People come to me and they ask who they are. It is not a question of inquiry, because the being is not a static thing waiting for you to be discovered. The being has to be created moment to moment. That is the only way to discover it.
You create yourself moment to moment. You are born not as a fixed entity, but only as an infinite potentiality. You are born as a seed, not as a tree. You are born open, not closed, and that opening is tremendous. You will have to choose every moment who you are going to be. Your decision is your destiny. And unless you live a life so that the whole feels blessed, you are not religious.
A religious life is a life of spontaneity. A religious life is a life of flow, of dynamism. A religious life is a life of prayer.
Prayer is the supreme good. Let me explain to you what prayer is.
It is not something that you do; it has nothing to do with doing. It is something that you become, by and by. It is something that you live, it is something that surrounds you like a climate, it is something like a deep gratitude. Looking at the trees, or looking at the sea, or looking at the grass, a tremendous urge arises in you to say, “Thank-you.” That is prayer.
Not that you say it. It is not in the saying but in the very urge, in the very mood that you would like to say, unconditionally, “Thank-you” – not knowing to whom your thank-you is addressed, not knowing who is the creator of the morning and the evening and the stars and the moon and the sun, not knowing whose hands are hidden behind every grass leaf and who is smiling in every dewdrop…not knowing at all.
Knowledge is ugly; not knowing is beautiful. Remember: not knowing is not ignorance. Not knowing is ultimate knowledge. It transcends even what you call knowledge. Not knowing is innocence. In deep innocence a thank-you arises, unaddressed, not knowing whom you are addressing. But that is not the point. Deep within your being, in your depths, you feel gratitude.
Prayer is the feeling of the unknown presence. That feeling of the unknown presence becomes reverence. And prayer has to be just like breathing. It is not that you do it and you are finished with it. It is something that goes on and on and on like breathing. Awake or asleep, it surrounds you, it throbs within your heart. It almost becomes you. No separation exists.
And a life of prayer is what I call a good life. A life of gratitude is what I call a religious life.
This life of spontaneity, of flow, does not know what sin is. Sin comes from knowledge. That is the meaning of the biblical story. When Adam ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge, he sinned. Then he was thrown out of the Garden of Eden. This story has no parallel; this story is simply unique: “…because he ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge.”