If the whole book is open, you will just be the day and no night, just the summer and no winter. Then where will you rest and where will you center yourself and where will you take refuge? Where will you move when the world is too much with you? Where will you go to pray and meditate? No, half and half is perfect. Let half of your book be open – open to everybody, available to everybody. Let the other half of your book be so secret that only rare guests are allowed there. Only rarely is somebody allowed to move within your temple. It should be so. If the crowd is coming in and going out, then the temple is no longer a temple. It may be a waiting room in an airport, but it cannot be a temple. Only rarely, very rarely, do you allow somebody to enter your self. That is what love is.
The second question:
Sometimes I wonder what I am doing here, sitting before you. And then suddenly you are too much for me, too much light and love. Yet I want to leave you. Can you explain this to me?
Yes. The question is bound to happen to everybody some day or other. What are you doing here? The question arises because my emphasis is not on doing; I am teaching you nondoing. The question is relevant. If I was teaching you something to do, the question wouldn’t arise because you would be occupied. If you go to somebody else – there are a thousand and one ashrams in the world where they will teach you to do something. They will not leave you unoccupied at all because they think that an unoccupied mind is the devil’s workshop. My understanding is totally, diametrically opposite. When you are absolutely empty, God fills you; when you are unoccupied, only then you are. While you are doing something, it is just on the periphery. All acts are on the periphery – good and bad, all. Be a sinner – you are on the periphery; be a saint – you are on the periphery. To do bad you have to come out of yourself; to do good you also have to come out of yourself.
Doing is outside, nondoing is inside. Nondoing is your private self, doing is your public self. I am not teaching you to become saints, otherwise it would have been very easy: don’t do this, do that; just change the periphery, change your acts. I am trying a totally different thing, a mutation – not a change from one part of the periphery to another part of the periphery, but a transmutation from the periphery to the center. The center is empty, it is absolutely void. There, you are. There, is being, not doing.
It is bound to happen to you sometimes: sitting before me you will wonder what you are doing here. Nothing – you are not doing anything here. You are learning how to just be, not to do – how not to do anything: no action, no movement…as if everything stops, time stops. And in that nonmoving moment you are in tune with the present, you are in tune with God.