Monthly Archives: August 2012

TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT MEDITATION IS a contradiction in terms. It is something which you can have, which you can be, but by its very nature you cannot say what it is. Still, efforts have been made to convey it in some way. Even if only a fragmentary, partial understanding arises out of it, that is more than one can expect. But even that partial understanding of meditation can become a seed. Much depends on how you listen. If you only hear, then even a fragment cannot be conveyed to you, but if you listen.… Try to understand the difference between the two.
Hearing is mechanical. You have ears, you can hear. If you are getting deaf then a mechanical aid can help you to hear. Your ears are nothing but a certain mechanism to receive sounds. Hearing is very simple: Animals hear, anybody who has ears is capable of hearing—but listening is a far higher stage.
Listening means: When you are hearing, you are only hearing and not doing anything else—no other thoughts in your mind, no clouds passing in your inner sky—so whatever is being said reaches you, as it is being said. There is no interference from your mind; it is not interpreted by you, by your prejudices; not clouded by anything that, right now, is passing within you—because all these are distortions.
Ordinarily it is not difficult; you go on managing just by hearing, because the things you are hearing concern common objects. If I say something about the house, the door, the tree, the bird, there is no problem. These are common objects; there is no need of listening. But there is a need to listen when we are talking about something like meditation, which is not an object at all; it is a subjective state. We can only indicate it. You have to be very attentive and alert—then there is a possibility that some meaning reaches you.
Even if a little understanding arises in you, it is more than enough, because understanding has its own way of growing. If just a little bit of understanding falls in the right place, in the heart, it starts growing of its own accord.
First try to understand the word “meditation.” It is not the right word for the state about which any authentic seeker is bound to be concerned. So I would like to tell you something about a few words. In Sanskrit we have a special word for meditation, the word is dhyana. In no other language does a parallel word exist; the word is untranslatable. It has been recognized for two thousand years that this word is untranslatable for the simple reason that in no other language have people tried it or experienced the state that it denotes; so those languages don’t have the word.
A word is needed only when there is something to say, something to designate. In English there are three words: the first is concentration. I have seen many books written by very well-meaning people, but not people who have experienced meditation. They go on using the word “concentration” for dhyana—dhyana is not concentration. Concentration simply means your mind focused on one point; it is a state of mind. Ordinarily the mind is continuously moving, but if it continuously moves you cannot work with the mind on a certain subject.
For example, in science concentration is needed; without concentration there is no possibility of science. It is not surprising that science has not evolved in the East—I see these deep inner connections—because concentration was never valued. For religiousness something else is needed, not concentration.
Concentration is mind focused on one point. It has its utility, because then you can go deeper and deeper into a certain object. That’s what science goes on doing: finding out more and more about the objective world. A person with a mind that is continuously roaming around cannot be a scientist.
The whole art of the scientist is to be capable of forgetting the whole world and putting your whole consciousness on just one thing. And when the whole consciousness is poured into one thing, then it is almost like concentrating sun rays through a lens: Then you can create fire. Those rays themselves cannot create fire because they are diffused; they are going farther away from each other. Their movement is just the opposite of concentration. Concentration means rays coming together, meeting on one point; and when so many rays meet on one point they have enough energy to create fire.
Consciousness has the same quality: Concentrate it, and you can penetrate deeper into the mysteries of objects. Continue reading →