Chapter 13: The Home-Coming
On this point all the mystics of the world agree totally: You are whom you are searching. The searcher is the sought; the arrow is the target; the observer is the observed.
The duality between the observer and the observed disappears. You become one - the seer and the seen. This becoming one is the greatest ecstasy possible to human consciousness.
This is the highest peak and the deepest depth. This is the whole religion. All else that exists in the name of religion is false - not only false but positively harmful, because it takes you away. It tells you to worship a god who is in the sky - and your god is within you; the worshipped is in the worshiper. It takes you to the temples and to the churches - while you are the temple and you are the church and you are the synagogue.
You need not go anywhere.
You have just to settle down in deep silence, calmness and quietude, and you will have found that which cannot be found by wandering thousands of miles, by learning hundreds of scriptures, by practicing many, many rituals.
It needs no ritual, it needs no scripture. It needs no churches, no temples; it simply is there. It has not to happen; it is your essential reality, it is your existence. It has only to be discovered - or perhaps rediscovered. Perhaps in the mother’s womb you knew it. Those nine months of deep silence.how can you avoid knowing it?
But as you come into the world, the world is so full of attractions, challenges, that you start running after this thing, after that thing. And slowly, slowly.a very vague memory somewhere remains within you, but you cannot figure it out, where you have experienced it. But one thing is certain: unless you have known something of it you cannot search for it. Without knowing something of it, the idea of searching for it does not arise. You have tasted it, and it still remains in the deepest parts of your unconsciousness.
That is the only hope - that someday you will listen to the still, small voice within. Tired of all your wanderings and explorations, there is only one hope: you will sit silently. You have done everything that was to be done; you will sit without doing anything. You are tired, utterly tired. You will relax. And in that relaxation, the greatest wonder of life happens - you find that for which you have been running all along.
Down there, however - all speech is in vain!
In your innermost center of being all speech is in vain.
Obviously speech is invented to convey something when there is somebody else. When you are absolutely alone the function of the speech disappears; one becomes speechless.