Thursday, 17 March 2016

TO ENJOY THE BLISS OF EXISTENCE IS SAMADHI

This is the difference between spiritual joy and worldly joys. THE BLISS OF SAMADHI IS THE BLISS OF SIMPLY EXISTING. No desire, no longing or craving, is connected with it. It is simply the 'joy of being'.

Therefore Shiva speaks of the 'bliss of existence', lokananda. That you are -- that in itself is a great bliss!......

Therefore, all meditation is a quest to become pure. When you forget the body, forget the mind, then you will begin to attain the joy of existence, the bliss of Samadhi. 

Just try to do one thing: try to forget the body and the mind for some time. As soon as they are forgotten you begin to remember the soul. 

As long as you are aware of body and mind you cannot remember the soul. The mind and body are on the periphery, whereas the soul is at the center. You cannot look at both of them at the same time……

“ TO ENJOY THE BLISS OF EXISTENCE IS SAMADHI.

When you have reached the self and are firmly established in it, you have reached the most profound state of existence. Existence is at its greatest density at this point, for everything is created out of here. Your center is not only your center but the center of all creation.

We are separated only at the circumference. 'You' and 'I' are separations of the body. As we leave the body and turn within, the distance gets smaller and smaller. 

The day you know the soul you will also have known God. The day you know your own self you will know the self of all creation, because at the center all is one. Distances only exist at the periphery.

Shiva says: By attaining this existence within one's self, the joy of Samadhi is attained.

Samadhi-sukham, the 'bliss of Samadhi'; these words should be understood. 

You have known many joys: the joy of a good dinner, the joy of good health and well-being. When you quench your thirst or enjoy sex -- such bodily joys you know fully, but understand well that all these joys carry complementary sorrows with them. 

If you are not thirsty, water will bring no joy. If you are prepared to undergo the torment of thirst, only then will you enjoy drinking water. The affliction, the agony, comes first and is long; the ensuing joy is only momentary. As soon as the water slides down the throat the thirst is quenched. The same is true with food. The more you suffer the pangs of hunger, the tastier is the food.

This is the irony of life; the people who are tormented by hunger, who could really enjoy the pleasures of eating, have nothing to eat. Those who do not know what hunger is, have plenty to eat, but they cannot enjoy their food; on the contrary, it is a source of distress for them.

As long as there is thirst in you, water can quench it; but you can live a kind of life in which you never feel thirsty; do not go in the sun, do no manual work, stay at home and relax and you will not feel the thirst. But then you will find no joy in drinking water. He who toils all day, enjoys the bliss of a good night's rest. 

This is ironical: if you want to enjoy the pleasure of a good night's sleep you have to work like a labourer all day. The trouble is that you want to spend your days like an emperor and your nights like a labourer.

In the external world, in the world of objects, joy and sorrow are intrinsically connected; therefore, the day you acquire a mansion, sleep will desert you. The day you obtain a feather bed you will find yourself tossing in your sleep all night. 

Look at the labourer; he sleeps under a tree on top of stones and pebbles. He sleeps like a log. Mosquitos bite him; he is so hot that his body is soaked with perspiration, but he is oblivious to it all. He has gone through such intense misery all through the day that he has earned the joy that he will have in the night.

We have to pay for our joy and comfort with toil and troubles in this world. Here each joy is connected with an equivalent sorrow. And human being is entangled in one dilemma: he wants to keep the joy and get rid of the sorrow. But this is impossible. We have been trying for thousands of years that the sorrow should be eliminated and the joy should be saved. But we have not been successful in our efforts. The sorrow is certainly eliminated, but at the same time the joy is reduced proportionately. We resent sorrow and desire joy. Hence the problem.

What is the meaning of the 'joy of Samadhi'? That which has no sorrow attached to it. The bliss of Samadhi is not quenching any thirst, it is not filling an empty stomach, nor is it the weariness after a hard day's work. 

The bliss of Samadhi is not connected with sorrow and toil. This is the difference between spiritual joy and worldly joys. THE BLISS OF SAMADHI IS THE BLISS OF SIMPLY EXISTING. No desire, no longing or craving, is connected with it. It is simply the 'joy of being'.

Therefore Shiva speaks of the 'bliss of existence', lokananda. That you are -- that in itself is a great bliss! 

It has nothing to do with desires and pain etc. Remember, the soul suffers from no hunger and no thirst; hence the question of hunger and thirst and the pleasure gained out of their satiation does not arise. 

All thirsts and hungers belong to the body, so when a person desires the pleasures of the body he should also be prepared for the pains. The more he is prepared to go through the pains and suffering, the more happiness he attains. The joy of the soul is the purest of joys. There is no place for sorrow here. But this occurs only at the center. At the circumference you are the body.

The body is the periphery. It is the surrounding wall of your vessel; it is not you. It is your outer circle. At the center you are the soul, and it is here that a completely new kind of joy unfolds itself. Here the joy is the joy of being -- just being. 

