A relationship exists between a psychiatrist and his patient which is bound to be ill, pathological, because a patient comes not in search of truth, is really not in search of health… This word health is very meaningful: it means wholeness, it means holiness, it means a deep healing in the self. A patient does not come for health, because if he comes for health he cannot be anything other than a disciple. A patient comes to get rid of an illness; the attitude is totally negative. He has come just to be forced to become normal again, just to become a working part of the normal world again. He has become maladjusted; he needs adjustment and the psychiatrist helps him to be adjusted again. But adjusted to whom? – adjusted to this world, this society which is absolutely ill.

What you call the “normal” human being is nothing but normal pathology or normal madness, normal insanity. The “normal” man is also insane, but insane within the boundaries, the accepted boundaries of the society, of the culture. Sometimes somebody trespasses, goes beyond the boundaries; then he becomes ill. Then the whole society, which is ill, says that this man is ill. And the psychiatrist exists on the boundary to help this man back, back to the crowd.

The psychiatrist cannot be a master, because he himself is not whole. And the patient cannot be a disciple, because he has not come to learn. He is disturbed, and he does not want to be disturbed; his effort is only for adjustment, not for health. The psychiatrist cannot be a master, although in the West he is pretending to be, and sooner or later he will pretend that he is a master in the East too. But he cannot be: he himself is ill. He may help others to be adjusted, and that’s okay; in some ways, one ill man can help another. But one ill man cannot bring another man who is ill to wholeness; one madman cannot help another madman to go beyond madness.

Even your Freuds, your Jungs, your Adlers, are absolutely ill; not only ordinary psychiatrists, but the greatest of them are ill and pathological. I will tell you a few things so that you can feel it. Whenever somebody mentioned anything about death, Freud would start trembling. Twice he even fainted and fell down from his chair, just because somebody was talking about the mummies in Egypt. He fainted! And at another time, Jung was talking about death, corpses, and Freud suddenly trembled and fell down. He fainted, became unconscious. If death was such a fear to Freud, what about his disciples? And why should death be such a fear? Can you conceive of a buddha being afraid of death? Then he would no longer be a buddha.

Jung has reported many times that he wanted to go to Rome to visit the Vatican, and particularly to visit the library, the Vatican library, which is the greatest. It has the secret-most, rare records of all religions that have existed. But whenever he went to purchase a ticket he would start trembling. Just going to Rome! What would have happened when he went to moksha? He would cancel the ticket and come back. He never went, never. He tried many times, and in the end he decided, “No, I cannot go.”