I want to start by re-emphasizing the point that what are called the religions of the
 East, the ones we're discussing, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Chinese Taoism, they don't involve
 that you believe in anything specific, and they don't involve any idea of obedience to
 commandments from above.
 And they don't involve any conformity to a specific ritual, although they do have rituals,
 but their rituals vary from country to country and from time to time.
 Their objective is always not ideas, not doctrines, but a method, a method for the transformation
 of consciousness.
 That is to say, for a transformation of your sensation of who you are, and I emphasize
 the word sensation because it's the strongest word we have for feeling directly.
 When you put your hand on the corner of a table, you have a very definite feeling, and
 when you are aware of existing, you also have a definite feeling.
 But in the view of these methods or disciplines, the ordinary person's definite feeling of
 the way he exists and who he is is a hallucination.
 To feel yourself as a separate ego, a source of action and awareness that is entirely separate
 and independent from the rest of the world, somehow locked up inside a bag of skin, is
 seen as a hallucination.
 That you are not a stranger in the earth that comes into this world either as a result of
 a natural fluke or being a sort of spirit that comes from somewhere else altogether,
 but that you, in your fundamental existence, you are the total energy that constitutes
 this universe, playing that it's you, playing that it's this particular organism, and even
 playing that it's this particular person.
 Because the fundamental game of the world is a game of hide-and-seek.
 That is to say that the colossal reality, the energy that is everything, that is a unitary
 energy, that is one, plays at being many, at manifesting itself in all these particulars
 that we call you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and this and that
 and all around us.
 And it's fundamentally a game.
 And you can say that this goes, really, for all the systems that I'm talking about.
 It's the basis of Hinduism, of Buddhism, and of Taoism, this intuition.
 Now today we're going to talk about Buddhism.
 Buddhism is an offshoot of Hinduism.
 You could, in a way, call it a reform of Hinduism or Hinduism stripped for export.
 It originates in northern India, close to the area that is now Nepal, shortly after
 600 BC.
 There was a young prince by the name of Gautama Siddhartha who became the man we call the
 Buddha.
 Now, the word Buddha is not a proper name, it's a title, and it's based on the Sanskrit
 root budh, B-U-D-H, which means to be awake.
 And so you could say the Buddha is the man who woke up from the dream of life as we ordinarily
 take it to be, and found out who he was, who he is.
 It's curious that this title was not something new.
 There was already in the whole complex of Hinduism the idea of Buddhas, of awakened
 people, and curiously they are ranked higher than gods.
 Because in the view of Hinduism, even the gods, or the angels, the devas, are still
 bound on the wheel of the sort of squirrel cage of going round and round and round in
 the pursuit of success.
 And the idea is that if you pursue something that you can call success, pleasure, good,
 virtue, which originally of course means strength, magical power, all these positive things,
 you are under illusion because the positive cannot exist without the negative.
 To be, you only know what to be is by contrast with not to be.
 So if we say, now there is a coin in the left hand, there is no coin in the right, and from
 this you get the idea of to be and not to be.
 And you can't have the one without the other.
 So if you try to pursue, to gain the positive, and to deny, get rid of the negative, it's
 as if you were trying to arrange everything in this room so that it was all up and nothing
 was down.
 You can't do it.
 You set yourself an absolutely insoluble problem.
 Because the basis of life is spectrum.
 And consider the spectrum of colors.
 When you think of a spectrum, in what form do you think of it?
 Most people think of it as a ribbon with red at one end and purple at the other.
 But the spectrum is actually a circle.
 Because purple is the mixture of red and blue.
 It goes right round.
 And so in this way, all sensation, all feeling, all experience whatsoever, is moving through
 spectra.
 You don't only have the spectrum of color, you have a spectrum of sound.
 You have various complex spectra of texture, of smell, of taste.
 And you're constantly operating through all the possible variations of experience.
 And it implies that you can't know one end of the spectrum without also knowing the other.
 So if you wanted, say your favorite color is red, and you wanted only red, and you had
 to exclude, therefore, blue and purple, without blue and purple you can't have red.
 Behind, of course, all the various colors in the spectrum is the white light.
 And behind everything that we experience, all our various sensations of sound, of color,
 of shape, of touch, there's the white light.
 And I'm using the phrase "the white light" rather symbolically.
 I don't mean it literally.
 But there is common to all sensations what you might call the basic sense.
