Chapter 16 Satori & Samadhi

What are the experiential differences between Saturation and Samadhi?

What is the experiential difference between satori (a glimpse of enlightenment) and samadhi (cosmic consciousness)? Satori: A term used in Japanese Zen Buddhism, referring to the awakening of inner intuition.

Samadhi begins as a gap, but it never ends. A gap always begins and ends; it has boundaries: a beginning and an end. But Samadhi begins as a gap and then continues forever, without end. So, if what happens comes as a gap and has no end, then it is Samadhi. But if it is a complete gap—with a beginning and an end—then it is Saturya, and that is the difference. If it is just a glimpse, just a gap, and that gap disappears; if something is like something enclosed in parentheses, and the parentheses are complete—you glimpse it and it comes back; you jump into it and it comes back; if something happens and then disappears, then that is Saturya. It is a glimpse, a glimpse of Samadhi, but not Samadhi.

Samadhi means the beginning of knowledge, but there is no end.

In India, we don't have a direct equivalent to Saturya, so sometimes, when the gap is large, one might mistake Saturya for Samadhi. But it's never that; it's just a glimpse. You enter the universe and perceive it, and then everything disappears. Of course, you won't be the same again, and you will never be the same again. Something has penetrated you, something has been added to you, and you can never be the same again. But what changed you still can't stay with you; it's just a reminder, a memory, just a glimpse.

If you can remember it—if you can say, "I already knew that moment"—then it is merely a glimpse, because in that moment of Samadhi, you will not remember it. You can never then say, "I already knew it," because with that knowing, the one who knows disappears. Only in the glimpse does the one who knows remain.

Therefore, the one who knows can preserve this glimpse as a memory; he can cherish it, yearn for it, desire it, and strive to experience it again, but "he" is still there. The one who glimpsed, the one who saw, is still there. It has become a memory, and now this memory will haunt you, follow you, and demand that phenomenon again and again.

In that moment of Samadhi, you don't try to remember it. Samadhi can never become part of your memory because the person who was there in the past is gone. It's like Zen practitioners saying, "The old person is gone, and the new person has come..." But these two people will never meet, so there can be no memory there. The old has disappeared, the new has come, they haven't met, because only when the old disappears can the new come. At that moment, it's not a memory. You don't dwell on it, you don't eagerly pursue or yearn for it. So, just as you are, you are at peace, with nothing to desire.