Gods Got a Thing About you Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

12 September 1978 pm in Chuang Tzu Auditorium

[To a new sannyasin Osho says:] Just do a few groups, meditate and forget everything of the past. for the time that you are here, be totally here, as if the past has never existed; then the benefit will be immense. If we can put the past aside great transformation is possible, and immediately possible. The past functions as a barrier and it is a big load that we have to carry. Ninety percent of our energy is wasted in carrying the load of the past, and the little bit that remains becomes obsessed with the future. So for the present nothing is left ­ and only the present is. There is no way to be in the past and there is no way to be in the future; the only way is to be in the present. Even when we are not in the present, we are in the present. We cannot leave it, but in our imagination, in our memory, we can wander. While we are wandering in our imagination and memory we are in the present, but that wandering takes so much energy, dissipates so much energy, that nothing is left for the reality. So the most fundamental thing for being here is: to be here... and to be now. Once you have tasted living moment to moment then you will never again allow the past to take possession of you, or the future. And the future is nothing but a reflection of the past, a projection of the past. They both remain together and they both go together. And between the two the present is almost crushed. That is where God is crucified: between the past and the future. Jesus was crucified between two thieves. To me that is very symbolic: one thief is the past, the other thief is the future. They are thieves because they steal your life energy. They leave you empty, hollow. And between these two thieves, God is crushed. All that sannyas means is to start living moment to moment, as if there has never been any yesterday and there is going to be no tomorrow. When this day is enough unto itself great celebration explodes. And nothing else has to be done; it happens of its own accord. We just have to become available herenow... and the meeting. The real in you starts meeting with the real outside you; the present in

you meets with the present outside you. That meeting is the union of the devotee with God, of the seeker with the truth. And once that union is tasted then one can never be a victim of old illusions again. So while you are here just forget the whole past. Be here and live day to day. Within a few days you will see what unburdening happens. One becomes so weightless that one can almost fly. And much is going to happen ­ just get ready for it! ----­ ******** ----­ Veet means beyond, sandhano means seeking. God Cannot be sought; God is beyond all seeking because God is in the seeker himself. If God were outside then he could have been sought, then we could have searched for him and found him. But he is not separate from us, so it is as futile as searching for oneself. The more you, search, the farther away you will be. The more you search, the more maddening will become your search because more frustration will be coming. Each step will take you into a new failure. The search for God can become a cause for madness because God is not an object, God is not there so that you can seek and search and find. God is in the seeker himself, God exists as you, not separate from you; it is your very consciousness, it is your very life. It is at the very center of your being; hence God is beyond search. When all search ends, when seeking ceases, God is found. There is a famous saying of Lao Tzu: "Seek and you will certainly miss. Seek not and it is here and it has always been here." The greatest moment in life is the moment when all seeking disappears, when one is simply herenow ­ no desire to find anything, no expectation of finding anything, no movement of the mind, no motivation; one is just simply breathing, sitting silently, doing nothing. In that very moment one becomes aware for the first time of one's own existence, because the whole energy starts turning in; there is no way to go out. When there is a search, energy is moving out; all seeking is extroversion. The moment you think of searching for something you have moved away from yourself ­ the desire has come in and the goal is there far away and you are no more herenow. When all desire disappears, where can you go? Where can the energy go? Then the energy leaks no more: you contain your energy and with no effort it is contained. You become a reservoir, and suddenly the very pulsation of energy, the turning-in of the whole flood of your consciousness, makes you aware of something which has always been there but of which you were not aware because you were keeping your back towards it. God is our withinness. Jesus says, "God is within you..." It will be even better to say, "God is our withinness." To say "God is within you" again keeps a little distance between you and God; then you are the container and God is the content... still a subtle difference, a little distinction, a separation. I say "God is your withinness," not something within you but your very within. God is your inside, hence it cannot be searched for. That is the meaning of your name and that has to become your work on your being. Great joy arises when one has nothing to seek, when one is utterly contented as one is. Something immensely beautiful explodes... as if a lotus blooms within and life becomes all fragrance.