 And if you explore back into your sensations and reduce them all to the basic sense, you're
 on your way to reality, to what underlies everything, to what is the ground of being
 the basic energy.
 And to the extent that you realize this and know that you are it, you transcend, you overcome,
 you surpass the illusion that you are simply John Doe, Mary Smith, or what have you.
 So then, the Buddha, as the man who woke up, is regarded as one Buddha among a potentiality
 of myriads of Buddhas.
 Everybody can be a Buddha.
 Everybody has in himself the capacity to wake up from the illusion of being simply this
 separate individual.
 The Buddha made his doctrine very easy to understand, because in those days there wasn't
 very much writing being done, and people committed things to memory.
 And so he put his doctrine or method in various formulae, which are very easy to remember.
 And I'm going to explain it in those terms so that you can remember it just as well.
 He of course practiced the various disciplines that were offered in the Hinduism of his time,
 but he found in a certain way that they had become unsatisfactory, because they had overemphasized
 asceticism, had overemphasized putting up with as much pain as you can.
 There was a feeling, you see, that if the problem of life is pain, let us suffer.
 And this is the root of the ascetics, you see, who lie on beds of nails, who hold a
 hand up forever and ever and ever, who eat only one banana a day, who renounce sex, who
 do all these weird things, because they feel that if they head right into pain and don't
 become afraid of it, but suffer as much pain as possible, they will by this method overcome
 the problem of pain, and they will set themselves free from anxiety.
 There's a certain sense in that, as you can obviously see.
 Supposing, for example, you have absolutely no fear of pain, you have no anxieties, you
 have no hang-ups, how strong you would be.
 Nobody could stop you.
 You would have ultimate courage.
 But the Buddha was very subtle.
 He is really the first historical psychologist, the great psychologist, psychotherapist.
 He is very subtle, because he saw that a person who is fighting pain, who is trying to get
 rid of pain, is still really fundamentally afraid of it.
 And therefore, the way of asceticism is not right.
 Equally, the way of hedonism, of seeking pleasure, is not right.
 So the Buddha's doctrine is called the Middle Way, which is neither ascetic nor hedonistic.
 So it's summed up in what are called the Four Noble Truths.
 And the first is called dukkha.
 Dukkha means suffering in a very generalized sense.
 You could call it chronic frustration.
 And it is saying that life as lived by most people is dukkha.
 Is an attempt, in other words, to solve insoluble problems.
 Try to draw a square circle.
 You can't, because the problem itself is meaningless.
 Try to arrange the things in this room so that they're all up and none of them down.
 It is meaningless.
 Such a problem cannot ever be solved.
 So try to have light without dark, or dark without light.
 It can never be solved.
 So the attempt to solve problems that are basically insoluble, and to work at it through
 your whole life, that is dukkha.
 Now he went on to analyze this, that there are what he called three signs of being.
 The first is dukkha itself, frustration.
 The second is anitya.
 And this means, the letter A in Sanskrit at the beginning of a word is often the equivalent
 of our non.
 So nitya means permanent, anitya means impermanent.
 That every manifestation of life is impermanent.
 And therefore, our quest to make things permanent, to straighten everything out, to get it fixed,
 is an impossible and insoluble problem.
 And therefore, we experience dukkha, or this sense of fundamental pain and frustration,
 as a result of trying to make things permanent.
 And the third sign of being is called anatman.
 Now you know from my talk on Hinduism that the word atman means self.
 Anatman means therefore non-self.
 That there is in you no real ego.
 Now I've explained that already.
 I've explained in talking about Hinduism that the idea of the ego is a social institution.
 It has no physical reality.
 It is simply, the ego is your symbol of yourself, just as the word water is a noise, which symbolizes
 a certain liquid reality.
 So the idea of the ego, the role you play, who you are, is not the same as your living
 organism.
 Your ego has absolutely nothing to do with the way you color your eyes, shape your body,
 circulate your blood.
 That's the real you, but it's certainly not your ego, because you don't even know how
 it's done from the standpoint of your conscious attention.
 So the idea of anatman is firstly that the ego is unreal.
 There isn't one.
 Now then, this then is the first truth.
 There is this situation that we have dukkha, or frustration, because we are fighting the
 changingness of things, and because we don't realize that the ego, the I, is unreal.
 The second of the four noble truths is then called trishna.
 Trishna is a Sanskrit word again, and is the root of our word thirst.
 And it's usually translated desire, but it is better translated clinging, grabbing, or
 there's an excellent modern American slangy word, hang up.
