Yesterday I said to you that the experience that comes in the moment of orgasm consists of two elements: timelessness and egolessness. Time disappears and the ego dissolves. Because of the absence of the ego and the stoppage of time, one has a glimpse of one’s own self – of one’s real self. But that glory is momentary and then we are back in the same old rut. And in the process we have lost a great amount of energy, we have dissipated a big flow of bio-electric energy.
The mind hankers for that glimpse; the mind yearns to grasp it again. And that glimpse itself is so transitory that we have scarcely had it than it disappears. It doesn’t leave behind even a clear memory of itself as to what it was, what it was that one experienced. What remains is an urge, an obsession, a mad awaiting to regain that experience. And one remains engaged one’s whole life in this attempt, but one can never have that glimpse for more than a moment.
This glimpse is also attained through meditation.
There are two ways to reach to one’s consciousness: sex and meditation. Sex is the way provided by nature. Sex is nature’s course: animals have it, birds have it, plants have it, humans have it. So long as human beings make use only of nature’s way, they are not above the animals; they cannot be, that door is also available to the animals. The territory of humanness begins the day we open a new door other than that of sex. Prior to that we are not human beings; prior to that we are humans only for the name’s sake. Prior to that our life center coincides with the animals’ life center only, with nature’s life center only. Until we rise above this, until we transcend this, we live the way animals do. We clothe ourselves like a human being, we speak the language of a human being; we maintain all the outward appearances of a human being, but inside at deep levels of the mind we are no more than animals, we cannot be more. This is the reason the animal in us bursts out at the slightest available opportunity.
At the time of the India and Pakistan partition, we saw how an animal lurks behind the clothing of human beings. We came to know what the people who pray in the mosques and recite the Gita in the temples are capable of: they can loot, they can slaughter, they can rape – they can do everything. The very people who were always seen praying in the temples and mosques were now seen raping in the streets. What had happened to them?
If a riot happens right now, here, people will immediately have the opportunity to take leave of their humanness – and the animal, ever ready in them, will come out. The animal in man is always anxious for free rein. In the crowd, in the riot, man finds the opportunity to throw off his adopted garb of humanity and to forget himself. In the crowd, he develops the courage to let loose the animal he has been taming somehow. This is why no human being has committed as heinous a crime singularly as he does in a crowd. A solitary person has some fear of being seen, being opposed, being labeled as an animal. But in the midst of a big crowd of people one loses his identity; one is not worried about being spotted at all. One is now part and parcel of the mob; now there is no person with a name, now it is just this one big crowd. Now the person does what the big crowd does.