The Beloved, Vol 1

Submission is the secret of knowledge

Submission is the secret of knowledge. Baul songs: 'Only a connoisseur of love's flavors comprehends the lover's heart.' Honey is hidden in the lotus—the bee knows. The Bauls of Bengal: wandering mystics who celebrate love as the only path. Submission is not surrender to a person but to existence. The secret of knowledge: drop the knower, become the known. Love is the key—not theology, not philosophy.

I am just a midwife

I am just a midwife. 'Why am I filled with awe on seeing you?' Awe is the only quality that makes man religious. Through awe, thinking stops—some sublime presence is felt. The master is a midwife: he doesn't create, he helps you give birth to what's already within. The midwife doesn't produce the child—she facilitates the birth. Your enlightenment is your own; the master just helps.

What is there, is there

What is there, is there. 'Nothing has happened and nothing will happen. What is there, is there.' I became a king in my dream. The Bauls: don't seek—just see what is. The dreamer seeks in the dream; the awakened one sees. What is there, is there: reality doesn't change with your dreams. Stop dreaming and see what has always been.

The only criterion is your thirst

The only criterion is your thirst. 'How to start the journey? What does it mean to transcend sex?' The journey has already started—you are in it. Recognize it. Transcending sex is not repression—it's transforming energy through awareness. The only criterion is your thirst: not how much you know, how much you've read, but how thirsty you are. Thirst is the only qualification.

Kali and Krishna are one

Kali and Krishna are one. The Baul speaks of the Eternal Mother. Kali and Krishna are one: the destructive and the playful are two aspects of the same divine. The Baul doesn't choose—he embraces both. Life and death, creation and destruction, are one. The novel man has abandoned possessions—not out of renunciation but out of love for the whole.

Direction a non-ending process

Direction a non-ending process. 'You said the inward traveler has direction, not destination.' The distinction is like prose and poetry. Destination is a fixed point; direction is a flowing river. Mind wants destinations; heart lives in direction. Direction is a non-ending process: the journey never ends because the traveler and the path are one. The seeker is the seeking.

Dying with death, You must live to seek

Dying with death, you must live to seek. 'Commit yourself to the earth while on the earth, if you wish to attain the unattainable man.' The Baul: be rooted in the earth to reach the sky. Dying with death: die to the past, die to the ego—and then live fully. You must live to seek: the search is not against life—it's the deepest form of living.

The body is an abode

The body is an abode. The Bauls celebrate their bodies. The American cherishes the body as body; the Baul worships it as God's shrine. The glory of the body is the guest within. If you forget the guest, it's indulgence. The body is an abode: not to be rejected, not to be worshipped alone. The temple matters because of the God inside.

It is always god who loves

It is always god who loves. 'What dealings can you have with someone unaware of the feelings in loving?' The owl stares at the sky, blind to the sun. When you love, it is God loving through you. The lover disappears—only love remains. It is always God who loves: you are just the instrument, the flute. Don't claim love as yours—it flows through you, not from you.

Truth is neither I nor you

Truth is neither I nor you. 'Who originated Bauls?' Nobody. Like roses, like birdsong—it has always been there. The Baul religion is a happening, not a creation. Truth is neither I nor you: it's not personal, not possessable. It's the universal heartbeat. The Bauls are not followers of a founder—they're part of an eternal stream of lovers.