In a moment, in a single, simultaneous moment, everything becomes clear; the darkness is not there. And then again the darkness is there; everything is lost, but now you cannot be the same again. This has become part of your experience.
In some moments of silence, in some moments of love, in some moments of suffering, in some moments of sudden accidents, the door suddenly opens and you have a taste. These things cannot be arranged; they are accidents. They cannot be arranged. When someone is in love, a door opens for a moment; this opening is really a happening. In deep love, somehow your desire ceases. The very moment is enough; there is no desire for the future. If I love someone, then in that very moment of love the mind is not. This moment is eternity. For me, now, in this moment, there is no future – I am not concerned with the future at all – and there is no past. I am not bothered about it. The whole thought process has stopped at this moment of existence. Everything has stopped, and suddenly, in this nondesiring moment, a door opens.
So love has many glimpses of the divine. If you have really been in love, even for a moment, then you cannot remain “in this room” for long. Then you have tasted something that is of the beyond.
But again the mind begins to play tricks. It says, “This moment has happened because of this person whom I love. I must possess this person forever, otherwise this thing will not happen again.” And the more you possess, the more you become concerned with the future. Then this moment will not come again. Even with this same person it is not going to come again, because with expectation the mind is again tense. The moment happened when there were no expectations. And then the lovers go on condemning each other – “You are not loving me as much as you did before” – because the moment is not happening.
This moment, this glimpse, is not in anyone’s hand, and the lover cannot do anything about it.
Whatever he tries to do will just be a destruction of the whole thing. He cannot do, because it was not his doing at all; it was just a spontaneous phenomenon. It happened, and the door opened.
It can happen in many ways. Someone you love has died and the death has struck like a dagger in your mind. The past and future are separated: death has become like a dagger in you. The whole past has stopped and, in your deep suffering, there is no future; everything stops. You may get a taste of the divine, of the “outside.” But then your mind again begins to play tricks. It begins to weep, it begins to do something; it begins to think that “I am feeling suffering because someone has died.”
It becomes concerned with the other.
But if, at the moment of death, you can remain just in the moment, then it sometimes happens; then you can glimpse something of the beyond. In some accident, it can happen. In a motor accident, it can happen. Things stop suddenly. Time stops. You cannot desire because there is no time/space to desire in. Your car is falling from a height; as it falls, you cannot remember the past, you cannot desire for the future. The moment has become all. In this moment, it can happen.