Do you know what Michelangelo said? He said, “Jesus called me from the rock, and asked me, ‘Please, free me from this rock. I am encaged.’ I saw Jesus clearly in the rock. Just a little hammering is needed – a few chips here, a few chips there – and Jesus can be discovered.”
Exactly that is the work of a master. You come to him as a rock, but he goes on seeing in you something which you have not even imagined. He is dashing directly towards that which is your essential reality. He has to cut off pieces of rock here and there, and bring you to your real shape.
Books cannot do that. You have purchased those books; you cannot purchase me. You can manage to do anything to those books you want.
I never liked in my whole life to read a book from a library or from somebody else, for the simple reason that people go on doing nasty things to books. They will underline, they will make notes on the margin. You can do anything to a book; the book cannot say, “What are you doing to me?” A secondhand book is one of the most ugly phenomena in the world.
The book is absolutely in your hands. I am not in your hands; on the contrary, you are in my hands. That creates fear, that creates a trembling inside. That makes you alert that you are coming to a dangerous place – one step more and you may be gone, and then you will never be able to find yourself again.
The real work of the master is really murder: murder of that which you are not. The master takes away all that which is not really there, and strangely, gives you that which you have always been.
Fear is natural, it is a good sign. And when you fear someone, hatred arises – a natural consequence, a simple, logical process. The person is trying to destroy you. He is changing, transforming the way you think you are. He is killing what you think is most valuable in you. Hatred, extreme hatred…you began with extreme love, and you end up with extreme hate.
But you have to understand the whole process. This happens to everybody. People who come to me either come through reading my books or listening to their friends talk about me. They come here with a certain image of me, certain expectations of me. They don’t come clean, clear. And when they come here and they don’t find their expectations fulfilled, great hatred arises. But this is in a way natural to the state of sleep. Nothing is wrong with it; you just have to understand the process and you will be free of it.
You meet people who have gone a little ahead of you – and that’s one of the reasons for creating a commune. The gap between me and you may be too big, and you may not be able to just take a jump over the gap. The commune gives you a chance to jump in installments.
You meet somebody who is no longer a camel. He may not yet have become a lion, but certainly he is no longer a camel; he is in the process of transformation. That gives you courage that if the camel dies that does not mean your death. And in fact, with the death of the camel begins the birth of the lion.