The first question:
What I mean by sannyas is a spiritual discipline, so that one becomes a religious person. But it is not happening to me. What to do?
My sannyas is not a discipline. My sannyas is freedom, freedom from all control – even from self-control. A controlled man is a dead man. Whether you are controlled by others or by yourself does not make much difference.
My sannyas is spontaneity, living moment to moment without any prefabricated discipline, living with the unknown, not exactly knowing where you are going – because if you know already where you are going you are dead. Then life runs in a mechanical way. A life should be a flow from the known toward the unknown. One should be dying each moment to the known so the unknown can penetrate you. And only the unknown liberates.
Discipline can never be of the unknown. Discipline has to be of the mind. The mind is your past. All that you have learned, all that you have been conditioned for, all that you have experienced, all that you have thought about – this is your mind. Out of this mind comes planning for the future. That planning for the future will be nothing but a repetition of the past. It comes out of the past; it cannot be anything else. Maybe a little modified here and there, decorated here and there, but there will be no radical revolution in it.
My sannyas is a radical revolution. By giving you sannyas, I give you freedom. I give you courage to live without any planning, to live without mind, to live without past. Of course it is dangerous, but life is dangerous. Only when you are dead, then there is no danger, then you are safe – safe in your grave. Safety never exists before that. If you want to be safe and secure and perfectly protected, insured against all dangers, then don’t enter into sannyas. Enter into your grave. Then don’t breathe, because breathing is dangerous. One day breathing is going to bring death to you. Breathing is dangerous.
Life exists in danger, pulsates in danger. Life exists in the ocean of death. It has to be dangerous; it cannot be safe and secure. You are not a rock. You are a flower; fragile, you are – in the morning laughing with the sun; by the evening, you are gone. How can life be secure? In its frailty, in its fragility, how can you even conceive of insurance? No, there is no insurance, there cannot be.
And one should not live by the philosophy the insurance companies go on propagating. One should live with the danger, with death hand in hand. Then tremendous dimensions open before you. Then God is revealed.