When I’m not near you physically, music seems to be the easiest way to feel your love. Sometimes, listening to classical music, it touches me so deeply that there comes a moment when I feel I cannot take in more joy. Suddenly I remember you, and all the excitement falls into a greater depth, more calm, silent, soothing. Now there is no more boundary to joy…And so much gratitude.
The first thing to understand is that music is a by-product of meditation.
The first musicians, the pioneers, were really not trying to create music; they were trying to find some way to convey the silence, the beauty, the calmness, the soothingness that they had felt in meditation. They have worked in many ways; in fact all the arts have their origin in meditation, but music comes the closest, because music is nothing but a play between sound and silence.
To the ordinary musician the sound is important. To the master musician the silence is important: he uses sound only to create silence. He raises sound to a high pitch and then drops it so suddenly that you fall into a deep silence.
In the East the classical music is absolutely devoted to meditation. It has not forgotten its origin. But the origin must have been thousands of years back. There is no written record about it, so whatever I am saying is according to my inner experience. I have felt it, that I use language also in the same way…words to create moments of wordlessness. Basically it is the same technique.
So it is possible: listening to music you may remember me. You may feel close to me, although I am not a musician. There is no superficial connection between me and music, but there is something deeply connected.
The musician is using notes of music to create periods of silence.
I am using words to create gaps.
Those gaps are more real, closer to my experience than the words. But it is difficult for people to understand the gaps – they can understand only words. So I have to trick them into the gaps. They come to listen to the words, but slowly, slowly they start slipping into the gaps. And finally they will find that they have been tricked: the words were irrelevant. What was really relevant was the gap between two words.
It has been a problem with the television people, because they have a limited time – ten minutes, fifteen minutes at the most. And they have been asking me, “You speak so slowly, and you give so many gaps, that our fifteen minutes are just equal to five minutes. You speak only five minutes, and ten minutes is going into the gaps. Can’t you speak more usually and not give so many gaps?”
And I had to tell them, “It is impossible, because my message is in the gaps. Words I can leave, and be silent; but gaps I cannot leave. Then there is no point in saying anything. What I am saying is those gaps; what you are listening to are the words.”