The first question:
What is the totality of myself? Why do I go on avoiding it?
The totality of yourself has nothing to do with you. It is not your totality or my totality; totality is one – in which we all disappear. That is the fear. You can remain only if you are partial, if you are only a part. The moment you want to be the total, you will have to commit a kind of suicide, a spiritual suicide. You will have to disappear.
If the dewdrop wants to be the ocean, the only possible way is to disappear into the ocean, to die as a dewdrop. The moment a dewdrop dies as a dewdrop, it becomes the ocean. That creates fear.
People talk about God, but nobody wants to lose himself. Hence the talk of God remains impotent, meaningless. People worship God but they keep a distance. They go to the temples, but they never really go – because they go on clinging to their idea of themselves.
There are two ways to be. One is as an ego: separate from the total, which is illusory because there is no way to be really separate. You can only believe that you are separate; deep down you remain one with the whole. Hence all that you create around the idea of the ego remains illusory. In the East we call it maya. Maya means a world of futile dreams.
The other way to be is not to be separate: losing one’s definition, losing all demarcations, distinctions. Then you enter into the world of the real, the world of brahma. Then you transcend dreams. And the basic, fundamental dream is the dream of the ego, the dream that I am. You are not; I am not, only existence is.
But that is a great risk. Disappearing into the vastness of existence frightens, scares. You feel so cozy in your small world of dreams; surrounded by your own dreams it is so warm, you are so sheltered, secure.
That’s why people go on clinging even to miseries because those miseries are part, an essential part of the dream world you live in. Your happiness, your unhappiness are two aspects of your dreams. The real knows no happiness, no unhappiness; the real is beyond all duality. There is utter bliss. But remember, bliss is not happiness; you will not find any happiness in bliss, you will not find any unhappiness either.
It is a totally different world of which you cannot have any notion unless you have tasted of it. Bliss can have no meaning for you. Bliss is meaningful only to buddhas, to those who have known. But to know, you have to fulfill a basic requirement: you have to disappear. It is a very paradoxical requirement – to be, you have not to be.
You ask, “What is the totality of myself?”