The Whole and Holy Circle at The Turiya Files

WHAT HAS TO BE REVERSED BY REFLECTION IS THE SELF-CONSCIOUS HEART, WHICH HAS TO DIRECT ITSELF TOWARDS THAT POINT WHERE THE FORMATIVE SPIRIT IS NOT YET MANIFEST. WITHIN OUR SIX-FOOT BODY WE MUST STRIVE FOR THE FORM WHICH EXISTED BEFORE THE LAYING DOWN OF HEAVEN AND EARTH. IF TODAY PEOPLE SIT AND MEDITATE ONLY ONE OR TWO HOURS, LOOKING ONLY AT THEIR OWN EGOS, AND CALL THIS REFLECTION, HOW CAN ANYTHING COME OF IT?

ONE SHOULD LOOK AT THE TIP OF ONE'S NOSE. BUT THIS DOES NOT MEAN THAT ONE SHOULD FASTEN ONE'S THOUGHTS TO THE TIP OF THE NOSE. NEITHER THAT, WHILE THE EYES ARE LOOKING AT THE TIP OF THE NOSE, THE THOUGHTS SHOULD BE CONCENTRATED ON THE YELLOW MIDDLE. WHEREVER THE EYE LOOKS, THE HEART IS DIRECTED ALSO. HOW CAN IT BE DIRECTED AT THE SAME TIME UPWARD AND DOWNWARD? ALL THAT MEANS CONFUSING THE FINGER WITH WHICH ONE POINTS TO THE MOON WITH THE MOON ITSELF.

WHAT THEN IS REALLY MEANT BY THIS? THE EXPRESSION 'TIP OF THE NOSE' IS CLEVERLY CHOSEN. THE NOSE MUST SERVE THE EYES AS A GUIDE-LINE. IF ONE IS NOT GUIDED BY THE NOSE, EITHER ONE OPENS WIDE THE EYES AND LOOKS INTO THE DISTANCE, SO THAT THE NOSE IS NOT SEEN, OR THE LIDS SHUT TOO MUCH, SO THAT THE EYES CLOSE, AND AGAIN THE NOSE IS NOT SEEN. BUT WHEN THE EYES ARE OPENED TOO WIDE, ONE MAKES THE MISTAKE OF DIRECTING THEM OUTWARD, WHEREBY ONE IS EASILY DISTRACTED. IF THEY ARE CLOSED TOO MUCH, ONE MAKES THE MISTAKE OF LETTING THEM TURN INWARD, WHEREBY ONE EASILY SINKS INTO A DREAMY REVERIE. ONLY WHEN THE EYELIDS ARE LOWERED PROPERLY HALFWAY IS THE TIP OF THE NOSE SEEN IN JUST THE RIGHT WAY. THEREFORE IT IS TAKEN AS A GUIDE-LINE. THE MAIN THING IS TO LOWER THE EYELIDS IN THE RIGHT WAY, AND THEN TO ALLOW THE LIGHT TO STREAM IN OF ITSELF; WITHOUT EFFORT, WANTING THE LIGHT TO STREAM IN CONCENTRATEDLY.

LOOKING AT THE TIP OF THE NOSE SERVES ONLY AS THE BEGINNING OF THE INNER CONCENTRATION, SO THAT THE EYES ARE BROUGHT INTO THE RIGHT DIRECTION FOR LOOKING, AND THEN ARE HELD TO THE GUIDE-LINE: AFTER THAT, ONE CAN LET IT BE.

ONE LOOKS WITH BOTH EYES AT THE TIP OF THE NOSE, SITS UPRIGHT AND IN A COMFORTABLE POSITION, AND HOLDS THE HEART TO THE CENTRE IN THE MIDST OF CONDITIONS. IT DOES NOT NECESSARILY MEAN THE MIDDLE OF THE HEAD. IT IS ONLY A MATTER OF FIXING ONE'S THINKING ON THE POINT WHICH LIES EXACTLY BETWEEN THE TWO EYES. THEN ALL IS WELL. THE LIGHT IS SOMETHING EXTREMELY MOBILE. WHEN ONE FIXES THE THOUGHT ON THE MID-POINT BETWEEN THE TWO EYES, THE LIGHT STREAMS IN OF ITS OWN ACCORD. IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO DIRECT THE ATTENTION ESPECIALLY TO THE CENTRAL CASTLE. IN THESE FEW WORDS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IS CONTAINED.

'THE CENTRE IN THE MIDST OF CONDITIONS' IS A VERY SUBTLE EXPRESSION. THE CENTRE IS OMNIPRESENT; EVERYTHING IS CONTAINED IN IT; IT IS CONNECTED WITH THE RELEASE OF THE WHOLE PROCESS OF CREATION.

