Take the Master's Heart
by Chariji, August 29, 2003, East Durham, New York, USA
I wish to reveal a secret. I often do. I'm always doing it but nobody appreciates it, because so long as you don't reveal it people want it, you know. You say, "Oh, I ain't going to show it to you." And kid or old guy they say [shrugs] that sort of thing. My only secret is: I never surrendered to my Master. Now as the old British would say, "Put that in your pipe and smoke it." What they mean is try to make some meaning out of it. What happened? And I tell you one hundred percent truthfully that I never surrendered to my Master. Then how did I get here?
Would you like to find out? "Yes!" [audience] No, I mean, by yourself. I mean it's a nice adventure. It's like one of these trails where you keep leaving - what do you call them; no, no, what do the spies leave behind? Trails, clues. We can play a game of clues you know, and you go around, and hop around and find it. Yesterday ... you know, I'm fond of GPS [Global Positioning System]. I saw a GPS advertisement where the GPS is programmed in such a way that you have to go treasure hunting with it. There's no treasure, but you bury something somewhere and leave a trail of way-points and flags and what not. And you use your GPS to figure out where it is. And when you get there, you realise you paid $999.99 (it's amazing how we pay $999 dollars without thinking about it and remember the ninety-nine cents that was added on to it) and you find that was a game. All life is a game like that. We pay expensive money for finding nothing at the end of it.
Sahaj Marg is such a journey. Because Babuji has said very truthfully, very honestly, very openly, very clearly, that Reality is nothing. I mean if you think of it, simplicity has nothing about it. It's simple because there's nothing to it. All the glamour and the glitter that we add to life is fooling ourselves, isn't it. We want to make things attractive, glamorous, something which we will crave, which we will covet. I mean a great deal of industries run on these human, shall we say, weaknesses: the cosmetic industry, the jewelry industry, the clothing industry, no? Fall fashions, I think fashions fall and we fall.
Well what is the secret of secrets? I took my Master hundred percent. I had no reservations. Like, you know, when Caesar fell, when he landed, and it would have been construed as a bad omen by his soldiers, but he said, "Veni, vidi, vici." I came, I saw, I conquered. And he grasped a handful of that soil and said, "Hail Caesar!" or whatever he said, you know. And the whole crowd responded, banged their hands on their chest on their armour, and there he was - Caesar!
So the secret is, take that old guy, grab him and hold him hard. Don't let him surrender, or let him try to get away from you. Hold him. It's like fishing. I mean no fish wants to be caught - and there you are with your waders and your expensive equipment and thousand dollar rod and reel, and flies at the end of it. The fish doesn't care a damn for your thousand dollar rods and reels and your waders, and your expensive car in which you came driving all the way. It likes that little fish, that tiddly little fish. That is the fish. And what is the fish that you have to, you know, [gestures as if dangling a bait] in front of the old guy, what is it? [Abhyasis say: "The heart."]
As Babuji said, that is all there is to it. You can do like this [makes a fist], and say, "I will not surrender." A fist. Or, "I surrender, Master. Take my heart," you know. I didn't do any of these things. I took his. I think my Master was a bit, shall we say, flabbergasted that here was a guy who stole his heart without his knowing it. I'm not joking. This is a very serious talk. I try to give a few punch lines, make you laugh because otherwise you nasty little fellows, you don't accept, you know. You say, "Oh this is too serious, Chari. How can I go and get the Master? If I took him, what would the others do?" I mean silly things like this. You are all so kind to others without being kind to yourself - wonderful democracy, wonderful sharing. "Hey, but Chari," I can hear, you know, Dave Bolevice coming: "If I took Babuji, what would others do?" Well, try it. When you eat a sandwich you don't think of anybody else, do you? You go and grab it, hmm?
I remember I was in Cleveland, and I bought some pizza, eight or nine of them at $12.50 each. After the sitting I had some time, I went for a walk. There was this Italian pizzeria, there was this old fat Italian lady who refused to cut it up you know. She said, "Eight slices." I said, 'Sixteen." "I will not cut my pizza!" I said, "But my dear, it has to be cut." "I will not cut!" I said, "Okay, compromise! How much will you cut?" "Eight! No more." I said, "Come on, be a darling - twelve!" She looked at me, you know, very suspiciously. I think the darling got her. And she did give me twelve slices per pizza. Now twelve into eight, ninety-six pieces of pizza were on the table. I had to give another sitting, because you know, clamorous group of abhyasis, and they said, "Chari, but we have time for another sitting." I said, "Okay." You know what happened? The pizzas disappeared. There was not a tiny bit of even olive left on the table. That's how you should take.
I remember once in Denmark, there was Babuji, there was myself. We had, I mean, he gave the satsangh at nine o'clock. I was giving individual sittings. At twelve o'clock somebody came - two people, and he said, "You give this sitting and I will give this sitting." And it so happened, coincidentally, accidentally, whatever it is, we both ended up at five past one; both very hungry. And just before the sitting, I had seen two huge stainless steel tureens, you know, the beautiful Danish vessels, full of Babuji's favourite mushroom soup. So Babuji said in Hindi, "You must be hungry." I said, "Well you remember my hunger when you are hungry." So we both had a laugh, and when we went, lunch had been finished and there was not a leaf of grass, not a drop of soup in anything. So we just grinned and went into the bedroom and prepared his hookah. I had a smoke myself, and we waited for dinner. So taking is our privilege.
When we talk of surrendering, we have all these hang-ups about slavery and Master and myself and how can I surrender; what about my entity and where the hell does it go when I surrender? Well, what happens when you surrender? You're still there, isn't it? Even after surrender you're very much there. Not as "I" am there, but "it" is there. And the "it", He knows, what it is. But when you take, you have the pride of possession, of acquisition, and if I may say so, of having slipped you know, a sort of pillowcase over his head while he wasn't looking, and suddenly he is there, flapping around like a caught fish, and you say, "Hey! Who is the Master, you or I?"
So I suggest you people try it. And I bet, you know, the Master is also as slippery as a fish, and the bigger the fish is, the more difficult it is to catch.
You know, I was once reading a book on fishing and a huge trout, sometimes fourteen-pounder, fifteen-pounder, you get the blighter on your fly ... , and then you have to let him run, give him the reel as they say, you know. You don't try to pull him in; he'll break the reel and the rod. Let him run, then pull him in slowly. Let him run again, when he wants. He'll go and hide under a rock. Pull him in slowly. Again he will run. But in this running and running and running, he loses his breath. Ultimately, by four o'clock in the evening when you are dead tired and your arm is aching, and you feel why the hell did I come into this stream to fish for trout, you just wind it up and there's your nineteen-pounder. You can go home and brag, I caught a fish that big.
It's as good as that as, shall I say, proud feeling that I did catch the biggest fish in the ocean. This is not Hemingway's fish, which other fish stole while he was bringing it in. This is my fish, which I caught and by Jove, I'm still holding on to it. Try it. I wish you all success.