But this was okay for poets – nobody expects them to be very rational, scientific – but now even science says that this is happening in the labs: when you observe, the observed is no longer the same; the observer has participated in it and the quality changes. Now physicists say that atoms move in a different way when nobody is observing them. When you observe, they immediately change their movements. Just the same as when you are taking your bath: you are a different person; then suddenly you realize somebody is looking through the keyhole – you change. When the atom also feels that somebody has looked, it is no longer the same; it moves in a different way.
These were the boundaries: science was thought to be absolutely impersonal; are existed just in the middle of science and religion and was thought to be a partial participation; and religion was a total participation.
The poet looks at the flower – there are glimpses in which he is there no more, the flower is there no more. But these are only glimpses. For seconds there is a contact, and then they are again apart, then they fall apart. What happens when a mystic, a religious man, looks at the flower? The participation is total. It is not fragmentary. The knower and the known both dissolve; only energy vibrating between the two remains. Experience remains: the experiencer is no longer there, neither is the experienced. The polarities disappear, object and subject disappear, all boundaries are lost.
Religion is total participation. Poetry or art or painting is partial participation.
Science used to be no participation at all – this is no longer the case. Science has to come back nearer poetry, nearer religion. The boundaries are all confused now. Just fifty years ago, any man trained in the ways of science would have laughed at Patanjali, would have laughed very loudly at Shankara and Vedanta, would have thought deep down that these people have gone mad. Now, it is impossible to laugh at Patanjali. He is proving truer.
As science grows deeper, yoga seems to prove truer, more valid, because this has always been the standpoint of the yogi: that only one exists. The separation, the division of boundaries, is provisional – it is because of ignorance. It is needed; it is an absolutely necessary training. One has to pass through it, one has to suffer it and experience it – but one has to pass through it. It is not a home; it is just a passage. This world is a passage of separation, of a divorce.
If you pass through it and you start understanding the whole experience, the marriage comes nearer and nearer and nearer, and one day, suddenly, you are married, married to the whole – all separation disappears. And in that marriage is bliss. In this separation there is suffering because the separation is false. It exists only because you don’t understand. It exists in your misunderstanding. It is like a dream.
You are asleep: then you dream a thousand and one things, and in the morning they all disappear. And suddenly you start laughing at yourself. The whole thing seems to be so ridiculous. You cannot believe that it happened. You cannot believe that you were deceived by it that it was real. You cannot believe how it was possible that you got so enchanted by images floating in the mind, nothing but bubbles of thought, and how they looked – so solid, so substantial, so real.