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This time is passing, and when it is gone, it will take time until it returns. And when you come home, you know what situation awaits you. A person who has been away a long time comes home to find the freezer empty. It is too late to go shopping; the shops are closed. You go to a restaurant, but they do not have the kind of sāttvic food you get here. You ask for a vegetarian pizza, but they cut it with the same knife they use for fish, mushrooms, and onions. You eat something and then have a terrible feeling in your stomach and a feeling of guilt in your mind. The next day, you must hurry quickly and run to catch the bus for work. Or you look for a parking space and find none. You think you are in a vehicle, so you park anywhere and go to the office. When you return to your car, you find two or three tickets on it. Or your car has been towed to a safe place, so you must go and retrieve it. Thus, our stay here in Vép is in every aspect very valuable, very beautiful, very beneficial. And now you have 48 hours more. After 48 hours, you jump back into māyā. But you know, 48 hours is also a lot. So, who knows? Perhaps we will attain enlightenment. So do not give up. Practice. And from this energy, you will survive the whole year. Do not think that everything is just discipline, and "not this, not that," and that we do not get what we deserve. There is a story. One man was looking after cows. Whenever he brought his cows into the forest, suddenly one extra cow would come to join his herd. When evening came and he moved his cows toward home, that cow would go with them for a while and then suddenly disappear. It was a question for him: to whom does this cow belong? He never saw anyone bring it. One day, after about six months or a year and a half, he decided to follow this cow because he wanted to know its owner. He thought that whoever owned it should at least pay him something for looking after it. With this feeling and expectation, he walked behind the cow. They came to a hilly area where there was a small cave. The cow entered the cave, and he followed behind. It was getting darker, so before it became completely dark, he held the cow's tail and walked behind it, holding on tightly. It became completely dark. He thought, "I have made a great mistake trying to get money from this cow. If the cow runs away and I lose its tail, I will be lost in these caves. I do not know which way leads where." So he repeated his mantra, holding the cow's tail with both hands, his heart repeating the mantra. That was a real Ajapa mantra. Which mantra was he repeating? Whenever you are in trouble, you repeat this mantra: "Saba dukha banjan," meaning, "Please remove all my pain, my suffering, my sorrows, my troubles, all my problems." Om Prabhudeep Niranjan Sabdhukvanjan. Om Prabhudeep Niranjan Sabdhukvanjan. The cow walked quickly. After a ten or fifteen minute walk through the cave, it suddenly became larger and there was some light. Evening dusk light and some sky light were coming in. A nice waterfall appeared, and the cow walked further in where there was a very beautiful light. A very thin sādhu came. He took the cow and put it where it lived. The man stood there, completely frightened. Then the sādhu returned, smiled, and said, "Come, brother, come with me. I will take you to my master." He went to the master, who was also very old, very thin, very light, sitting there with a beautiful radiance. The master said, "How are you, my son? You have come after a long time. Any complaint about my cow? Is she disciplined enough, or does she run away sometimes?" The man said, "No, sir. She is a very nice cow, a very kind cow. I am happy to have her with my other cows. Only one thing: I did not know to whom this cow belongs. Such a nice, beautiful, well-looked-after cow comes and suddenly disappears, so my curiosity was to know her owner." The master smiled and said to him, "Yes, and you were also expecting some award, some reward, some money for taking care of the cow." The man replied, "Yes, but that is not my priority, sir." The master said, "Well, we are sādhus here; we do not have any money. You can drink cow's milk. We have some things to eat, some kind of roots from the forest. You can eat these. And we have some fields, a little bit, where we get our corn. Anyhow, here you are." So he gave him a handful of barley weeds—long, brown, with little needles—and said, "This is our cow feed. I give you a little bit." The man received it in his towel, closed it up; it was only a handful. The master called his disciple, whose name was Totāpurī. Totāpurī was to guide him back out of the cave. The master said that if it is too dark outside, he should guide him all the way home, because very soon the guards would arrive at the entrance of the cave. His guards at the entrance were a few lions, so for safety, he should bring him back. The man was only