When an archer is shooting for fun
he has all his skill.
If he shoots for a brass buckle
he is already nervous.
If he shoots for a prize of gold
he goes blind
or sees two targets –
he is out of his mind.
His skill has not changed,
but the prize divides him.
He thinks more of winning
than of shooting –
and the need to win
drains him of power.
If the mind is filled with dreams you cannot see rightly. If the heart is filled with desires you cannot feel rightly. Desires, dreams and hopes – the future disturbs you, and whatsoever is, is in the present. When you are divided, desire leads you into the future, and life is here and now. Reality is here and now, and desire leads you into the future. Then you are not here. You see, but still you don’t see; you hear, but still you miss; you feel, but the feeling is dim, it cannot be deep, it cannot be penetrating. That is how truth is missed.
People go on asking where to find the divine, where to find the truth. It is not a question of finding the divine or the truth. It is always here, it has never been anywhere else, it cannot be. It is there where you are, but you are not there, your mind is somewhere else. Your eyes are filled with dreams, your heart is filled with desires. You move into the future, and the future is illusion. Or, you move into the past, and the past is already dead.
The past is no more and the future has yet to be. Between these two is the present moment. That moment is very short, as short as possible, it is atomic, you cannot divide it – it is indivisible. That moment passes in the flicker of an eye. If a desire enters, you have missed it; if a dream is there, you are missing it.
The whole of religion consists of not leading you somewhere, but bringing you to the here and now, bringing you back to the whole, back where you have always been. But the head has gone away, very far away. This head has to be brought back. So God is not to be sought somewhere – that is why you are missing him, because you are searching somewhere. He has been here waiting for you.
Once it happened that Mulla Nasruddin came staggering home totally drunk. He knocked at his own door, knocked again and again. It was already half past midnight. The wife came and Nasruddin asked her, “Can you tell me, madam, where Mulla Nasruddin lives?”
The wife said, “This is too much. You are Mulla Nasruddin.”
Mulla Nasruddin said, “That’s okay, I know that, but that doesn’t answer my question. Where does he live?”