FIXATING CONTEMPLATION IS INDISPENSABLE; IT ENSURES THE MAKING FAST OF THE ENLIGHTENMENT. ONLY ONE MUST NOT STAY SITTING RIGIDLY IF WORLDLY THOUGHTS COME UP, BUT ONE MUST EXAMINE WHERE THE THOUGHT IS, WHERE IT BEGAN, AND WHERE IT FADES OUT. NOTHING IS GAINED BY PUSHING REFLECTION FURTHER. ONE MUST BE CONTENT TO SEE WHERE THE THOUGHT AROSE, AND NOT SEEK BEYOND THE POINT OF ORIGIN; FOR TO FIND THE HEART (CONSCIOUSNESS, TO GET BEHIND CONSCIOUSNESS WITH CONSCIOUSNESS), THAT CANNOT BE DONE. TOGETHER WE WANT TO BRING THE STATES OF THE HEART TO REST, THAT IS TRUE CONTEMPLATION.

WHAT CONTRADICTS IT IS FALSE CONTEMPLATION. THAT LEADS TO NO GOAL. WHEN THE FLIGHT OF THE THOUGHTS KEEPS EXTENDING FURTHER, ONE SHOULD STOP AND BEGIN CONTEMPLATING. LET ONE CONTEMPLATE AND THEN START FIXATING AGAIN. THAT IS THE DOUBLE METHOD OF MAKING FAST THE ENLIGHTENMENT. IT MEANS THE CIRCULATION OF THE LIGHT. THE CIRCULATION IS FIXATION. THE LIGHT IS CONTEMPLATION FIXATION WITHOUT CONTEMPLATION IS CIRCULATION WITHOUT LIGHT CONTEMPLATION WITHOUT FIXATION IS LIGHT WITHOUT CIRCULATION! TAKE NOTE OF THAT!

It was dark when he left, and they gave him a lantern. 'Thank you, but I don't need it. Light or dark, it is all the same to me.'

Off he went, and soon someone collided with him and shouted, 'Why don't you look where you're going?'

The scriptures in the hands of people who don't know what meditation is are just like a lantern in the hands of a blind man - utterly useless. And the blind man cannot know whether the lantern is still lit or not. He will simply be carrying an unnecessary weight. In fact, not helpful at all - on the contrary, it can be a hindrance. If the blind man had been moving without the lantern he would have been more careful, more cautious. Because of the lantern in his hand, he must have been walking as if he had eyes, he must have put all caution aside.

That's what has happened to humanity at large. People have the Bible, the Koran, the Gita - these are lamps of immense beauty and light, but your eyes are blind. And the Gita is five thousand years old - the light went out long long ago. When Krishna died the light went out. So is the case with the Bible and the Koran and all the other holy scriptures of the world. When the Master dies, the light goes out.

But people go on carrying the scriptures, believing the scriptures, hoping that their life will remain full of light because they are carrying a message from a great Master. That message is nothing more than words; it is an unnecessary burden. If all the scriptures of the world disappear, man may become more cautious, may become more alert, may start looking for the source of light on his own. Because there will be nothing to lean on, he will have to learn to stand on his own feet.

Lung-t'an was once visited by Te-shan, who, seeking further and further elucidation, remained until it grew late. Lung-t'an finally said, 'The night deepens. Why don't you retire?'

Te-shan, taking his leave, raised the bamboo blind and went out. Seeing the intense darkness without, he returned and said, 'It is dark outside.'

Lung-t'an then lit a lantern and offered it to Te-shan. Just as Te-shan was about to take it, Lung-t'an abruptly blew it out. With this, Te-shan suddenly attained awakening, whereupon he bowed.

Te-shan said, 'Never after today shall I doubt the utterances of all the old Masters under heaven.'

The next day Lung-t'an went before the disciples and said, 'Within this group there is a man whose canine teeth are like sword trees, whose mouth resembles a bloody plate, and who won't turn his head even when given a blow with a stick. One day he will establish my Way on the top of a solitary mountain peak.'

Te-shan then took out his sutra commentaries and, in front of the meditation hall, raised a torch and said, 'Endless deep analysis is like placing a single hair in the emptiness of space; worldly power is like throwing one drop of water into an immense gorge.'

Now, if you don't have eyes even light is useless. A lantern in your hands is nothing, utterly nothing. But if you have eyes, even blowing out a candle can become an experience of enlightenment. The question is of eyes.

