065

There is no need to remember what I say. Words are not important at all.

You are not students here. There is going to be no examination. You are not required to remember my words.

Just imbibe me, the spirit of the place, the taste of my being. Let my silence reach you. If you forget the words it is perfectly okay. They have to be forgotten, otherwise they will clutter your mind.

I am not here to give you more information. I am here to give you transformation.

For transformation, memory is not a question, so don’t be worried. Many people become worried. “We go on forgetting what you say.”

You are still thinking you are in a university or in a school or a college, and you will be examined later on and you will have to reproduce it. Nothing has to be reproduced; nobody is going to ask anything. At least I am never going to ask you any questions.

I use words to convey silence. I use words to keep your mind occupied so that there can be a heart-to-heart communion. The mind becomes occupied with the words, and like a thief I can enter your heart. I have my own devices. I tell you a joke, you start laughing, you open your mouth – and I am in!

A joke for you…

Sol and Abe, two eighty-five-year-old widowers, were sitting on a park bench in St. Petersburg, Florida. Sol was telling Abe about a local gal that he had dated the night before. “What did you do?” asked Abe. “We checked into a motel, got in bed, and I sang ‘Those were the Days.’”

“That sounds like a great evening,” said Abe. “Do you mind if I take her out tonight?” “Sure, go ahead.” The next day, Sol said, “How did it go last night?” “Fine.” “What did you do?” “Well, we got a motel room and got into bed. I couldn’t remember the song, so I screwed her.”

Enough for today.