Chapter 11

I refused that beautiful palace. I still feel sorry that I had to refuse the only man who has come with an offer, without even asking for money. Yet I had to. I certainly feel sorry for him…. I had to refuse because I had decided, and once I decide, rightly or wrongly, I cannot go back. I cannot cancel it; it is not in my blood. It is just a kind of stubbornness.

Chapter 12

with whomsoever I love, I forget that I have to behave. Then I start doing or saying things which are okay if I am alone, and that’s what love is – to be with someone as if one were alone – but sometimes it can be hard on the other person.

Chapter 13

Unless you love someone and he then dies, you cannot really encounter death.
When love plus death surrounds you, there is a transformation, an immense mutation… as if a new being is born. You are never the same again. But people do not love, and because they do not love, they can’t experience death the way I experienced it. Without love, death does not give you the keys to existence. With love, it hands over to you the keys to all that is.

I don’t remember a single instance where he even tried to interfere with my being. He simply withdrew. If he thought what I was doing was wrong, he withdrew and closed his eyes.
He said, ”You will not understand today, but perhaps someday. I close my eyes so that I don’t prevent you from doing whatsoever you are doing, whether it is right or wrong. It is not my business to prevent you. I have taken you away from your mother and father. If I cannot even give you freedom, then what was the point in taking you away from your parents? I only took you so that they would not interfere with you. How can I interfere?
”But you know,” he went on, ”it is a great temptation sometimes. You are such a temptation. I never knew, otherwise I would not have taken the risk. Somehow you have a genius for finding the wrong things to do. I wonder,” he said, ”how you go on finding so many things to do wrong? Either I am completely insane… or you are.”

But when you are in a madhouse, and you are the only one who is not mad, what can you do except say to everybody, ”Relax, I am a madman, don’t take me seriously.” That’s what I have been doing my whole life.

He laughed and said, ”You can enter the house. It is your home. If I cannot resist interfering with you then I will leave the house. You need not.”
That’s exactly what he did. Just two months after this dialogue he was no longer in this world. He not only left the house, he left every house, even the body, which was his real house.
I loved the man because he loved my freedom.

Love with freedom – if you have it, you are a king or a queen. That is the real kingdom of God; love with freedom. Love gives you the roots into the earth, and freedom gives you the wings.
My grandfather gave me both. He gave his love to me, more than he ever had given to either my mother or even my grandmother; and he gave me freedom, which is the greatest gift. As he was dying he gave me his ring and with a tear in his eye told me, ”I don’t have anything else to give you.”
I said, ”Nana, you have already given me the most precious gift.”