विषय
You have a propensity to want things your way. You want everything to be your way. Right? You want to always win an argument, don’t you?
Do you ever argue to lose an argument? You want to win that argument. You want to be always right! You know you are not going to win the ultimate argument.
The day Death comes to get you, there will be no argument. And guess who’s going to win every single time? Every single time for every single human being that ever has been on the face of this Earth, it was Death that won. They’re gone. You won’t be able to have it “your way.” No way will you be able to have it your way; it’s not a happening thing, so wake up!
Because you’re not going to win the argument, “A few hours more, please, few minutes more, or this, that, that.” This is why it is heaven. You can experience. You can be. It’s going to happen. Don’t be sad. You weren’t sad when you were born. Were you? Maybe you were. Maybe that’s why you were crying. It’s not about sadness. Whatever you were, you were no more when you were born. And like I said a while ago; I said, “If you’re not here, you’re somewhere else!” But did you learn to trust? Did you learn to accept? That’s the big question. If you trusted, if you accepted every day, you will accept.
You’re not ready for it; nobody wants to talk about it. It’s going to happen. How do you prepare?
By accepting today. Everybody wants to know, “When will it happen?” Nobody can pinpoint unless you’ve got a death sentence. Even then, they can’t pinpoint. Because sometimes they do it and nothing happens.
Learn to accept. It’s okay! If it wasn’t okay, then don’t learn to accept. But it’s okay to accept.
Ultimately, the person who lives every day and admires every moment, cannot possibly have fear of death. Because he knows this very simple thing – this came to me one day, how simple it was. Because people call me. Somebody close to them dies; they are dying; they call.
I was in Honolulu; I didn’t want to do an event – because I wanted to save it. Should have done it, well, not saved it but – ended up talking to a lady who was diagnosed with a very severe disease. She wanted to meet me; I met her and I talked to her.
I said, “It’s simple as this. If I’m not here, I’m somewhere else.” Right? Right? [Audience: Yes.] Do you understand that: “If I’m not here, I’m somewhere else”? So, before I came out here, I was not here; I was backstage. Before that, I was at my house. So, if I’m not here, I’m somewhere else!
Okay, don’t overthink; it’s really simple. If I’m not here, I’m somewhere else, right? [Audience: Yes.] There is your answer: “If you’re not here, you’re somewhere else” – if you can understand that. It’s profound. But it’s so incredibly simple. Because I have understood the “I” in the “am.” I have understood the “I” in the “I am.”
And when you understand the “I” in the “I am,” then you understand, “If I’m not here, I’m somewhere else.” A lot of you are dumbstruck, going, “Why’-wha’-wha’, wha’-wha’-why’-wha’?”
I just solved the quandary for you of “What happens to me when I die?” I just did. Because when I am not here, I am somewhere else. Because that “I” in the “I am” is indestructible. And that is what it means to know the self: you understand the “I.”
You were trying to understand the whole package: “I am.” “I am” will not be around. When you die, you will not be “I am.” The “am,” (a-m) will stay. The “I,” if it’s not here, will be somewhere else.
Prem Rawat:
In this life, people start off, “I’m going to do this, and I’m going to do this, and I’m going to accomplish this, and I’m going to accomplish that,” and all the million things that they want to accomplish. And then it comes down to that one day where if you took another breath, you have accomplished a lot.
I have seen it with my own eyes. I have seen it with my own eyes. It was a long time ago—he was a friend of mine, I guess. Yeah, well, also a very rich man. So, I finally get the message, “He’s on the deathbed; he’s dying. Would you please come say goodbye to him?” I happened to be going from Miami to LA. I said, “Sure, I’ll stop by.”
I stopped, went to the hospital where he was. He was not a tall person. But lying on that bed, he was hooked up to a heart-lung machine. And he was about this big; that’s all. He was curled up. He was already gone. He was hooked up to the heart-lung machine; the heart-lung machine was doing everything for him.
After I left, they asked his then-girlfriend/wife, “Should we pull the plug?” She said yes. They did; he was gone.
