I want to tell your story before you disappear.
We have to do this.
Remember?
There's a reason...
There's no good reason left.
When a human being has a different kind of consciousness from the average, is he advanced and seeing new things that nobody has seen before, or is he retarded?
There's hope for the future.
It is a hope.
It's a perfect hope.
Maybe we will make spiritual progress.
Everybody puts it off.
Maybe if I work at yoga for 10 years, 20 years, and do this thing, I will eventually make it to moksha, to nirvana, whatever.
That's nothing more than a postponement.
It's this business of, because you're not fully alive now, you think maybe someday you will be.
Look, supposing I ask you, what did you do yesterday?
No, what did I do yesterday?
In fact, I forgot.
So, that mostly will say, well, let me see now, let me get out my notebook.
I got up at 7.30, and I brushed my teeth, and I read the newspaper over a cup of coffee, and then I looked at the clock, and dressed, and got in the car, and drove downtown, and did this and that in the office, and so on, and you go on and on and on.
And you suddenly discover what you've described as absolutely nothing to do with what happened.
You've described a scraggly, skeletal, fleshless list of abstractions.
Whereas if you were actually aware of what went on, you could never describe it.
There was a time when human beings were wild, and that's what we call in modern anthropological jargon, they lived in hunting cultures.
The religion of the hunting culture is shamanism.
Our shaman is a liberated man who gets his liberation by going into the forest alone, and naturally, the highly socialized people have a terror of solitude, because in solitude, the awesome facts are slowly going to appear.
First of all, the triviality of your role game, and then deeper and deeper in you get, until at last, one night all alone and cold under the stars, you'll find out who you are.
I want to tell you a story.
