Believing the Impossible Before Breakfast Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

11 February 1978 pm in Chuang Tzu Auditorium

Dhyana means meditation. And this is the right age when you should start meditating, just when you are coming closer to your fourteenth year. You are twelve; these two years will be of immense value to you. After each seven years the mind changes. The fourteenth year will be one of great change, so if one is ready much becomes possible; if one is not ready then one goes on missing the change. And all that is beautiful always happens only when you are passing that period of change. At seven the childhood disappears; at fourteen the adolescence is gone, and then at twenty-one and at twenty-eight things go on changing; each seven years there is a cycle. So start meditating. And by meditation I mean that whenever you are sitting silently, start swaying just like you did right now. Feel like a tree and sway. As you sway and as you feel like a tree, you will disappear as a human being; in that disappearance is meditation. There are a thousand and one ways to disappear. I am giving you the most simple, one that you can do very easily. Dance, and disappear into the dance; whirl, and disappear into the whirl. Jog, run, and disappear into the jogging: let the jogging be there and forget about yourself. That forgetfulness iS meditation, and that is possible at this age. Then there are different doors to meditation which become possible later on, but to a child forgetfulness is meditation. So forget yourself in anything, get lost in anything and you will find meditation coming to you. Dhyana means meditation and yogi means on the path of ­ on the path of meditation. ... Become part of the family. Start meditating and dancing and singing and forget the whole world. Right? [Osho tells a new sannyasin that sannyas is just a beginning, a seed, not an arrival but a departure. The significance of a new name is to disconnect you from your past.]

The change of dress is also symbolic ­ much is hidden in it. Man almost lives in his clothes. The body is also clothing; the mind too ­ it is a little deeper but still it is clothing. Man is wrapped in many clothes: he is like an onion, layer upon layer. One has to go on peeling it. This is the beginning of the peeling of your onion. This is the first layer that you drop: you change your clothes; you change many other clothes later on. When one goes on peeling the onion a moment comes when all the layers have been thrown. Only emptiness is left in your hand. That emptiness is you and that emptiness is bliss.... Deva means divine, vajra means thunderbolt ­ divine thunderbolt. It is a Buddhist approach towards reality. Buddha has said that truth happens like a thunderbolt. You cannot manufacture it, the mind cannot manage it: you can only receive it, it is a happening. You can be ready and open for it. It comes when it comes, and when it comes it is a thunderbolt because it kills you, destroys you and creates you anew. It simply destroys you as you are and creates you as you should be. It burns all that is rubbish; only the pure gold is saved. It is a very very uprooting experience. That's why people are afraid of religion; there is a reason in it. They are afraid because religion, real religion, is death and a far deeper death than the so-called death. In the ordinary death you simply change the body but you remain the same. You simply change the house, you move from one house to another. But in the religious death you are no more; you simply disappear without leaving a trace behind. But then something great happens, something vast, enormous. When you are not, god becomes possible. He can happen only when you have gone: your absence becomes his presence. So it is really a thunderbolt, and one has to be very courageous to receive it. That's why people have created false religion, they have created tiny religions ­ the temple, the church, the mosque, where they can even manage their gods. They worship, they pray, but it is all ritual; they don't mean it. In fact they have created these substitutes to befool themselves and others. The real religion is a preparation for death, for utter death. So let me be your death! Only then can the master function, and only then can the master help the disciple. This is the meaning of surrender, this is the meaning of sannyas: the disciple simply gives a signal, 'I am ready ­ if you kill me, I will not resist.' But in that death, life abundant happens. Only the false dies and the real arrives. It is a bargain! [A sannyasin says she wants to study Osho's words in relation to the works of the poet, Rilke, whose ideas she finds akin to those of Osho.] It is always good to enjoy poetry, but there is no need to go into its analysis ­ that is futile. You will destroy even the enjoyment that you are getting from it. Poetry is poetry; don't reduce it to philosophy because then it becomes mediocre. Poetry is like a bird on the wing: it is beautiful in the open sky, but when you catch the bird and put it in a cage it is no more beautiful because the freedom is gone. And concepts are cages, thoughts are cages. Poetry is beautiful because it is thoughtless, it is illogical; that's where its beauty is. It only hints ­ it doesn't say much. It only hints and that hint is enough. It is very indirect, it is not direct; that is the way of poetry. It just comes like a soft breeze, you cannot see it but you can feel it. You are touched

