There is a Hasidic saying that, “Man is made of dust and returns to dust – dust unto dust; between and betwixt, a drink comes handy.” It’s really beautiful, “…made of dust, falls one day back unto dust; between and betwixt, a drink comes handy.”
That drink is the desire, the projection, the ambition, the future, the imagination; otherwise, suddenly you will become aware that you are just dust and nothing else. Hoping for the future, waiting for the future, the dust has a dream around it; it partakes of the glory of the dream, it illuminates. Through the dream you feel you are somebody. And dreaming costs nothing – you can dream! Beggars can dream of being emperors; there is no law against it. To avoid being, a dream of becoming is projected. Those two vagabonds are the whole humanity personified.
Man is a vagabond. From where do you come? – you can’t say. Where are you going? – you can’t answer. Where are you right now, this moment? – at the most you can shrug your shoulders. Man is a vagabond, a wanderer – with no home in the past, with no home in the future; a wanderer on a continuous wandering – endless. Beckett is right: those two vagabonds are the whole humanity.
But to create a dream, one is not enough, two are needed – because one will be less than enough, the other’s help is needed. That’s why those who want to get out of dreams try to remain alone start becoming silent, meditate, move to the Himalayas. They try to be alone because when you are alone it is difficult. By and by, again and again, you are thrown back to your reality: the prop is not there, the excuse is not there – the other is needed. That’s why whenever somebody falls in love, suddenly dreams explode in the being. The other is there; now you can dream together and you can help each other to avoid oneself. That’s why there is so much need for love: it is a dream need.
Alone, it is very difficult to dream. Again and again the dream is broken and you are thrown to the bare naked reality, the emptiness. A lover is needed: somebody to cling to, somebody to look to, somebody to share with, somebody who will patch the gaps, who will bring you out of yourself so that you don’t come face to face with your naked reality.
Two vagabonds are sitting – the curtain rises: they are waiting for Godot. They don’t ask each other, “Who is this Godot anyhow, anyway?” because to ask will be dangerous. They both know, deep down, that they are waiting for nobody. It is dangerous, risky to ask, “Who is this Godot?” To raise the very question will be dangerous: the dream will be shattered! They are afraid, they don’t ask.
One question they avoid continuously, “Who is this Godot?” – which is the basic question, which should be asked the very first moment one becomes aware. You are waiting for Godot – ask: “Who is this Godot?” But they are touchy about it, they talk about many other things.