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I am in the desert. Where do you think I am? This is the desert. To live with unconscious people is to live in a desert. To live with people who are not blooming, flowering, is to live in a desert. It is a human desert – far more empty than any desert can ever be.

To become enlightened among unconscious people is to live in a desert. That is the fate of all the buddhas. I say one thing, you understand something else. Constant misinterpretation is bound to happen, because I talk from a totally different plane. I talk out of a fullness and you receive only through the mind. You receive only the words – and words cannot convey my message.

My message can be conveyed to you only if you really become committed, involved in the energy field that I am creating, if you really become a plant in my garden, if you allow me to destroy your ego – because that is how growth begins. The death of the ego is the beginning of growth. Just as the seed has to die in the soil, the ego has to die in the master. Once your ego is completely gone you are a beautiful tree, with much foliage, greenery, flowers, fragrance.

My effort is to make this desert a garden. And there is every possibility of succeeding, because people are getting ready. Hesitating, which is natural; waiting, thinking, which is natural. But you cannot be here long thinking and waiting; sooner or later the quantum leap…. You cannot go on misunderstanding me for long. If you just remain here, even if you misunderstand my words, I am working on you – not through the mind; I am playing on the instrument of your heart. Words are just to keep you engaged so that I can enter into your heart. Yes, the work of a master is like a thief.

There is a Zen story; Zen masters have loved it tremendously. When you come across it for the first time you will feel puzzled about the story – it is about a master thief.

A man was known as a master thief in Japan; he was well-known, famous, all over the country. And of course he was a master thief, so nobody had ever been able to catch hold of him. He was never caught red-handed – although everybody knew that he was the one who had stolen – he had been stealing even from the treasury of the king. And he was always leaving marks of his, so everybody would know who had been there. In fact, it had become the fashion to brag about it, if the master thief had thought you worthy to steal something from. It became an aristocratic bragging. People would brag, saying, “Last night the master thief has been to our house.”

But the man was getting older, and one day his young son said to him, “Now you are getting older, teach me your art.” The father said, “Then come with me tonight – because this is not something that can be taught. You can only imbibe the spirit of me; if you are intelligent enough you can catch it. I cannot teach it to you, but you can catch it. I cannot give it to you, but you can get it. We will see. You come tonight with me.”

Naturally the son was afraid – the first time. The wall was broken, they went into the palace. Even in his old age the father’s hands were like a surgeon’s, unwavering, unshaking, although he was becoming very old – with no fear, as if he was working in his own home, breaking the wall. He did not even look here and there he was so certain of his art. And the young man was trembling – it was a cold winter night and he was perspiring. But the father was doing everything silently.

Then the father entered into the house. The son followed, his knees trembling, and he was feeling he might fall any moment. He was losing all consciousness because the fear was such… if they were caught, then? The father was moving in the dark house as if it was his house and he knew everything about the house, and even in the dark he could move without stumbling against the furniture, against the doors. Making no noise at all, noiselessly, he reached into the innermost chamber of the palace. He opened a cupboard and told the son to go in and find whatsoever was valuable. The son entered it. The father locked the door, shouted, “A thief! A thief! Wake up!” and escaped through the hole that they had dug in the wall.

Now this was too much. The son could not understand it. Now he is locked in the cupboard, trembling, perspiring, and the whole house is awake, people are searching for the thief. “What kind of father is this? He has murdered me,” he thought. “And what kind of teaching is this?” This is the last thing he would have ever imagined: he has created a living nightmare for him. Now he is certain to be caught. And he has locked the door from the outside; he cannot even open the door and escape.

After one hour he reached home – the son – and the father was fast asleep and snoring. He threw aside his blanket and said, “What kind of nonsense is this?” The father said, “So you are back. No need to tell the whole story – you also go to sleep. Now you know the art, we need not discuss it.” But the son said, “I have to tell you the whole story, what happened.” The father said, “If you want to tell it you can, otherwise I don’t require it. Just that you have come is enough proof. Now from tomorrow night you start on your own. You have got the intelligence, the awareness that a thief needs. I am immensely happy with you.”

