It seems to me, from reading many spiritual books, that they all add to a certain ripeness, but that they don’t need to be remembered, that in a certain way the content is of limited importance. It is the flavour, the imbibing of the words of the master, the connection with the inner guru that ultimately matters. Or perhaps the inner Buddha, if you prefer that formulation.
I spent some weeks reading Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj’s book ‘I Am That’, and in the end though I enjoyed it, the words lead me into my own mind, and not into a connection with bliss. Having finished the book and tried a few other readings for several days, none of which satisfied, this morning I tried listening to an Osho discourse. The response was immediate, there was a homecoming and a bliss.
One bit I recall from the lecture was where Osho talked about “writing love letters to existence”, which caused an immediate sense of recognition to arise. It was like I was released from several other influences in my energy, and I felt that I somewhat recovered, that I was freed a bit more from the mind. For me these things often come from sleep, that in the morning I am cleansed and fresh, energetically cleansed and that my mind is clear of restlessness and other negative influences.
The things that happen beyond the mind are mysterious, and often the best you can do is remain quiet and observe. The minds responses do not serve you well in spiritual spaces, and meditating over books is a technique that has limits. Energies that bring a cool bliss often come with blessings and aid, and should be aided in their tasks.