Chapter 7: Life’s Complementariness
I am here just to point the way. Don’t start clinging to my fingers, look at the moon the fingers are pointing at. The fingers are irrelevant!
In an attractive little town just near Los Angeles, a group of the local intellectuals formed a club to study hypnosis, mesmerism, and the related sciences of the mind. The club took a definitive place in the social life of the little city and many of the most prominent citizens were invited to join. The studio where the club meetings were held was most attractively decorated and there was a beautiful big crystal ball suspended from the ceiling in the very center of the room. The leader and teacher had a dynamic personality and he presided over the sÃ©ances authoritatively and with great dignity.
One recent evening a sÃ©ance was held, and the members took their seats in the large circle that had been formed as part of the seating arrangement. The lights were dimmed, and the crystal ball automatically began to swing back and forth as the professor mounted his little platform.
“Concentrate on what I am saying,” began the leader. “Do exactly as I tell you to do. Keep your eye on the ball. Think about what I am saying. Follow my instructions faithfully. Do exactly what I tell you to do.”
And then, with a terrific crash, the cord broke and the crystal ball fell and was smashed to pieces.
The leader shouted at the top of his voice, “Ah, shit!”
They say that it took over two weeks to clean up the studio.
Please remember, you are not to follow my words; you are to follow my silences, the pauses between the words, the gaps, the intervals. It is in those intervals that the communion happens, and then you will see the complementariness of the opposites. In those moments you will see there is no master, no disciple. Something totally different takes place: a meeting, a merger, not unity but oneness. And the oneness is not mechanical either; it is organic, it is alive, throbbing.
In the East we have called these moments satsang, communion. Communion is not communication. This is not a discourse, this is not even a talk - this is just a communion. Words are being used only to create silences, just as one uses a blackboard to write with white chalk on it. The blackboard is not the purpose; the purpose is the white writing. I am using words to create a blackboard so that I can write a few moments of silences on it; that is the purpose.
If you become too much concerned with my words you will get into unnecessary trouble - and you are already in so much trouble. Get out of it.
The second question: