Oneness is the Experience of Silence – Osho

To be open and to be witnessing are two different things. Is it so, or is this a duality created by my mind?

Mind always creates duality; otherwise, to be open or to be witnessing are not two things.

If you are open, you will be witnessing.

Without being a witness, you cannot be open; or if you are a witness, you will be open — because being a witness and yet remaining closed is impossible. So those are only two words.

You can either start with witnessing — then opening will come on its own accord; or you can start by opening your heart, all windows, all doors — then witnessing will be found, coming on its own. But if you are simply thinking, without doing anything, then they look separate.

Mind cannot think without duality. Duality is the way of thinking.

In silence, all dualities disappear.

Oneness is the experience of silence.

For example, day and night are very clear dualities, but they are not two. There are animals who see in the night. Their eyes are more sensitive, capable of seeing in darkness. For them, there is no darkness. Those animals cannot open their eyes in the day, because their eyes are so delicate that the sun hurts. So while it is day for you, for those animals it is night; the eyes are closed, all is darkness. When it is night for you, it is day for them. The whole day they sleep, the whole night they are awake.

And if you ask a scientist and a logician, you will see the difference. If you ask the logician, “What is day?” he will say, “That which is not night.” And what is not night? It is a circular game. If you ask, “What is night?” the logician is going to say, “What is not day.”

You need day to define night; you need night to define day. Strange duality, strange Opposition . . . If there is no day, can you think of night? If there is no night, can you think of day? It is impossible.

Ask the scientist, who is closer to reality than the logician. For the scientist darkness is less light, light is less darkness. Now it is one phenomenon, just like a thermometer. Somebody has a temperature of 110 degrees, just ready to move out of the house. Somebody has a temperature of 98 degrees, the normal temperature for human beings, but somebody falls below 96 degrees, again ready for a move.

Your existence is not very big, just between 96 and 110 degrees. Sixteen degrees . . . below is death, above is death; just a small slit in between, a small window of life. If we could have a thermometer for light and darkness, the situation would be the same, just as it is between heat and cold — the same thermometer will do for both. The cold is less hot and the hot is less cold, but it is one phenomenon; there is no duality. It is the same with darkness and light.

And the same is true about all oppositions that mind creates. Openness, witnessing . . . if you think intellectually, they look very different. They seem to be unrelated; how can they be one? But in experience they are one.

-Osho

From Beyond Enlightenment, Discourse #3, Q3

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The Dancer is the Witness – Osho

Can one be absorbed in doing something – for instance dynamic meditation techniques – with absolute total intensity, and at the same time remain a witness who is separate, apart?

The same is the problem in many forms. You think that a witness is something apart, separate. It is not. Your intensity, your wholeness, is your witness. So when you are witnessing and doing something you are not two – the doer is the witness.

For example, you are dancing here in kirtan. You are dancing: the dancer and the witness are not two, there is no separation. The separation is only in language. The dancer is the witness. And if the dancer is not the witness, then you cannot be total in the dance, because the witness will need some energy and you will have to divide yourself. A part will remain a witness and the remaining will move in the dance. It cannot be total, it will be divided. And this is not what is meant, because really this is the state of a schizophrenic patient – divided, split. It is pathological. If you become two you are ill. You must remain one. You must move totally into the dance, and your totality will become the witness. It is not going to be something set apart, your wholeness is aware. This happens.

So don’t try to divide yourself. While dancing become the dance. Just remain alert; don’t fall asleep, don’t be unconscious. You are not under a drug, you are alert, fully alert. But this alertness is not a part standing aloof; it is your totality; it is your whole being.

But this is again the same thing as whether two lovers are two or one. Only on the surface are they two, deep inside they are one. Only in language will you appear two, the dancer and the witness, but deep down you are the one. The whole dancer is alert. Then only peace, equilibrium, silence, will happen to you. If you are divided there will be tension, and that tension will not allow you to be totally here and now, to merge into existence.

So remember that, don’t try to divide. Become the dancer and still be aware. This happens. This I am saying through my experience. This I am saying through many others’ experiences who have been working with me. This will happen to you also. This may have happened to many already. But remember this: don’t get split. Remain one and yet aware.

-Osho

From Vedanta: Seven Steps to Samadhi, Discourse #11

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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.

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Meditation is a Bridge – Osho

Whoever clings to mind sees not the truth of what’s beyond the mind.

If you cling to the mind, thoughts, emotions, then you will not be able to see that which is beyond the mind – the great Mind – because if you cling, how can you see it? If you cling, your eyes are closed by your clinging. And if you cling to the object, how can you see the subject? This “clinging-ness” has to be dropped.

Whoever clings to mind is identified, and sees not the truth of what’s beyond the mind. Whoever strives to practice dharma finds not the truth of beyond practice.

All practice is of the mind. Whatsoever you do is of the mind. Only witnessing is not of the mind, remember this.

So, even while you are doing meditation, remain a witness, continuously see what is happening. You are whirling in a dervish meditation? – whirl, whirl as fast as you can, but remain a witness inside and go on seeing that the body is whirling. The body goes on, faster and faster and faster, and the faster the body goes, the deeper you feel that your center is not moving. You are standing still, the body moves like a wheel, you stand still just in the middle of it. The faster the body goes, the deeper you realize the fact that you are not moving, and the distance is created.

Whatsoever you are doing, even meditation – I make no exception – don’t cling to meditation either, because a day has to come when even that clinging has to be dropped. Meditation becomes perfect when it too is dropped. When there is perfect meditation, you need not meditate.

So keep it constantly in your awareness that meditation is just a bridge; it has to be passed over. A bridge is not a place to make your house. You have to pass it and go beyond it. Meditation is a bridge; you have to be watchful about it also, otherwise you may stop being identified with anger, greed, and you may start being identified with meditation, compassion. Then you are in the same trap again; through another door you have entered the same house.

It happened once: Mulla Nasruddin came to the town bar and he was already too drunk, so the barkeeper told him, “You go away! You are already drunk and I cannot give you any more. You just go back to your house.” But he was insisting, so the barkeeper had to throw him out.

He walked a long distance in search of another bar. Then he came to the same bar from another door, entered, looked at the man with a little suspicion because he looked familiar. The barman said, “I have told you once and forever that tonight I am not going to give you anything. You get away from here!” Mulla was insisting again, he was thrown out again.

He walked a long distance in search of another bar, but in that town there was only one bar. Again, from the third door, he entered, looked at the man, who looked so familiar. Mulla said, “What is the matter? Do you own all the bars in the town?”

This happens. You are thrown out from one door; you enter from another door. You were identified with your anger, your lust; now you become identified with your meditation. You were identified with your sexual pleasure; now you become identified with the ecstasy that meditation gives. Nothing is different – the town has only one bar. Don’t try to enter the same bar again and again. And from wherever you enter you will find the same owner – that is the witness. Be mindful of it, otherwise much energy is unnecessarily wasted. Long distances you travel to enter into the same thing again.

Whoever clings to mind sees not the truth of what’s beyond the mind.

What is beyond the mind? You. What is beyond the mind? Consciousness. What is beyond the mind? Sat-chit-anand – truth, consciousness, bliss.

Whoever stives to practice the dharma finds not the truth of beyond practice.

And whatsoever you practice, remember, practice cannot lead you to the natural, the loose and the natural, because practice means practicing something which is not there. Practicing means always practicing something artificial. Nature has not to be practiced; there is no need, it is already there. You learn something which is not there. How can you learn something which is already there? How can you learn nature, tao? It is already there! You are born in it. There is no need to find any teacher so that you can be taught – and that is the difference between a teacher and a master.

A teacher is one who teaches you something, a master is one who helps you to unlearn all that you have already learned. A master is to help you unlearn. A master is to give you the taste of the non-practiced. It is already there; through your learning you have lost it. Through your unlearning you will regain it.

Truth is not a discovery, it is a rediscovery. It was already there in the first place. When you came into this world it was with you, when you were born into this life it was with you, because you are it. It cannot be otherwise. It is not something external, it is intrinsic in you, it is your very being. So if you practice, says Tilopa, you will not know that which is beyond practice.

Remind yourself again and again, that whatsoever you practice will be a part of the mind, the small mind, the outer periphery, and you have to go beyond it. How to go beyond it? Practice, nothing is wrong in it, but be alert; meditate, but be alert – because in the final meaning of the term, meditation is witnessing.

All techniques can be helpful but they are not exactly meditation, they are just a groping in the dark. Suddenly one day, doing something, you will become a witness. Doing a meditation like the dynamic, or kundalini or whirling, suddenly one day the meditation will go on but you will not be identified. You will sit silently behind; you will watch it – that day meditation has happened; that day technique is no more a hindrance, no more a help. You can enjoy it if you like, like an exercise, it gives a certain vitality, but there is no need now – the real meditation has happened.

Meditation is witnessing. To meditate means to become a witness. Meditation is not a technique at all. This will be very confusing to you because I go on giving you techniques. In the ultimate sense meditation is not a technique; meditation is an understanding, awareness. But you need techniques because that final understanding is very far away from you; deep hidden in you, but still very far away from you. Right this moment you can attain it, but you will not attain it, because your moment goes on, your mind goes on. This very moment it is possible and yet impossible. Techniques will bridge the gap, they are just to bridge the gap.

So in the beginning techniques are meditations; in the end you will laugh, techniques are not meditation. Meditation is a totally different quality of being, it has nothing to do with anything. But it will happen only in the end; don’t think it has happened in the beginning, otherwise the gap will not be bridged.

This is the problem with Krishnamurti, and this is the problem with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi – they are the two opposite poles. Mahesh Yogi thinks that technique is meditation, so once you are attuned to a technique – Transcendental Meditation or any other – the meditation has happened. This is right and wrong. Right, because in the beginning a beginner has to attune himself to some technique, because his understanding is not ripe enough to understand the ultimate. So approximately . . . a technique is approximately a meditation.

It is just like a small child learning the alphabet – so we tell the child that “m” is the same letter as when you use “monkey,” the monkey represents “m.” With the “m” the monkey is there, the child starts learning. There is no relationship between monkey and “m.” “M” can be represented by millions of things, and still it is different from everything. But a child has to be shown something. Monkey is nearer the child; he can understand the monkey, not “m.” Through the monkey he will be able to understand “m” – but this is just a beginning, not the end.

Mahesh Yogi is right in the beginning, to push you on the path, but if you are stuck with him you are lost. He has to be left, he is a primary school; good as far as it goes, but one need not always remain in the primary school. The primary school is not the university, and the primary school is not the universe; one has to pass from there. It is a primary understanding that meditation is a technique.

Then there is Krishnamurti at the other pole. He says there are no techniques, no meditations, but choiceless awareness. Perfectly right! – but he is trying to help you enter into the university without the primary school. He can be dangerous because he is talking about the ultimate. You cannot understand it; right now, in your understanding it is not possible – you will go mad. Once you listen to Krishnamurti you will be lost, because you will always intellectually understand he is right, and in your being you will know that nothing is happening.

Many Krishnamurti followers have come to me. They say intellectually they understand: “Of course it is right, there is no technique and meditation is awareness – but what to do?” And I tell them, “The moment you ask what to do, it means you need a technique. ’What to do?’ You ask how to do it, you are asking for a technique. Krishnamurti will not help you. Rather, go to Maharishi Mahesh Yogi – that will be better.” But people are stuck with Krishnamurti and there are people who are stuck with Mahesh Yogi.

I am neither – or I am both; and then I am very confusing. They are both clear, their standpoints are simple; there is no complexity in understanding Mahesh Yogi or Krishnamurti. If you understand language, you can understand them, there is no problem. The problem will arise with me because I will always talk about the beginning and will never allow you to forget the end. I will always talk about the end and always help you to start from the beginning. You will be confused because you will say, “What do you mean? If meditation is simply awareness, then why go through so many exercises?”

You have to go through them; only then will that meditation help you . . . that will happen to you which is simple understanding.

Or you say, “If techniques are all, then why do you go on saying again and again that techniques have to be left, dropped?” . . . Because then you feel: “Something learned so deeply, with so much effort and arduous labor has to be left again?” You would like to cling to the beginning. I will not allow you. Once you are on the path, I will go on pushing you to the very end.

This is a problem; with me this problem has to be faced, encountered and understood. I will look contradictory. I am; I am a paradox – because I am trying to give you both the beginning and the end, the first step and the last. Tilopa is talking of the ultimate. He is saying:

Whoever strives to practice dharma finds not the truth of beyond practice. To know what is beyond both mind and practice, one should not cling, one should cut cleanly through the root of the mind and stare naked.

That’s what I am calling witnessing: stare naked. Just staring naked will do, the root is cut. This staring naked becomes like a sharp sword.

-Osho

From Tantra: The Supreme Understanding, Discourse #8

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.

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Aham Brahmasmi – Osho

The most fundamental upanishidic statement is aham brahmasmi. Is it connected in any way to satchidanand?

Anando, the statement in the Upanishads, aham brahmasmi, is perhaps the most fundamental and the most essential experience of all the mystics of the world. The Upanishads are the only books which are considered not to belong to any religion, yet they are the very essence of religiousness.

This statement, aham brahmasmi, is a declaration of enlightenment – literally it means, “I am the divine, I am the ultimate, I am the absolute.” It is a declaration that, “There is no other God than my own inner being.” This does not mean that it is a declaration of a single individual about himself. It is a declaration, of course, by one individual, but it declares the potential of every individual.

It denies God as a separate entity. It denies God as a creator. It denies God as a ruler. It simply denies the existence of God, other than in our own existence. It is the whole search of the Eastern genius. In thousands of years, they have discovered only one thing: don’t look for God outside your own being. If you can find him you can find him only in one place and that is in you – other than you all the temples and all the mosques and all the synagogues and all the churches are inventions of the priests to exploit you. They are not in the service of God; on the contrary they are exploiting all the potential gods.

Aham brahmasmi is perhaps the boldest statement ever made by any human being in any age in any part of the world, and I don’t think it can be improved upon in the future, ever. Its courage is so absolute and perfect that you cannot refine it, you cannot polish it. It is so fundamental that you cannot go deeper than this, neither can you go higher than this.

This simple statement aham brahmasmi, – in Sanskrit, is only three words. In English also it can be translated in these few words: “I am the Ultimate.” Beyond me there is nothing; there is no height that is not within me and there is no depth which is not within me. If I can explore myself I have explored the whole mystery of existence.

But, unfortunately, even the people of this country – where this statement was made some five thousand years ago – have forgotten all about the dignity of human beings. This statement is nothing but the ultimate manifesto of man and his dignity. Even in this country, where such individuals existed who reached the ultimate awakening and illumination, there are people who are worshipping stones. There are people who are enslaved by ignorant priests. There are people who are living in the bondage of a certain religion, creed or cult. They have forgotten the golden age of the Upanishads.

Perhaps that was the most innocent time that happened in the history of man. At that time the West was almost barbarous, and that barbarousness somehow has remained as an undercurrent in the western consciousness. Otherwise, it cannot be just coincidental that the two great world wars have happened in the West. And preparation for the third is also happening in the West – just within a small span of half a century.

The days of the Upanishads in this land were the most glorious. The only search, the only seeking, the only longing, was to know oneself – no other ambition ruled mankind. Riches, success, power, everything was absolutely mundane.

Those who were ambitious, those who were running after riches, those who wanted to be powerful were considered to be psychologically sick. And those who were really healthy psychologically, spiritually healthy, their only search was to know oneself and to be oneself and to declare to the whole universe the innermost secret. That secret is contained in this statement, “Aham brahmasmi.” The people who followed the days of the Upanishads in a way have fallen into a dark age.

You will be surprised to know that the idea of involution has not appeared at all in the Western mind, only the idea of evolution, only the idea of progress. But the mystics of the Upanishads have a more perfect and more comprehensive approach. Nothing can go on evolving forever. Evolution has been conceived by the Upanishads as a circle and, in fact, in existence everything moves in a circle. Stars move in circles, the sun moves in a circle, the earth moves in a circle, the moon moves in a circle, climates move in a circle, life moves in a circle.

The whole existence knows only one way of movement and that is circular. So that which seems to be going up one day will soon be going down. Again, it will come up – it is just like a wheel and the spokes of the wheel. The same spoke will come up, will go down, will come up, will go down.

Evolution is incomplete if there is not any complementary idea of involution. Materially man has evolved. Certainly, there were no railway trains and there were no atomic weapons and there was no nuclear war material, there was no electricity, there was nothing of the technology that we have become accustomed to living with. Materially, man has certainly evolved, but spiritually, the situation is totally different.

Spiritually, man has not evolved. According to the Upanishads, man has gone deeper into darkness. He has lost his innocence and he has lost his blissfulness and he has lost his simple experience of: “I am the mysterious, I am the miraculous; I am the whole cosmos in a miniature form, just as a dewdrop is the whole ocean in a miniature form.” The dewdrop can declare, “I am the ocean,” and there will not be anything wrong in it. Certainly, a particular individual is only a dewdrop, but he can declare, “Aham brahmasmi,” and there is nothing wrong in it. He is simply saying the truth.

The Upanishads talk about four stages of man’s fall, not of evolution. The first stage, when the Upanishads came into being, is called the “Age of Truth.” People were simply truthful, just as small children are simply truthful.

To lie, one needs some experience. Lying is a complicated phenomenon, truth is not. To lie you need a developed memory, you have to remember what kind of thing you have said to one person and what kind of thing you have said to another person. A lying person needs a good memory. A man of truth needs no memory because he is simply saying that which is the case.

