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OSHO Online Library   »   The Books   »   Reflections on Khalil Gibran's The Prophet
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Chapter 35: The Silent Gratitude

So he devised a simple thing. He came with a tape recorder and put it by the side of the couch where the rich man was lying down, ready to start. The psychoanalyst said, “I have so many patients and, because you take three, four hours - and you can pay for it so there is no question of preventing you, you are my most important client - I have found a device. You talk to my tape recorder, and in the night, in the silence when the whole world has gone to sleep, I will listen to it.”

The rich man said, “There is no problem.”

The next day, when the psychoanalyst was entering the office, he saw the rich man going out. He said, “What is the matter? The office has just been opened. Are you not going to talk to my tape recorder today?”

The rich man said, “I have also found a way. In the silence of the night I spoke to my tape recorder. Now my tape recorder is lying on the couch talking to your tape recorder. So you are free, I am free - nobody is at a loss. You will get your money, I will get my psychoanalysis.”

The priests have been doing this from the very beginning. They invented God, they invented prayers, they found their customers who were eager to have some bank balance in the other world. This is how millions of priests and priestesses have lived like parasites on humanity.

It is strange, but significant, that a priestess asks Almustafa: Speak to us of Prayer. Can you conceive of a lover asking somebody, “Speak to us of love”? He knows love. His very being is dancing with love, his whole life is a song of love. Why should he ask anybody, “Speak of love”? A lover knows that nothing can be spoken of love.

But only a lover knows that nothing can be spoken of love. Those who have never loved can ask, “Say something about love.” You can love, you can experience it, but nobody can speak about it. It is beyond words, beyond language, beyond your mind.

Love is a flower that blossoms in the innermost being of your consciousness where words are left miles behind; only silence prevails. In that silence love dances, love sings; but to bring that dance to words is impossible. There is no way to translate that dance into the words of any language.

Prayer is the most profound form of love - love for the whole existence, unaddressed to anybody, just radiating from your being because you are so full of it. Out of your abundance, it flows in all directions. Those who will come close to you will be touched by it. Nothing will be said, but everything will be understood; nothing will be said, but everything will be heard. It is not a question of words, it is a question of opening your doors for love to enter. You may be dissolved into it - because it is not a problem to be solved, it is an experience in which the only way is to dissolve yourself.

Prayer is the highest form of love. There is no beloved, but love goes on radiating from your being toward all that exists.

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