The master said, “Then you are bound to remain agitated because you wish for something. You refuse to leave this matter to God, while the fact is that everything depends on him; nothing is within your control. I became calm from the day when I began to accept willingly whatever happened, whatever came to me. I could not be calm as long as I desired and tried to become something.”
But the man would not accept what the master said. “I am jealous of your calm,” he said. “I cannot remain satisfied with your explanation.”
Then the master asked him to wait and to ask his question when there was nobody in his hut, because he had many visitors. The man agreed, and when there was nobody in the hut he again requested the master to show him some way. Then the master, putting his finger on his lips, said, “Be quiet.”
The man was greatly perplexed. He said, “When there are people here and I ask you for a reply, you tell me to ask when there is no one here; and when there is no one here and I ask you for a reply you tell me to keep quiet. How will my problem ever be solved?”
Evening came, the sun had set, and all the people had left. The cottage was empty, and the man again sought a reply. The master asked him to come outside. The full moon was shining. The master asked, “Do you see these plants?” Small plants were growing in front of the cottage.
The man replied, “I see them.”
Again the master asked, “Do you see those trees far off, reaching high into the sky?”
The man said, “I see them.”
Then the master said, “Those trees are great and tall. These plants are small and low. There is no conflict between them. I have never heard any dispute between them on this matter. These small plants never ask the tall trees why they are tall; they are satisfied with their smallness. The tall trees also never ask the small plants why they are small. Tall trees have their own difficulties, as they discover when there is a storm. The small plants have their problems too, but they are content with their smallness, just as the tall trees are content with their tallness. I have never heard of a dispute between these two; I have always found them quiet. So please leave me. I am what I am, and you are what you are.”
But how can that man be satisfied with this analogy? And how are we to be convinced? The mind always desires to be something. Why does it behave so? It is because we have always taken it for granted that we can do something. “No,” says the Ishavasya, “you cannot do anything. You cannot be the doer.” This was the secret of that great idea called fate. Fate does not mean that you should do nothing. That would be to sit quiet – and fate says that you cannot even sit at your own will. If fate seats you, only then can you sit. Fate makes “I shall do nothing” impossible for you. If fate wishes any nondoing, then nondoing will happen.