The child has no experience other than the truth, other than what he experiences. He cannot lie. The days of the Upanishads are the days of man’s childhood, of purity and innocence, of deep love and trust. The first age the Upanishads call Satyuga, the Age of Truth. Truth was not a long journey. You were not to go anywhere to find it. You were living in it.

The situation was exactly expressed by Kabir in a symbolic parable: A fish in the ocean, who must have had a philosophic bent, started inquiring of other fish, “I have heard so much about the ocean, but I want to know where it is.”

The poor fish that she questioned had also heard about the ocean but they were not so curious, so they never bothered about where it was. They said, “We have also heard about the ocean, but where it is we have never bothered to ask, and we don’t know the answer.”

And the young philosopher fish went on asking everybody, “Where is the ocean?” And they were all stunned. They had heard about it from their forefathers – it had always been known – but as far as an exact description or experience was concerned, nobody was able to explain it to the young fish.

Finally, the young fish declared, “You are all stupid. There is no ocean at all.” Nobody could answer the fish.

Kabir says the same is the situation of man. Man goes on asking, “Have you seen God? Have you seen the mysterious, the miraculous?” And all he can hear is, “We have heard about it, we have read about it . . .” But there was a day when people were so innocent, childlike, that they knew it – that they are surrounded by the ocean, that the ocean is not to be searched for, it is within and without. They are part of it, they are born in it, they live in it, they breathe in it, and they will one day disappear into it. They are part and parcel of the ocean.

But every child has to grow. And just as every child has to grow, Satyuga, the Age of Truth, could not remain forever. It produced the great scriptures called the Upanishads – the word is so beautiful: it simply means ‘sitting by the side of the master’ – those are recordings from the notes of disciples who were sitting in silence by the side of the master. Once in a while, out of his meditation, he would say something; out of his heart something would be transferred to the disciple, and the disciple would take a note. Those notes are the Upanishads.

Satyuga, the Age of Truth, disappeared – the child grew. The second stage is called Treta – it is compared to a table. The first, Satyuga, the Age of Truth, was almost like a table with four legs, absolutely balanced. Treta means three. One leg of the table has disappeared. Now it is no more a table with four legs, with that certainty, with that trust, with that grounding, with that centering, with that great balance . . . Now it is only a tripod, three legs.

Certainly, something is missing. It is not so certain – some doubt has arisen, trust is no longer complete and perfect, love is no more unpolluted. The disciple’s question is not coming from his whole being, just out of his head. But still, there was much yet to happen. The child went on growing. As far as age is concerned it seems a growth, but as far as innocence is concerned it is an involution. Both are going side by side: evolution as far as age and body are concerned, and involution as far as innocence, trust and love are concerned.

After Treta humanity fell still more. The stage after Treta is called Dwapar. One leg is lost again – now everything is unbalanced. Standing on two legs, how can a table have trust, certainty, security, safety, balance? Fear became the predominant quality rather than love, rather than trust. Insecurity became more prominent than a tremendous feeling of being at home. But things went on growing in one direction: as far as material growth is concerned, there was evolution; in another direction as far as consciousness is concerned, there was a continuous fall.

After Dwapar, the age of two legs, is the age we are living in. It is called Kaliyuga, the Age of Darkness. Even the last leg has disappeared. Man is almost in a state of insanity. Instead of innocence, insanity has become our normal state. Everybody is in some way or other psychologically sick.

I am talking about these four ages for a particular reason, because the statement that was made in innocence in the days of the Upanishads has become absolutely incomprehensible to our people, to our contemporaries. Even the people who are the inheritors of the Upanishads are afraid to declare that, “I am God,” that, “I am the Absolute” – what to say about others? Others have their own prejudices.

For example, when Christians started translating the Upanishads they were shocked. They could not believe that there are in existence scriptures so tremendously poetic, beautiful, but what they are saying goes against Christianity, against Judaism, against Mohammedanism, even against today’s Hinduism. Even the Hindu is not capable today of declaring, “I am God.” He has also become impressed and influenced by Christianity to such an extent.

Christian missionaries started condemning the Upanishads because if the Upanishads are right, then what to do with the Bible? The Bible absolutely declares, just as the Koran declares, that there is only one God. If the Upanishads are right then there are as many gods as there are living beings. Some may have come to manifestation, some may be on the way, some may not have started the journey yet but will start finally.

How long can you delay? You can miss one train, you can miss another train, but every moment the train is coming. How long can you go on sitting in the waiting room? And people go on becoming buddhas, and people go on becoming seers and sages, and you are still waiting in the waiting room with your suitcases. How long can you do that? There is a limit when you see that so many people have left already – the whole platform is empty – you will take courage that perhaps it is time to move.

For Christianity the problem was that everybody cannot be God. They cannot even accept everybody to be the son of God, what to say about God? Only Jesus is the son of God.

You are only puppets made of earth. God made man with mud and breathed life into it. It is just a manufactured thing, and if a puppet starts declaring, “Aham brahmasmi” – “I am God” – the puppeteer will laugh, saying, “Idiots! You are just puppets and your strings are in my hands. When I want you to dance you dance, when I want you to lie down you lie down, when I want you to breathe you breathe, when I want you not to breathe you can’t do anything.”

For Christianity it was a tremendous challenge, and they started finding arguments against it. Their first argument was that the person, the seer, the sage – whoever he may be, because even the name is not mentioned in the Upanishads – who declared for the first time, “Aham brahmasmi,” the Christian missionaries started saying that he was a megalomaniac, that he was suffering from a big ego. They were full of prejudice. They could not see the simple fact that it was not the ego that was declaring – because the Upanishads say it clearly: unless your ego disappears, you cannot even understand the meaning of “I am the Ultimate.”

It is not the declaration of ego. This declaration is possible only on the death of ego. That is a clear-cut statement in the Upanishads. But Christian missionaries went on misinterpreting the Upanishads to the West, distorting and commenting that these people were almost mad. Obviously, to a Mohammedan or to a Christian, the idea that somebody says, “I am God,” is very shocking. […]

When Christians – particularly the learned, scholarly missionaries – started translating the Upanishads, they distorted it in every way and they made comments, saying, “This is a statement of somebody who is utterly insane, whose ego is too big. And he is not religious at all, because a religious man should be humble. How can a religious man declare, ‘I am God’?”

This is very strange about religions. They can see the faults of each other but they cannot see their own faults. When Jesus declares, “I am the only begotten son of God,” they don’t see any ego – it is humbleness.

The Upanishads are not egoistic. They are not saying that the one sage who declares, “I am God,” is saying something only about himself. He is saying that you are also God – just as I am God, you are God. We are all part of a godliness. We are all part of the same ocean. This fish and that fish are not different; they are all born out of the same ocean and they will all disappear into the same ocean.

The Upanishads’ statement is not egoistic at all, but religions which are God-centered cannot accept it easily. Even Hindus, whose forefathers made this statement, have become so cowardly that now they do not dare to make such a statement. They themselves think that it is egoistic.

Christianity and Mohammedanism have both impressed too much – even on the Hindu mind. The Hindu mind is no longer pure Hindu. […]

And you are asking, Anando, what is the connection between this great statement – it is actually called mahavakya: ‘the great statement’ – with another statement of the same significance, sachchidanand. Sachchidanand consists of three words, as I have told you: Sat – truth; Chit – consciousness; Anand – bliss. These three experiences make one capable of asserting the great statement, “Aham brahmasmi.” They are deeply connected. In fact, if sachchidanand is the flower, then “Aham brahmasmi” is the fragrance, so deep is the connection between the two.

Certainly, “I am the Ultimate” is the very conclusion of the whole search of the East – of all the Buddhas, of all the mystics. A single sentence can be called the conclusion of the whole of India. But God-centered religions will not be ready to accept it. That simply shows that their understanding is not of truth, not of consciousness, not of bliss.

Their understanding is of a very low order: it is not an experience, but only a belief. One is a Christian only by belief; a Jew only by belief; a Mohammedan only by belief. What the Upanishads are saying is not any belief – it is direct, immediate experience. And they are so poetic, so mystic, that there is no comparison in the whole world’s literature.

But this final flowering and fragrance is possible only if you start with meditation and not with prayer. These two ways will take you to different conclusions: prayer will take you more and more into fiction and meditation will take you more and more into truth. Meditation is to go within wards, and prayer is to look upwards, into the empty sky, with all your desires and greed and demands, with all your fears and insecurities. God is to you, if you are on the path of prayer, a consolation and nothing more, but if you are on the path of meditation, God will become one day your very own self, your very own existence. […]

If you want fictions, prayer is the path. All the religions that are based on prayer are not authentic religions.

But meditation is a totally different route. It takes you inwards; it takes you away from the world towards your own being. It is not a demand, it is not a desire, it is not greed, it is not asking or requesting anything. It is simply being silent, utterly silent, moving deeper and deeper into silence . . .

And a moment comes of sublime silence, and then a sudden explosion of light and you will feel yourself saying, “Aham brahmasmi.” Not outwards, because you are not saying it to anybody in particular – it will be just a feeling in the deepest core of your being. No language is needed, just an experience that, “I am the whole, I am the all. And just as I am the whole, everybody else is,” so there is no question of any ego or megalomania.

The Christian missionaries who interpreted the Upanishads were absolutely prejudiced and had no understanding about meditation and no understanding about the higher qualities of a true religion. They knew only an organized church. In comparison to the Upanishads, every religion of the world looks so ‘pygmy’, so childish.

Those organized religions don’t give you freedom. On the contrary, they give you deeper and deeper bondage and slavery. In the name of God, you have to surrender, in the name of God you have to become a sheep and allow a Jesus or a Mohammed to be a shepherd. It is so disgusting, the very idea is so self-disrespectful that I cannot call it even pseudo-religious. It is simply irreligious.

The Upanishads are the highest flights of consciousness. They don’t belong to any religion. The people who made these great statements have not even mentioned their names. They don’t belong to any nation, they don’t belong to any religion, they don’t belong to those who are in search of some mundane thing.

They belong to the authentic seekers of truth.

They belong to you.

They belong to my people.

-Osho

From Sat Chit Anand; Truth, Consciousness, Bliss, Discourse #12

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.

The Bridegroom is Waiting for You – Osho

Now, try to understand these sutras of Patanjali.

The seen which is composed of the elements and the sense organs is of the nature of stability, action, and inertia, and is for the purpose of providing experience and thus liberation to the seer.

 The first thing to be understood is that the world exists for you to be liberated. Many a time the question has arisen in your mind: “Why does this world exist? Why is there so much suffering? For what? What is the purpose of it?” Many people come to me and they say, “This is the ultimate question — ‘Why are we at all?’ And if life is such a suffering, what is the purpose of it? If there exists a God, why can’t he destroy all this chaos? Why can’t he destroy this whole suffering life, this hell? Why does he go on forcing people to live in it?” Yoga has the answer: Patanjali says, ” . . . for the purpose of providing experience and thus liberation to the seer.”

It is a training; suffering is a training — because there is no possibility of becoming mature without suffering. It is like fire: the gold, to be pure, has to pass through it. If the gold says. “Why!” then the gold remains impure, worthless. Only by passing through the fire will all that is not gold be burned, and only the purest gold will remain. That’s what liberation is all about: a maturity, a growth so ultimate that only the purity, only the innocence remains, and all that was useless has been burned.

There is no other way to realize it. There cannot be any other way to realize it. If you want to know what satiety is, you will have to know hunger. If you want to avoid hunger, you will avoid satiety also. If you want to know what deep quenching is, you will have to know thirst, deep thirst. If you say, “I don’t want to be thirsty,” then you will miss that beautiful moment of deep quenching of the thirst. If you want to know what light is, you will have to pass through a dark night; the dark night prepares you to realize what light is. If you want to know what life is, you will have to pass through death; death creates the sensitivity in you to know life. They are not opposites; they are complementary.

There is nothing which is opposite in the world; everything is complementary. “This” world exists so that you can know “that” world; “this” exists to know “that.” The material exists to know the spiritual; the hell exists to come to heaven. This is the purpose. And if you want to avoid one you avoid both, because they are two aspects of the same thing. Once you understand, there is no suffering: you know this is training, a discipline. Discipline is to be hard. It has to be hard because only then will real maturity come out of it.

Yoga says this world exists as a training school, a learning school — don’t avoid it and don’t try to escape from it. Rather live it and live it so totally that you need not be forced again to live it. That’s the meaning when we say that an enlightened person never comes back — there is no need. He has passed all the examination that life provides. He need not come back. You have to be forced again and again to the same life pattern because you don’t learn. You go on repeating the experience without learning. The same experience you repeat again and again — the same anger. How many, how many thousand times have you been angry? Count it. What have you learned out of it? Nothing. Whenever the situation arises, you will be angry again — the same, as if it is for the first time that you are getting into anger.

How many times has greed, lust possessed you? Again, it will possess. And again, you will react in the old way — as if you have decided not to learn. And to be ready to learn is to be ready to become a yogi. If you have decided not to learn, if you want to remain blindfolded, if you want to repeat the same nonsense again and again; then you will have to be thrown back: you will have to be sent back to the same class — unless you pass.

Don’t take life in any other way. It is a vast training school, the only university there is. The word “university” comes from “universe.” In fact, no university should call itself “university”; the name is too big. The whole universe is the only university. But you have created small universities, and you think that when you pass through them you have become entitled, as if you have become a knower. No, these small, man-made universities won’t do. You will have to pass through this university your whole life.

Says Patanjali, ” . . . for the purpose of providing experience and thus liberation . . .” Experience is liberating. Jesus has said, “Know the truth and the truth will liberate you.” Whenever you experience a thing, alert, aware, fully watching what is happening — participating and watching together — -it is liberating. Immediately, something arises out of it: an experience which becomes true. You have not borrowed it from scriptures; you have not borrowed it from somebody else.

Experience cannot be borrowed; only theories can be borrowed. That’s why all theories are dirty, because they have been passing through so many hands, so many millions of hands. They are just like dirty currency notes. Experience is ever fresh — fresh like the dew in the morning, fresh like this morning’s rose. Experience is always innocent and virgin — nobody has ever touched it. You come upon it for the first time. Your experience is yours, it is nobody else’s, and nobody Can give it to you.

Buddhas can indicate the way, but you have to walk. No Buddha can walk for you; there is no possibility. A Buddha cannot give his eyes to you so that you can look through them. Even if the Buddha gives you the eyes, you will change the eyes — the eyes will not be able to change you. When the eyes will be fit into your mechanism, your mechanism will change the eyes themselves, but the eyes cannot change you. They are parts; you are a very big phenomenon.

I cannot lend my hand to you. Even if I do, the touch will not be mine, it will be yours. When you will go and feel something — even from my hand — it will be you who will feel, not my hand. There is no possibility of borrowing reality.

Experience liberates. Every day I come across people who say, “How is one to get free from anger? How is one to get free from sex, lust? How is one to get free from this and that?” And when I say, “Live it through,” they are shocked. They had come to me in search of a method to repress themselves. And if they had gone to another guru in India, they would have found some method to repress themselves with. But repression can never be liberating, because repression means repressing experience. Repression means cutting all the roots of experience. It can never be liberating. Repression is the greatest bondage that you can find anywhere.

You live in a cage. Just the other day, one new sannyasin told me, “I feel like an animal in a cage.” There is every possibility that he meant that he wanted me to help him so that the animal is killed, because we say “animal” only when we condemn. The very word carries condemnation. But when I told the sannyasin, “Yes, I will help you. I will break the cage and make the animal completely free,” he was a little shocked; because when you say “animal” you have already valued it, condemned it — it is not a simple fact. In the very word “animal” or “animality” you have said everything that you wanted to say. You don’t accept it. You don’t want to live it. That’s why you have created the cage.

Cage is character. All characters are cages, imprisonments, chains around you. And men of character are imprisoned men. A really awakened man is not a man of character. He is alive. He is fully alive, but he has no character, because he has no cage. He lives spontaneously; he lives through awareness — so nothing can go wrong — but he has no cage around him to protect him.

The cage is a substitute for awareness. If you want to live a sleepy life you need character, so the character gives you guidelines. Then you need not be alert. You are going to steal something — the character just hinders you: it says, “No! This is wrong! This is sin! You will suffer in hell! Have you forgotten the whole Bible? Have you forgotten all the punishment that a man has to go through?” This is character. This is just hindering you. You want to steal; character is just a hindrance.

A man of awareness will not steal, but he has no character; and that is the miracle and the beauty. He has no character, and he will not steal, because he understands. Not that he is afraid of sin — there is nothing like sin; at the most, errors — nothing like sin. He is not afraid of being punished, because punishment is not in the future — it is not that sins are punished, in fact: sins are the punishment. It is not that you are angry today and tomorrow you will be punished or in the next life — sheer nonsense. When you put your hand in the fire today, do you think it will be burned in the next life? When you put your hand in the fire today it burns today; immediately it burns. Putting the hand in and the burning of it — all simultaneous. Not even a single moment’s gap. Life never believes in the future because life is only present.

Not that sins will be punished in the future, sins are the punishment. Intrinsic punishment is there: you steal and you are punished. In the very stealing you are punished — because you are more imprisoned: you will become more afraid; you will not be able to face the world; continuously, you will feel some guilt, you have done something wrong, any moment you can be caught. You are already caught! Maybe nobody ever catches you and no court punishes you — and there is no other heavenly court anywhere — but you are caught. You are caught by yourself. How will you forget it? How will you forgive yourself? How will you undo the thing that you have done? It will linger and linger. It will follow you like a shadow; it will haunt you like a ghost. It itself is the punishment.

Character hinders you from committing wrong things, but it cannot hinder you from thinking them. But to steal or to think about it is the same. To commit a murder really and just to think about it is the same, because as far as your consciousness is concerned you have committed it if you have thought about it. It never became action because the character hindered you; if the character was not there it would have become action. So in fact character, at the most, does this: it hinders the thought; it doesn’t allow it to be transformed into action.

It is good for the society, but nothing good for you. It protects the society; your character protects the society. Your character protects others, that’s all. That’s why every society insists on character, morality, this and that; but it does not protect you.

You can be protected only in awareness. And how to gain awareness? There is no other way except to live life in its totality. ” . . . for the purpose of providing experience and thus liberation to the seer.”

“The seen which is composed of the elements and the sense organs is of the nature of . . .” three gunas. Yoga believes in three gunas: sattva, rajas, tamas. Sattva is the quality which makes things stable; rajas is the quality which gives action; and tamas is the quality which is inertia. These three are the basic qualities. Through these three this whole world exists. This is the yoga trinity.

Now physicists are ready to agree with yoga. They have split the atom and they have come across three things: electrons, neutrons, protons. Those three are of the same three qualities: one is of the quality of light — sattva — stability; another is of the quality of rajas — activity, energy, force; and the third is of the quality of inertia — tamas. The whole world consists of these three gunas; and through these three gunas, a man of awareness has to pass. He has to experience all these three gunas. And if you experience them as a harmony, which is the real discipline of yoga . . .

Everybody experiences: sometimes you feel lazy, sometimes you feel so full of energy; sometimes you feel so good and light, and sometimes you feel so evil and bad; sometimes you are a darkness, and sometimes you are a dawn. You feel all these gunas. Many moments of them come continuously, you move in a wheel, but they are not in proportion. A man of lethargy is ninety percent lethargy. He is active also — he has to be because just to keep on living a life of lethargy he will have to act a little. That’s all his activity is — just to support his inertia. And he has to be a little good to people also; otherwise people will be very, very bad to him. People will not tolerate his inertia.

Have you watched? People who are not very active . . . For example, very fat people are always smiling. That is their protection. They know they cannot fight. They know that if the fight happens, they cannot escape, they cannot “flight.” You always see very fat people smiling, happy. What is the reason? Why do thin people look sad and why do fat people never look so sad, always happy? Psychologists and physiologists say that is their protection, because in the struggle of life it will be very difficult for them to be always in a fighting mood, as lean and thin people always are. They can fight — if the other person is weak, they will beat him; if the other person is strong, they will escape. They can do both, and the fat person cannot do either — he goes on smiling; he goes on being good to everybody. That’s his protection so others should be good to him.

Lazy people are always good. They have never committed any bad thing because even to commit a sin one need be a little active. You cannot make a lazy person a Hitler, impossible. You cannot make a lazy person a Napoleon or Alexander, impossible. Lazy persons have not committed any great sin; they cannot. They are, in a way, good people because even to commit a sin or to do something bad they will have to be active — that’s not for them.

Then there are active people, unbalanced; they are always on the go. They are not worried in any way where to reach; they are only worried how to go with speed. They don’t bother about whether they are leaching anywhere — that is not the point at all. If they are moving with speed everything is okay. Don’t ask, “Where are you going?” They are not going anywhere; they are simply going. They have no destiny. They have only energy to be active. These people are the dangerous people in the world, more dangerous than the lazy people. Out of this second category come all Adolf Hitlers, Mussolinis, Napoleons, Alexanders. All mischief-mongers come from the second category because they have energy, a disproportionate energy.

Then there is a third kind of people, which is rare to find: somewhere a Lao Tzu just sitting silently — not lazy, passive. Not active, not lazy — passive: full of energy, a reservoir, but sitting silently. Have you watched somebody sitting silently, full of energy? You feel a field around him, radiant with life, but still — not doing anything, just being.

And yoga is to find the equilibrium between these three. If you can find a balance between these three, suddenly you transcend. If one is more than the others, then that one becomes your problem. If you are more lazy than active, then laziness will be your problem: you will suffer through it. If activity is more than laziness, then you will suffer from your activity. And the third is never more, it is always less; but even if that is theoretically possible — that somebody is too good — that too will be a suffering for him, that too will create imbalance. A right life is a life of balance.

Buddha has eight principles for his disciples. Before every principle he adds a word, sama. If he says, “Be aware,” he not only says “smriti,” he says “samyak smriti.” In English they have always been translating it as “right memory.” If he says, “Be active,” he always says, “Be rightly active.” By “rightly” he means be in an equilibrium. The Indian term samyak means equilibrium. Even for samadhi, even for meditation, Buddha says “samyak samadhi.” Even samadhi can be too much, and then it will be dangerous. Even good can be too much, and then it will be dangerous.

Equilibrium should be the key factor. Whatsoever you do, always be balanced like a man walking on a tightrope, continuously balancing. That is the rightness: the factor of balance. The man who wants to attain to the ultimate marriage, ultimate yoga, has to be in a deep balance. In balance you transcend all the three gunas. You become gunateet: you go beyond all these three attributes. You are no longer part of the world; you have gone beyond.

The three gunas — stability, action, and inertia — have four stages: the defined, the undefined, the indicated, and the unmanifest.

These three gunas have four stages. The first, Patanjali calls “the defined.” You can call it matter; that is the most defined thing around you. Then, “the undefined” — you can call it mind; that too is there, felt by you continuously, but is an undefined factor. You cannot define what mind is. You know it, you live it continuously, but you cannot define it. Matter can be defined but not mind. And then “the indicated” — the indicated is even subtler than the undefined: it is the self. You can only indicate it. You cannot even say it is undefined because to say something is undefined is, in a subtle way, to define it, because that too is a definition. To say that something is undefined . . . you have already defined it in a negative way; you have said something about it. So, then, there is this subtle layer of existence, which is self, that is the indicated. And then beyond it there is again the subtlest which is “the unmanifest” — unindicated — that is, no-self.

So: matter, mind, self, no-self — these are the four stages of all these three gunas.

If you are deeply in lethargy, you will be like matter. A man of lethargy is almost matter, vegetates; you don’t find him alive. Then there is the second quality, mind. If rajas, activity, is too much, then you become too much of the mind. Then you are very, very active — mind is continuously active, obsessed with activity, continuously in search of new occupations. Somebody asked Edmund Hillary, who was the first man to reach the Everest peak, “Why? Why did you take such a risk?” He said, “Because the Everest peak was there, man had to go.” There is nothing . . . Why is man going to the moon? Because the moon is there. How can you avoid it? You have to go. A man of activity is continuously in search of occupation. He cannot remain unoccupied, that is his problem Unoccupied he is hell; occupied he forgets himself.

If tamas, inertia, is too much, you become like matter. If rajas is too much you become mind: mind is activity. That’s why mind goes mad. Then, if sattva is too much you become self, you become atma. But that too is an imbalance. If all the three are in balance, then comes the fourth, the no-self. That is your real being where not even the feeling of “I” exists, that’s why the term “no-self.”

These are the four stages — three of un-equilibrium, and the fourth of equilibrium. First is defined, second is undefined, third is indicated, fourth is not even indicated. unindicated; and the fourth is the most real. The first seems to be most real because you live in the first. The second seems to be very near because you live in the mind. The third even seems to be a little far away, but you can understand. Fourth seems to be simply unbelievable — no-self? Brahman, God, whatsoever you name it, seems to be very far away, seems to be almost non-existential; and that is the most existential.

The seer, although pure consciousness, sees through the distortions of the mind.

And that fourth, even if you attain it . . . while you are in the body you will have to use all the layers of your being. Even a Buddha, when he talks to you, has to talk through the mind. Even a Buddha, when he walks . . . he has to walk through the body. But now, once you have known that you are beyond mind, the mind can never deceive you: you can use it and you will never be used by it. That’s the difference. Not that a Buddha doesn’t use mind, he uses: he uses; you are being used. Not that he doesn’t live in the body: he lives; you are being lived — the body is the master and you are the slave. Buddha is the master; the body is the slave. A total change, a total mutation happens — that which is up goes down and that which is down goes up.

The seen exists for the seer alone.

This is the climax of yoga or vedanta: “The seen exists for the seer alone.” When the seer disappears, the seen disappears, because it was there only for the seer to be liberated. When the liberation has happened, it is not needed. This will create many problems because a Buddha . . . for him the seen has disappeared, but for you it still exists. There is a flower, somebody amongst you becomes an enlightened person: for him the flower has disappeared, but for you it still continues. So how is it possible — for one it disappears and for you it continues?

It is just like this: you all go to sleep this night, you all dream; then, one person becomes awake — his sleep is broken, his dream disappears — but all others’ dreams continue. His disappearance of the dream does not help in any way for your dreams to be disturbed; they continue on their own. That’s why enlightenment is individual. One person becomes awakened; all others continue in their ignorance. He can help others to be awakened. He can create devices around you to help you come out of your sleep, but unless you come out of your sleep your dream will continue: “The seen exists for the seer alone.”

Although the seen is dead to him who has attained liberation, it is alive to others because it is common to all.

 In India we have made only one distinction between dream and that which you call reality, and this is the distinction: that dreams are private realities and this reality that you call the world is a common dream, that’s all. When you dream you dream a private world. In the night you live a private life; you cannot invite anybody else to share in your dream. Even your closest friend or your wife or your beloved is far away. When you are dreaming you are dreaming alone. You cannot take anybody there; it is a private world. Then what is this world, because in India we have called this world also dreamlike? This is a common dream. We all dream together because our minds function in the same way.

Just go to the river. Take a straight stick with you; you know the stick is straight. Push it down in the river: immediately, you see it has become crooked, bent. Pull it out; you know it is straight. Again put it in the water; it has again become bent. Now, you know well that the stick remains the same, but the functioning of your mind and the functioning of the light rays create the phenomenon, illusion, that it has become bent. Even if you know now, still it will be bent. Your knowledge will not help. You know well, perfectly well, it is not bent, but it looks bent — because the functioning of the eyes and the light rays is such that the illusion is created. Then take a dozen friends with you: you all will see it bent. It is a common illusion. The world is a common dream.

The seer and the seen come together so that the real nature of each may be realized.

The cause of this union is ignorance.

To be united with this world. which is like a dream, to be united with the body, with the mind — which you are not — is a necessity. Through this union you will be prepared for a greater union. Through this union you will come to realize that this union is false. The day you realize that this union is false, the final union will happen.

When you are divorced from the world, you get married to the divine. When you are married to the world, you remain in a divorce from God. That’s why all the mystics — Meera, Chaitanya, Kabir; in the West, Theresa — they all talk in terms of marriage, in terms of bride and bridegroom. And they are all waiting for a final consummation.

The allegory has always been used. Psychologists have even become suspicious about it, about why mystics use that allegory of love, marriage, embrace, kiss. In India even sexual intercourse has been used as an allegory: when the final marriage happens there is the ultimate crescendo, the total orgasm of the individual with the whole, of the wave with the ocean.

Why do these people use sexual allegories? Psychologists suspect that there must be some repression about sex. They are wrong. There is no repression about sex, but sex is such a fundamental phenomenon, how can religion avoid it? It has to be used. And sex is the only, the deepest, phenomenon where you lose yourself. You don’t know any other phenomenon where you lose yourself so completely. And in God or in the total one loses himself completely — becomes a no-self. In sex just a little glimpse of it comes to you. It is good to use the allegory of marriage, of bride and bridegroom.

Remain married to the world and you remain divorced from the divine. Pass through the worldly experience — enriched, liberated — suddenly you become aware that this marriage was illusory, a dream. Now, the real marriage is getting ready for you. The bridegroom is waiting for you.

-Osho

From Yoga: A New Direction, Discourse #5; Yoga: Science of the Soul, V.5 (previously titled Yoga: The Alpha and the Omega, V.5)

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.

Meditation Involves all Three

Osho often talks about the difference between concentration, contemplation and meditation or dhyana. Mostly, he is making a distinction in order to prod us on into real meditation or dhyana. But just this morning, and it is so obvious I am almost embarrassed to say that it was a realization, I did, in fact, realize that meditation involves all three. Many times, when I begin my sitting, I first gather myself to move out of identification with the mind into being able to watch the mind. So first, I am focusing my energy into watching. This is concentration.

Only after the watching is concentrated am I able to watch the mind with indifference, to watch the mind like I would watch a river flow from the bank. This watching is equal to contemplation. Just letting the thoughts flow without interference.

If I am able to watch without grasping, without rejecting, without judging and without analyzing, then the flow of thought begins to subside. It is the grasping, rejecting, judging, interfering that perpetuates the movement of thought. When I am able to watch without doing those things and thought subsides, that is when dhyana begins to be revealed. When there is nothing to be seen and there is only watchingness, awareness aware of itself, that is dhyana.

-purushottama

For more on this topic, you may wish to explore:

The Awakening of the Double-Pointed Arrow

Watching and Forgetting the Content

Awakening Before Enlightenment

After Awakening Before Enlightenment

 

I am That – Osho

Soham bhavo namskarah.

The feeling of I am That – So-Aham – is the salutation.

Existence is one, or rather, Existence is oneness. Al-Hillaj Mansoor was flayed alive because he said, “I am the Beloved; I am the Divine; I am That which created the world.” Islam was totally unacquainted with this type of language. This language is basically Hindu. Wherever man has contemplated, man has come to duality: God, the Creator, and the world, the created. Hinduism has taken the boldest jump by saying that the created is the Creator and there is no basic difference.

To Islam or to other dualistic thinking, this looks like sacrilege. If there is no difference between God and the world, between man and God, then for dualistic thinkers it appears that there is no possibility of religion, no possibility of worship, no possibility of salutation. If you are the Divine, then who are you going to worship? If you are the Creator, then who is superior to you? Worship becomes impossible.

But this sutra says that this is the only worship, this is the only salutation: “The feeling of I am That – So-Aham – is the salutation.” Ordinarily, this sutra is absurd, contradictory – because if there is no higher power than you, if you are the highest, then whom are you going to salute? To whom are you going to pay your respects? This is the reason Mansoor was murdered, killed; this is heresy. He was thought to be a heretic, a nastik – an atheist. If you say that you are God, you deny Godhood. Then you are the Supreme.

To the dualistic way of thinking, this is egoistic. The division must be maintained. You must come nearer and nearer, but you must not become the flame itself. You must become intimate with the Divine source, but you must not become one with it. Then respect is possible, worship is possible.

So you can reach to the Divine feet, but you cannot become one with the Divine flame. How can the created become the Creator? And if the created becomes the Creator, that means the created was not the created at all. And if the created becomes the Creator, that means there is no Creator.

This is one type of religious thinking – the dualist type. It has its own reasoning and it appeals to our ordinary minds. So, really, even those who are born Hindus are not Hindus unless they can come to conceive of this attitude – of being one with the Creator. One may be born a Hindu, but there is no basic difference between a Hindu, a Mohammedan and a Christian attitude. Theirs is our basic attitude – the attitude we learn and the attitude by which we behave.

A Hindu is really a deep absurdity, because he takes the impossible jump: the created becomes the Creator. And this sutra says, “This is the only salutation.” If God is there high above and you are here low down, if something in you is not already Divine, there is no bridge possible. You cannot be related to the Divine. You can be related to Him only if you are already related; otherwise there is an unbridgeable gap. God remains God and you remain just the created.

Because of this, a third attitude develops – the attitude of the Jains. They deny God altogether, because they say if there is a God as a Creator and we are just created beings, we can never become Gods. How can something created by you become you? The created will remain the created, and the Creator will always have the capacity to destroy you, because “Creator” also means the capacity to destroy, the capacity for destruction. If God has created the world, he can destroy it this very moment. He is not responsible to you. You cannot ask why because you have never asked why He created the world. So at this very moment, if there is just a whim in the Divine mind, the world can be destroyed. With all your holy men, with all your sinners, the world can at this very moment be destroyed.

So if there is a God, Jains say, then man is not really a spirit. He is just a created thing, not a soul, because then he does not have any freedom. If God is the Creator, then man is not free and then everything becomes meaningless: whether you are good or bad, it is meaningless. God remains the supreme power. He can do anything, He can undo anything. And He is not responsible to you. If you have created a mechanical device you can destroy it: you are not responsible to your mechanical creation. A painter creates a painting; he can destroy it. The painting cannot say, “You cannot destroy me.” And if God is the Creator and man is just a created thing, how can the created thing evolve and become Divine? That is impossible. So Jains say that there is no God. Only then can man become Divine, because only then is man free. With a God we are slaves; with no God we are free.

Nietzsche has said, without knowing that Mahavir has said this before him, “Now God is dead and man is free.” The same was the problem with Mahavir. If God is there, then man is not free. God’s being is man’s slavery, God’s non-being is man’s freedom. So Mahavir says that there is no God and that only then can you become Divine. Mohammedans, Christians, Jews, they say God is, man is, but man is just a created being. He can worship the Divine and come nearer. The nearer he comes, the more he will be filled with Divine light, bliss, ecstasy. But he cannot become one with the Divine, because if he can become one with the Divine that shows that potentially he was already one with the Divine; because nothing can happen in the world which is not already in the seed.

A tree evolves because the tree was in the seed. If you can become Divine, you were already Divine. So Jews, Christians and Mohammedans say that if you are already Divine, then evolving becomes meaningless. If you are already Divine in the seed, then there is no real evolution, then there is no growth, and whatsoever you do or do not do, you will remain Divine. Christians, Mohammedans and Jews say that religious growth is possible only if man is man and God is God. You come nearer and nearer, and that coming nearer is a growth.