----­ ******** ----­ Anand means bliss, rahimo means compassion ­ a blissful compassion. Bliss is spontaneously compassionate. Suffering is never compassionate. The man who suffers is always angry with life. The man who suffers would like everybody to suffer. He has a grudge against life. He cannot feel compassion. Usually people think just the reverse: they think that if a man has suffered he will feel compassion for others' suffering. That is not so. The man who has suffered becomes hard, insensitive; he cannot feel compassion. That you can see everywhere in a country like India: people have lived in poverty so long, they have suffered so much that they have become oblivious of poverty. A beggar may be dying on the road ­ nobody feels anything for the beggar. If suffering made people compassionate then India would be the most compassionate country. It is not? Suffering has made people hard, suffering has dulled their sensitivity, suffering has made them thick. Just to protect themselves they had to become hard: they have grown a hard crust around their hearts. If they continuously feel for everybody who is suffering it will be impossible to live. Suffering is all over the place. They have invented beautiful theories to protect themselves: if somebody is suffering he is suffering because of his past karma. It has nothing to do with the person who is suffering but it gives a good explanation to the person who wants to avoid compassion. This theory is just a protection, otherwise you will have to be compassionate; and if you are not compassionate you will feel guilty and that will be heavy on you. People have lived in poverty, starvation, suffering, for so long that others have to invent theories to console themselves, to defend themselves. They have to create an armor, a psychological armor. My own observation is that only bliss makes a person compassionate. If he has known joy he will feel compassion for those who are in suffering. If he has not known any joy he accepts suffering as life. Why should he feel compassion7 There is no reason. He has suffered, everybody suffers ­ life is suffering ­ and because he has not tasted anything contrary to it he cannot feel it. The East has talked about religion for so long but has no compassion. The West is not so religious, not at all, but more compassion is arising, and the reason is: the West has tasted something of the joys of life. They are not much, they are only on the circumference, but still some pleasure on the circumference has been tasted. Suddenly, when a person comes from the West to the East and sees poverty and starvation, he feels aghast; it is inconceivable to him. He cannot believe his eyes ­ how people are tolerating this and why nobody is doing anything to change it. This is only because on the circumference the West has attained a little affluence, a little better standard of life. When one comes to know the innermost joy, when one knows something of God, something of love, something of meditation ­ when one has flown high or has tasted something of the deepest in one's consciousness ­ then a great compassion arises. One would like to share all that one has; one would like to pour one's whole being. One would like the whole existence to become enlightened. One would like everybody to dance and sing and celebrate. But that happens only when you have come to know something. So I make bliss a prerequisite of being compassionate. I don't teach compassion to people. I teach bliss. Compassion comes of its own accord. Many people come to me and they ask why I am

