In India all the religions are agreed on one point; they differ in their philosophies, they differ on every other thing, but on one thing they are all agreed – that life is a continuity; death comes millions of times. Death is only a change of the body, a change of the house, and this process goes on – unless you become totally enlightened. Then there is no need to enter another womb, because life was just a school, a training; you have completed it. Your enlightenment is the culmination of your education about existence. Now you need not enter into another body. You can enter into the womb of the universe itself – you are prepared for it.
So whenever you are having glimpses, don’t be satisfied with them. Your glimpses should create great discontent in you, not content. They should create a longing that what is seen far away you would like to come closer, and closer, and closer. You don’t want just to see it, even from c closeness; you want to become it.
You can become love, you can become silence, you can become joy, you can become all these experiences: beauty, light, consciousness. These are not things that you cannot become; they are your potentials. So take every glimpse to its ultimate end. That’s what I call crystallization.
Once it is crystallized, once you have known yourself to be love, yourself to be light, yourself to be consciousness, then there is no problem of forgetting it. Then these experiences will go with you. And in your future life you will be growing further ahead, from consciousness to super-consciousness; you will be going beyond these experiences. But if you remain satisfied with your glimpses, there is every danger they will be erased. Death is such a shock and such a surgery and such a long coma that when you wake up, you will have forgotten all those glimpses.
“Someone stole my bike,” complained a priest to his minister friend.
“Bring up the Ten Commandments in your sermon tomorrow, and as soon as you mention, ‘Thou shalt not steal,’ look around in your congregation; you will find the guilty party. Invite him to come forward. Tell him that this is the way to confess, and this is the way to get the forgiveness of God,” the minister said confidently.
The next day the priest visited the minister and happily reported that he had found his bike. “Yes”, he went on, “when I came to ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery’ I remembered where I had left it.”
Is it possible that I always transform my feelings and experiences into words and images only to get rid of them? Is it possible that I come to your feet with tremendous thirst, and when I am filled with energy, I am overwhelmed with this absolute need of sharing – only to get rid of it? Is it possible that this urge for sharing is only my illusion, or just my way to escape? Somebody told me that I should be more generous with myself. What can I do if I know not any other way to be generous with myself than sharing? Is it time for me to learn another way? Please help me with your guidance.