It is perfectly good that you are sleepy and moving slowly. Fish also sleep and even in their sleep they go on moving. Just watch any fish. Even a fish cannot be awake twenty-four hours. She has times to wake up to have breakfast, to look at the newspaper…and there is not much work, political, social, philosophical…. Then the fish sleeps, but even in sleep she is slowly moving. Movement is bound to be there because the river is moving. In a moving river, how can the fish remain unmoving, even asleep?
Existence is moving. In this whole existence, except change, nothing is permanent. Only change does not change. Everything else changes. You are growing old, even without feeling it – and it is an absolute certainty that you are growing old. Do you think people suddenly jump and become old? They were going home and on the way suddenly they jump and they have become old? They have been becoming old when they were going to the office, when they were coming home. When they were sleeping they were becoming old. Whatever they were doing, change was continuous.
If your silence has become almost like breathing, a part of your being, just as with the circulation of the blood, then there is no need to be worried that you are too slow.
In the inner world there is no question of speed. In the inner world everything is growing naturally according to its own pace. You cannot make somebody enlightened, forcibly, on the point of a gun: “Become enlightened!” There is no way, even if the person says, “Okay, I am enlightened.” He knows and you know that enlightenment does not happen on the point of a gun.
You are in a perfectly good state. But being a woman you are naturally worried about old age. It is very difficult for a woman to get rid of the idea that whatever she is doing, one thing is going on continuously by the side: she is growing old and that hurts. She tries hard. Most women stop growing old at the age of thirty-five. Then suddenly five years later they become thirty-six. When everybody starts looking worried, puzzled, they think, “Now is the time I am growing old.”
A woman never tells the truth about her age. I have told you that even on the point of a loaded gun you may perhaps become enlightened, but a woman will not reveal her age.
It is an old understanding that there are seven ages of man:
Sixteen to twenty-five…twice daily.
Twenty-five to thirty-five…thrice weekly.
Thirty-five to forty-five…try weekly.
Forty-five to fifty-five…try weakly.
Fifty-five to sixty-five…try oysters.
Sixty-five to seventy-five…try anything.
Seventy-five and beyond…try to remember.
And just like the man, there are seven ages of woman:
Sixteen to twenty-five, like Africa: partly virgin, partly explored.
Twenty-five to thirty-five, like India: hot and mysterious.