 That is exactly what trishna is, a hang up.
 Trishna is clutching, as for example what we call smother love, when a mother is so
 afraid that her children may get into trouble, that she protects them excessively, and as
 a result of this, prevents them from growing.
 Or when lovers cling to each other excessively, and have to sign documents that they will
 curse and swear to love each other always, they are in a state of trishna.
 And this is the same thing as holding on to yourself so tightly that you strangle yourself.
 Now so the second truth then about trishna is that the cause of dukkha is trishna.
 Clinging is what makes suffering.
 If you don't recognize that this whole world is a phantasmagoria, an amazing illusion, a
 weaving of smoke, and you try to hold on to it, you see, then you start suffering, seriously
 suffering.
 Trishna is in turn based upon avidya.
 The same negative a.
 Vidya, from the root vid, means knowledge, as in the Latin video and the English vision.
 Avidya, therefore, is ignorance.
 Gnosis, gn, means of course to know.
 To knowledge is the same thing as gnosis in Greek.
 To know.
 So this is not to know, to ignore, to overlook.
 And I explained in the first talk in this series how we ignore all kinds of things,
 because we notice only what we think noteworthy, and therefore our vision of everything is
 highly selective.
 We pick out certain things and say that's what's there, just as we select and notice
 the figure rather than the background.
 Sometimes I draw this on the blackboard and ask the question, "What have I drawn?"
 What would you say?
 What have I drawn?
 A circle.
 Any other suggestions?
 A hole in the blackboard.
 Yeah, you're getting the point.
 I've drawn a wall with a hole in it, you see.
 But ordinarily, you've been reading my books.
 But ordinarily people see the ball, the circle, the ring, or whatever, and never think of
 the background, because they ignore the background.
 Just as one thinks that you can have pleasure without pain.
 You want pleasure of the figure, and don't realize that pain is the background.
 So avidya is this state of restricted consciousness, restricted attention, that moves through life
 unaware of the fact that to be implies not to be, and vice versa.
 So now the third noble truth is called nirvana.
 This word means "blow out."
 Nira is a negative word, again, like "a."
 Vana is blowing, so it's a kind of outblowing.
 Now in breathing, you know that breath is life.
 The Greek word, you may pronounce it "pnoema" or "pnefma," is the same as spirit.
 And spirit means breath.
 In the book of Genesis, when God had made the clay figurine that was later to be Adam,
 he breathed the breath of life into its nostrils, and it became alive, because life is breath.
 But now, if you hold your breath, you lose it.
 He that would save his life will lose it.
 So breathe in, breathe in, breathe in, get as much air as you can, and trishna, cling,
 and you lose it.
 So nirvana means breathe out.
 What a relief that was.
 The sigh of relief.
 Let it go, because it'll come back to you if you let it go.
 But if you don't let it go, you'll just suffocate.
 So a person in the state of nirvana is what we might call a blown-out person, like blow
 your mind.
 Let it go.
 Don't cling.
 And then you're in the state of nirvana.
 And I reemphasize the point.
 This is not...
 I'm not preaching, see?
 Not saying this is what you ought to do.
 I'm simply pointing out a state of affairs that is so.
 There's no moralism in this whatsoever.
 It's simply pointing out, like, if you put your hand into the fire, you'll get burned.
 You can get burned if you want to.
 It's okay.
 But if so happens that you don't want to get burned, then you don't put your hand in the
 fire.
 So in the same way, if you don't want to be in a state of anxiety all the time, and again
 I emphasize, if you'd like to be anxious, it's perfectly all right.
 See, Buddhism never hurries anyone on.
 They say, "You've got all eternity through which to live in various forms, and therefore
 you don't have just one life in which you've got to avoid eternal damnation.
 You can go running around the wheel and the rat race and play that game just as long as
 you want to, so long as you think it's fun.
 But if there comes a time when you don't think it's fun, you don't have to do it."
 So I wouldn't say to anyone who disagrees with me and who says, "Well, I think we ought
 to engage the forces of evil in battle and put this world to right," and so on and so
 forth, and arrange everything in this world so that it's all up, try it, please.
 It's perfectly okay.
 Go on doing that.
 But if you see that it's futile, then you can let go.
 Don't try to cling.
 Relax.
 And if you do that, you're in the state of nirvana, and you become a Buddha.
 And of course it means that you become a rather astonishing person.