But the son was so overflowing, he wanted to relate the whole thing – he had done such a great job. He said, “Just listen, otherwise I will not be able to sleep at all. I am so excited. You almost killed me.” The father said, “It is hard, but that’s how a master has to act many times. Tell me the whole story. What happened?” He said, “Out of nowhere – not from my intellect, certainly not from my mind – this has happened.” The father said, “This is the key to all mastery in all the fields of life, whether you are a thief or a meditator, whether you are a lover or a scientist or a painter or a poet, it doesn’t matter. Whatsoever the field, this is the master key – that nothing happens from the head, everything happens from somewhere below. Call it intuition, call it no-mind, call it meditation – these are names, different names for the same thing. It has started functioning, I can see it on your face; I can see the aura around you. You are going to become a master thief. And remember through being a master thief I have attained to meditation. So remember: this is the way for you to attain meditation.”

The son said, “When I was standing inside that damned cupboard and people were searching for the thief, a woman servant came with a candle in her hand; I could see from the keyhole. Something from nowhere… I started making noises as if I was a cat – and I have never done it before. The woman servant, thinking that there was a cat in the cupboard, unlocked it. As she unlocked it – I don’t know how I did it and who did it – it happened! I blew the candle out, pushed the woman away, and ran. People followed me – the whole house was awake, the neighborhood was awake. And they were coming closer and closer and I was on the verge of being caught. Then suddenly I came across a well. I saw a rock just by the side of the well – I don’t believe that I have that much strength to pick that rock up now, but it happened.” When you are in such situations your whole energy becomes available to you. You don’t live only on the superficial level. When life is at stake, your whole energy becomes available. “I moved the rock, picked up the rock – I cannot believe that I could even shake it now – and threw it in the well, then ran away. The noise, the sound of the rock falling in the well… and all the people who were following me stopped following me. They surrounded the well; they thought I had jumped into the well. That’s how I am back home.” The father said, “Now you can go to sleep. I am finished. Never ask me anything again. Now you start on your own.”

The work of a master is a difficult work. He has to shout from the peaks, and you are crawling in the dark valleys of life. You are living in your graves, and he has to shout from eternal life. Misunderstanding is natural; because of that misunderstanding every buddha lives in a desert.

A couple were applying for a marriage license. “Your name?” “Ole Olson.” “And yours?” “Lena Olson.” “Any connection?” The bride blushed. “Only once. He jumped me.”

“Any connection?” and the woman’s mind immediately interprets it in her own way, the only way she can.

Monsieur Foucard was visiting London for the first time. While walking about he felt nature calling and looked around for a public latrine like those in Paris. He could not find one and, in desperation, stepped into a dark building entrance. Immediately a bobby tapped him from behind, “You can’t do that here, you know.” Later he tried to go behind a tree, but another bobby stopped him. In a few minutes he was again prevented by a policeman. Finally he noticed a shingle: “Dr. Dingley, Urologist.” Dashing into the office, Foucard said, “Doctor, I cannot – how you say? – relieve myself.” The doctor handed him a bottle and told him to step behind the screen. In a few seconds the Frenchman cried, “Doctor, another container, s’il vous plait.” The doctor handed him one, and in a few minutes had to repeat the process. When the now happy Frenchman stepped out, the doctor asked, “My good man, who told you that you could not relieve yourself?” “Ze entire London Police Department.”

It is natural. I speak from one world, you listen from a different world. Between me and you there is a great desert. If you allow, it can become a garden – but only if you allow; it cannot be imposed on you. You cannot be forced; great things never happen through enforcement. You cannot be regimented, you cannot be ordered, commanded. All commandments have failed.

Religion has not succeeded because the priests have been ordering people: “Do this, don’t do that.” I cannot say to you: “Do this, don’t do that.” I can only relate my understanding to you. I can open my heart. I can go on playing on my flute. If you become enchanted by it – yes enchanted is the word – if you become allured by it, if you become completely oblivious to yourself, your past, your mind, your ideas, your prejudices, your upbringing, if my presence can help you to unburden, your seed will fall in the soil.

The soil is ready, the spring has come. Now it is up to you – it is all up to you. A little courage, and the desert can be transformed into a garden.