Life Is a Five-Cornered Game
Flowers can make nectar and fragrance, and of course color. A bee can build a wonderful hive and fill it with sweetness – it is guarded by a bitter sting. Birds can sing. Human beings can do all this. Or realize that all these things - producing color, fragrance, sweetness - are being done pretty well by other creatures and see how to go beyond this.
I am not against the sweetness of life, nor against the color, nor the fragrance. But if we don't do any of these things, nothing is really lost because nature is doing it much better than us. If musicians stop singing, nothing will be lost because if we listen carefully, every leaf, every tree, even the very breeze is humming its own rhythm, if you are willing to listen. If painters stop painting, nothing will be lost. People, instead of wowing imitations, would probably start looking at the original.
It is good that human beings can do all this because, in the evolutionary process of life, human beings are placed in a position of intelligence and capability. Where we can be a composite expression of all creatures. Many human beings, though, have not produced the kind of sweetness that a bee is capable of producing. Humans are still armed with a sting worse than the bee, though they have no sweetness to protect. But the most important thing is that a human being is capable of rising above this whole play.
It is a five-cornered game - just five ingredients. Even if you want to make sambar, you need 17 ingredients. But it is just five ingredients. Everything that you see in creation is just a juggling of these five things. Five is not a complicated number. Human intelligence should be capable of juggling five. So those beings who saw the simplicity of the trick, the cosmic trick, when something seems phenomenally complex. And if you dive into it and find it is just a juggling of the five things, it becomes a joke. Those who realized. Once you know something is one big joke, you refuse to play.
When I was at the airport in New York, there was a man, probably over 60 years of age with a long beard. Not me- I was not looking in the mirror. So he looked at me and nodded. I also nodded - brotherhood. Then I saw that he was wearing a t-shirt where boldly it was written, “I don't play anymore”. I know in what context he is saying this; the old bugger still wants to boast about his youthful adventures. But I saw it in a different way. All yogis are actually wearing the same t-shirt - “I don't play anymore” - but in a completely different context. It is because they realize it is such a simple game projecting itself to be so complex…magnified billions of times.