 You may, of course, be subtle about it and make like you're a very ordinary person, so
 that you don't get people mixed up.
 And so in Buddhism, the Buddha explained that his doctrine, his method, was a raft.
 It's sometimes called a yana, the word y-a-n-a, yana, means a vehicle, a conveyance.
 And when you cross a river on a raft, and you get to the other shore, you don't pick
 up the raft and carry it on your back.
 You leave it behind.
 But people who are what I would call hooked on religion are always on the raft.
 They're going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth on the raft.
 So the clergyman tends to turn into a ferryman, who's always on the raft and never gets over
 to the other shore himself.
 Now something to be said for that, because how are we going to get the raft back to the
 first shore to bring over the other people?
 See?
 Somebody has to volunteer to take the back journey.
 But he must be awfully careful to realize that the real objective is to get the people
 across and set them free.
 If you dedicate yourself to ferrying people across, don't ask them to come back on the
 raft with you, because you'll get overcrowded, and people will think that the raft is the
 goal rather than the other shore.
 So I find this in actual practice, that when clergymen do not ever ask for money-- it's
 all right, like a doctor who simply charges a fee, says, you come to me, you pay me so
 much.
 But the clergyman says-- he doesn't say pay me so much.
 He says, we would like your pledge, your voluntary contribution.
 See?
 And then nobody knows what to give.
 That's the idea of the raft.
 Now then, the fourth noble truth is called marga.
 This word means path.
 And the way of Buddhism is often called the noble eightfold path, because there are eight
 phases.
 I won't say steps, because they're not sequential.
 Samyak is a very curious phrase.
 It doesn't mean right in our sense of correct.
 Some is the same, really, as our word some-- total, complete, all-inclusive.
 We might use the word integrated, as when we say a person has integrity.
 A person who has integrity, we mean he's all of a piece.
 He's not divided against himself.
 So in this sense of samyak drishti, this is related to the word darshan, which means a
 point of view or viewing.
 When you go to visit a great guru or teacher, you have darshan.
 You look at him.
 And you offer your reverence to him.
 This is darshan.
 Many senses of it.
 But it means simply to view.
 Look at the view.
 So the samyak darshan is the complete view.
 For example, let's take the constellation called the Big Dipper.
 We look at it from a fairly restricted zone in space.
 And it always seems, whatever the season of the year, because we're so far away from it,
 that those stars in the Big Dipper are in the same position.
 But imagine looking at it from somewhere else in space altogether, and those stars would
 not look like a dipper.
 They'd be in another position.
 Now then, what is the true position of those stars?
 Don't you see there isn't one?
 Because wherever you look, the position alters.
 You could say that the true situation of those stars is how they are looked at from all points
 of view, all possible points of view.
 Inside the constellation, looking outwards.
 Outside the constellation, looking inwards.
 From everywhere and everywhere.
 But you see, there is no such thing as the truth.
 The world, in other words, is not existing independently of those who witness it.
 Because the world is precisely the relationship between the world and its witnesses.
 And so if there are no eyes in this world, the sun doesn't make any light, nor do the
 stars.
 So what is, is a relationship.
 You can, for example, prop up two sticks by leaning them against each other, and they
 will stand.
 But only by depending on each other.
 Take one away and the other falls.
 So in Buddhism it is taught that everything in this universe depends on everything else.
 That we have a kind of a huge network, and this is called the doctrine of mutual interdependence.
 All of it hangs on you, and you hang on all of it, just as the two sticks support each
 other.
 And this is conveyed in a symbol which is called Indra's net.
 Imagine a multi-dimensional spider's web, in the early morning covered with dew drops.
 And every dew drop contains the reflection of all the other dew drops.
 And in each reflected dew drop, the reflections of all the other dew drops in that reflection,
 and so ad infinitum.
 That is the Buddhist conception of the universe, in an image.
 The Japanese call that "jiji-muge."
 A "ji" means a thing event, a happening.
 So between happening and happening, "mu" there is no "ge" separation.
 Jiji-muge.
 Now, so the first phase of the Eightfold Path has to do with one's view, understanding
 of the world.
 The second phase has to do with action, how you act.
 Buddhist idea of ethics is based on expediency.
 If you are engaged in the way of liberation, and you want to clarify your consciousness,
 doing that is inconsistent with certain kinds of action.
 So every Buddhist makes five vows, five precepts.
 And you may perhaps have heard the Buddhist formula of taking what is called panchasila,
 the five precepts.