This man Lung-t'an was visited by Te-shan. Lung-t'an is the Master, Te-shan is his disciple. Seeing the darkness outside, the disciple said to the Master, 'It is too dark.' The Master lit a candle and gave it to the disciple; and as he was going to take it, he blew it out.

Suddenly, all became dark again, more dark than it was before. And this abrupt blowing-out of the candle must have been a shock - unexpected. For a moment the disciple must have fallen into the interval between two thoughts. For a moment thinking disappeared and there was contemplation. For a moment there was utter silence. In that silence he could see the point.

The next day he burned all his scriptures. Now they were no longer needed; now he knew the truth through his own experience.

A little bit of experience is more valuable than mountains of knowledge. Just two small eyes are more valuable than the sun and the moon and all the stars. The whole point is that religion is an experience. It is not speculation, it is not continuous analysis, it is insight.

These sutras are of immense value because they give you the technique in the simplest terms possible. And the method is really simple - unless you are determined to make it complex.

The mind always turns simple things into complexities. Beware of that, because the mind cannot exist with the simple; it is not needed. If things are really simple, what is the need of the mind? The mind is needed only when things are complex. Then you have to depend on the mind because then the mind will find the way out of the riddle. But if there is no riddle, the mind is utterly useless; you can discard it. So the investment of the mind is in complexity.

Remember it - these sutras are very simple. Truth is always simple, utterly simple.

The English word 'contemplation' does not give the right idea of dhyana. In English there is no word which can translate the word dhyana.

There are three words available. One is 'concentration', which is very far-off, because concentration means effort, tension; a forced state, not a flowing spontaneous state. And 'dhyana' is a flowing spontaneity. There is no strain in it, so the word 'concentration' cannot be its translation.

Then the other word is 'contemplation'. But in English, contemplation gives the idea of thinking. When you say somebody is contemplating, you mean thinking about something.

Or the third word is 'meditation', but that too means thinking - to meditate upon something. Of these three words no word carries the meaning of dhyana. Dhyana means a state of no-thought, a state of silence, a state of being conscious, but without any content. The mirror is there but reflecting nothing, nothing whatsoever. Just like the mirror, the consciousness is there, but nothing is occupying it. That unoccupied awareness is dhyana.

Taoists use the word 'contemplation' to translate it. It is only because some word has to be used. So remember the meaning - it is not the meaning in the dictionaries. If you look into the dictionaries you will have a totally false idea of contemplation. In fact that is what THE SECRET OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER calls 'false contemplation'. False contemplation means thinking about something. It may be God - that's what Christians mean by contemplation - thinking about God, thinking about holy things, transcendental things. But things are things; whether they are holy or unholy makes no difference. And thinking is thinking; whether you think about sex or samadhi makes no difference.

A state of no-thought, an interval... And it is always happening, but you are not alert about it; otherwise there is no problem in it. One thought comes, then another comes, and between these two thoughts there is always a small gap. And that gap is the door to the divine, that gap is what is referred to as 'contemplation' in these sutras. If you look into that gap deeply, it starts becoming bigger and bigger.

The mind is like a road full of traffic; one car passes by, then another car passes by, and you become so concerned with the cars that you don't see the gap that is always there between two cars. Otherwise they would collide. They don't collide; something is there between them that keeps them separate. Your thoughts don't collide, they don't run over each other, into each other. They don't even overlap in any way. Each thought has its own boundary, each thought is definable, but the procession of thoughts is so fast, so speedy, that you cannot see the gap unless you are really waiting for it, searching for it.

Contemplation means changing the gestalt. Ordinarily we look at thoughts: one thought, another thought, another thought. When you change the gestalt you look at one interval, another interval, another interval. Your emphasis is no longer on the thoughts but on the interval.

For example, you are sitting here. I can look at you in two ways: either one person, another person, another person - my emphasis is on persons, I can count how many people there are - or I can forget about the persons and I can count the gaps between the persons, how many gaps are there.

This is the change of gestalt. If you count the gaps you will be surprised: persons become vague, you don't see them clearly because you are looking into the gaps, you are counting the gaps.

Standing by the side of the road some day, just count how many gaps pass by and you will be surprised: you don't see the colour of the cars, you don't see the make of the cars, you don't see the drivers and the passengers in the cars, but you do see gaps - one gap gone, another gap gone. You go on counting the gaps. Your gestalt has changed, it is different.

Contemplation is the change of gestalt; not jumping from one thought to another thought, but jumping from one gap to another gap. Slowly slowly you become very, very aware of the gaps.

And that is one of the greatest secrets of life, because it is through those gaps that you will fall into your own being, into your own centre.