He didn’t open his eyes; he didn’t say hello to me. And there was no one cent that could have done anything for him. Success is, (maybe you believe me; maybe you don’t believe me)—but I say to you honestly, “Success is when you are lit.” That’s your success.
You have imagined heaven? I’m sure you have imagined heaven because you have been told so much about it. But I’ll tell you what heaven is. Heaven is when you are lit. That is heaven. That is true heaven. That’s true understanding.
Somebody just told me a person I had just seen not too long ago, passed away. And he knew he was going to go. But that wasn’t the issue. That was not the issue! The issue was that he was going to be in that joy as long as he could, regardless of his situation. I was not shocked. Because I was looking at a lamp that was lit. That’s what happens.
It’s not about all the mundane things. It’s about this life, this life, this lifetime. And when you can see that, when you can understand that, then you understand all there is to understand. Maybe you don’t know the chemical composition of the moon. But you see the kin-ness of all that is dirt. Then you see and feel, truly, the glimpse of the divine.
That’s why you want to be lit. You want to see all that that the darkness hides. And when you are lit, no longer can the darkness hide that. And you can see how beautiful, how incredible this is, this journey, your existence, your opportunity. Make effort to be lit. To understand.
Individual: [reading question]
“I have done something in my life that I cannot forgive myself for. I killed two of my children and nearly killed myself because of the abuse I was suffering. I want to feel the peace that you are talking about, but I think I have lost the capability to feel it. Is there any chance for me?”
Prem Rawat:
Well, do you think there is any chance for this person?
Audience:
Yes!
Prem Rawat:
There is the answer. Sometimes you may have walked too far away from your home. And when she did what she did, she walked a little bit too far away from her home. But her home is still there. And it may be a long journey, and it may take a little while, but the home is still there.
– Prem Rawat
MC: [June Sarpong]
So, the next question is quite a poignant one—and again, this is from an audience member. And then she says, “My mum just died. Someone I loved so deeply is no longer here. I feel the pain of parting. Can you help me come to terms with this?”
Prem Rawat:
Yes, I think I can help. When she was alive.... And first of all, you know, my heartfelt condolences, because it is very difficult to lose somebody that you love. And there is a process of sorrow—and of course, you should go through it—because that’s when, in this sorrow, you reconcile your existence.
But understand something—that when she was alive—and sometimes she would get up and go somewhere else! Right? And when she would do that, you knew she wasn’t here, but she was somewhere else! Right?
Well, not that much has changed. One, she will always live in you—always! In your memories, she will be. She will laugh; she will dance; she’ll call you affectionately. This you can embrace. This you can embrace.
And make peace with yourself; make peace, because this is the law of nature. And nobody can change it. Knowing yourself—knowing yourself is also understanding her—because she lives in you.
And it is not the final story by any stretch of the imagination. We are a part—she was once a part—you weren’t born then—but she was a part of this earth. She had no shape of her own; she had the shape of the earth.
And you, do you know, right, that you’re seventy percent water? That’s mostly all of you—I mean, that’s thirty percent left for everything else—that includes guts and bones and nails and hair and eyeballs and—I mean, you’re seventy percent water!
And that’s what she was; she was this earth, indistinguishable—the dust, the water that flows in this, on this earth. And from there, from this, temporarily emerged this being—gave birth to you.... And now she has gone back to being exactly who she was, part of this earth.
When you celebrate your existence, you celebrate her existence. When you celebrate your joy, you celebrate her joy.
Do not underestimate how concerned a tree is for its seed. The strategies that trees have adopted to make sure that that seed exists and goes on; it is unbelievable, unbelievable. The only difference between us and trees—well, you know what the difference, really, the only difference—and this is coming from an expert, not from me, an expert—is we move; they don’t.
And the strategies that they have adopted so that they can live on—and this is you! You see, you, you, you, you—your mother was the tree; made you—and you live. And so far you do....