It is your choice. You may not come near, you may go far away – this is your freedom. But if you are already Divine, say Jews, Mohammedans and Christians, then there is no real growth. The whole growth becomes just illusory, just a dream growth. You were bound to become Divine because in the seed you were Divine already. So the whole thing becomes hocus-pocus, they say. The whole evolution becomes meaningless.

Hindus take a standpoint just in between these two standpoints. They agree with Jains that man is Divine and they agree with Christians, Mohammedans and Jews that there is God as the Creator. And Still, they say, there is growth, there is evolution. Not only that: they say only then is growth possible. But to them growth means just unfoldment. A seed grows, and the growth is real, authentic, because a seed may not grow and may remain a seed forever; there is no inner necessity to grow But a seed grows only to be a particular tree because that tree is already potential in it.

Man can remain man, man can even fall down and become an animal, or man can grow to be Divine. This is choice! This is freedom! But this possibility, that man can become Divine, shows that somewhere deep down in the seed form man is already Divine.

So it is an unfoldment. Something hidden becomes actual, something potential becomes actual, something that was just a seed becomes a tree. In a way, the Hindu God is totally different from the Mohammedan and the Christian God because for Hindus man can become God. And they say that if you cannot become God, then even the concept of coming nearer and nearer is false – because if you cannot jump into the flame, what does it mean to come nearer and nearer? Then what is the difference between you and someone who is not near? If you can come nearer, then the logical conclusion will be more near, more near, more near, and ultimately you become one.

If you cannot become one, then there is a limit, a boundary, and beyond that boundary and limit there will be a gap between you and the Divine. That gap cannot be tolerated. And if there is a gap which it is not possible to bridge, the whole effort is useless. Hindus say that unless you become the Divine itself, the urge will not be fulfilled. The nearer you are, the more you will feel the gap and the more you will suffer. And when you come on the boundary line from where no growth is possible, you will stagnate and you will die, and the suffering will be unbearable, absolutely unbearable.

Man can become Divine because he is already Divine, and Hindus say you can only become that which you are already. You cannot become that which you are not; you cannot grow to be something else. You can only grow to be yourself.

This attitude has many dimensions. One is God the Creator: we can think of Him as a painter, but Hindus have not thought that way. They say the Creator is not a painter but a dancer: that is why there is the concept of Shiva the dancer. In dance the dancer is creating something, but the creation is not something separate from the Creator. In painting the painter and painting are two things, and the painter can die and the painting can remain. And the moment the painting is complete, it is independent of the painter completely. Now it will take its own course.

Hindus say God is a Creator like a dancer. A dancer is there dancing; the dance is the creation – but you cannot separate it from the dancer. If the dancer dies the dance will die, and if the dance continues the dancer will be there.

One thing more which is basic and important: the dance cannot exist without the dancer, but the dancer can exist without the dance. Hindus say this world is a creation in this way. God is dancing, so whatsoever is created is part and parcel of it.

Another thing: a painter paints; he can complete the painting and then go to sleep. But a dance is a constant creation. God cannot go to sleep. So the world was not created on a particular day; it is being created every moment. Christians think the world was created on a particular day and date, and before that there was no world. They say in a week – in exactly six days – God created the world, and on the seventh day he rested. Now, even if He is, He is no more needed. He may have died meanwhile. The painter can die and the painting can continue. The painter may have gone mad, but the painting remains as it was.

Hindus say not that the world was created but that it is being created every moment. It is a constant flux of creation; it is a continuum. It is a constant flux of creation; it is a continuum of creation. So really, if you look at things in this way, then God is not a person: God is energy. Then God is not something static: God is movement. He is dynamic because a dance is a dynamic movement. You have to be in it every moment: only then can it exist. Dance is an expression, a living expression, and you have to be in it continuously.

The world is a dance, not a painting, and everything is part of this dance, every gesture is Divine. So Hindus say a very beautiful thing. They say if not everything is Divine, then nothing can be Divine. If not everything is holy, then nothing can be holy. If not everything is God, then there is no possibility of any God. This is one dimension – to look at this oneness. They never say there is oneness. They always say everything is non-dual, because Hindus think that to say that the world is one, that Existence is one, gives you a feeling that “one” can exist only if something else also exists.

One is a number. One can exist only if other numbers exist – two, three, four. If there are no other numbers, one becomes meaningless. Then what do you mean by “one”? Because there are nine digits, from one to nine, one is meaningful. It is meaningful in a pattern of digits, of numbers. If there is only one, you cannot say it is one. Then numbers become meaningless.

Hindus say that Existence is non-dual, not one. They mean it is one, but they say it is non-dual. They say it is not two. This is a non-committal statement. If you say “one”, you have made a commitment, you have committed yourself in many ways. If you say “one”, you are saying that you have measured it. If you say “one”, you are saying that Existence is finite.

Hindus say it is non-dual. They mean it is one, but they say it in a roundabout way, and this is very meaningful. They say that it is non-dual – that it is not two. Thus, they only indicate that it is one. It is never said directly, but only indicated. They say only that it is not two.

This is very meaningful, because when we say that the dancer and the dance are one, then there will be many difficulties. If the dance ceases, the dancer will cease – if they are one. Hindus say instead that they are not two. Then the dancer will be there even if the dance ceases, but the dance cannot be there if the dancer ceases.

This non-dualness is hidden; the duality is manifested. “Manyness” is manifest; oneness is hidden. But this many-ness can exist only because of that hidden oneness. Trees are different, the earth is different, the sun is different, the moon is different, but now science says that deep down everything is related and one. The tree cannot grow if there is no sun, but we have come to know only this oneway traffic. We know trees cannot grow and flowers cannot flower if the sun ceases to be. Hindus too say trees cannot grow if there is no sun, but they say also that if there are no growing trees, the sun cannot exist. This is a two-way traffic; everything is related.

Jains say if there is God, then man will be a slave. Mohammedans say if man declares that “I am God”, then God is dethroned and the slave pretends to be-the master. Hindus say there is neither independence nor dependence: Existence is an interdependence. So to talk in terms of dependence and independence is meaningless. The Whole exists as an interdependent whole. Nothing is high and nothing is low because the high cannot exist without that which you call low.

Can the peak exist without the valley? Can the holy man exist without the sinner? Can beauty exist without that which you call ugliness? And if beauty cannot exist without ugliness, then it depends on ugliness. And if the peak cannot exist without the valley, then what is the meaning of calling the peak something high and calling the valley something low?

Hindus say the lowest is the highest and the highest i5 the lowest. By declaring this, they mean that this whole world is a deeply interdependent pattern and all religions are arbitrary. They are good for thinking, for analyzing, for understanding, but basically they are false. And this is the longest jump.

The rishi says, “Soham bhavo namaskarah – the feeling of I am That is the salutation.” Unless the lowest can feel that he is the highest, he cannot be at home in this universe. But this is not a declaration: this is a feeling. You can declare that “I am God” and that may not be a deep feeling at all. That may be just an egoistic assertion. If you say that “I am God and no one else is God”, then you have not felt it. When it is a feeling, it is not a declaration on your part – it is a declaration on the part of the whole Existence.

The rishi says, “I am God, I am That.” He is saying that everything is God, everything is That. With him, the whole Existence declares. So it is not a personal statement. Al-Hillaj Mansoor was killed because Islam could not understand this language. When he said, “I am God,” they thought Al-Hillaj was saying, “‘I’ am God.,” It was not Al-Hillaj at all. It was simply that Al-Hillaj became vocal on the part of the whole Existence. It was the whole Existence speaking through Al-Hillaj, declaring. Al-Hillaj was no more – because if he was, then this declaration becomes personal. So this is the second dimension.

Man exists in three categories. One is when he says “I am” without knowing who he is. This is the ordinary existence of everyone, the feeling of “I am” without knowing “who I am”. The second stage is when he comes to know “I am not” – because the deeper you ponder over this am-ness, the more you dig, the more you will find that you are not, and the whole phenomenon of “I” disappears. You cannot find it. So there is no question of making it disappear. You simply do not find it; it is not there.

If you exist without any search, you feel that “I am”. If you begin to search, you will come to know that you are not. This is the second state: when man comes to know that he is not. First he was probing deep into the phenomenon of “I am”; now he will have to probe into the phenomenon of “I am not”.

This is most arduous. The first is difficult, very difficult. Even to come to the second is a long journey. Many stay at the first. They never probe into “Who am I?” Only very few go into a deep search to know who it is that says “I am”. Then, among those few, very few will go again on a new journey to know what this “I am not” is, what this feeling of “I am not” is. With “I am not”, still I am, but now I cannot say “I am”; I feel as if there is a deep emptiness.

Hindus have said that the first is “I-am-ness”; the second is simply “am-ness”. The “I” is dropped, but my existence is there. Even if I am empty, nothing, still I am. This is called “am-ness”. The first they call ahankar – ego; the second they call asmita – am-ness. If someone goes deep into ahankar, the ego, he comes to asmita, amness. And now, if someone again goes deep into this am-ness, he come to Divineness. Then he says, “I am That; aham brahmasmi – I am God.” Through emptiness. one becomes all. Through nonbeing, one becomes the very ground of Being. Dissolving, one becomes all.

This sutra, Soham bhavo namaskarah, is the feeling of the third state. When man has dissolved completely, ego has disappeared. Even am-ness is not a finite thing now. One has come to the very source, as if one is just a gesture in a dance just a gesture in a dance! He has probed deep, and now he has come to the dancer. Now the gesture of the dance is that “I am the dancer”.

This is going in. First you go in yourself, but you are relative to the universe. So if you continue, then you are stepping down into Existence. If you go on continuing, then from the periphery you will one day come to the center.

Even a leaf in the wind has its own individuality. If the leaf begins to travel inwards, sooner or later it will go beyond itself; it will enter into the branch. If it goes on, then sooner or later it will not be the leaf, it will not be the branch: it will become the tree. If it goes on, sooner or later it will not be the tree: it will become the roots. And if it still continues, sooner or later it will become the Existence: it will go beyond the roots.

But the leaf can remain itself without moving in. Then the leaf can think, “I am”; this is the first stage. If the leaf moves, sooner or later it will find, “I am not the leaf. I am more: I am the branch.” Then, “I am not the branch. I am even more: I am the tree.” And then, “I am not even the tree. I am still more: I am the roots, the hidden roots.” And if the journey goes on, from the roots also it will take a jump – it will become the whole Existence.

This is a feeling, a realization. And this is the more difficult part because intellectually your ego would like to declare that you are God, you are Divine. Intellect tries always to be high, at the peak. The very effort of the ego is to be something supreme. So this can appeal to you, this can appeal to the ego. It can say, “Okay this is right: I am God.”

But this sutra says this is the salutation, and salutation is a deep humility, a humbleness. It is not to put yourself on the peak, because then there is no one whom you can salute. This was the problem with Islam when Al-Hillaj declared. He declared himself God and Islam felt: “This is not humbleness – this is the climax of being egoistic!” So those who killed him felt that they killed him very righteously, in good faith: this was the peak of ego!

This sutra is contradictory. It declares that you are That, and this is the salutation. If this is felt and realized, then the peak will salute the valley – because now there is nothing else but the Divine, and now the peak will realize that it is dependent on the valley. Then light will salute darkness and life will salute death. because everything is interdependent and interrelated. At this peak of realization, one becomes humble – because this declaration of “I am That” is not against anyone. It is for all. Now, through me, everything is declaring its Divinity.

Many people were there when Al-Hillaj was killed; many were throwing stones. He was laughing, he was prayerful, he was loving. There was a sufi fakir also present in the crowd. The whole crowd was throwing stones, and the sufi fakir, just to be one with the crowd, just in order not to let them feel he did not belong with them, threw a flower. He could not throw any stone, so he threw a flower just to be one with the crowd – so that everyone would feel that he was with them, that he belonged to them.

Mansoor began to weep. When the sufi’s flower hit him, he began to weep. The Sufi became uneasy. He came nearer and he asked Mansoor, “Why, when they are throwing stones, are you laughing, praying for them? And I have thrown only a flower!”

Mansoor said, “Your flower hits me more because you know. This is not a declaration for me. I have declared for you and you know, so your flower hits me more. Their stones are just like flowers because they do not know. But this has been a declaration for them. If Mansoor can be Divine,” said Mansoor, “then everything can be Divine. If even Mansoor can be Divine, then everything can be Divine!” Mansoor said, “Look at me! I was no one and yet I declare I am Divine. Now everything can be Divine.”

This is a declaration not from the ego: this is a declaration from a non-ego realization. When one begins to feel that one is nothing, only then can one come to this. Then it is humble; then it is the most humble possibility. It becomes a salutation – a salutation to the whole Existence. Then the whole Existence has a Divinity.

Mystics have denied temples, mosques, churches, not because they are meaningless, but because the whole Cosmos is a temple. Mystics have denied statues, not because they are meaningless, but because the whole Existence is the image of the Divine. But to understand their language is difficult. They appear to us as antireligious – denying statues, denying images, denying temples, churches, denying scriptures; denying everything that we believe to be religious. They are denying only because the Whole is Divine. And if you insist on the part, that shows you do not know about the Whole.

If I say, “This temple is Divine,” just by saying this I have said that the whole universe is not Divine. If this temple is just part of a greater temple, then it is a different thing. But if this temple is against the Whole, against other temples – not only against other temples: if this temple is against any ordinary house even, if this temple says that houses are not holy and only temples are holy, it is a denial of the Whole.

For the Whole, mystics have denied the parts. But for us there is no Whole; we do not know anything about the Whole. So even when the part is denied it is uncomfortable, because that is all we know. If someone says there is no temple, it is enough for us that he is not religious. He may be saying this: that because everything is a temple, do not make anything in particular a temple; do not say anything in particular is Divine, because everything is Divine. This is the salutation.

We are also worshipping. We go to the temple, to the mosque, to bow. We bow down, but the ego remains standing. It is only a bodily movement. The inner ego remains unmoved. Rather, it may become even more straight because you have been to the temple, because you have been to the teerth – because you have been on a holy pilgrimage – because you have been to Kaaba. Now you are no ordinary person! You are “religious” because you bowed down, but it was a bodily gesture. Your ego has become more strengthened by it; it has been a food for your ego. Your ego has been vitalized; it is not dead.

That is why so-called religious persons will always be more egoistic than ordinary worldly persons. They have something more, that you do not have. They are “religious”: they do prayer daily! When you go to a cinema hall your ego may not be strengthened, but when you go to a temple it is strengthened, because in a temple you can never feel that you are guilty. You may feel in a cinema hall that you are guilty; you may feel in a hotel that you are guilty, but you can never feel that you are guilty in a temple. You feel superior; you become more respectable; you gain something in terms of ego.

Look at the faces of persons coming out from temples. Observe them! Their egos are more strengthened. They are coming out with some gain; this has been a “vitamin”. You can bow down without bowing down at all – and that is the problem. Bowing must be inner. And if then the body follows, it is a deep experience. Even in the body it is a deep experience – if you are bowing inwardly with the feeling that because everything is Divine, then wherever you bow down you are at the feet of Divine. If your body moves with this feeling, then your body also will have a deep experience, and you will come out of it more simple, more innocent, more humble.

What to do? Man has invented many things, but they have not helped. And man’s ego is so subtle and cunning, and it can deceive you in such subtle ways that you cannot defeat it. If there is a God somewhere in heaven you can bow to Him, and you can still behave egoistically with the whole Existence because you feel that this world is not Divine. Your Divinity, your God, is somewhere high in heaven. To this world, you can go on behaving as you were behaving, and you can behave even more badly because now you are related to the Supreme Authority. Now you have a direct link. You can dial any moment to the Supreme Authority; you can tell Him to do anything.

Jesus was passing through a village. The village was antagonistic. They would not shelter the disciples of Jesus; they refused. They would not give any food, not even water, so they were having to move to another village. The disciples said to Jesus, “This is your moment. Show your miracles: destroy this village! Such irreligious people should not exist.” These are the disciples who later on created the whole Christianity. They said, “Destroy this village this very moment. This is the time! Show your miracles!” They are asking Jesus to prove that he is the Son, the only begotten Son. They are saying, “Now tell your Father who is high in heaven to destroy this village this very moment!”

Why this arrogance? Why this anger? And they were prayerful people. They were praying daily; they were living with Jesus. Why this arrogance? There were simply some ordinary people in the town. They had only refused to give food. This is not a sin. This is up to them. If I come to your house and you refuse me food, okay – it is up to you. Why this arrogance? And not the whole city had denied them. There were small children and old men, they had not denied them: only a few people had. But the disciples said, “Destroy this whole city. This whole village must be destroyed this very moment.”

The trees had not denied them shelter, but they were asking Jesus to destroy everything that belonged to the village. Why? Through prayer, through salutations, through worship, they have become more arrogant. They are not humble people; humility is far from them. And if they are not humble, how can they be religious? Why did this become possible? Because God is “in heaven.” Then they could feel that “The person who has denied us food is not Divine; the village is not Divine. God is somewhere in heaven and we are God’s chosen people. These people are anti-God, so destroy them.”

Real humility is possible only when God is not far away. He is your neighbor every moment. Wherever you are, He is your neighbor. To put God somewhere else, far away. is very easy, convenient, because then you can behave as you like with your neighbor and God is “always on your side.”

