I don’t teach you to renounce the world, I teach you to renounce the mind. And that’s what is meant by this immensely beautiful Zen saying:
Sitting silently, doing nothing,
The spring comes and the grass grows by itself.
All that is needed on your part is just to be absolutely silent And that’s exactly the meaning of the word upanishad: sitting silently, doing nothing, by the side of a master – that means by the side of spring – allowing the spring to possess you, to take you along with it like a tidal wave.
Your inner being is not something that has to be developed; it is already perfect. No spiritual development is needed, only it has to be discovered. And once silence falls over you, you start discovering it. It is the noise and the dust that the mind creates that goes on hindering the discovery.
The second question:
My parents are so disappointed in me, they worry all the time. They have made my being here possible, so how can I turn from them? What do I owe to my parents?
The trouble with the family is that children grow out of childhood, but parents never grow out of their parenthood! Man has not even yet learned that parenthood is not something that you have to cling to it forever. When the child is a grown-up person your parenthood is finished. The child needed it – he was helpless. He needed the mother, the father, their protection; but when the child can stand on his own, the parents have to learn how to withdraw from the life of the child. And because parents never withdraw from the life of the child they remain a constant anxiety to themselves and to the children. They destroy, they create guilt; they don’t help beyond a certain limit.
To be a parent is a great art. To give birth to children is nothing – any animal can do it; it is a natural, biological, instinctive process. To give birth to a child is nothing great, it is nothing special; it is very ordinary. But to be a parent is something extraordinary; very few people are really capable of being parents.