teaching you to meditate and dance and sing when people are in suffering. I should teach people to serve, to be compassionate, to do something. But I know that is not the right way. Unless they have tasted something of joy they will never feel compassionate. And if they are convinced logically, rationally, to feel compassion, their compassion will be a kind of obligation to the people and they will feel very egoistic about it. They will go on an ego trip, and when you are on an ego trip it is not compassion ­ it is destruction. So I don't teach compassion at all, I don't talk about compassion at all, but I teach bliss, and compassion comes as a shadow. And when compassion comes as a shadow it has a beauty. Then you don't oblige anybody; you don't become a great public servant. Then you are not on an ego trip for humanity's salvation. Then all that is nonsense. You simply do whatsoever you can do because you enjoy doing it, because it is your sheer joy that wants to be shared; it has nothing to do with the other. You don't want even a thankyou from the other; you don't wait for him to feel grateful to you. And when you can be loving and compassionate without obliging the other, then compassion is really beautiful ­ a benediction to you and to others too. ----­ ******** ----­ Deva means divine, kavido means poet ­ a divine poet. The moment doubt dies poetry is born. Doubt creates philosophy ­ trust creates poetry. And poetry is my message. Philosophy has to be discarded. It is all rubbish: it only burdens the head. It does not give wings to the heart, and to know reality and to live reality wings are needed. One has to be capable of flying against the whole gravitation of the earth; that's what poetry is. Poetry means something upon which gravitation does not work. Poetry means something miraculous. Poetry means something which should not happen in reality but still happens ­ the unbelievable. Poetry is not the logical approach towards reality. And you have suffered from logic enough. It is time to get rid of that old disease. Enough is enough. It has wounded you enough, and the time has come to be healed and to be whole again. By "poetry" I don't mean literal poetry, because to me if someone lives lovingly his whole life becomes poetry. Whatsoever he does is poetry; he cannot do otherwise. If he sits silently there is poetry in his silence. If he moves into the garden, walks into the garden, poetry is walking into the garden, among the trees. If he talks, he talks poetry; if he listens, he hears poetry. Poetry is a totally different orientation from logic, just the opposite of the rational mind: it is the intuitive mind, the feminine in you. The logical mind moves step by step to a conclusion. It is very cautious, very careful; hence its achievement is always trivial. It cannot take quantum leaps; it moves very gradually. It crawls, creeps; its attainment is not much. It is so cautious that it remains confined to the world of security. It never risks ­ and life is risking. And the more you risk, the more you live, the more alive you are; the less you risk, the less alive you are. And a person who never risks has not lived at all or has lived in vain. Sannyas is a risk. Now, this moment, you are on a threshold, entering into something about which you cannot be sure ­ what is it? There is no way to be sure of it before you have tasted it. This is the meaning of risk: going into something unknown.... Leaving that which is known for that which is unknown. This takes courage too, this takes daring, because the known feels comfortable,

convenient; one is efficient with it. In the unknown one will be an amateur, unskillful, can become the laughing stock, can commit many errors, may look ridiculous. This is all implied in the word "risking." But only through risk is poetry born. Poetry is the flower of risk. It blooms only through risk. Risk means sacrificing the past for something unknown, for which no guarantee can be given. I cannot give you any guarantee, I cannot promise you anything. All that I can say is this: that all that you have known up to now will be taken away, all that you have been up to now will be destroyed, that I am going to be a fire to you, but only out of that fire... the purity. You thought ­ I was watching ­ you were thinking many doubts, naturally, and it is always good to go through those doubts, because when you have gone through them again and again and it is the same vicious circle and it takes you nowhere, then the intelligent person, seeing that it is just the same circle he is moving in, jumps out. That is the definition of intelligence. To see the vicious circle of one's life is intelligence. The unintelligent goes on and on, year in, year out, life in, life out, in the same vicious circle, thinking, waiting, as if something is going to happen, and he goes on moving in the same rut. He is just like a broken gramophone record. Intelligence consists in seeing the point that one has lived this way, one has worked this way, one has listened to one's mind, one has followed one's mind. Where has one arrived? What has happened...? Seeing it, like lightning ­ that nothing has happened, that one has given enough chances to this mind ­ now try the opposite, now try the unknown. Sannyas means this intelligence: giving a chance to the unknown, giving a chance to a path that you have never followed. All that is old will drop, all that you have gathered will be taken away and all that you have been will go into flames. Then only for the first time will you see what your original face is... who you really are.... But there is no hurry because you have enough time. There is no hurry, so go slowly.... My feeling is the slower you go, the better. ----­ ******** ----­ [A sannyasin who is leaving says that the longer she stayed here the less she missed her children.] That's very good ­ nothing wrong in it. One feels guilty about these things because our expectations are such that we think that we will miss very much and when we don't it feels as if we are not loving or something. That is not the point. If you live in the present ­ and that's my whole approach here ­ you will not miss anything. The present is so overwhelming that you will not miss the past, you will not think about children or family or home or the future or anything; the present is so overwhelming and so enchanting. It has nothing to do with your love. People miss because their present is empty, so they fill it with something: they think about the children, about the mother, about the father, about the husband and about the wife and a thousand and one things, and they create a great turmoil in themselves. That has nothing to do with love. It is just that because they are feeling so empty they would like to stuff themselves with something or other.