I was reading something: One French general was talking to an English general. It was after the Second World War. The French general said, “We were continuously defeated and you were not defeated. Why is this so?”

The English general said, “This is because of prayer. We pray before we start any fight. We pray!”

The French general said, “But that we also do.”

The English general said, “That is okay, but we pray in English and you pray in French. From where did you get this idea that God knows French? He cannot know it.”

This is how the so-called religious mind becomes arrogant. Sanskrit is the “only sacred language”; you can laugh at the anecdote, but can you laugh at this? You think Sanskrit is the only sacred language and that the Vedas are the only scriptures written by God Himself. You think: “The Koran? How is it possible! From where did you get the idea that God knows Arabic? He knows only Sanskrit!” Then you say, “God is always on my side. If He insists on not being on my side, I can change my God. That is always within my capacity.” So because of that fear, “He always remains on my side. He is my God; He has to follow me.”

This attitude is created because for you the whole Existence is not Divine. If the whole Existence is Divine, then God even understands the language of trees – not only Sanskrit and Arabic, but even the language of the stones. And then it is not a problem of language at all. Then language is irrelevant. It is not prayer which is meaningful now: it is a prayerful mind. And a prayerful mind is something totally different from a praying mind.

This sutra says that this is the only salutation, the only humbleness possible, but in a very paradoxical way. “I am God”: to feel this is the salutation. We would have liked to say, “You are God,” and then it would have been easy to salute. But this sutra says, “I am God. This is the only salutation.” Then we will ask whom to salute. There is really no need to salute. There is no need to salute! It is not an activity; it is not something you have to do. If the whole Existence is Divine, then whatsoever you are doing is a salutation.

Because Kabir continued to work as he was working before his Enlightenment, he was asked about it. He was a weaver; he continued weaving. Disciples would come from far, very, very faraway places, and they would say, “Why? You are an Enlightened One; you are now a Buddha. Why do you continue weaving?”

Kabir would say, “This is the only prayer I know. I was a weaver, so I only know how to salute Him in this way.”

Someone said to Kabir, “But Buddha, when he became Enlightened, left everything.”

Kabir is reported to have said, “He was a king. He knew only I know only this way. This is my prayer, and when I am weaving these clothes, I am weaving them for the Divine.”

And then Kabir would go to the market to sell them. So someone said to him, “But you go to the market to sell them. You say these are for the Divine, so why do you not go to the temple and lay them at the Divine feet?”

Kabir said, “I always lay them at the Divine feet, but my gods are waiting there in the market. My Ram is waiting there, and I believe in living gods.”

This attitude does not need any salutation. Now it is not an act to be done; rather, it is a way to live. your prayer can be just a part of your act – just one act among many. But to persons like Kabir, it is not an act. It is a way to live. So Kabir said, “Whatsoever I am doing is prayer.” It can be, but then the whole Existence must be Divine. Then whatsoever you are doing, if you are eating, it is prayer because it goes to the Existence. Then it is not you who are eating, but the Existence through you. Then, when you are moving or walking, it is prayer because it is the Existence moving through you, walking through you.

When you are dying it is prayer, because it is the Existence taking back that which was given. That which was made manifest is now becoming unmanifest. Then you are not in between. You are no more. You are just an opening, just an opening for the Existence, a window. Existence moves through you, in and out. You are nowhere in between at this moment of nothingness. Man can say, “Aham brahmasmi – I am the absolute; I am That.”

This is not an egoistic assertion: this is one of the most humble of assertions – but it looks very paradoxical. Life is such a complexity that if you have to assert simple truths you have to be paradoxical. If you are asserting complex truths you need not be paradoxical; you can be very logical. This has to be understood: only very simple truths are difficult to express – because the more simple they become, the more non-dual. And when it comes to the very center, then the statement has to imply all dualities.

Look at it in this way: the Upanishads say, “God is near and God is far away.” If you say, “He is only near,” it is false; if you say, “He is only far away,” it is false, because that which is near can become far and that which is far can become near. You can move; you are already moving. “He is everywhere”: this simple truth has to be expressed in a very paradoxical way. He is the nearest and the farthest; He is the minutest and the greatest; He is the seed and the tree; He is birth and death – because if He is life, then He must be both birth and death.

Why not simply say that He is life? Because in our minds, life is against death, so this simple truth – that He is life – cannot be asserted in this way. It has to be asserted in a paradoxical way: “He is birth and He is death; He is both.” He is life only because He is both. He is the friend and the foe, because the foe can become the friend and the friend can become the foe. He is both! We would like Him to be the friend and never the foe, but our likings are not truths. Really, unless our likings and dislikings cease, we cannot come to the Truth. We cannot come to it because we go on choosing and projecting.

This statement is again a paradox. The first part of it, “The feeling that I am Divine, I am That,” is the peak; and the second, “… is the salutation,” is the valley. It is the valley and peak both. First there is the most egoistic assertion possible – “I am That.” And then, falling down unto the feet of everything, the assertion, “ . . . is the salutation.” These are two extremes, two polar opposites, and many things are implied.

If you feel that you are inferior and then you bow down, it is not a salutation. It is just part of your inferiority. If you say, “I am superior,” and you cannot bow down, then you are not really superior – because one who cannot bow down is dead. He cannot be superior. And one who cannot bow down is still afraid somewhere of his superiority – afraid that “If I bow down I will not be superior.” Only one who is at ease with his superiority can bow down; only one who has gone beyond his inferiority can bow down. And this is the highest peak possible – “I am That” – and then from there you bow down.

Buddha has given his past-life memories. In one, he says. “I was just ignorant.” Buddha says, “I was just ignorant. Then a Buddha, a person who had become Enlightened, passed through my village. I went to touch his feet. I touched his feet, but then suddenly I became aware that he was doing something. He was bowing down and then he touched my feet. I became afraid and I said, ‘What are you doing? I should touch your feet; that is as it should be. But why are you touching my feet?’”

That Enlightened One said to Gautam Buddha, “You are touching my feet because I am a Buddha. I am touching your feet because you are a Buddha also.”

Gautam Buddha, in his past life, said to him, “But I am not. I am ignorant; I am no one.”

The Enlightened One said to him, “Because you do not know what you are, you do not know what you can become. You are bowing to a present Buddha; I am bowing to a future Buddha. I have become manifest; you will become manifest. It is only a question of time.”

This bowing down of an Enlightened One is the secret of this sutra. He was a peak, and he is bowing down to an ignorant man. Now from his peak he can see another peak which is hidden in ignorance. It is not hidden for him; to him it is as clear as anything.

You can bow down to this ordinary Existence only when you feel that you are That! To say it in another way: unless you become God you cannot be humble, unless you become God you cannot be innocent. That innocence is expressed through this sutra. Salutations we know. We know about God, we know about salutations. But this sutra is very difficult. It is impossible to conceive of it. It makes you the God and it makes this being the God a basic condition for salutation.

To us, one must always salute to the higher, to that which is higher than us. But this sutra makes you the highest, and that is the basic condition for salutation. Whom to salute? You are the highest, so now salute the lowest. The salutation from the lower to the higher is just ordinary. There is nothing in it. It is the ordinary mind working – the political mind, the ambitious mind. It is working to salute the higher. But you are the highest. Now the mind will say that you need not salute anyone. Now the whole Existence must salute you. You are the highest. Now let the whole world come to you to salute; now let the whole Existence bow down to your feet.

This will be your feeling. If you take it as you are, if you begin to follow this sutra, this will be the feeling: “Now let the whole world come and salute me.” But this sutra says that this is the basic condition for you to salute the Divine.

When there is no one whom you can ask, the ego feels starved. When you feel inferiority, you want someone to salute you. This is a hunger – a hunger for food. This shows that you are still just at the first stage of the mind: “I am.” And below this stage there is nothingness, so whatsoever you put into this “I am” goes deep into the abyss, and the “I am” remains always vacant. […]

-Osho

From The Ultimate Alchemy, V.2, Discourse #10

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.

Where is the Witness – Osho

Where is the witness when the observer and the observed become one?

Anand Pravesh, the observer and the observed are two aspects of the witness. When they disappear into each other, when they melt into each other, when they are one, the witness for the first time arises in its totality.

But this question arises in many people; the reason is that they think the witness is the observer. In their minds, the observer and the witness are synonymous. It is fallacious; the observer is not the witness, but only a part of it. And whenever the part thinks of itself as the whole, error arises.

The observer means the subjective, and the observed means the objective. The observer means that which is outside the observed, and the observer also means that which is inside.

The inside and the outside can’t be separate; they are together, they can only be together. When this togetherness, or rather oneness, is experienced, the witness arises. You cannot practice the witness. If you practice the witness, you will be practicing only the observer, and the observer is not the witness.

Then what has to be done? Melting has to be done; merging has to be done. Seeing a rose flower, forget completely that there is an object seen and a subject as a seer. Let the beauty of the moment, the benediction of the moment, overwhelm you both, so the rose and you are no more separate, but you become one rhythm, one song, one ecstasy. Loving, experiencing music, looking at the sunset, let it happen again and again. The more it happens the better, because it is not an art but a knack. You have to get the knack of it; once you have got it, you can trigger it anywhere, any moment.

When the witness arises, there is nobody who is witnessing and there is nothing to be witnessed. It is a pure mirror, mirroring nothing. Even to say it is a mirror is not right; it will be better to say it is a mirroring. It is more a dynamic process of melting and merging; it is not a static phenomenon; it is a flow. The rose reaching you, you reaching into the rose: it is a sharing of being.

Forget that idea that the witness is the observer; it is not. The observer can be practiced, the witness happens. The observer is a kind of concentration, and the observer keeps you separate. The observer will enhance, strengthen your ego. The more you become an observer, the more you will feel like an island — separate, aloof, distant.

Down the ages, the monks all over the world have been practicing the observer. They may have called it the witness, but it is not the witness. The witness is something totally different, qualitatively different. The observer can be practiced, cultivated; you can become a better observer through practicing it.

The scientist observes, the mystic witnesses. The whole process of science is that of observation; very keen, acute, sharp observation, so nothing is missed. But the scientist does not come to know God. Although his observation is very, very expert, yet he remains unaware of God. He never comes across God; on the contrary, he denies that God is, because the more he observes — and his whole process is that of observation — the more he becomes separate from existence. The bridges are broken, and walls arise; he becomes imprisoned in his own ego.

The mystic witnesses. But remember, witnessing is a happening, a by-product — a byproduct of being total in any moment, in any situation, in any experience. Totality is the key: out of totality arises the benediction of witnessing. Forget all about observing. It will give you more accurate information about the observed object, but you will remain absolutely oblivious of your own consciousness.

Science is objective, art is subjective, religion is neither — neti neti, neither this nor that. Then what is religion? Religion is the meeting of the object and the subject; religion is the meeting of the lover and the beloved. Religion is the disappearance of the separation, of the duality. And in that separation energy is released; energy that was confined by the dual, that was kept separate, simply dances in utter unity.

That unity is witnessing. It happens only once in a while to you, and even then, you don’t take much note of it, because it comes like a flash, and it is gone. And because you don’t understand it, you don’t preserve the experience. In fact, you neglect it, you ignore it; it seems to be dangerous.

It happens when you are in a deep orgasmic state, when the woman and man meet and merge and disappear into each other. It happens only for a single moment at the highest peak. When their energies are no more two, when the energies have penetrated into each other so deeply that you cannot call them two at all . . . that orgasmic peak is the moment where witnessing arises. This is the whole secret of Tantra. Tantra discovered that in orgasmic ecstasy witnessing arises on its own accord. It is a gift from God, a natural gift to enter into samadhi.

But it happens in all creative experiences, because all creative experiences are orgasmic; in a subtle sense, there is something of the sexual and the sensuous in them. When a painter looks at the trees, then the green and the red and the gold of the trees is not the same as when you look at the trees. His experience is orgasmic, he is utterly lost in it. He is not there as an observer; he falls in deep rapport. He becomes one with the green and the red and the gold of the trees.

The painter knows that looking at the beautiful existence is an orgasmic experience. Hence, while the painter is painting, he becomes absolutely nonsexual; he becomes celibate. He is already experiencing orgasmic joy; he need not go into sex at all. Celibacy comes naturally to him.

Thousands of poets and painters and musicians have remained celibate, and with no effort. Monks remain celibate with great effort. Why? The monk is uncreative; in his life there is no orgasmic experience, his mind hankers for the sexual experience. The poet, the musician, the artist, the dancer who is capable of being lost into whatsoever he is doing, is having orgasmic experiences on a higher plane; sex is not a necessity. If once in a while such a person moves into sex, it is not out of need, it is just playfulness, it is simple playfulness. And when sex has the quality of playfulness it is sacred. When it is out of need it is a little bit ugly, because out of need you exploit the other, and out of need it can never take you to the highest orgasmic peak. You remain always discontented somewhere or other, because out of need means there is a motive, there is goal orientation. There is manipulation, exploitation, an effort to use the other as a means. When you are simply playful, it is totally different.

D.H. Lawrence is right when he says that he experienced God in sexual orgasm. But his sexuality is totally different from the sexuality of the monks. They will not be able to understand Lawrence.

Lawrence was one of the most misunderstood men of this century — one of the most beautiful, one of the most creative, one of the most precious, but the most misunderstood. And the reason is that his experience has a totally different quality. When he is talking about sexual orgasm, he is not talking about your sexual orgasm, he is talking about his sexual orgasm. Only very rare people will be able to understand him. He is a natural tantrika — unaware of the science of Tantra, but he stumbled upon it. Somehow a window has opened in his life; his sensuality is spiritual.

It is not a question of what you do, it is a question of how you do it. And ultimately it is a question whether you do it or you allow it to happen. If you allow it to happen, then whenever there is a creative meeting, you will suddenly become a witness. The observer and the observed become one in it — in fact it happens only when they become one.

-Osho

From The Book of Wisdom, Discourse #23, 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.

Kaivalya – Osho

When one has seen this distinction, there is a cessation of desire for dwelling in the atma, the self.

Then the mind is inclined toward discrimination and gravitates toward liberation.

In breaks of discrimination, other pratyayas, concepts, arise through the force of previous impressions. These should be removed in the same way as other afflictions.

One who is able to maintain a constant state of desirelessness even toward the most exalted states of enlightenment and is able to exercise the highest kind of discrimination, enters the state known as “the cloud which showers virtue.”

Then follows freedom from afflictions and karmas.

That which can be known through the mind is very little compared with the infinite knowledge obtained in enlightenment, when the veils, distortions, and impurities are removed.

Having fulfilled their object, the process of change in the three gunas comes to an end.

Kramaha, the process, is the succession of changes that occur from moment to moment which become apprehensible at the final end of the transformations of the three gunas.

Kaivalya is the state of enlightenment that follows the reemergence of the gunas, due to their becoming devoid of the object of the purusa.

In this state, the purusa is established in his real nature, which is pure consciousness.

-Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras

The first sutra:

Visesa-darsina atma-bhava-bhavanavinivrttih.

When one has seen this distinction, there is a cessation of desire for dwelling in the atma, the self.

Buddha has called the ultimate state of consciousness anatta – no self, non-being. It is very difficult to comprehend it. Buddha has said that the last desire to drop is the desire to be. There are millions of desires. The whole world is nothing but desire objects, but the basic desire is to be. The basic desire is to continue, to persist, to remain. Death is the greatest fear; the last desire to be dropped is the desire to be.

Patanjali in this sutra says: when your awareness has become perfect, when viveka, discrimination has been achieved, when you have become a witness, a pure witness of whatsoever happens, outside you, inside you . . . you are no more a doer; you are simply watching; the birds are singing outside . . . you watch; the blood is circulating inside . . . you watch; the thoughts are moving inside . . . you watch – you never get identified anywhere. You don’t say, “I am the body”; you don’t say, “I am the mind”; you don’t say anything. You simply go on watching without being identified with any object. You remain a pure subject; you simply remember one thing: that you are the watcher, the witness – when this witnessing is established, then the desire to be disappears.

And the moment the desire to be disappears, death also disappears. Death exists because you want to persist. Death exists because you don’t want to die. Death exists because you are struggling against the whole. The moment you are ready to die, death is meaningless; it cannot be possible now. When you are ready to die, how can you die? In the very readiness of dying disappearing, all possibility of death is overcome. This is the paradox of religion.

Jesus says, “If you are going to cling to yourself, you will lose yourself. If you want to attain yourself, don’t cling.” Those who try to be are destroyed. Not that somebody is there destroying you; your very effort to be is destructive because the moment the idea arises that “I should persist,” you are moving against the whole. It is as if a wave is trying to be against the ocean. Now the very effort is going to create worry and misery, and one moment will come when the wave will have to disappear. But now, because the wave was fighting against the ocean, the disappearance will look like death. If the wave was ready, and the wave was aware: “I’m nothing but the ocean, so what is the point in persisting? I have always been, and I will always be because the ocean has always been there and will always be there. I may not exist as a wave – wave is just the form I have taken for the moment.

“The form will disappear but not my content. I may not exist like this wave; I may exist like another wave, or I may not exist as a wave as such. I may become the very depth of the ocean where no waves arise . . .”

