It is because of this factor Sigmund Freud chose the couch for the patient. It is not for the comfort of the patient, it is a strategy. Once the patient is horizontal he starts being irresponsible. And unless he feels utterly free to say things, he will not say unconscious things. If he remains responsible and vertical he will be continuously judging whether to say this or not to say this. He will be censoring.
When he is lying horizontal on the couch, and the psychoanalyst is hidden behind – you cannot see him – suddenly he is again like an animal. He has no responsibility. He starts babbling things to a stranger which he would never have said to anybody. He starts saying things which are deep in his unconscious; those unconscious things start surfacing. It is a strategy, a Freudian strategy, to make the patient utterly helpless like a child or like an animal.
Once you don’t feel responsible, you become natural. And psychotherapy has been of great help. It relaxes you. All that you have repressed surfaces, and from surfacing it evaporates. After going through psychoanalysis you become less burdened, you become more natural, you are more in harmony with nature and with yourself. That is the meaning of being healthy.
But this is going back, this is regression. This is going to the basement – what I was talking about the other day. There is another way to surpass, and that is going to the attic – not the way of Sigmund Freud, but the way of Buddha.
You can surpass yourself by being in contact consciously with nature. And that is the essence of wisdom – to be in harmony with nature, with the natural rhythm of the universe. And whenever you are in harmony with the natural rhythm of the universe you are a poet, you are a painter, you are a musician, you are a dancer.
Try it. Sometime sitting by the side of a tree, fall in tune consciously. Become one with nature, let boundaries dissolve. Become the tree, become the grass, become the wind – and suddenly you will see, something that has never happened to you is happening. Your eyes are becoming psychedelic – trees are greener than they have ever been, and roses are rosier, and everything seems to be luminous. And suddenly you want to sing a song, not knowing from where it comes. Your feet are ready to dance; you can feel the dance murmuring inside your veins. You can hear the sound of music within and without. This is the state of creativity. This can be called the basic quality – being in harmony with nature, being in tune with life, with the universe.
Lao Tzu has given it a beautiful name, wei wu wei, action through inaction. You can call it creative quietude – a process that combines within a single individual two seeming incompatibles: supreme activity and supreme relaxation.
That’s the paradox of creativity. If you see a painter painting, certainly he is active, utterly active, madly active; he is all action. Or you see a dancer dancing; he is all action. But still, deep down there is no actor, no doer; there is all silence. Hence I called creativity the state of paradox. All beautiful states are paradoxical. The higher you go, the deeper you go into the paradox of reality.