If you don’t become enlightened, it is simply postponement. There is no hurry – you can become enlightened tomorrow or another life. But remember, unless you become enlightened you cannot get out of your misery, your tensions, your anguish, your meaninglessness. You cannot attain the splendor that is your inheritance.
It is better to do it quickly – this moment, without waiting; because you have been waiting for centuries. And the more you wait, the more you learn how to wait, the thicker and thicker your waiting becomes.
There is no need to wait, not even for a single moment. In this beautiful existence…
And today, this moment, it is especially beautiful. All around the dance of the rain, the commentaries of the bamboos and a silent gathering of thousands of buddhas…
Don’t miss it.
Maneesha has asked,
I wonder, have I understood your words? Have I understood your silence? I only know that your words sound less like words these days; and that your silence feels like our silence – and that silence feels like the most familiar, the most natural of spaces.
Maneesha, I don’t have a staff in my hand, otherwise I would have given you three beats. Instead, Nivedano, give three beats!
Those three beats are “yes” three times.
Before the rain stops I would like to share with these clouds, this rain, not only your silence but also your laughter. A silence without laughter is dead, and a laughter without silence is superficial. When silence and laughter are together… It is something phenomenal, something of tremendous importance. Just as you are silent, also share your laughter with the rain.
Brother Brian, Brother Boris, and Brother Billy, three young novice monks, are about to go through their final trial before becoming fully-fledged friars.
An old abbot leads them into a luxurious room and tells them to take off their gowns and tie a small bell to their organs.