In Zen they have a saying, one of the most beautiful: when a person lives in the world, mountains are mountains, rivers are rivers. When the person moves into meditation, now mountains are no more mountains, rivers are no more rivers. Everything is a confusion and a chaos. But when a man has attained to satori, to samadhi, again rivers are rivers and mountains are mountains. There are three stages: in the first, you are certain with the ego, in the third you are absolutely certain with the non-ego, and just in between the two, the chaos, when the certainty of the ego disappears and the certainty of life has not come yet. This is a very, very potential moment, very pregnant. If you become afraid and turn back, you will miss the possibility.
Ahead is the real certainty. That real certainty is not against uncertainty. Ahead is the real security, but that security is not against insecurity. That security is so vast that it contains insecurity within itself. It is so vast that it is not afraid of insecurity. It absorbs insecurity into itself, it contains all contradictions. So somebody can call it insecurity and somebody can call it security. In fact it is neither, or both. If you feel that you have become a stranger to yourself, celebrate it, feel grateful. Rare is this moment; enjoy it. The more you enjoy, the more you will find that the certainty is coming nearer to you, coming faster and faster towards you. If you can celebrate your strangeness, your uprootedness, your homelessness, suddenly you are at home – the third stage has come.
The second question
The West seems to be suffering from too-muchness even in spiritual matters. There are so many different trips, it is like trying to decide which brand of cereal is best when you have hundreds to choose from. How can we tell the West about you without making you seem like just another box of corn flakes on the market?
The world is a market, and nothing is wrong with it being a market. Why are you so against the market? The market is beautiful! You can go to the mountains for a rest, but eventually one has to come back to the market. The market is reality. Mountains may be holidays, but holidays are not so real as the reality of the market.