This happens to many people here: once they start getting in tune with me and with things here, they stop missing. And that's a good sign. That doesn't show that you don't love. In fact... Life is so strange ­ it has its own strange mathematics. If you are thinking too much of your children here, then when you go back home suddenly you will be surprised that there is nothing much. If you have not been missing here and you go back home and you have learned how to be in the present, you will find so much in your children that you have never found before, because again you will be there in the present. Back home with the children you will love them. If you had been fantasizing about them then your love energy would have been exploited by the fantasy. When you go back home nothing is left. Fantasy is one of the greatest problems to be solved. When people live in fantasy they stop living in reality, because you have only so much energy. When you stop living in fantasy you start living in reality, because now you have so much energy left for reality. Psychologists come across this phenomenon again and again: if a person has been in a romantic love affair and has been prevented by the society ­ by the parents, by the culture, and there have been a thousand and one hindrances to getting to the woman and he has been fantasizing and fantasizing, because so many barriers had to be crossed and it was almost impossible ­ and then he makes it, then he finds it very frustrating; the woman is not worth it. He lived in such fantasies, he created such a fantastic image of the Woman, now the real woman looks very pale, ordinary, nothing. And this is how millions of marriages fail, because the society creates fantasy. It keeps boys and girls separate; it helps to create fantasy. For thousands of years it has been keeping man and woman separate. It gives great scope for the imagination to play, and when they meet, the reality is not satisfying; it can't be. They have already lived in their fantasies ­ they are spent; now the reality looks very ordinary, mundane. If no fantasy is allowed ­ women and men live together, nobody is hindering them, they are allowed all kinds of meetings possible and there is no need to fantasize, because when you can attain the real, why should you fantasize? ­ then love brings greater fulfillment, not frustration. Frustration is always proportionate to the fantasy; the higher the fantasy, the deeper the frustration. Now, here you were living in a totally different reality ­ oblivious of the past and the children and everything. Don't feel guilty that you have not missed them; it is good. So when you go back home you will find them; you will really find them and they will find you. And you will not be angry at them. If you have missed them here you will be angry. When you go back home and you see that these are the people who didn't allow you to be totally here, a deep anger will be there. This is how things should be: when you are here enjoy this moment, enjoy me, these people, this situation. When you are back home, enjoy your children, your home, that moment, that situation. Back home, don't miss me ­ that's all! When you are here don't miss your children. That's how it has to be learned... and don't feel guilty if you don't miss me! ----­ ******** ----­ [A sannyasin says she wants to live in the commune here, but is concerned about her fourteen-yearold daughter who is not interested in sannyas, and is staying with her grandparents. Osho checks her energy.]

