And don’t ask, “From where am I to get a sword?” It has been asked, down the centuries. Whenever masters have said to their disciples, “If you meet me on the way, cut my head,” the disciples have asked, “But from where have I to get a sword?”
I will tell you a Sufi story:
Mulla Nasruddin has applied for a job on a ship. He is being interviewed, and the captain and the high officials of the company are asking questions. The captain asks, “If the waters are in a turmoil, and the wind is blowing very strong and there is a danger of the ship being upturned or swayed into a direction it does not want to go, what are you going to do?”
He said, “Simple, I will throw out an anchor.”
The captain said, “That’s right. But suppose another storm comes up; what are you going to do?
He said, “Nothing else; I will throw out another anchor.”
The captain said, “It is right, but suppose a third storm comes up. What are you going to do?”
He said, “The same! I will throw out an anchor.”
And the captain said, “But from where are you getting these anchors?”
And Mulla Nasruddin said, “From where are you getting these storms? From the same place!”
Just as the master is imagination, your sword is also an imagination. If the mind can provide you with one imagination, it is capable of providing you with the other thing – and perhaps happily, because you are going to kill the master. The mind is very happy when you are against the master – angry, resentful – and now he will be bursting with joy that you are going to kill the master. He will present you a beautiful sword immediately – just ask.
Both are imaginary, the master and the sword. And you have to go beyond imagination. So this must be the last barrier, and once there is nobody, nothingness opens up – you are connected with existence, you are connected with your reality.