And when you thrive, she thrives—because she’s inseparable. And when you are happy, she’s happy—because that tree made you. And when you express kindness and when you express appreciation and when you express joy, she expresses joy. Don’t you see how connected you are?
So, now you are in sorrow because you see the separation—right? And the day you start seeing reality, you will see the connection. And when you do, the world will change—for you. Make the connection. Make the connection.
One of my favorite stories that I have heard since I was a little kid—my father used to tell it—was, there was this king. And one day, this king was attacked, except this attack happened when he was sleeping.
So he’s lying in his bed, and he’s dreaming that he has been attacked, and that he has lost his kingdom; he lost the fight. And the winning king has given orders that he be executed—and he’s running through the forest to save his life.
He finally finds himself in the forest, and he’s hungry. He’s cold; he’s hungry. He finds a hut. In the hut there is an old lady. He knocks on the door, and he says to the old lady, “Can I have something to eat?” She goes, “I just finished making my food, and I have eaten it. But I do have a little bit of lentils left, and a little bit of rice, uncooked. Here it is. Cook for yourself, and eat and be satisfied.”
The king goes out, finds the wood—it has been raining and the wood is all wet. He starts a fire, and the fire is getting into his eyes. And it’s very difficult to start the fire, but he somehow manages to start the fire; he puts the pot on the fire. He puts the dahl, the lentils, the rice, a little bit of salt—cooks himself what is called a kitchari. If you’re from Scotland, a kedgeree—but it’s the same thing.
It’s too hot for him to eat, so he puts it on a leaf to cool down. Two bulls come by, fighting, and he has to move away. And they take what he has made, and stamp, stamp all over it, and mix it in the mud.
The pain of this defeat, losing the war, losing his kingdom, hunger, being in the forest—just imagine, that’s a nightmare! He’s having a nightmare, right? That’s the problem with nightmares; when you’re having them, you don’t know you’re having a nightmare. It seems so real.
And he starts crying. And when he starts crying, he’s crying for real. Not just in his dream; he’s actually crying, and that wakes him up. And he opens his eyes, and in the dim light of his room, lit by little lamps, he sees the magnificent bed, embroidered curtains. Gold is flickering from the little light of the lamps at night.
He can see the outline of his soldiers, standing their guard with spears, as their uniform is glistening from the little light from the lamps. He feels around him, and he’s lying on the softest possible bed he can imagine, with velvet pillows.
At that moment, a question strikes him. And the brilliance of this story is just this question that strikes him—which doesn’t strike us. That whoever wrote this story, whoever came up with this story....
See, well, you hear many, many stories—at least from me. And each one of the stories has a pivotal point, this one point that the author, the teller is trying to convey to you, that is the message of the story, that is the reality of the story. Now, it may not happen with Dirty Harry—that’s Clint Eastwood’s movie—it may not have that pivoting point of “something to tell.”
But these deep stories, which were truly a way to convey wisdom to people, to the masses who would hear it.... And people would go from cities to city, to village to village, and tell these stories, and this was people’s entertainment—how sweet that time must have been.
Before Ved Vyas—the person who wrote Mahabharat—the rishis and the many, many ashrams that existed, and many teachers that existed, had the knowledge, had the knowledge of what was eventually put in the vedas. But they refused to write it.
Writing existed, and means for writing existed. But they refused to write it. Do you know why? Because they knew that if it was ever written, it no longer would be synced with time.
That whenever this wisdom was passed to people, it would be in sync with the time. What would come out would be understood by the people of that time, would be current for those people of the time, would be accepted by those people of the time. It…they would be used by the people of the time.
The downside of it was, that as rivers shifted—because India was still moving north, and this is a reality of it; India is still moving around, and then the rivers are going, “Not here. Not any more.” And people have set up their ashram....
Because, one of the most—see, the…one of the most important things was water. And in those days, cities or villages or whatever was done, it was, “Make sure the water is available.” Because if you had the water, you could grow crops. And, of course, without water, no life.
