She stepped close and drew back her hood to reveal the face that few ever saw.

Within her concealing garments, she was nothing of what she seemed. She was very young, barely a grown woman, her hair long and dark, her eyes a startling blue, and her features smooth and lovely.

As a child, when she had the name she no longer spoke, she would look at herself in the mirror of the waters of a little cove that pooled off the stream that ran not far from her home and try to imagine how she would look when grown. She had not thought herself pretty then, when it mattered to her. She did not think herself pretty now, when it did not.



There was warmth and tenderness in her face and eyes as she bent to kiss the ruined man on his lips. She held the kiss long enough to draw the breath from his lungs, and then he died.


"Be at peace," she whispered in his ear.

Well, it's necessary to rearrange one's memories to remember the events that happened in the desired manner. All that's needed is a series of victories over your own memory. Not in their originally experienced form. All that is needed. All that is needed..

Always needing a crisis always need some pain to move always last minute not saying I won't but to date I have yet to have someone die on my watch such cowardice the sloth no thoughts four shots vodka no. 21 get rested get moving keep moving or rest pain is weakness leaving the body says who need more pain much more pain a burial would be very heartwarming with the finding of

Zorba is beautiful, but something is missing. The earth is his, but the heaven is missing. He is earthly, rooted, like a giant cedar, but he has no wings. He cannot fly into the sky. He has roots but no wings.

Eat, drink, and be merry is perfectly good in itself; nothing is wrong in it. But it is not enough. Soon you will get tired of it. One cannot just go on eating, drinking, and merrying. Soon the merry-go-round turns into a sorry-go-round -- because it is repetitive. Only a very mediocre mind can go on being happy with it.

If you have a little intelligence, sooner or later the question is bound to arise: What is the point of it all? Why? It is impossible to avoid the question for long. And if you are very intelligent, it is always there, persistently there, hammering on your heart for the answer: Give me the answer! -- Why?

And one thing to be remembered: it is not that the people who are poor, starving, become frustrated with life -- no. They cannot become frustrated. They have not lived yet -- how can they be frustrated? They have hopes. A poor man always has hopes that something is going to happen -- if not today then tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow; if not in this life then in the next life.

What do you think? Who are these people who have depicted heaven as a playboy Club -- who are these people? Starved, poor, who have missed their life -- they are projecting their desires in heaven. In heaven there are rivers of wine... who are these people who are imagining rivers of wine? They must have missed here. And there are wish-fulfilling trees. You sit underneath them, desire, and the moment you desire, immediately it is fulfilled.

It is only through experience that one comes to know the utter futility of it all. Only Zorbas come to know the utter futility of it all. Buddha himself was a Zorba. He had all the beautiful women available in his country. His father had arranged for all the beautiful girls to be around him. He had the most beautiful palaces -- different palaces for different seasons. He had all the luxury that is possible, or that was possible in those days. He lived the life of a Zorba the Greek -- hence, when he was only twenty-nine he become utterly frustrated. He was a very intelligent man. If he had been a mediocre man, then he would have lived in it. But soon he saw the point: it is repetitive, it is the same. Every day you eat, every day you make love to a woman... and he had new women every day to make love to. But how long...? Soon he was fed up.

The experience of life is very bitter. it is sweet only in imagination. In its reality it is very bitter. He escaped from the palace and the women and the riches and the luxury and everything.

So, I am not against Zorba the Greek because Zorba the Greek is the very foundation of Zorba the Buddha. Buddha arises out of that experience. So I am all for this world, because I know the other world can only be experienced through this world. So I don't say escape from it, I will not say to you to become a monk. A monk is one who has moved against the Zorba; he is an escapist, a coward; he has done something in a hurry, out of unintelligence. He is not a mature person. A monk is immature, greedy -- greedy for the other world, and wants it too early, and the season has not come, and he is not ripe yet.

Live in this world, because this world gives a ripening, maturity, integrity. The challenges of this world give you a centering, an awareness. And that awareness becomes the ladder. Then you can move from Zorba to Buddha.

Only Zorbas become Buddhas -- and Buddha was never a monk, A monk is one who has never been a Zorba and has become enchanted by the words of Buddhas. A monk is an imitator, he is false, pseudo. He imitates Buddhas. He may be Christian, he may be Buddhist, he may be a Hindu -- that doesn't make much difference -- but he imitates Buddhas.

When a monk goes away from the world, he goes fighting with it. it is not a relaxed going. His whole being is pulled towards the world. He struggles against it. He becomes divided. Half of his being is for the world and half has become greedy for the other. He is torn apart. A monk is basically a schizophrenic, a split person, divided into the lower and the higher. And the lower goes on pulling him, and the lower becomes more and more attractive the more it is repressed. And because he has not lived the lower, he cannot get into the higher.

You can get into the higher only when you have lived through the lower. You can earn the higher only by going through all the agony and the ecstasy of the lower. Before a lotus becomes a lotus it has to move through the mud -- that mud is the world. The monk has escaped from the mud, he will never become a lotus. It is as if lotus seed is afraid of falling into mud -- maybe out of ego that, "I am lotus seed! And I cannot fall into the mud." But then it is going to remain a seed; it will never bloom as a lotus. If it wants to bloom like a lotus, it has to fall into the mud; it has to live this contradiction. Without this contradiction of living in the mud there is no going beyond.

I would like to you to become rooted into the earth. I am perfectly in agreement with Friedrich Nietzsche who says: "I beseech you, my brothers, remain faithful to the earth and do not believe in those who speak of other worldly hopes!" Learn your first lesson of trust by trusting the earth. It is your home right now!

Don't hanker for the other world. Live this world, and live it with intensity, with passion. Live it with totality, with your whole being. And out of that whole trust, out of that life of passion, love, and joy, you will become able to go beyond.

The other world is hidden in this world. The Buddha is asleep in the Zorba. It has to be awakened. And nobody can awaken you except life itself.

I am here to help you to be total wherever you are; in whatsoever state you are -- live that state totally. It is only in living a thing totally that one transcends it.

First become a Zorba, a flower of this earth, and earn the capacity through it to become a Buddha -- the flower of the other world. The other world is not away from this world; the other world is not against this world: the other world is hidden in this. This is only a manifestataion of the other, and the other is the unmanifest part of this.

"I'm going to buy a new dress, a pair of new shoes and lipsticks. I haven't worn lipstick for ten years - this is the start to a new me."

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