Leave her there... leave her there, unless she wants to come. Never force. Simply be loving to her and don't try to persuade her. Every possibility is that she will come with you but it will depend on your not forcing. The new generation is very much of a different quality. It can follow love but it cannot be forced, --and that's good! A new kind of humanity is being I born: it is not obedient, and it is a good phenomenon. It is through obedience that the whole of humanity has suffered in the past. It is through obedience that I people have followed stupid politicians, stupid priests, superstitions. It is because of obedience that intelligence has not grown. Now this is for the first time in human history that children are no more obedient; they think on their own. This is a good sign. It hurts the parents because sometimes they would like the children to be with them; and the parents may be right too. For example, now you would like the child to come with you because you know that here she will be growing more, but that is your will and your wish. Unless she feels, it has not to be imposed. So just be loving ­ let her feel that you have become more loving than you have ever been. That will be the only proof for her that something has happened to you. Let her see the change ­ and children are very perceptive: old people are not so perceptive. Children are clean and their minds are mirror-like; they see immediately. And the change is happening! Just allow her to feel it. Be loving and be totally freedom-giving. Simply say that you are going, but don't persuade her, don't say that she has to come; tell her that whatsoever she decides is good. Don't cry, because that is a subtle way of manipulation. Don't make her feel guilty; those are all strategies and are not good. If you want to cry, cry alone, but not before her. That is your problem: that has nothing to do with her. Don't make her feel guilty; otherwise out of guilt she may start thinking, "Okay, so I will come with you," but then she will never come. Even if she comes that coming will not be of any use. Simply be loving, give her total freedom. Let her feel what has happened to you through sannyas, what has happened to you through falling in love with me, and if that brings her that is good. If that doesn't bring her then leave her there; sooner or later she will come. And the second thing: just because of her don't force yourself to live there, because then again you will make her feel guilty: "It is because of you that I wanted to go and live there in the new commune and I have not gone. I have sacrificed for you." And it always happens: whenever parents sacrifice, they take great revenge. They can never forgive the children because they have sacrificed. They would like the children also to pay them back, and the children are not going to. They will be living in a totally different world; they have different values. Your values are not going to be her values. The gap has really happened, but it can be bridged, and remember the gap can be bridged only from the parents' side. It cannot be bridged from the children's side because they are immature. What do they know of life and love? By the time they know they will no more be children. It is the parents' responsibility to be so loving, so freedom-giving, that the children slowly slowly start feeling that it is not a question of obedience, that it is just feeling something from the heart to the heart.

Don't force yourself to be there just for this reason. And everything will settle... everything settles. No need to be worried ­ come to the new commune. ----­ ******** ----­ [A sannyasin, arriving, says that his girlfriend, who is not a sannyasin, was upset when he came here.] She will come ­ nothing to worry about. Just go on writing to her. If she loves, she will come. This happens to couples; if one is a sannyasin then the other becomes jealous and great fight starts. She must be thinking that I have possessed you and now she is left behind. She does not know me, that's all. Otherwise, if you come to me I make you more loving; you will become a better lover and have a deeper love. She would have entered into a deeper relationship with you if she had dared to come. But people are afraid. People are almost totally paranoid. About small things and for no reasons at all they are afraid: their love may be disturbed, who knows what will happen there? People don't trust themselves, don't trust their love either, hence all these fears arise. Just write to her, "Come. More love will be possible here!" There is no end to growing in love. And love is such a great art. Nobody is born with it ­ one has to discover it. And it is an inexhaustible treasure: the more you discover, the more you are capable of discovering more. ----­ ******** ----­ Anand pujari. It means bliss and worship ­ a blissful worshipper. Worship should not be formal. If it is formal it is utterly useless. And that's what it has become in the world: the "Sunday religion" ­ just a formality ­ or a prayer in the night before one goes to bed... just a repetition with no heart within it, a routine, a habit. It has to be done because one has been taught and brought up to do it. Worship should be blissful, not formal. One has to wait for those moments when one is feeling really blissful, then dance in worship, pray in worship, have a dialogue with God. But those moments will be unpredictable ­ you cannot do it exactly every Sunday. You cannot do it by a timetable; you cannot do it by fixed schedule. Bliss comes like a breeze: when it comes it comes... and whenever you feel blissful, that is the moment to be prayerful. People do just the opposite: when they are in deep suffering, pain, they pray. And when you are in suffering you cannot pray. Your prayer cannot go very deep because your prayer is just a need. When you are in pain, in suffering, in misery, you are asking God to do something for you. You are asking him to serve you ­ that's what your prayer is ­ and that is not the right attitude. We should not demand. We should offer ourselves, but offering is possible only when you are blissful. So never pray when you are in pain and suffering; that is not the right moment. But pray when you are happy, joyous. Then you will find that God is so close by. Then there is no demand because then you don't need anything ­ you are just in a thankful mood. Prayer should be just gratitude. That is the meaning of your name. Make it the meaning of your life too!

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