Not like today, where there are these cities and there is no water. There is a—I saw a documentary of a city in California; there’s no water. And every ounce of water, for the toilet, for the sink, for brushing the teeth, is shipped in by trucks. And you don’t want to go there—because they conserve their water; they don’t take showers.
Anyhow, that something remains current. And here is the pivotal point of that story.
So, he wakes up. He looks around; he sees he’s still a king. Soldiers.... I already described everything pretty well, right? The question he asks himself: “Is this a dream? Or was that a dream,” where he’s hungry? He has questioned both! What would you do?
Oh, you know, instruments of truth, who can detect truth just like that—“Is there something black on my nose?” “No.”
You see, you know, have you seen mechanics? Car mechanics? Sometimes they will have a big line right here, and they don’t know. They’re going around like, “No, there’s nothing there.” To them, that’s the truth. The truth to you would then be, “Oh, no, no, look, look at your face.”
That’s not the truth either; that’s not the truth either, and he’s asking himself a question, “Which one was the dream?” Would we have the gall to ask that question, “Which one is a dream? Was our nightmare real—and what we are seeing now is real? And which one is a dream? Which one is the nightmare and which one is the reality?”
So, anyway, the story goes on; he makes a declaration, “Please, somebody answer my question.” People come out; he’s getting BS answers like he would today—stupid answers.
“You know, according to your astrology sign, that was just a nightmare, king. This is what’s real. Your destined to be the king; there’s nobody born who can defeat you, bla-bla-bla-bla-bla.” And he’s not buying it; he’s not convinced. He’s been touched by that dream so hard, he really wants to know which one is real.
That, there’s nothing to stop for him dreaming. That he has made a declaration—that he woke up and found that he’s still a king, when he’s maybe lying on some floor in the jungle, hungry and wet.
And finally, as—and so he keeps upping the ante, you know? It’s like, “Okay, whoever answers it can have this, can have this, can have this,” and it just kept escalating, escalating, escalating, and he finally gets down to it, and he goes, “Okay, I’ll give half of my kingdom to whoever answers my question.”
Everybody tried; everybody failed. Finally this person, Ashtabakr—and he was deformed! So, he comes; he sits down. And everybody starts laughing.
And the first thing Ashtabakr says is, “How come you have called me, how come you have invited me, O King, to the company of leather-workers?” In India, that’s an insult, by the way. That’s a low-down task, to work with the leather. “Chamar.”
Everybody hears the word “chamar” in his gathering, and they are like, “How dare you call these learned people ‘chamar’?” He goes, “They look at my skin—they look at my skin, and they’re laughing. They don’t know what I have in here, and they don’t know my knowledge. So obviously, they deal in skin.”
The king goes, “Okay, this, this sounds promising.” And here comes the answer—the second twist, the untangling—so, the tangling is, “Which one is real?” And the untangling, here it comes.
The untangling is, “O King, both are dreams.” Right? “Both are dreams. What you dreamt being in the jungle, being hungry was definitely a dream. But what you see with your eyes open, my king, is also a dream.” Tellers of truth, figure that one out. Both are—both are just a dream?
It is the easiest thing to forget: “This is a dream.” Because you were so deep into this dream, that it doesn’t seem like a dream. And there’s only one solution to this problem—only one. Only one—to be reminded again and again and again and again and again, “It’s only a bloody dream; it’s only a bloody dream; it’s only a bloody dream.”
And of course, that’s what sets forth the value for the Master. “It’s only a dream; it’s only a dream; it’s only a dream; it’s only”—and you’re like, “And no, it doesn’t look like a dream. It doesn’t look like a dream.” But isn’t it? “It is a dream; it is a dream; it is a dream; it is a dream; it is a dream.”
“Doesn’t seem like a dream; it doesn’t seem like a dream,” “Yeah, but it is a dream; it is a dream; it is a dream; it is a dream.”
Just like he said, Ashtabakr said, “That was a dream, and this is a dream. Don’t seek reality here. If you want to seek reality, seek reality in you, in that real place that you have which is not a dream.”
- Prem Rawat