You ask this question because you consider emptiness to be nothing. And why should you do anything just to achieve nothing? One should do something if there is something to be achieved. You equate emptiness with nothing. So sadhana, or effort, feels unnecessary for you. For you, effort is only worth making if you have to become something. Why strive for nothing?
But you don’t realize that emptiness means the whole. You don’t know that the void is all there is. It does not mean nothing; it means the absolute. But right now you cannot understand how emptiness could be the whole, the absolute. A well can also say, “If I have to go to the ocean just to know that I am nothing, then why should I go at all?” The well is right to say so. And it is right in refusing to go to the ocean if it means that ultimately the well does not exist.
But for reality or truth it makes no difference if you don’t go. The fact is that you are not. Whether you do go to the ocean or you don’t, it doesn’t alter the reality. The reality is that you are not a well; you are the ocean itself. You can choose to remain a well but the fact is that you are not; it is a lie that you are. And this lie will continue to hurt you, to haunt you. It will continue to make your life unhappy and miserable, and it will keep you in chains, in bondage. In this lie there is no possibility whatsoever of joy and bliss.
It is true that on reaching the sea the well will disappear, but with it all its misery, all its anxiety will also disappear – because all its misery and anxiety are inextricably bound up with its being a well, an entity, an ego. To others it will seem that the well has lost itself by entering the ocean; it has failed to become something. But the well will not think so. The well will say, “Who says that I am lost? I have become the ocean itself.” It was the neighboring well, that has not yet visited the sea, which will say, “Where are you going, you fool? Why go where you will cease to be?” But the ocean-going well will say, “Who says it means to be nothing? It is true that I will die as a well, but I will be born as the ocean itself.”
The choice is always whether you want to remain a well or you want to become an ocean. The choice is between the petty and the immense, between the part and the whole, between bondage and freedom. But it is an experiential matter; it is not at all philosophical. And if the well is afraid of dying, it will have to sever all relationship with the ocean, because as long as it is related with the ocean, it will always face the danger of becoming aware that it is the ocean itself.
Then the well will have to break its ties even with all the underground springs and streams, because ultimately they go to the same ocean. The well will have to close its eyes from all sides and refuse to look within, lest it should come to know of its own nonbeing and the being of the ocean. Then it will always look outward and never within. Then it will want the streams to be as small as possible; it will even like them to be dry and dead. But then in the long run the well itself will die, even though it has done everything to save itself. In the very effort to save itself, it will perish. Jesus has said, “He who will save himself will die, and he alone will be saved who will die voluntarily.”