The egoist will hear the same words but will not hear the same meaning. The egoless person will also hear the same words, but those words will connote a totally different meaning; they will resound in him with a totally different melody. When it rains, it rains on the mountains, it rains in the valleys, it rains everywhere; but the mountains remain as dry as ever – they are already too full. But when it rains into the valleys, the valleys become lakes. They are empty: they can absorb, they can contain. The valleys are feminine; the mountains are too masculine. The mountains are too egoistic; the valleys are humble.
When the master speaks there are many categories of listeners. The first category is that of the curious person, who has just come out of curiosity; he will hear only something very ordinary, something very unessential, something even meaningless, and that will become most important for him. He is there for a wrong reason. He will collect all kinds of data, but they will all belong to the surface.
Then there is the student who has come to gather more knowledge, more information. He will hear a little better than the first one, the curious one, but still his interest is in information. He is not ready to be transformed, to be converted; he is not ready to go that far. He has a certain limit beyond which he won’t move a single inch. He will go with a little knowledge, with a little more accumulation, thinking that now he knows more. He knows nothing; he has become simply more informed – and information is not knowledge. Transformation is only knowledge, real knowledge; information is pseudo.
Then there is the disciple who listens in a deeper way than the first two categories. He listens not to gather knowledge; he wants to be changed, but he has a certain idea of what change means. He wants to go into the beyond, but he has a certain direction, a conclusion which he has already decided. He comes with a decision, an a priori conclusion that this is what conversion is. He is not all open – open only on one side, open only in one direction.
There are people here who write to me that, “We would like you to speak more on great lovers of God like Meera, Chaitanya, Kabir, because when you speak on Kabir, Meera, Chaitanya, our hearts are moved, our eyes start showering tears of joy, of bliss; we are thrilled to the very core of our being. But when you talk about Buddhist sutras they look dry, logical, but seem to be more appealing to the intelligence than to the world of feelings.” Now, they are open only on one side.
When I speak on Meera, Kabir, Rumi, then there are people who are lovers of Buddha and they start writing letters to me, that “These are beautiful words, but not so profound as the Buddhist sutras. Each sutra has such depth! You can go on digging it; you never come to the bottom rock.” They are also open only on one side.
These are disciples. One is open to love, another is open to awareness, but they are not totally open. They will hear, but they will hear with this a priori conclusion. They will hear in a far better way than the student, they will learn deeply, but it will be a partial learning. They will know more than the student, but it cannot be a total knowing.