Life is a dream.

You didn't even catch that moment, you didn't even realize it, and it was already gone. Just a click of the camera, click - and it's all gone... • QUESTION: What is the difference between experiencing satori (in Zen - a glimpse, enlightenment) and samadhi (cosmic consciousness)? ANSWER: Samadhi begins as a break, but it never ends. A break always begins and ends; it has a boundary: a beginning and an end - but samadhi begins as a break, and then it is eternal. It has no end. So, if it comes as a break, and it has no end, then it is samadhi, but if this break is completed: it has a beginning and an end - then it is satori, and that is something else. If it is only a glimpse, only a moment, and this moment is lost again, if something is put in parentheses, and the parentheses are closed (you peeked at something and turned away, jumped into it, but came back out), if something happened, and it is lost again - this is satori. It is a glimpse, a glimpse of samadhi, but not samadhi. Samadhi means the beginning of knowing without any end. In India, we don't have a word that corresponds to satori, so sometimes, when this break is very large, one can mistake satori for samadhi. But it is never the same. It is just a glimpse, a brief look. You approached the cosmic and glanced into it, and then it was all gone again. Of course, you will no longer be the same. Something has penetrated you, something has been added to you, you will never be able to be the same again, but still, what changed you is not with you. It is only a memory, it is a remembrance. It is just a brief look. If you can remember it, if you can say, "I experienced a moment," it is only a glimpse, because as soon as samadhi happens, there will be no you to remember. Then you will never be able to say, "I experienced a moment..." - because when knowing comes, the knower is not there. The knower remains only if it was a glimpse. So, the knower can keep this glimpse in memory, can cherish it, strive for it, desire it, try to experience it again - but he is still there. The one who looked, who saw the glimpse, is still there. It has become a memory. And now this memory will haunt you, will follow you and demand that it happen again and again. As soon as samadhi happens, you are no longer there to remember it. Samadhi never becomes a memory, because the one to whom it belongs is no longer there. As they say in Zen: "The old man is gone, a new one has come..." - and these two never met, so there is not even the possibility of preserving some memory. The old one disappeared, a new one appeared, and they never met, because the new one can only come when the old one is gone. Then there is no memory. Then it does not haunt you, and you do not cling to it. There is no striving for it. Then you are what you are, you feel free, easy, and you have no desire. This is not the same as killing desire - no! It is a lack of desire in the sense that the one who could desire is no longer there. It is not a state without desires, it is a lack of desire, because the one who could desire is no longer there. Then there is no striving, no future, because the future arises from our aspirations, it is a projection of our desires. If there are no desires, there is no future. And if there is no future, there is no need for the past, because the past is always that foundation, that springboard from which we strive for the future. If there is no future, if you know that in this very moment you are dying, that you will die now, there is no need to remember the past. Then there is no need to even remember your name, because there is meaning in a name only when there is a future. It may be needed. But if there is no future, then you simply burn all the bridges to the past. They are no longer needed. The past has completely lost any meaning. Only in relation to the future or for the future does the past have meaning. As soon as samadhi happens, the future becomes non-existent, insignificant. It is not there, there is only this moment. It is the only time you have. There is not even any past. The past is gone, the future is gone, and the single moment, the instantaneous being, becomes everything, a whole being. You are in it, but not as something separate from it. You cannot be separate from it, because you have become a whole being, without your past or your future. The past and the future, crystallized around you, are the only barrier between you and the moment that is happening right now. So, when samadhi happens, there is no past and no future. Then you are not in the present, but you are the present, you have become the present. Samadhi is not a glimpse. Samadhi is death, but satori is a glimpse, not death. And the possibilities for satori are so diverse! An aesthetic experience can be a source of satori, music can be a source of satori, love can be a source of satori. In any intense moment, when the past does not matter, in any intense moment when you feel in the present: in the moment of music, or love, or poetic feeling, or in the moment of any experience in which the past was not hidden, in which there is no desire for something in the future, satori becomes possible. But it is only a glimpse, a brief look. This glimpse is important because through satori you can first feel what samadhi might mean. For the first time, the sensation of taste or the first scent of samadhi comes from satori. Therefore, satori is useful. But everything that is useful can become an obstacle if you cling to it, and you think that this is all. There is bliss in satori that can deceive you, it has its own bliss. Because you did not know samadhi, satori is the highest thing that happens to you, and you cling to it. But by clinging, you can turn what is useful, what is friendly to you, into an obstacle and an enemy. So, you need to understand the fundamental danger of satori. If you are aware of this, then the experience of satori will be useful. The only instantaneous glimpse is something that cannot be known in any other way. No one can explain it. No words, no messages can give a hint of it. Satori is important, but only as a glimpse, as a surge, as a one-time instantaneous surge into being, into the abyss. You didn't even catch that moment, you didn't even realize it, and it was already gone. Just a click of the camera, click - and it's all gone. Then a desire arises, you will risk everything for this moment, but do not strive for it, do not desire it. Let it sleep in your memory. Don't make it a problem, just forget about it. If you can forget about it and not cling to it, these moments will come to you again and again, glimpses will happen again and again. A demanding mind becomes closed, and the window slams shut. It always comes when you are not aware of it, when you are not looking for it, when you are relaxed, when you are not even thinking about it, when you are not even meditating. Even when you are meditating, this glimpse becomes impossible, but when you are not meditating, when you simply let everything go its own way - in this moment of relaxation, satori happens. It will happen more and more often, but don't think about it, don't strive for it. And never mistake it for samadhi... Osho