There is no peak of happiness and abyss of misery here: no ups and downs; no gain or loss, no night or day, no toil or rest. Only you are there. There you become eternal, and this state of being eternal is filled with joy. It is overflowing. Its juice never dries up. Therefore saints call it 'eternal', everlasting, always new.

Kabir says: the juice of nectar flows incessantly unhindered, without any variation. It rains in this world, too, but the rains must be preceded by heat.

When the summer heat reaches its peak -- when there are cracks in the earth, when the trees start wailing, when the heat becomes unbearable all over -- then the rains come. 

We may ask: Why this absurd law? Why can there not be rains without all this suffering? But then we have to understand the whole system of nature, the mathematics of nature. 

The clouds are formed only when the heat becomes suffocating, for water then turns into vapour. There will be no rains if there is no evaporation. The vapour rises and forms clouds, and when the clouds are over-saturated -- so much that they can't help showering, it starts raining. So unbearable heat is prerequisite for a good rainy season.

In the world of the soul there are no opposites, no duality. 

Therefore it is referred to as 'non-dual' or indivisible. Here there is only one, not two. But then it becomes difficult for you to understand what kind of joy this is, for you know of no joy without its ensuing pain.[……]

The pleasure of Samadhi is entirely different. You do not have to pay the price for it, for what you set out to find is present now -- at this very moment. 

It is not somewhere in the future, so that you have to sat out on a quest and toil and labour. It is present here and now. You possess it already. This treasure is your birth right, you don't have to pay the price of suffering in order to get it. In that case one wonders, what would be it like?

Whatever joy you have known cannot compare with, or even give you an inkling, of this joy, for all your joys are mixed with sorrows. 

All the nectar you have known has been mixed with poison. With the body this is bound to be; birth and death, nectar and poison are side by side. Each worldly joy carries its counterpart of pain. But the soul is only immortal. There is no death for the soul; it is eternal. There are no opposites; there is only existence, pure existence.

Perhaps, if you could visualize your physical pleasures without their pain and bitterness, just drop the bitter taste lingering in your mouth and you might be able to imagine this happiness or something like it; but this would be only a glimpse. It cannot give you a clear picture. The circumference can only give you a glimpse. No matter how much you contemplate, you cannot imagine or conceptualize that which you have never experienced. You have to experience it first.

These sutras are invaluable. Be filled with wonder. Turn towards the self. Become centered in your being so that great energy will be at your disposal. 

Let life be yours -- the supreme life. Attain self-knowledge through intelligence -- through awareness, the supreme awareness -- and by breaking through your slumber you shall enjoy the bliss of existence. The bliss of samadhi is yours for the asking.[….]

Therefore, all meditation is a quest to become pure. When you forget the body, forget the mind, then you will begin to attain the joy of existence, the bliss of samadhi. 

Just try to do one thing: try to forget the body and the mind for some time. As soon as they are forgotten you begin to remember the soul. As long as you are aware of body and mind you cannot remember the soul. 

The mind and body are on the periphery, whereas the soul is at the center. You cannot look at both of them at the same time.

In this meditation camp if you could forget the body and mind for a little while you will gain the taste of the bliss of Samadhi. 

Once you get the taste, that is enough. Your life will take a different turn. It is the initial taste that is difficult. Once you know, once you have turned within and seen, then you know the trick. Then whenever you turn you will see. All the effort is needed in this initial turning in.

Once the key is in your hands, you are the master. Then you can taste this pleasure at will. You may wander fearlessly in the world now, and nobody can steal your treasure. 

Wherever you are, you may be a shopkeeper attending your customer, this bliss is with you and you experience it. 

One thing will start happening: you will stop seeking worldly pleasures. When the supreme joy is attained who cares about trivial pleasure? When diamonds and rubies are in your hands who will hold on to colored stones? They will drop by themselves; you need not renounce them.

Who has renounced, Mahavir or you, Buddha or you? You have renounced, for you hold on to rubbish. You have discarded the joy of samadhi in favor of the anxiety-ridden affairs of the periphery, and what have you got in exchange for your bliss is so flimsy. So coarse and crude! So stale and dirty!

The worldly man is a great renunciate, but he thinks the sannyasin is the renunciate. In fact, worldly men look at sannyasins with pity: "Poor things, they have left everything. They have missed all of life's pleasures."

They revere sannyasins and deep down pity them, too: "Poor things! They have renounced everything without enjoying anything. At least some things they should have enjoyed!" 

But worldly man have no ideas whom they are talking about. The sannyasin has experienced the greatest enjoyment. He has been invited by the vast existence to partake of the greatest of all enjoyments.

I do not ask you to give up anything. I only ask you to know, to taste. This very taste then will slowly displace all that is useless and trivial in your life. The useless just falls away; it needs to be renounced.
Enough for today.”

OSHO
The Great Path , Chapter 3 - Maxims of Yoga: A sense of wonder (13 September 1974 am in Chuang Tzu Auditorium. Translation from the Hindi series : Shiva Sutra. )

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