praying, "Mahāprabhujī, please, I do not want anything, only to go out." But his inner self was so relaxed and filled with a divine light, though he was not yet fully aware of it. As Kabīr Dās said, I must laugh very much that I see a fish thirsty in the water. Sometimes we do not realize what we have and where we are. We compare it again with the impurity of māyā, the worldly. One part of him did not want to go, but the second part—which was on the surface as a physical, mortal being—wanted to run away. Anyway, the sādhu guided him out of the cave. And as he went farther from the master, he again got doubts in his mind, like the cowboy. He thought, "It is terrible. For a year and a half I was looking after his cows, and what did he give me? Some clever words and just a handful of this rice, a handful of barley weeds." The young sādhu guided him outside the cave. The first guard was already there; the third guard was about forty meters away, with a lot of lion cubs too. He accompanied him to the beginning of the village. Then the cowboy was so angry. As soon as the sādhu went away, he opened the knot holding the handful of barley and threw it away, putting his shawl back on, and went home. His wife was waiting. "What happened today?" The cows had come home alone, so around nine o'clock he approached home. She asked, "Where have you been? What happened?" He told her the whole story. While talking, she noticed something sparkling in his shawl. She said, "What is there?" He said, "Nothing. He gave me a handful of barley; I just threw it away." She looked at his shawl, and there were about ten or eleven pieces of barley hanging on it, and they were not barley but diamonds. He said, "Wait a minute, wait a minute," and he ran back. She ran behind him, "What happened to you?" He said, "No, no," and he ran. He searched everywhere but found nothing. And that was it. That cave is this place where we have our anuṣṭhāna. And now you think, "What did I get here? My knees ache, my back aches, and what I heard were some stories of Vedas, Vākas, Vākas—I do not understand." Just a handful. I do not want all this. But when you come home, then you will realize what remains stuck somewhere in the brain. You know, "Oh God, how nice it was." When you come home, you can recognize some pieces that are stuck in the nose. You will say, "God, how nice it was there." All the stories are known, and prāṇa, apāna, vyāna. I am not in Vienna; I am in Ljubljana, so understand, it is such a sound which purifies you through and through and gives you that darśana of that holy sand which is sitting within thyself. That is thyself. Zanustan egy olyan sādhanā, amely át és át tisztít, amelynek révén darśanāba részesülhetsz annak a sentnek, senttségnek, amely ott ül benned, te önmagad. Takva vrasta sadane, takva vrasta pročičenja, koja omogučuje da imate darśan onoga svejca koji sedi u vama, koji ste vi sami. That cow is the tongue. In Sanskrit, they also say "cow" for the tongue. A great saint describes Khecharī Mudrā, writing that yogīs should eat, should swallow the cow every day. Some people misunderstand this to mean that yogīs should eat cow meat. It is like when Jesus spoke about wine, meaning fresh-pressed grapes. But now we interpret it as all alcohol, to drink alcohol, wine. Did Jesus not know the difference between wine and alcohol? He could have said, "Drink alcohol." So many things are misunderstood. Jīvā is that cow, the milky cow which always gives milk. The hormones produced by the tongue are the most important hormones for our whole health condition, our digestion, everything. Hormones that produce our language are the most important hormones for our body, for our health, probably. In the Upanishad it is said, "O Lord, give on my tongue the honey that I speak sweet, Madhumātha." So, this tongue is that cow. "Hold the tongue" means repeat the mantra. Take care that your tongue does not run here and there. Let it go into that cave of the palate, from where, from the Bindu Chakra, the ambrosia is dripping. And let your mind be that sādhu who will guide you. Finally, you will meet the ātmā inside. And even if it is a very small experience, a very short experience, do not think, "So many years I have been practicing, and suddenly I got light for five seconds, and nothing is there. Maybe I was dreaming." No matter how short it lasted—even if you look at the light for a few seconds and when it passes you say again, "What was that? It was nothing. Maybe it was a problem with the circulation in my head. Maybe I lack vitamin E." Or when, after so many years, you have an experience for just a few seconds, you think, "That's nothing." Then, when you later read somewhere what kind of experience that is, you will say, "Oh my, oh my God, I lost that." So, all this sādhanā needs Guru Kṛpā. Otherwise, Mahāprabhujī said, all sādhanā is just like food without salt. And all sādhanā is fruitless, seedless. It will not grow.