But the innermost reality is going to remain because the whole has penetrated you. You are nothing but the whole, an expression of the whole. Once awareness is established, Patanjali says, “When one has seen this distinction, that ‘I am neither this nor that,’ when one has become aware and is not identified with anything whatsoever, there is a cessation of desire for dwelling in the atma, in the self.” Then the last desire disappears, and the last is the fundamental. Hence, Buddha says, “You can drop desiring money, wealth, power, prestige – that’s nothing. You can stop desiring the world – that’s nothing – because those are secondary desires. The basic desire is to be.” So people who renounce the world start desiring liberation, but liberation is also their liberation. They will remain in moksha, in a liberated state. They desire that pain should not be there. They desire that misery should not be there. They will be in absolute bliss, but they will be. The insistence is that they must be there.

That’s why Buddha could not get roots into this country which thinks itself very religious. The most religious man who was born on this earth could not get roots into this religious country. What happened? He said, he insisted, to drop the basic desire of being: he said, “Be a non-being.” He said, “Don’t be.” He said, “Don’t ask for liberation because the freedom is not for you. The freedom is going to be freedom from you; not for you, but from you.”

Liberation is liberation from yourself. See the distinction: it is not for you; liberation is not for you. It is not that liberated you will exist. Liberated, you will disappear. […]

In Zen, when meditators sit for many years, just sitting and doing nothing, a certain moment comes when they forget that they have bodies. That is their first satori. Not that the body is not there; body is there but there is no tension, so how to feel it? If I say something you can hear me, but if I’m silent how can you hear me? Silence is there – it has much to communicate to you – but silence cannot be heard. Sometimes when you say, “Yes, I can hear the silence,” then you are hearing some noise. Maybe it is the noise of the dark night, but it is still noise. If it is absolutely silent, you will not be able to hear it. When your body is perfectly healthy, you don’t feel it. If some tension arises in the body, some disease, some illness, then you start hearing. If everything is in harmony and there is no pain and no misery, suddenly you are empty. A nothingness overwhelms you.

Kaivalya is the ultimate health, wholeness, all wounds healed. When all wounds heal, how can you exist? The self is nothing but accumulated tensions. The self is nothing but all sorts of diseases, illnesses. The self is nothing but desires unfulfilled, hopes frustrated, expectations, dreams – all broken, fractured. It is nothing but accumulated disease that you call “self.” Or take it from another side: in moments of harmony, you forget that you are. Later on, you may remember how beautiful it was, how fantastic it was, how far-out. But in moments of real far-outness, you are not there. Something bigger than you has overpowered you; something higher than you has possessed you; something deeper than you has bubbled up. You have disappeared. In deep moments of love, lovers disappear. In deep moments of silence, meditators disappear. In deep moments of singing, dancing, celebration, celebrators disappear. And this is going to be the last celebration, the ultimate, the highest peak – kaivalya.

Patanjali says, “Even the desire to be disappears. Even the desire to remain disappears.” One is so fulfilled, so tremendously fulfilled that one never thinks in terms of being. For what? – you want to be there tomorrow also because today is unfulfilled. The tomorrow is needed; otherwise you will die unfulfilled. The yesterday was a deep frustration; today is again a frustration; tomorrow is needed. A frustrated mind creates future. A frustrated mind clings with the future. A frustrated mind wants to be because now, if death comes, no flower has flowered. Nothing has yet happened; there has only been a fruitless waiting: “Now, how can I die? I have not even lived yet.” That unlived life creates a desire to be.

People are so much afraid of death: these are the people who have not lived. These are the people who are, in a certain sense, already dead. A person who has lived and lived totally does not think about death. If it comes, good; he will welcome. He will live that too; he will celebrate that too. Life has been such a blessing, a benediction; one is even ready to accept death. Life has been such a tremendous experience; one is ready to experience death also. One is not afraid because the tomorrow is not needed; the today has been so fulfilling. One has come to fruition, flowered, bloomed. Now the desire for tomorrow disappears. The desire for tomorrow is always out of fear, and fear is there because love has not happened. The desire to always remain simply shows that deep down you are feeling yourself completely meaningless. You are waiting for some meaning. Once the meaning has happened, you are ready to die – silently, beautifully, gracefully.

“Kaivalya,” Patanjali says, “happens only when the last desire to be has disappeared.” The whole problem is to be or not to be. The whole life we try to be this and that, and the ultimate can happen only when you are not.

When one has seen this distinction, there is a cessation of desire for dwelling in the atma, the self.

The self is nothing but the most purified form of the ego. It is the last remnant of strain, stress, tension. You are still not perfectly open; something is still closed. When you are completely open, just a watcher on the hill, a witness, even that desire disappears. With the disappearance of that desire, something absolutely new happens in life. A new law starts functioning.

You have heard about the law of gravitation; you have not heard about the law of grace. The law of gravitation is that everything falls downward. The law of grace is that things start falling upward. And that law has to be there because in life everything is balanced by the opposite. Science has come to discover the law of gravitation: Newton sitting on a bench in a garden saw one apple falling – it happened or not; that is not the point – but seeing that the apple was falling down, a thought arose in him: “Why do things always fall downward? Why not otherwise? Why doesn’t a ripe fruit fall upward and disappear into the sky? Why not sideways? Why always downward?” He started brooding and meditating, and then he discovered a law. He came upon, stumbled upon a very fundamental law: that the earth is gravitating things toward itself. It has a gravitation field. Like a magnet, it pulls everything downward.

Patanjali, Buddha, Krishna, Christ – they also became aware of a different fundamental law, higher than gravitation. They became aware that there comes a moment in the inner life of consciousness when consciousness starts rising upward – exactly like gravitation. If the apple is hanging on the tree, it does not fall. The tree helps it not to fall downward. When the fruit leaves the tree, then it falls downward.

Exactly the same: if you are clinging to your body, you will not fall upward; if you are clinging to your mind, you will not fall upward. If you are clinging to the idea of self, you will remain under the impact of gravitation – because body is under the impact of gravitation, and mind also. Mind is subtle body; body is gross mind. They are both under the impact of gravitation. And because you are clinging to them – you are not under the impact of gravitation – but you are clinging to something which is under the impact of gravitation. It is as if you are carrying a big rock and trying to swim in a river; the rock will pull you down. It won’t allow you to swim. If you leave the rock, you will be able to swim easily.

We are clinging to something which is functioning under the law of gravitation: body, mind. “Once,” Patanjali says, “you have become aware that you are neither the body nor the mind, suddenly you start rising upward.” Some center somewhere high in the sky pulls you up. That law is called “grace.” Then God pulls you upward. And that type of law has to be there, otherwise gravitation could not exist. In nature, if positive electricity exists, then negative electricity has to exist. Man exists, then the woman has to exist. Reason exists, then intuition has to exist. Night exists, then the day has to exist. Life exists, then death has to exist. Everything needs the opposite to balance it. Now science has become aware of one law: gravitation. Science still needs a Patanjali to give it another dimension, the dimension of falling upward. Then life becomes complete.

You are a meeting place of gravitation and grace. In you, grace and gravitation are crisscrossing. You have something of the earth and something of the sky within you. You are the horizon where earth and sky are meeting. If you hold too much to the earth, then you will forget completely that you belong to the sky, to the infinite space, the beyond. Once you are no more attached with the earth part of you, suddenly, you start rising high.

When one has seen this distinction, there is a cessation of desire for dwelling in the self.

Tadahi viveka-nimnam kaivalya-pragbharam cittam.

Then the mind is inclined toward discrimination and gravitates toward liberation.

A new gravitation starts functioning. Liberation is nothing but entering the stream of grace. You cannot liberate yourself; you can only drop the barriers; liberation happens to you. Have you seen a magnet? – small iron pieces are pulled toward it. You can see those small iron pieces rushing toward the magnet but don’t be deceived by your eyes. In fact, they are not rushing, the magnet is pulling them. On the surface, it appears that those iron filings are going, moving toward the magnet. That is just on the surface. Deep down, something just opposite is happening, they are not moving toward the magnet, the magnet is pulling them toward itself. In fact, it is the magnet which has reached them. With the magnetic field, it has approached them, touched them, pulled them. If those iron filings are free, not attached to something – not attached to a rock – then the magnet can pull them. If they are attached to a rock, the magnet will go on pulling, but they will not be pulled because they are attached.

Exactly the same happens once you discriminate that you are not the body, you are no more bound to any rock, you are no more in bondage with earth, immediately, God’s magnet starts functioning. It is not that you reach to God. In fact, God has already reached you. You are under His magnetic field but clinging to something. Drop that clinging and you are in the stream. Buddha used to use a word srotaapanna: falling into the stream. He used to say, “Once you fall into the stream, then the stream takes you to the ocean. Then you need not do anything.” The only thing is to jump into the stream. You are sitting on the bank. Enter the stream and then the stream will do the remaining work. It is as if you are standing on a high building, on the roof of a high building, three hundred feet or five hundred feet above the earth. You go on standing, the gravitation has reached you, but it will not work unless you jump. Once you jump, then you need not do anything. Just a step off the roof . . . enough; your work is finished. Now the gravitation will do all the work. You need not ask, “Now what am I supposed to do?” You have taken the first step. The first [step] is the last step. Krishnamurti has written a book, The First and Last Freedom. The meaning is: the first step is the last step because once you are in the stream, everything else is to be done by the stream. You are not needed. Only for the first step is your courage needed.

Then the mind is inclined toward discrimination and gravitates toward liberation.

You start moving slowly upward. Your life energy starts rising high – an upsurge. And it is unbelievable when it happens because it is against all the laws that you have known up to now. It is levitation, not gravitation. Something in you simply starts moving upward, and there is no barrier to it. Nothing bars its path. Just a little relaxation, a little unclinging – the first step – and then automatically, spontaneously, your consciousness becomes more and more discriminative, more and more aware.

Let me tell you about another thing. You have heard the word, the phrase: “vicious circle.” Let us make another phrase: “virtuous circle.” In a vicious circle, one bad thing leads to another. For example, if you get angry then one anger leads you to more anger, and of course, more anger will lead you to still more anger. Now you are in a vicious circle. Each anger will make the habit of anger stronger and will create more anger, and more anger will make the habit still stronger, and on and on. You move in a vicious circle which goes on becoming stronger and stronger and stronger.

Let us try a new word: virtuous circle. If you become aware, what Patanjali calls vivek, awareness, if you become aware, vairagya – discrimination – creates renunciation. If you become aware, suddenly you see that you are no more the body. Not that you renounce the body; in your very awareness the body is renounced. If you become aware, you become aware that these thoughts are not you.

In that very awareness those thoughts are renounced. You have started dropping them. You don’t give them any more energy; you don’t cooperate with them. Your cooperation has stopped, and they cannot live without your energy. They live on your energy, they exploit you. They don’t have their own energy. Each thought that enters you partakes of your energy. And because you are willing to give your energy, it lives there, it makes its abode there. Of course, then its children come, and friends, and relatives, and this goes on. Once you are a little aware, vivek brings vairagya, awareness brings renunciation. And renunciation makes you capable of becoming more aware. And of course, more awareness brings more vairagya, more renunciation, and so on and so forth.

This is what I am calling the virtuous circle: one virtue leads to another, and each virtue becomes again a ground for more virtue to arise.

“This goes on,” Patanjali says, “to the last moment” – what he calls, dharma megha samadhi. We will be coming to it later on. He calls it “the cloud of virtue showering on you.” This virtuous circle, vivek leading to vairagya, vairagya leading to more vivek, vivek again creating more possibilities for vairagya, and so on and so forth – comes to the ultimate peak when the cloud of virtue showers on you: dharma megha samadhi.

In breaks of discrimination, other pratyayas, concepts, arise through the force of previous impressions.

Still, though, many intervals will be there. So don’t be discouraged. Even if you have become very aware and in certain moments you feel the pull, the upward pull of grace, and in certain moments you are in the stream, floating perfectly beautifully, with no effort, effortlessly, and everything is going and running smoothly, still there will be gaps. Suddenly you will find yourself standing again on the bank just because of old habits. For so many lives you have lived on the bank. Just because of the old habit, again and again the past will overpower you. Don’t be discouraged by it. The moment you see that you are again on the bank, again get down into the stream. Don’t be sad about it, because if you become sad, you will again be in a vicious circle. Don’t be sad about it. Many times, the seeker comes at very close quarters, and many times he loses the track. No need to be worried; again, bring awareness. This is going to happen many times; it is natural. For so many millions of lives we have lived in unawareness – it is only natural that many times the old habit will start functioning. […]

In breaks of discrimination, other concepts arise through the force of previous impressions.

Many times, you will be pulled back, again and again and again. The struggle is hard, but not impossible. It is difficult, it is very arduous but don’t become sad and don’t become discouraged. Whenever you remember, again don’t be worried about what has happened. Let your awareness again be established, that’s all. Continuously establishing your awareness again and again and again will create a new impact inside your being, a new impression of virtue. One day, it becomes as natural as other habits.

One who is able to maintain a constant state of desirelessness, even toward the most exalted states of enlightenment, and is able to exercise the highest kind of discrimination, enters the state known as “the cloud which showers virtue.”

One who is able to maintain a constant state of desirelessness even toward the most exalted states of enlightenment . . . Patanjali calls it paravairagya: the ultimate renunciation. You have renounced the world: you have renounced greed, you have renounced money, you have renounced power; you have renounced everything of the outside. You have even renounced your body, you have even renounced your mind, but the last renunciation is the kaivalya – renunciation of kaivalya itself, of moksha itself, of nirvana itself. Now you renounce even the idea of liberation because that too is a desire. And desire, whatsoever its object, is the same. You desire money, I desire moksha. Of course, my object is better than your object, but still my desire is the same as yours. Desire says, “I am not content as I am. More money is needed; then I will be contented. More liberation is needed; then I will be contented.” The quality of desire is the same; the problem of desire is the same. The problem is that the future is needed: “As I am, it is not enough; something more is needed. Whatsoever has happened to me is not enough. Something still has to happen to me; only then can I be happy.” This is the nature of desire: you need more money, somebody needs a bigger house, somebody thinks of more power, politics, somebody thinks of a better wife or a better husband, somebody thinks of more education, more knowledge, somebody thinks of more miraculous powers, but it makes no difference. Desire is desire – and desirelessness is needed.

Now the paradox: if you are absolutely desireless – and in absolute desirelessness, the desire of moksha is included – a moment comes when you don’t desire even moksha, you don’t desire even God. You simply don’t desire; you are, and there is no desire. This is the state of desirelessness. Moksha happens in this state. Moksha cannot be desired – by its very nature – because it comes only in desirelessness. Liberation cannot be desired. It cannot become a motive because it happens only when all motives have disappeared. You cannot make God an object of your desire because the desiring mind remains ungodly. The desiring mind remains unholy; the desiring mind remains worldly. When there is no desire, not even the desire for God, suddenly He has always been there. Your eyes open and you recognize Him.

Desires function as barriers. And the last desire, the most subtle desire, is the desire to be liberated. The last, subtle desire is the desire to be desireless. 

One who is able to maintain a constant state of desirelessness, even toward the most exalted states of enlightenment and is able to exercise the highest kind of discrimination . . .

Of course, the ultimate in discrimination will be needed. You will have to be aware – so much so that this very, very deep desire of becoming free of all misery, of becoming free of all bondage, even this desire does not arise. Your awareness is so perfect that not even a small corner is left dark inside your being. You are full of light, illuminated with awareness. That’s why when Buddha is asked again and again, “What happens to a man who becomes enlightened?” he remains silent. He never answers. Again and again, he is asked, “Why don’t you answer?” He says, “If I answer, you will create a desire for it, and that will become a barrier. Let me keep quiet. Let me remain silent so I don’t give you a new object for desire. If I say, ‘It is satchitananda: it is truth, it is consciousness, it is bliss,’ immediately a desire will arise in you. If I talk about that ecstatic state of being in God, immediately your greed takes it. Suddenly, a desire starts arising in you. Your mind starts saying, ‘Yes, you have to seek it, you have to find it. This has to be searched. Whatsoever the cost, but you have to become blissful.’” Buddha says, “I don’t say anything about it, because whatsoever I say, your mind will jump on it and make a desire out of it, and that will become the cause, and you will never be able to attain it.”

Buddha insisted that there is no moksha. He insisted that when a man becomes aware, he simply disappears. He disappears as when you blow out a lamp and the light disappears. The word “nirvana” simply means blowing a lamp out. Then you don’t ask where the flame has gone, what has happened to the flame; it simply disappears – annihilated. Buddha insisted that there is nothing left; when you have become enlightened, everything disappears, like the flame of a lamp put out. Why? – Looks very negative – but he does not want to give you an object of desire. Then people started asking, “Then why should we try for such a state? Then it is better to be in the world. At least we are; miserable – but at least we are; in anguish – but we are. And your state of nothingness has no appeal for us.”

In India, Buddhism disappeared; in China, in Burma, in Ceylon, in Japan, it reappeared, but it never appeared in its purity again because Buddhists learned a lesson: that man lives through desire. If they insist that there is nothing beyond enlightenment and everything disappears, then people are not going to follow them.

Then everything will remain as it is; only their religion will disappear. So they learned a trick, and in Japan, in China, in Ceylon, in Burma, they started talking of beautiful states after enlightenment. They betrayed Buddha. The purity was lost; then religion spread. Buddhism became one of the greatest religions of the world. They learned the politics of the human mind. They fulfilled your desire. They said, “Yes . . . lands of tremendous beauty, Buddhalands, heavenly lands where eternal bliss reigns.” They started talking in positive terms. Again, people’s greeds were inflamed, desire arose. People started following Buddhism, but Buddhism lost its beauty. Its beauty was in its insistence that it would not give you any object for desire.

