The more I trust in meditation the more I feel my heart opening and vastly present. At the same time I lose knowledge about who I am, why I am here and for what. I can’t do anything about it except watch, cry, laugh, sing, giggle. Something is happening for which I have no name. It is just throbbing. The other night I woke up suddenly knowing, oh, I am just human, a human being. It sounds funny, but it’s been such a joy feeling so accepted. Would you please help me understand what is happening?
The question you have put is not coming from your mind; that’s why it looks a little strange. Mind is very clever – it knows how to ask a question. It does not know any answer as such.
Whenever such a thing happens to a meditator – which is bound to happen if you don’t stop before reaching your inner being – that you suddenly feel a change of climate; the questioning mind is no longer there and you are standing before the answer, it certainly feels very weird. You don’t have a question – what is this answer all about? Our very training is that the question should come first and then the answer.
But existence is absolutely, fortunately, uneducated. It brings the answer first and then you have to start questioning: What is happening? Where am I? You see things are happening: there are tears of joy, there is a song in the heart, there is a rejoicing which cannot be named but can certainly be experienced. And you are surrounded by all these mysteries without any explanation. One thing certainly you can see: that the knowledge about who I am, why I am here and for what, has completely disappeared. It is for the first time, so you are still looking for it. But trust me – you will never come to know.
I myself don’t know. Just think about these questions – “Who am I?” Do you think you can know it? The very process of knowing involves a duality between the knower and the known. And you are the knower, you can never be the known. It takes a little time to relax and accept the fact that “I am” without ever bothering about “who am I?”
Why am I here? Why are the trees here? And why is this whole sky with the stars here? Why is anything in this universe here? Because people could not relax in this innocence, they manufactured fictitious answers. “God made the world; that’s why it is here.” But they forgot that sooner or later somebody is going to ask, “Why is this God here?”
The ultimate – and the ultimate is the immediate – is simply here for no reason at all. The day you can accept it without any kind of effort you will find a tremendous opening, of a totally new vision and perception, in which everything is accepted.
The question is really a way of not accepting things as they are. First you want to know why they are here – you may not have thought that this urge to know why is a kind of mental scratching. The more you scratch, the better it feels, but finally it starts bleeding. In the beginning it gives a sweet feeling. You can try – scratch. But don’t scratch too much. That sweet feeling is leading you in a wrong direction.