Sitting with you in discourse and hearing you talk about enlightenment and silence, I feel immensely blessed, sometimes almost touching this space of coming home, and silence comes to my mind.
But as soon as you leave through the door and the music stops, immediately the chattering inside starts again. For me it is much more difficult to become silent when I am meditating alone, but so easy in your presence.
Is this natural in the relationship between a master and a disciple?
It is very natural. Being in the presence of a master, silence happens on its own accord. Just as in the deep Himalayas, where the snow is eternal and the silence almost ancient…just sitting there under a tree, you start feeling, falling in tune with the immensity that surrounds you.
To be in the presence of the master is even more deep-going. Because what is the meaning of being in the presence of the master? It is being with someone you love, someone you trust; someone with whom you are ready to go into the unknown. Being in this climate, you forget your trivial matters; and forgetting comes easy, not by your effort.
The master is silent and silence is contagious.
His heart slowly, slowly brings you also into a synchronicity. You start beating with his heart, in the same rhythm.
This is a beautiful experience in itself, but it is only a lesson on the path; it simply gives you a glimpse. Silence has to come to you in your aloneness, then it is your own. Otherwise, silence in the Himalayas belongs to the Himalayas; you are simply overwhelmed. And the silence in the presence of the master belongs to the master; you are simply touched. That’s why, as soon as you are left alone to yourself, your old mind is back; it has just been waiting by the side. It comes with a vengeance.
You have to understand one thing: that the presence of the master simply gives you an indication that you are capable of silence, that mind is not your master. That it is not an impossibility; that you can have a little taste of it. Whilst being alone, remember it: that the mind is just a servant mechanism.
Watch it; it is very ancient, and your silence is very new. Your silence is almost like a roseflower and your chattering mind is like a rock, very ancient, very old. It can crush the roseflower at any moment unless you are aware, unless you learn one lesson – that mind may go on, yakkety-yak, chattering, but you should not become part of it.
Certainly you are not the mind, just as you are not the body. You are within the body, within the mind, but your center is separate from the cyclone. It has a totally different quality to it. Silence, stillness is just natural to it; it is its flowering.
We have got mixed up. Being too close to the mind, working twenty-four hours with the mechanism, you have forgotten the distinction.