain. A man who practices pain becomes capable of pleasure for small things, just small things. You cannot understand. For a man who has been fasting for a month, ordinary bread and butter and salt is such a great feast. A man who has been lying down on thorns, if you allow him to lie down just on the ground, on the plain ground, no emperor could sleep so beautifully.
But both are two aspects of the same coin, and both are wrong. The monk has just reversed the process: he is standing in a shirshasan, a head stand, but he is the same man. Both are attached: one is attached to pleasure, the other is attached to pain.
A man of awareness is unattached. He is neither a grahstha, a householder, neither is he a monk. He does not move to the monastery and he does not go to the mountains. He remains wherever he is - he simply moves withinwards. On the outside there is no choice for him. He does not cling to pleasure and he does not cling to pain. He is neither a hedonist nor a self-torturer. He simply moves withinwards looking at the game of pleasure and pain, light and shadow, day and night, life and death. He moves beyond both. Because there is duality, he moves beyond both, he transcends both. He simply becomes alert and aware, and in that awareness for the first time something happens which is neither pain nor pleasure, but which is bliss. Bliss is not pleasure; pleasure is always mixed with pain. Bliss is neither pain nor pleasure, bliss is beyond both.
And beyond both you are. That’s your nature, your purity, your crystal purity of being - just a transcendence. You live in the world, but the world is not in you. You move in the world, but the world doesn’t move in you. You remain untouched wherever you are. You become a lotus flower.
Enough for today.