An Unaddressed Gratefulness – Osho

Is blissfulness an expression of gratitude towards existence?

It is just the reverse. Blissfulness is not an expression of gratitude; on the contrary, gratitude is an expression of blissfulness. First comes the experience of bliss. First you attain to the state of consciousness where ecstasy is natural, where your potential blossoms to its ultimate expression. A great dance arises in you, a tremendous peace and a deep silence – but it is not the silence of the graveyard, it is a silence fully alive, throbbing with a heartbeat. This whole experience is bliss. And because of this bliss that existence makes available to you, a feeling of gratitude, a thankfulness arises.

To me, this is the only authentic prayer. Not the prayers that are being done in the churches, in the synagogues, in the temples, before stone statues of God – those prayers are full of greed. They are asking for something; in other words they are complaining about something. Something is wrong in life and God should put it right. There is no gratitude in those prayers; on the contrary, they are absolute indicators of ungratefulness.

The moment you ask for something, you are saying that what you deserve has not been given to you, that what is your birthright has not been fulfilled. You are throwing the responsibility upon existence. Rather than being grateful for what has been given to you, you are showing ungratefulness out of what your greed demands, your ambition demands, out of what your desires are manipulating you towards. The prayers in the so-called temples of God are not true prayers. They are full of your greed, desire, lust.

The authentic prayer arises only to the meditator. It is not addressed towards a god – which is only a hypothesis; there is no proof for any God. Yes, there is absolute proof for godliness: a quality of divineness in the sun rising in the morning, in the starry night, in the beautiful flight of a bird on the wing, in the flowers, in the trees, in the oceans.

All this vast universe is enough unto itself. It needs no God – God is only a consolation for the ignorant. The meditator encounters existence itself. His own being becomes the experience of godliness. He knows that in his own inner being he is part of eternal life. There is no death, there has never been any death. Experiencing this, there arises a dance so subtle . . . there arises a deep gratitude, not addressed to anybody in particular but simply addressed to the whole cosmos. To the stars, to the trees, to the earth, to the moon, to the animals, to people . . . it is an unaddressed gratefulness.

And unless you experience an unaddressed gratefulness, you don’t know exactly the meaning of prayer. The word prayer gives a wrong connotation; it should be changed into prayerfulness, just as I am changing God into godliness. […]

-Osho

From Om Mani Padme Hum: The Sound of Silence, the Diamond in the Lotus, Discourse #2, Q1

Copyright© OSHO International Foundation

An MP3 audio file of this discourse can be downloaded from Osho.com, or you can read the entire book online at the Osho Library.

Many of Osho’s books are available in the U.S. online from Amazon.com and Viha Osho Book Distributors. In India they are available from Amazon.in and Oshoworld.com.

One thought on “An Unaddressed Gratefulness – Osho”

  1. basilique notre-dame de fourviére

    “All rivers move at once.”
    -Rumi

    whose brutal hands are these upon the bow
    whose gaunt eye sees what mortal eyes cannot
    whose cruel lips betray love with a kiss

    seals the four feathers to the arrow shaft
    i the puissant sword in its sheath of stone

    carving the radiant hart of darkness
    sublime laughter painting sweet rivers green
    fiercer sorrow staining salty seas blue

    whose womb the cell within which all stars scream
    whose lyon thirst first broke the dark crystal
    whose finger on the diapason key

    shatters bliss with agonizing music
    your arms towers in which mystery dreams

    a shabby fortress for cupidity
    the cathedral merely a chrysalis
    emergent lust wanting integrity

    whose inordinate flame chars our fickle harts
    whose enigma makes all things convergent
    whose love is yet more than its mortal parts

    these invisible hands tune those hart strings
    threading nooses dangling from hanging trees

    love not lacking reconciliation
    a pyramid not yet but still complete
    a rose favoring discrimination

    whose compassion forges the golden path
    whose thorny vine climbs the hidden mountain
    whose mortal love kindles endless desire

    conceals wonder in ecstatic silence
    love compounds lust into transgressive love

    when you ask what such love can or cannot know
    nightingales descending grace larks ascending
    here is no place where sham’s sweet tears do not flow

    mark emmanuel christopher valentine
    (© 18 september 2012 dafreewhitewolfe.wordpress.com)

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