“Just wait until a train comes along,” said the woman when the builder arrived for his inspection. “Why, it nearly shakes me out of bed. Just lie down there. You will see.”
The builder had just stretched himself out on the bed when the woman’s husband came home.
“What are you doing on my wife’s bed?” the husband demanded.
The terrified builder shook like a leaf. “Would you believe I am waiting for a train?” he said.
There are a thousand and one situations where life comes in its total illogicalness. Suddenly your logical mind stops, it cannot function. If you watch life you will find you act illogically every day. And if you insist too much on logic then by and by you will get paralyzed; by and by you will be thrown away from life; by and by you will feel a certain deadness settling in you. One day or other this situation has to explode – the division of either–or breaks down.
Division, as such, is false. Nothing is divided in life. Only in your head is there division; only in your head are there clear-cut boundaries. It is as if you have made a small clearing in a forest – clean, with a boundary wall, with a lawn, with a few rosebushes, and everything perfectly in order. But beyond the boundary the forest is there, waiting. If you don’t care about your garden for a few days, the forest will enter in. If you leave your garden untended, after a while the garden will disappear and the forest will be there. Logic is manmade, like an English garden – not even like a Zen Japanese garden, clean-cut.
Every day there is a difficulty. Mukta looks after my garden. She is my gardener, and she goes on cutting. I go on telling her, “Don’t cut! Let it be like a forest!” But what can she do? She hides that she is cutting from me and planning and managing because she cannot allow the garden to become a forest. It should be in boundaries.
The logical mind is like a small garden, manmade, and life is wild forest. Sooner or later you will come against life and then your mind will boggle, will fall down flat. Stretch your mind to the very extreme of logic and you will go mad.
It happened at an airport: Moskowitz met his business rival, Levinson, at the airport, and asked him with an elaborate pretense of casualness, “And where do you happen to be going, Levinson?”
Levinson just as casually responded, “Chicago.”
“Ah!” said Moskowitz, shaking his finger triumphantly. “Now I have caught you in a flatfooted lie. You tell me Chicago because you want me to think you are going to St. Louis, but I talked to your partner only this morning, and I happen to know you are going to Chicago, you liar!”