 And they take what are called tisarana, the three refuges, and the five precepts.
 The refuges are the Buddha, the dharma, the doctrine, and the sangha, the fellowship of
 all those who are on the way.
 So the priest, the bhikkhu, the Buddhist monk, and the laypeople will chant the formula.
 Buddham saranam gacchami, dhammam saranam gacchami, sangham saranam gacchami.
 Those are the three refuges, the Buddha, the dharma, and the sangha.
 Then they take the five precepts.
 panatipata vairamane sikapadam samadhyami adinadana vairamane sikapadam samadhyami
 kamesu micchacara vairamane sikapadam samadhyami musa vada vairamane sikapadam samadhyami
 kamesu micchacara vairamane surameryamajapamadatana vairamane sikapadam samadhyami
 So they take these five precepts.
 Panatipata, I undertake the precept to abstain from taking life.
 Adinadana, I undertake the precept to abstain from taking what is not given.
 Kamesu micchacara, I undertake the precept to abstain from exploiting the passions.
 Musa vada, I undertake the precept to abstain from falsifying speech.
 Surameryamajapamadatana, I undertake the precept to abstain from being intoxicated by suramerya
 and majapamadatana, whatever they were.
 I presume Tadi, which is alcohol, I don't know what else it was.
 Nobody does now.
 Because you see, if you start killing people or taking life, you're in trouble.
 You set up an opposition and you've got to become involved in taking care of it.
 If you start stealing, you worry people.
 You upset people's orientation in life, because if you suddenly come back home for dinner
 and find somebody's stolen your table, where are you going to serve dinner?
 If you exploit your passions, it means that when you feel bored, and somehow that life
 is a little bit empty, you say, well, now what are we going to do this evening?
 Let's go and get stuffed.
 A lot of people who suffer from obesity are trying to simply fill their empty psyche by
 stuffing themselves with food.
 Well, it's the wrong cure.
 So likewise, musavada, if you start telling lies to everybody, you know what happens when
 you start telling lies.
 You have to tell extra lies to cover up the first one, and you get into the most hopeless
 misunderstanding.
 Speech collapses.
 And of course, the intoxication is the same problem as the exploitation of the passions.
 So there's a purely kind of practical, expedient, utilitarian approach to morals.
 There's another side to this which doesn't enter into the precepts, which I will explain
 later.
 So that's the third phase of the Eightfold Path.
 No, the second phase.
 Then the third phase has to do with your mind, with your state of consciousness.
 And this has to do with what we would ordinarily call meditation.
 There are the two final, the seventh and eighth aspects of the path, are called samyak smriti
 and samyak samadhi.
 Smriti means recollection.
 That's the best English word for it.
 Now do you understand, the word recollect is to gather together what has been scattered.
 What is the opposite of remember?
 Obviously, dismember.
 What has been chopped up and scattered becomes remembered.
 So in the Christian scheme, do this in remembrance of me.
 You see, the Christ has been sacrificed, chopped up.
 But the Mass is celebrated in remembrance.
 One of the old liturgies says, "The wheat which has been scattered all over the hills
 and grows up is gathered again into the bread."
 Remembered.
 Go back to your Hindu basis.
 The world is regarded as the dismemberment of the self, the Brahman, the Godhead.
 The one is dismembered into the many.
 So remembrance is realizing again that each single member of the many is really the one.
 So that's recollection.
 You can think of it, too, in another way, and it's really the same way if you think
 it through.
 I'm going to leave you with a few puzzles so that you can think them through and I won't
 explain them.
 But another way is to be recollected, is to be completely here and now.
 Are you here and now?
 Are you really here?
 There was a wise old boy who used to give lectures on these things, and he would get
 up and not say a word.
 He would just look at the audience.
 He'd examine every person individually, and they'd all start feeling uncomfortable.
 He wouldn't say anything, he'd look at them all.
 And then he'd suddenly say, "Wake up!
 You're all asleep, and if you don't wake up I won't give you any lecture."
 Are you here, recollected?
 See most people aren't.
 They're bothering about yesterday and wondering what they're going to do tomorrow, and aren't
 all here.
 That's a definition of sanity, to be all there.
 So to be recollected is to be completely alert, available for the present, because that's
 the only place that you are ever going to be in.
 Yesterday doesn't exist, tomorrow never comes.
 There is only today.
 A great Sanskrit sort of invocation says, "Look to this day, for it is life."
 In its brief course lie all the realities of our existence.