Patanjali has written the best that it is possible to write about the ultimate truth, but no religion has arisen around him, no established church exists around him. Such a great teacher, such a great Master has remained really without a following. Not a single temple is devoted to him. What happened? His Yoga Sutras are read, commented upon, but nothing like Christianity, Buddhism, Jainism, Hinduism, Mohammedanism exists with Patanjali. Why? – because he will not give any hope to you. He will not give any help to your desire. 

One who is able to maintain a constant state of desirelessness even toward the most exalted states of enlightenment and is able to exercise the highest kind of discrimination, enters the state known as “the cloud which showers virtue.”

Dharma megha samadhi: this word has to be understood. It is very complex. And so many commentaries have been written on Patanjali, but it seems they go on missing the point. Dharma megha samadhi means: a moment comes when every desire has disappeared. When even the self is no more desired, when death is not feared, virtue showers on you – as if a cloud gathers around your head and a beautiful shower of virtue, a benediction, a great blessing . . . But why does Patanjali call it “cloud”? – One has to go even beyond that; it is still a cloud. Before, your eyes were full of vice, now, your eyes are full of virtue, but you are still blind. Before, nothing but misery was showering on you, just a hell was showering on you; now, you have entered heaven and everything is perfectly beautiful, there is nothing to complain about, but still, it is a cloud. Maybe it is a white cloud, not a black cloud, but still, it is a cloud – and one has to go beyond it also. That’s why he calls it “cloud.”

That is the last barrier, and of course, it is very beautiful because it is of virtue. It is like golden chains studded with diamonds. They are not like ordinary chains; they look very ornamental. They are more like ornaments than chains. One would like to cling to them. Who would not like to have a tremendous happiness showering on oneself, a non-ending happiness? Who would not like to be in this ecstasy forever and ever? But this too is a cloud – white, beautiful, but still the real sky is hidden behind it.

There is a possibility from this exalted point to still fall back. If you become too attached to dharma megha samadhi, if you become too much attached, and you start enjoying it too much and you don’t discriminate that “I am also not this,” there is a possibility that you will come back.

In Christianity, Judaism, Mohammedanism, only two states exist: hell and heaven. This is what Christians call heaven, what Patanjali calls dharma megha samadhi. In the West, no religion has risen beyond that. In India we have three terms: hell, heaven and moksha. Hell is absolute misery; heaven is absolute happiness; moksha is beyond both: neither hell nor heaven. In Western languages, there exists not a single term equivalent to moksha. Christianity stops at heaven – dharma megha samadhi. Who bothers anymore to go beyond it? It is so beautiful. And you have lived in so much misery for so long; you would like to remain there forever and ever. But Patanjali says, “If you cling to it, you slip from the last rung of the ladder. You were just close to home. One step more, and then you would have achieved the point of no return – but you slipped. You were just reaching home and you missed the path. You were just at the door – a knock and the doors would have opened – but you thought that the porch was the palace and you started living there.” Sooner or later, you will even lose the porch because the porch exists for those who are going into the palace. It cannot be made an abode. If you make an abode of it, sooner or later you will be thrown out: you are not worthy. You are like a beggar who has started to live on somebody’s porch.

You have to enter the palace; then the porch will remain available. But if you stop at the porch even the porch will be taken away. And the porch is very beautiful, and we have never known anything like that, so certainly we misunderstand – we think the palace has come. We have lived always in anxiety, misery, tension, and even the porch, even to be close to the ultimate palace, to be so close to the ultimate truth, is so silent, so peaceful, so blissful, such a great benediction, that you cannot imagine that better than this is possible. You would like to settle here.

Patanjali says, “Remain aware.” That’s why he calls it a cloud. It can blind you; you can be lost in it. If you can transcend this cloud – Tatah klesa-karma-nivrttih – Then follows freedom from afflictions and karmas.

If you can transcend dharma megha samadhi, if you can transcend this heavenly state, this paradise, then only . . . then follows freedom from afflictions and karmas. Otherwise, you will fall back into the world. Have you seen small children play a game called ludo, ladders and snakes? From the ladders they go on rising, and from the snakes they go on coming back. From point ninety-nine – if they reach the hundred [point], they have won the game, they are victorious – but from point ninety-nine there is a snake. If you reach ninety-nine, you are suddenly back, back into the world.

Dharma megha samadhi is the ninety-ninth point, but the snake is there. Before the snake takes hold of you, you have to jump to the hundredth point. Only then, there is abode. You have come back home, a full circle.

Then follows freedom from afflictions and karmas.

That which can be known through the mind is very little compared with the infinite knowledge obtained in enlightenment, when the veils, distortions, and impurities are removed. 

Just a few sutras back, Patanjali said that the mind is infinitely knowledgeable, the mind can know infinitely. Now he says that which can be known through the mind is very little compared with the infinite knowledge obtained in enlightenment.

As you progress higher, each state is bigger than the first state that you have transcended. When one is lost in his senses, the mind functions in a crippled way. When one is no more lost in the senses and no more attached to the body, the mind starts functioning in a perfectly healthy way. An infinite apprehension happens to mind; it becomes capable of knowing infinities. But that too is nothing compared to when mind is completely dropped, and you start functioning without mind. No medium is now needed. All wheels disappear and you are immediate to reality. Not even mind is there as an agent, as a go-between. Nothing is in between. You and the reality are one. The knowledge that comes through mind is nothing compared to the knowledge that happens through enlightenment.

Having fulfilled their object, the process of change in the three gunas comes to an end.

The whole world stops for the enlightened person because now there is no need for the world to go on. The ultimate has been achieved. The world exists as a situation. The world exists for your growth. The school exists for learning. When you have learned the lesson, the school is no more for you; you have graduated. When somebody attains enlightenment, he has graduated from the world. Now, the school no longer has any function for him. Now, he can forget about the school, and the school can forget about him. He has gone beyond, he has grown. The situation is no longer needed.

The world is a situation: it is a situation for you to go astray and come back home. It is a situation to be lost in and then come back. It is a situation to forget God and to remember Him again.

But why this situation? – because there is a subtle law: if you cannot forget God, you cannot remember Him. If there is no possibility to forget Him, how will you remember, why will you remember? That which is always available is easily forgotten. The fish in the ocean never knows the ocean, never comes across it. Lives in it, is born in it, dies in it, but never comes to know the ocean. There is only one situation when the fish comes to know the ocean: when it is taken out of the ocean. Then suddenly it becomes aware that this was the ocean, my life. When the fish is thrown on the bank, on the sand, then she knows what ocean is.

We needed to be thrown out of the ocean of God; there was no other way to know Him. The world is a great situation to become aware. Anguish is there, pain is there, but it is all meaningful. Nothing is meaningless in the world. Suffering is meaningful. The suffering is just like the fish suffering on the bank, in the sand, and making all efforts to go back to the ocean. Now, if the fish goes back to the ocean, she will know. Nothing has changed – the ocean is the same, the fish is the same – but their relationship has tremendously changed. Now she will know, “This is the ocean.” Now she will know how grateful she is to the ocean. The suffering has created a new understanding. Before, also she was in the same ocean, but now the same ocean is no more the same because a new understanding exists, a new awareness, a new recognition.

Man needs to be thrown out of God. To be thrown into the world is nothing but to be thrown out of God. And it is out of compassion, out of the compassion of the whole that you are thrown out, so that you try to find the way back. By effort, by arduous effort you will be able to reach, and then you will understand. You have to pay for it by your efforts, otherwise God would be too cheap. And when a thing is too cheap, you cannot enjoy it. Otherwise, God would be too obvious. When a thing is too obvious you tend to forget. Otherwise, God would be too close to you and there would be no space to know Him. That will be the real misery, not to know Him. The misery of the world is not a misery; it is a blessing in disguise because only through this misery will you come to know the tremendous blissfulness of recognizing, of seeing face to face . . . the divine truth. 

Having fulfilled their object, the process of change in the three gunas comes to an end.

The whole world of the three gunas: sattva, rajas, tamas, comes to an end. Whenever somebody becomes enlightened, for him the world comes to an end. Of course, others go on dreaming. If there are too many fish suffering on the bank, in the hot sand, in the burning sun, and one fish tries and tries and jumps into the ocean, again back home, for her, or for him, the hot sun and the burning sand and all the misery have disappeared. It is already a nightmare of the past, but for others, it exists.

When a fish, like Buddha or Patanjali, jumps into the ocean, for them the world has disappeared. They are again back in the cool womb of the ocean. They are back again, joined, connected to the infinite life. They are no longer disconnected; they are no longer alienated. They have become aware. They have come back with a new understanding: alert, enlightened – but for others the world continues.

These sutras of Patanjali are nothing but messages of a fish who has reached home, trying to jump and say something to the people who are still on the bank and suffering. Maybe they are very close to the ocean, just on the border, but they don’t know how to enter into it. Or are not making enough effort, or are making them in the wrong directions, or are simply lost in misery and have accepted that this is what life is, or are so frustrated, discouraged, that they are not making any effort. Yoga is the effort to reach to that reality with which we have become disconnected. To be reconnected is to be a yogi. Yoga means: re-connection, re-union, re-merging.

Kramaha, the process, is the succession of changes that occur from moment to moment, which become apprehensible at the final end of the transformations of the three gunas.

In this small sutra Patanjali has said everything that modern physics has come to discover. Just thirty or forty years ago, it would have been impossible to understand this sutra because the whole quantum physics is present, in seed form, in this small sutra. And this is good because this is just the last-but-one. So Patanjali summarizes the whole world of physics in this last-but-one sutra: then, the metaphysics. This is the essential physics. The greatest insight that has come to physics in this century is the theory of quantum.

Max Planck discovered a very unbelievable thing. He discovered that life is not a continuity; everything is discontinuous. One moment of time is separate from another moment of time, and between the two moments of time, there is space. They are not connected; they are disconnected. One atom is separate from another atom, and between the two atoms there is great space. They are not connected. This is what he calls “quanta”: discrete, separate atoms not bridged with each other, floating in infinite space, but separate – just as you pour peas from one carton into another and the peas all fall, separate, discrete, or, if you pour oil from one container into another, the oil falls in a continuity.

The existence is like peas, separate. Why does Patanjali mention this? – because he says, “One atom, another atom: these are two things the world consists of. Just between the two is the space. That is what the whole consists of – the God. Call it space, call it brahma, call it purusa or whatsoever you like; the world consists of discrete atoms, and the whole consists of the infinite space between the two.”

Now physicists say if we press the whole world and press the space out of it, all the stars and all the suns can be pressed into just a small ball. Only that much matter exists. It is really space. Matter is very rare, here and there. If we press the earth very much, we can put it into a matchbox – if all the space is thrown out, unbelievable! “And that too, if we go on pressing it still more,” Patanjali says, “then even that small quantity will disappear.” Now physicists say that when matter disappears it leaves black holes.

Everything comes out of nothingness, plays around, disappears again into nothingness. As there are material bodies – earth, sun, stars – there are, just similar to them, empty holes, black holes. Those black holes are nothingness condensed. It is not simple nothingness; it is very dynamic – whirlpools of nothingness. If a star comes by a black hole, the black hole will suck it in. So it is very dynamic, but it is nothing – no matter in it, simply absence of matter – just pure space, but tremendously powerful. It can suck any star in, and the star will disappear into nothingness; it will be reduced to nothingness. So ultimately, if we try, then all matter will disappear. It comes out of a tremendous nothingness, and it drops again into a tremendous nothingness: out of nothingness, and back into nothingness. 

Kramaha, the process – the process of quantum – is the succession of changes that occur from moment to moment which becomes apprehensible at the final end of the transformations of the three gunas.

This the yogi comes to see at the final stage, when all the three gunas are disappearing into black holes, disappearing into nothingness. That’s why yogis have called the world maya, a magic show. […] It is God’s imagination. The whole is dreaming, the whole is projecting. […]

Patanjali says, “The world is nothing but a cinematograph, a projection.” But this understanding arises only when one achieves to the last point of understanding. When he sees all gunas stopped, nothing is moving, suddenly he becomes aware that the whole story was created by illusory movement, by fast movement. This is what is happening to modern physics.

First, they said when they had come to the atom, “Now this is the ultimate; it cannot be divided anymore.” Then they also divided the atom. Then they came to electrons: “Now it cannot be divided anymore.” Now they have divided that too. Now they have come to nothingness; now they don’t know what has come. Division, division, division, and a point has come in modern physics where matter has completely disappeared. Modern physics has reached via matter, and Patanjali and the yogis have reached to the same point via consciousness. Up to this last-but-one sutra, physics has reached. Up to this last-but-one sutra, scientists can have an approach, an understanding, a penetration. The last sutra is not possible for scientists because that last sutra can be achieved only if you move through consciousness, not through matter, not through objects but directly through subjectivity.

 Purusartha-sunyanam gunanam pratiprasavah kaivalyam svarupa-pratistha va citi-sakter iti. 

Kaivalya is the state of enlightenment that follows the reemergence of the gunas, due to their becoming devoid of the object of the purusa. In this state, the purusa is established in his real nature which is pure consciousness. Finish.

Kaivalya is the state of enlightenment that follows the reemergence of the three gunas . . . when the world stops, when the process, the kramaha of the world stops, when you become able to see between two moments of time and two atoms of matter, and you can move into space, and you can see that everything has arisen out of space and is moving back into space; when you have become so aware that suddenly the illusory world disappears like a dream, then kaivalya. Then you are left as pure consciousness – with no identity, with no name, no form. Then you are the purest of the pure. That you are the most fundamental, the most essential, the most existential, and you are established in this purity, aloneness.

Patanjali says, “Kaivalya is the state of enlightenment that follows the reemergence of the gunas, due to their becoming devoid of the object of the purusa. In this state the purusa is established in his real nature.” You have come back home. The journey has been long, torturous, arduous, but you have come back home. The fish has jumped into the ocean which is pure consciousness.

Patanjali does not say anything more about it because more cannot be said. And when Patanjali says, “Finish; the end,” he does not only mean that the Yoga Sutras finish here. He says, “All possibility to express ends here. All possibility to say anything about the ultimate reality ends here. Beyond this is only experience. Expression ends here.” And nobody has been able to go beyond it – nobody. Not a single exception exists in the whole history of human consciousness. People have tried. Very few have even reached to where Patanjali has reached, but nobody has been able to go beyond Patanjali.

That’s why I say he’s the alpha and the omega. He starts from the very beginning; nobody has been able to find a better beginning than him. He begins from the very beginning, and he comes to the very end. When he says, “Finish,” he’s simply saying expression is finished, definition is finished, description is finished. If you have really come with him up to now, there is only experience beyond. Now starts the existential. One can be it, but one cannot say it. One can live in it, but one cannot define it. Words won’t help. All language is impotent beyond this point. Simply saying this much: that one achieves to one’s own true nature – Patanjali stops. That’s the goal: to know one’s own nature and to live in it – because unless we reach to our own natures we will be in misery. All misery is indicative that we are living somehow unnaturally. All misery is simply symptomatic that somehow our nature is not being fulfilled, that somehow, we are not in tune with our reality. The misery is not your enemy; it is just a symptom. It indicates. It is like a thermometer; it simply shows that you are going wrong somewhere. Put it all right, put yourself right; bring yourself in harmony, come back, tune yourself. When every misery disappears, one is in tune with one’s own nature. That nature Lao Tzu calls tao, Patanjali calls kaivalya, Mahavir calls moksha, Buddha calls nirvana. But whatsoever you want to call it – it has no name, and it has no form – but it is in you, present, right this moment. You have lost the ocean because you have come out of your Self. You have moved too much in the outer world. Move inwards. Now, let this be your pilgrimage: move inwards. […]

You are the temple of God. You are the abode of the ultimate. So the question is not where to find truth, the question is: how have you lost it? The question is not where to go; you are already there – stop going.

Drop from all the paths. All paths are of desire, extensions of desire, projections of desire: going somewhere, going somewhere, always somewhere else, never here.

Seeker, leave all paths, because all paths lead there, and He is here.

Purusartha-sunyanam gunanam pratiprasavah kaivalyam svarupa-pratistha va citi-sakter iti.

-Osho

From Yoga: The Supreme Science, Yoga: The Science of the Soul, V. 10, Discourse #9 (Previously titled Yoga: The Alpha and the Omega, V. 10).

Copyright © OSHO International Foundation

This discourse is the Listening Meditation in the twentieth program of the module, Osho Yoga and the Discipline of Transformation, one of several modules in A Course in Witnessing.

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.

The Witness is Self-Illuminating – Osho

The modifications of the mind are always known by its lord, due to the constancy of the purusa, pure consciousness.

The mind is not self-illuminating, because it is itself perceptible.

It is impossible for the mind to know itself and any other object at the same time.

If it were assumed that a second mind illuminates the first, cognition of cognition would also have to be assumed, and a confusion of memories.

Knowledge of its own nature through self-cognition is obtained when consciousness assumes that form in which it does not pass from place to place.

When the mind is colored by the knower and the known, it is all apprehending.

Though variegated by innumerable desires, the mind acts for another, for its acts in association.

-Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras

The first sutra:

The modifications of the mind are always known by its lord, due to the constancy of the purusa, pure consciousness.

Patanjali takes the whole complexity of the human being into account that has to be understood. Never before and never after has such a comprehensive system ever been evolved. Man is not a simple being. Man is a very complex organism. A rock is simple because the rock has only one layer, the layer of the body. It is what Patanjali calls anamayakos: the most gross, only one layer. You go into the rock; you will find layers of rock but nothing else. Look at a tree and you will also find something else other than the body. The tree is not just the body. Something of the subtle has happened to it. It is not so dead as rock; it is more alive – a subtle body has come into existence. If you treat a tree like a rock, you mistreat it. Then you have not taken into account the subtle evolution that has happened between the rock and the tree. The tree is highly evolved. It is more complex. Then, take an animal – still more complex. Another layer of subtle body has evolved.

