"Emptiness"

 

How is it possible to erase myself?

    Unless I dissolve myself, how can the other unite with me? The other is created as a reaction to my ”I”. The louder I shout ”I”, the more forceful becomes the existence of the other. The other is the echo of ”I”.

    And what is ”I”? Have you ever thought calmly about it? Is it in your leg or your hand, in your head or your heart? Or is it just the ego?

    What and where is your ”I”, your ego? The feeling of it is there, yet it is to be found in no particular place. Sit quietly for a moment and search for that ”I”. You may be surprised, but in spite of an intense search you will not find your ”I” anywhere. When you search deeply inside you will realize there is no ”I”. As such, there is no ego. When there is the truth of the self the ”I” is not there.

    The well-revered monk Nagsen was sent for by the Emperor Malind, to grace his court. The messenger went to Nagsen and said, ”Monk Nagsen, the emperor wishes to see you. I have come to invite you.”

    Nagsen replied, ”If you want me to, I will come. But, pardon me, there is no person like Nagsen here. It’s only a name, only a temporary label.” 

    The courtier reported to the emperor that Nagsen was a very strange man: he had replied he would come, but had said that there was no such man as Nagsen there. The emperor was struck with wonder.

    Nagsen arrived on time, in the royal chariot, and the emperor received him at the gate. ”Monk Nagsen, I welcome you!” he exclaimed.

    Hearing this, the monk started to laugh. ”I accept your hospitality as Nagsen, but please remember there is nobody named Nagsen.”

    The emperor said, ”You are talking in riddles. If you are not you, then who is accepting my invitation? Who is replying to this welcome?”

 

    Nagsen looked behind him and asked, ”Isn’t this the chariot I came in?” ”Yes, it is one and the same.” ”Please remove the horses.” It was done.

    Pointing to the horses, the monk asked, ”Is this the chariot?” The emperor said, ”How can the horses be called a chariot?” At a sign from the monk, the horses were led away, and the poles used to tie the horses were removed. ”Are these poles your chariot?” ”Of course not, these are the poles and not the chariot.”

    The monk went on, ordering the removal of the parts one by one, and to each inquiry the emperor had to reply, ”This is not the chariot.” At last nothing remained. The monk asked, ”Where is your chariot now? To each and every item taken away you have said, ‘This is not the chariot.’ Then tell me, where is your chariot now?”

    The revelation startled the emperor. The monk continued. ”Do you follow me? The chariot was an assembly; it was a collection of certain things. The chariot had no being of its own. Please look inside. Where is your ego? Where is your ‘I’?”

    You will not find that ”I” anywhere. It is a manifestation of many energies; that is all. Think about each and every limb, about each and every aspect of yourself, and then eliminate everything, one by one. Ultimately, nothingness will remain. Love is born of that nothingness. That nothingness is God.

    In a certain village a man opened a fish shop with a big sign: ”Fresh Fish Sold Here.” The very first day a man came into the shop and read, ”Fresh Fish Sold Here”. He laughed. ”‘Fresh Fish’? Are stale fish sold anywhere? What is the point of writing ‘fresh’ fish?” The shopkeeper decided he was right; besides, ”fresh” gave the idea of ”stale” to the customers. He deleted ”fresh” from the signboard. The board now read, ”Fish Sold Here.” An old lady, visiting the shop the next day, read aloud, ”‘Fish Sold Here’? Do you also sell fish somewhere else?” ”Here” was erased. Now the board read, ”Fish Sold.” The third day yet another customer came to the shop and said ”‘Fish Sold’? Does anybody give fish for free?” The word ”Sold” was deleted. Only ”Fish” was left now. An aged man came and said to the shopkeeper, ”‘Fish’? A blind man, even at a distance, could tell from the smell that fish are sold here.” ”Fish” was removed. The board was now blank. A passer-by asked, ”Why a blank board?”

    The board was also removed. Nothing remained after the process of elimination; every word had been removed, one by one. And what was left behind was nothing, an emptiness.

    Love can only be born out of emptiness. Only a void is capable of merging with another void; only zero can unite totally with another zero. Not two individuals, but two vacuums can meet, because now there is no barrier. All else has walls; a vacuum has none.

    So the second thing to remember is that love is born when individuality vanishes, when ”I” and ”the other” are no more. Whatsoever remains then is everything, the limitless – but no ”I”. With that attainment, all barriers crumble and the onrush of the ever-ready Ganges takes place.