 Yesterday is but a memory.
 Tomorrow is only a vision.
 Look well, then, to this day.
 Such is the salutation of the dawn.
 So smriti means, then, recollectedness in the sense of being all here, in the sense
 that this is the only where there is.
 Then beyond that comes samadhi.
 Then notice the presence of this word, S-A-M, sam.
 Samadhi is integrated consciousness in which there is no further separation between the
 knower and the known, the subject and the object.
 You are what you know.
 Now we think, in the ordinary way, that we are the witnesses of a constantly changing
 panorama of experience, from which we as the knowers of this, in a way, stand aside and
 watch it.
 We think of our minds as a kind of tablet upon which experience writes a record, and
 the tablet is always there, although the experience goes by.
 And eventually the experience, by writing so much on the tablet, wears it out.
 It's all scratched away, and you die.
 But actually, if you will investigate this, and you have to experiment on this, because
 I cannot explain it to you in words, you can only find it out for yourself, there is no
 difference between the knower and the known.
 When you say, "I see a sight," "I feel a feeling," you are using redundant language.
 I see implies the sight.
 I feel implies the feeling.
 You hear sounds?
 No.
 You just hear.
 Or you can say, "There are sounds."
 Either one will do.
 So you will find, if you thoroughly investigate the process of experiencing, that the experiencing
 is the same as the experiencer.
 And this is the state of samadhi.
 I put it originally in this form, that the organism and the environment are a single
 behavioral process.
 So likewise is the knower and the known.
 So you, as someone who is aware, and all that you are aware of is one process.
 That is the state of samadhi.
 And you get to that state by the practice of meditation.
 Every Buddha figure practically is seen in the sitting posture of meditation, which is
 sitting down quietly and being aware of all that goes on without comment, without thinking
 about it.
 And when you stop categorizing, verbalizing, talking to yourself inside your head, naturally
 the separations between, for example, knower and known, self and other, simply vanish.
 Can you point to the difference between my five fingers?
 Where will you put your finger if you want to point to the difference?
 You see, the idea of difference is an abstraction.
 It just isn't there in the physical world.
 Of course, that's not saying that the fingers are joined like a duck's claws with a web.
 But that, it's just that.
 They're not the same.
 That's an idea.
 They're not different.
 That's an idea.
 And these ideas just aren't here.
 See?
 You can't point to it.
 You can't put your finger on it.
 Get then to the state of affairs where you see the world free from concepts.
 That's what Buddhists mean by void.
 And they say the world is basically, they use the phrase shunya.
 That has a meaning of like empty, void.
 Everything is shunya.
 This has certainly also the meaning of anitya, of transience, but basically it means you
 can't catch the world in a conceptual net.
 Just as if you try to catch water in a net, it all slips through.
 If you try to tie up water in a paper package or grab it in your hands, it all flows through.
 So shunya, it doesn't really mean that the world itself, that the energy of the world
 is nothing at all.
 It means that no concept of it is valid.
 You cannot make any one idea or belief or doctrine or system or theory tie the thing
 up.
 So if you go through this and you get completely blown out and released and are in the state
 of nirvana, for no reason that anybody can explain, just as, for example, as I pointed
 out, when you see that you can't change yourself, you can't lift yourself up by your own bootstraps,
 you then get a new access of psychic energy.
 So in exactly the same way, when you get to this state of nirvana, there wells up from
 within you what the Buddhists call karuna or compassion, the sense that you aren't
 different from everybody else.
 Everybody else's suffering is your suffering.
 And so this tremendous sense of solidarity with all other beings arises, so that he who
 reaches nirvana doesn't, as it were, withdraw into a sort of isolated peace, but is always
 coming back into the world, into the difficulties, into the problems of life, in compassion for
 everyone else.
 You can't be saved alone, because you're not alone.
 You are the whole cosmos.
 Thank you.
 You've been listening to Following the Middle Way with Alan Watts from the Alan Watts Radio
 Series #6 on Buddhism.
 For information on how to obtain the radio series on cassette tape, call 1-800-969-2887.
 Or you can write to the Electronic University, P.O.
 Box 2309, San Anselmo, California, 94979.
 When you call or write, please indicate the name of your local station, that you heard
 the program Following the Middle Way from the Alan Watts Radio Series.
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{END}
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Model Load: 0.66 sec
Decoding  : 3.01 sec
Transcribe: 4504.57 sec
Total Time: 4508.23 sec