by it, you are moved by it, but then the mind tries to grab it and wants to dissect it and find why it is so beautiful, what is so attractive in it, why it is fascinating. Then you are moving away from poetry. And whatsoever you write will be prose, it will not be poetry, because when you write about poetry it becomes prose. You cannot write about poetry without becoming logical, rational. My suggestion is: enjoy music, enjoy poetry, enjoy nature, but avoid the temptation to dissect it. If that temptation can be avoided, you can become a poet one day. But if you can't avoid that temptation then you Will never be a poet.. In the universities poetry is murdered because people dissect it, analyse it, interpret it, categorise it, compare it with other poets and other thinkers; then all is lost! If you are enjoying something, enjoy it. Whenever you want just open the book and go into it, but there is no need to philosophise about it. And don't compare it either, because comparison is futile. Don't compare a rose with a marigold. They are both flowers so certainly they have certain similarities, but that is where their similarities end. They are unique too. A marigold is a marigold... the gold of it, such a dancing gold. The rose is a rose... that rosiness, that liveliness. Both are flowers so both are similar, you can find similarities, but there is no point in going into them. You may lose track of the uniqueness, and the uniqueness is beautiful. Similarities don't make much sense. There are people who go on finding similarities: what is similar in the Koran and the Bible, and what is similar in the Bible and the Vedas. These are stupid people; they waste their time and they will waste other people's time. Always look at the unique and avoid the temptation to compare it, because comparison will make it mundane, mediocre. Jesus turned water into wine. That is the miracle of a poet, that is poetry: turning water into wine. Ordinary words become so intoxicating when they come from a poet that one can be drunk. But then there are professors, pundits and scholars who do just the opposite: they are experts in turning wine into water. They are the real anti-Christs. That's what you want to do: you will turn the wine into water! Don't do that! If you can't turn water into wine, it is better not to do anything. But never turn wine into water. Enjoy! [A sannyasin says that he's been jerking a lot lately when he sits still. Osho studies his energy.] It's perfectly good; allow it. You have been holding it a little, you have been trying to control it; an unconscious desire to stop it is there. It looks bizarre and one wants to stop these things, mm? ­ it looks a little crazy, it is not. It is beautiful energy, and it will go only when you have allowed it to its maximum, optimum. Then it will go ­ its work will be done. You are controlling it so the work is not done; and it will continue, it can be prolonged for years. But it will go if you allow it totally. So for these six months don't be worried; allow it totally, co-operate with it. When it comes just go into it and enjoy the feel of it. It will be very cleansing and it will very deeply connect your centres. It will become like a pulsation from one end to the other, and you will have the same joy as comes out of sexual orgasm. If it goes rightly, with no hindrance from your mind, the ecstasy is far deeper than any sexual orgasm can give without any wastage. No energy is lost in it; in fact, the energy is conserved. It is the phenomenon called kundalini. The name doesn't matter much but it is the phenomenon that has been called kundalini. This is what is meant by saying that the serpent is uncoiling itself inside you. The energy has a reservoir at the sex centre; that is the lowest centre. And the highest centre is in the head, sahasrar. Between these two is the whole play of life, the whole spectrum. Whenever it happens that these two centres vibrate on the same wavelength, there is joy.

That's what happens in sexual orgasm, they start vibrating in the same rhythm; that's what happens in ecstasy, they vibrate in the same rhythm. There is only one difference: in sexual orgasm the predominant factor is muladhar, the sexual centre. It vibrates, and with it the seventh centre, sahasrar, vibrates. But the first centre remains the master and the seventh simply follows it, echoes it. In spiritual ecstasy, in samadhi, just the opposite happens: the sahasrar becomes the dominant factor, it is the master, and the sexual centre simply vibrates as an echo. That is the only difference, otherwise both orgasms are the same; but still that difference is big. Who the master is makes much difference. When the highest is the master and the lowest is the servant, that is spiritual ecstasy. When the lowest is the master and the highest has to function as the servant, that is sexuality. But one thing is similar, that both pulsate together. In sexual orgasm that pulsation can happen only for a moment because the master cannot be reduced to a slave for long and the slave cannot pretend to be a master for long. But when the master has taken its place and the slave has taken its place and they are where they belong, it can become a timeless phenomenon; one can go on pulsating in it continuously, day in, day out. A spiritual man lives in orgasm... his being is orgasmic. Something beautiful is on the way ­ don't prevent it!

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