Man has five bodies, five seeds, so if you really want to understand man and his mind – and there is no way of going beyond if you don’t understand the whole complexity – then we have to be very patient and careful. If you miss one step, you will not be able to reach to your innermost core of being. The body that you can see in the mirror is the outermost shell of your being. Many have mistaken it, as if this is all.

In psychology, there is a movement called behaviorism, which thinks that man is nothing but the body. Always beware of people who talk of “nothing buts.” Man is always more than any “nothing but” can imply. Behaviorists: Pavlov, B. F. Skinner and company, think that man is the body – not that you have a body, not that you are in the body but simply that you are the body. Then man is reduced to the lowest denominator. And of course, they can prove it. They can prove it because that is the most gross part of man and is easily available to scientific experimentation. The subtle layers of man’s being are not so easily available. Or, to say it in other words: scientific instrumentation is not yet so sophisticated. It cannot touch the subtler layers of man.

Freud, Adler, go a little deeper into man. Then man is not just the body. They touch something of the second body, what Patanjali calls pranamayakos: the vital body, the energy body. But only a very fragmentary part is touched by Freud and Adler; one part by Freud and another part by Adler.

Freud reduces man to just sexuality. That is also there in man, but that is not the whole story. Adler reduces man to just ambition, will to power. That too is there in man. Man is very big, very complex. Man is an orchestra; many instruments are involved in it.

But this has always happened. This is a calamity, but this has always happened: when once somebody finds something, he tries to make a total philosophy out of his finding. That’s a great temptation. Freud stumbled upon sex, and that too, not the whole of sex. He stumbled only upon the repressed sexuality. He came across repressed people. Christian repression has made many blocks in man where energy has become coiled up within itself, has become stagnant, is no longer flowing. He came against those rock-like blocks in the stream of human energy, and he thought – and the ego always thinks that way – that he had found the ultimate truth. Adler, working in a different way, stumbled upon another block of man: the will to power. And then he made a whole philosophy out of it.

Man has been taken in fragments. Yoga is the only philosophy in existence which takes the whole of man into account. Jung went still a little further, deeper. One fragment of the third body of man, manomayakos – he caught hold of it and he created a whole philosophy out of it. To comprehend the whole body – even that has not been possible because the body itself is very complex: millions of cells in a great harmony, functioning in a miraculous way. When you were born in your mother’s womb, you were just a small cell. Out of that one cell, another cell arises. The cell grows and divides in two, then the two cells grow and divide into four. Out of one division – and division goes on – you have millions of cells. And they all function in a deep cooperation, as if somebody is holding them. It is not a chaos; you are a cosmos.

And then, some cells become your eyes, some cells become your ears, some cells become your genital organs, some cells become your skin, some cells your bones, some cells your brain, some cells your nails and your hair; and they all are coming out of one cell. They are all alike. They have no qualitative difference, but they function so differently. The eye can see; the ear cannot see. The ear can hear but cannot smell. So those cells not only function in harmony, but they become experts. They gain to a certain specialization. A few cells turn into the eyes. What has happened? What type of training is going on? Why do certain cells become eyes, and certain other cells become ears, and still certain others become your nose, and they are all alike? There must be a great training inside – some unknown power training them for a specific purpose.

And remember, when those cells are getting ready to see, they have not yet seen anything. When the child is in the womb, he remains completely blind. He has not seen any light; the eyes are closed. A miracle: no training to see and the eyes are ready, no possibility to see and the eyes are ready. The child does not breathe with his own lungs, he has not known what breathing is, but the lungs are ready. They are ready before the child is going to enter into the world and breathe. The eyes are ready before the child is going to enter into the world and see. Everything is ready. When the child is born, he is a perfect human being of tremendous complexity, specialization, subtlety. And there has been no training, no rehearsal. The child has never taken a single breath, but immediately out of the mother’s womb, he cries and takes his first breath. The mechanism is ready before any training has been given: some tremendous power, some power which comprehends all the possibilities of the future, some power which is preparing the child to be able to face all possibilities of life for the future, is working deep within.

Even the body is not completely understood, not yet. Our whole understanding is fragmentary. The science of man does not exist yet. Patanjali’s yoga is the closest effort ever made. He divides the body into five layers, or into five bodies. You don’t have one body, you have five bodies; and behind the five bodies, your being. The same as has happened in psychology has happened in medicine. Allopathy believes only in the physical body, the gross body. It is parallel to behaviorism. Allopathy is the grossest medicine. That’s why it has become scientific because scientific instrumentation is only capable yet of very gross things. Go deeper.

Acupuncture, the Chinese medicine, enters one layer more. It works on the vital body, the pranamayakos. If something goes wrong in the physical body, acupuncture does not touch the physical body at all. It tries to work on the vital body. It tries to work on the bioenergy, the bioplasma. It settles something there, and immediately the gross body starts functioning well. If something goes wrong in the vital body, allopathy functions on the body, the gross body. Of course, for allopathy, it is an uphill task. For acupuncture, it is a downhill task. It is easier because the vital body is a little higher than the physical body. If the vital body is set right, the physical body simply follows it because the blueprint exists in the vital body. The physical body is just an implementation of the vital.

Now acupuncture is gaining respect, by and by, because a certain very sensitive photography, Kirlian photography, in Soviet Russia, has come across the seven hundred vital points in the human body as they have always been predicted by acupuncturists for at least five thousand years. They had no instruments to know where the vital points in the body were. But by and by, just through trial and error, through centuries, they discovered seven hundred points. Now Kirlian has also discovered the same seven hundred points with scientific instrumentation. And Kirlian photography has proved one thing: that to try to change the vital through the physical is absurd. It is trying to change the master by changing the servant. It is almost impossible because the master won’t listen to the servant. If you want to change the servant, change the master. Immediately, the servant follows. Rather than going and changing each soldier, it is better to change the general. The body has millions of soldiers, cells, simply working under some order, under some commandment. Change the commander, and the whole body pattern changes.

Homeopathy goes still a little deeper. It works on the manomayakos, the mental body. The founder of homeopathy, Hahnemann, discovered one of the greatest things ever discovered, and that was: the smaller the quantity of the medicine, the deeper it goes. He called the method of making homeopathic medicine “potentizing.” They go on reducing the quantity of the medicine. He would work in this way: he would take a certain amount of medicine and would mix it with ten times the amount of milk sugar or with water. One quantity of medicine, nine quantities of water; he would mix them. Then he would again take one quantity of this new solution and would again mix it with nine times more water, or milk sugar. In this way he would go on: again from the new solution he would take one quantity and would mix it with nine times more water. This he would do, and the potency would increase. By and by, the medicine reaches to the atomic level. It becomes so subtle that you cannot believe that it can work; it has almost disappeared. That is what is written on homeopathic medicines, the potency: ten potency, twenty potency, one hundred potency, one thousand potency. The bigger the potency, the smaller is the amount. With ten thousand potency, a millionth of the original medicine has remained, almost none. It has almost disappeared, but then it enters the deepest deep core of manomaya. It enters into your mind body. It goes deeper than acupuncture. It is almost as if you have reached the atomic, or even the sub-atomic level. Then it does not touch your body. Then it does not touch your vital body; it simply enters. It is so subtle and so small that it comes across no barriers. It can simply slip into the manomayakos, into the mental body, and from there it starts working. You have found an even bigger authority than the pranamaya.

Ayurved, the Indian medicine, is a synthesis of all three. It is one of the most synthetic of medicines.

Hypnotherapy goes still deeper. It touches the vigyanmayakos: the fourth body, the body of consciousness. It does not use medicine. It does not use anything. It simply uses suggestion, that’s all. It simply puts a suggestion in your mind call it animal magnetism, mesmerism, hypnosis or whatsoever you like – but it works through the power of thought, not the power of matter. Even homeopathy is still the power of matter in a very subtle quantity. Hypnotherapy gets rid of matter altogether, because howsoever subtle, it is matter. Ten thousand potency, but still, it is a potency of matter. It simply jumps to the thought energy, vigyanmayakos: the consciousness body. If your consciousness just accepts a certain idea, it starts functioning.

Hypnotherapy has a great future. It is going to become the future medicine because if by just changing your thought pattern your mind can be changed, through the mind your vital body and through the vital body your gross body, then why bother with poisons, why bother with gross medicines? Why not work it through thought power? Have you watched any hypnotist working on a medium? If you have not watched, it is worth watching. It will give you a certain insight. […]

You may have heard, or you may have seen – in India it happens; you must have seen fire-walkers. It is nothing but hypnotherapy. The idea that they are possessed by a certain god or a goddess and no fire can burn them, just this idea is enough. This idea controls and transforms the ordinary functioning of their bodies.

They are prepared: for twenty-four hours they fast. When you are fasting and your whole body is clean, and there is no excreta in it, the bridge between you and the gross [body] drops. For twenty-four hours, they live in a temple or in a mosque, singing, dancing, getting in tune with God. Then comes the moment when they walk on the fire. They come dancing, possessed. They come with full trust that the fire is not going to burn, that’s all; there is nothing else. How to create the trust is the question. Then they dance on the fire, and the fire does not burn.

It has happened many times that somebody who was just a spectator became so possessed. Twenty persons walking on fire are not burned, and somebody would immediately become so confident: “If these people are walking, then why not I?”; and he has jumped in, and the fire has not burned. In that sudden moment, a trust arose. Sometimes it has happened that people who were prepared, were burned. Sometimes an unprepared spectator walked on fire and was not burned. What happened? – the people who were prepared must have carried a doubt. They must have been thinking whether it was going to happen or not. A subtle doubt must have remained in the vigyanmayakos, in their consciousness. It was not total trust. So they came but with doubt. Because of that doubt, the body could not receive the message from the higher soul. The doubt came in between, and the body continued to function in the ordinary way; it got burned. That’s why all religions insist for trust.

Trust is hypnotherapy. Without trust, you cannot enter into the subtle parts of your being, because a small doubt, and you are thrown back to the gross. Science works with doubt. Doubt is a method in science because science works with the gross. Whether you doubt or not, an allopath is not worried. He does not ask you to trust in his medicine; he simply gives you medicine.

But a homeopath will ask whether you believe because without your belief it will be more difficult for a homeopath to work upon you. And a hypnotherapist will ask for total surrender. Otherwise, nothing can be done.

Religion is surrender. Religion is a hypnotherapy. But, there is still one more body. That is the anandmayakos: the bliss body. Hypnotherapy goes up to the fourth. Meditation goes up to the fifth. “Meditation” – the very word is beautiful because the root is the same as “medicine.” Both come from the same root. Medicine and meditation are off-shoots of one word: that which heals, that which makes you healthy and whole is medicine; and on the deepest level, that is meditation.

Meditation does not even give you suggestions because suggestions are to be given from the outside. Somebody else has to give you suggestions. Suggestion means that you are dependent upon somebody. They cannot make you perfectly conscious because the other will be needed, and a shadow will be cast on your being. Meditation makes you perfectly conscious, without any shadow – absolute light with no darkness. Now even suggestion is thought to be a gross thing. Somebody suggests – that means something comes from the outside, and in the ultimate analysis that which comes from the outside is material. Not only matter, but that which comes from the outside is material. Even a thought is a subtle form of matter. Even hypnotherapy is materialistic.

Meditation drops all props, all supports. That’s why to understand meditation is the most difficult thing in the world because nothing is left – just a pure understanding, a witnessing. That is what this first sutra is.

The modifications of the mind are always known by its lord . . . who is the lord within you? That lord has to be found.

The modifications of the mind are always known by its lord, due to the constancy of the purusa, pure consciousness.

In you two things are happening. One is a cyclone of thoughts, emotions, desires – a great whirlwind around you, constantly changing, constantly transforming itself, constantly on the move. It is a process. Behind this process is your witnessing soul – eternal, permanent, not changing at all. It has never changed. It is like the eternal sky: clouds come and go, gather, disperse . . . the sky remains untouched, uninfluenced, unimpressed. It remains pure and virgin. That is the lord, the eternal within you.

Mind goes on changing. Just a moment before you had one mind, a moment afterwards you have another mind. Just a few minutes before you were angry, and now you are laughing. Just a moment before you were happy, and now you are sad. Modifications, changes, continuous waves up and down; like a yo-yo you go on. But something in you is eternal: that which goes on witnessing the play, the game. The witnesser is the lord. If you start witnessing, by and by, you will come closer and closer to the lord.

Start witnessing objects. You see a tree. You see the tree, but you are not aware that you are seeing it; then you are not a witness. You see the tree, and at the same time you see that you are seeing; then you are a witness. Consciousness has to become double-arrowed: one arrow going to the tree, another arrow going to your subjectivity.

It is difficult because when you become aware of yourself you forget the tree, and when you become aware of the tree you forget yourself. But by and by, one learns to balance, just as one learns to balance on a tight-rope. Difficult in the beginning, dangerous, risky, but by and by, one learns the balance. Just go on trying. Wherever you have an opportunity to be a witness, don’t miss it, because there is nothing more valuable than witnessing. Doing an act: walking or eating or taking a bath, become a witness also. Let the shower fall on you, but inside you remain alert and see what is happening – the coolness of the water, the tingling sensation all over the body, a certain silence surrounding you, a certain wellbeing arising in you – but go on becoming a witness. You are feeling happy; just feeling happy is not enough – be a witness. Just go on watching – “I’m feeling happy . . . I’m feeling sad . . . I’m feeling hungry” – go on watching. By and by, you will see that happiness is separate from you, unhappiness also. All that you can witness is separate from you. This is the method of viveka, discrimination. All that is separate from you can be witnessed, and all that can be witnessed is separate from you. You cannot witness the witnesser; that is the lord. You cannot go behind the lord; you are the lord. You are the ultimate core of existence.

The mind is not self-illuminating, because it is itself perceptible.

The mind itself can be seen. It can become an object. It can be perceived, so it is not the perceiver. Ordinarily, we think that it is the mind which is seeing the flower. No, you can go beyond the mind and you can see the mind, just as the mind is seeing the flower. The deeper you go, the more you will find that the observer itself becomes the observed. That’s why Krishnamurti goes on saying again and again, “The observer is the observed; the perceiver is the perceived.” When you go deep, first you see the trees, and the rose and the stars, and you think the mind is witnessing. Then close your eyes. Now, see the impressions in the mind: of roses, stars, trees. Now who is the perceiver? The perceiver has gone a little deeper. Mind itself has become an object.

These five koshas, these five seeds, are five stations where the perceiver again and again becomes the perceived. When you move from the gross body, the food body, the anamayakos, to the vital body, you immediately see that from the vital body the gross body can be seen as an object. It is outside the vital body. Just as the house is outside you, when you stand in the vital body, your own body is just like a wall around you. Again you move from the vital body to manomayakos, the mental body; the same happens. Now, even the vital body is outside you, like a fence around you; and this way it goes on. It goes on to the ultimate point where only the witnesser remains. Then you don’t see yourself as, “I am blissful”; you see yourself as a witness of bliss.

The last body is the bliss body. It is the most difficult to separate from because it is very close to the lord. It almost surrounds the lord like a climate. But that too has to be known. Even at that last point when you are ecstatically blissful, then too, you have to do the ultimate effort, the last effort of discrimination, and of seeing that the bliss is separate from you.

Then is liberation, kaivalya. Then you are left alone – just the witnesser – and everything has been reduced to objects: the body, the mind, the energy. Even the bliss, even the ecstasy, even meditation itself is no more there. When meditation becomes perfect, it is no more a meditation. When the meditator has really achieved the goal, he does not meditate. He cannot meditate because that too is now an activity like walking, eating. He has become separate from everything. That is the difference between dhyan and samadhi, between meditation and samadhi. Meditation is of the fifth body, the bliss body. It is still a therapy, a medicine. You are still a little ill, ill because you are identifying yourself with something which you are not. All illness is identification, and absolute health is through non-identification. Samadhi is when even meditation has been left behind. […]

It is impossible for the mind to know itself and any other object at the same time.

These sutras are all about witnessing. Patanjali is saying, step by step, that it is impossible for the mind to do two things: to be perceived and to be the perceiver. Either it can be the perceiver or it can be the perceived. So when you can witness your mind, that proves absolutely that the mind is not the perceiver. You are the perceiver. You are not the body; you are not even the mind. The whole emphasis is: how to help you to discriminate from that which you are not.

If it were assumed that a second mind illuminates the first, cognition of cognition would have to be assumed, and a confusion of memories.

But there have been philosophers who say that there is no need to assume a witness; we can assume another mind: mind one is perceived by mind two. That’s what psychologists will also agree to because why bring something absolutely unknown into account? – mind is observed by mind itself, by a subtle mind. But Patanjali gives a very logical refutation of this attitude. He says, “If you assume that mind one is perceived by mind two, then who perceives mind two? Then mind three; then who perceives mind three?” He says, “Then this will create confusion. It will be an infinite regress. Then you can go on, ad absurdum; and again, even if you say ‘the mind one thousand,’ the problem remains the same. Then you have to again assume a mind behind mind one thousand: one thousand and one – and this will go on and on.”

No, one has to understand something absolutely inside – behind which there is nothing. Otherwise, there is a confusion of memories, otherwise, a chaos. Body, mind, and the witnesser: the witnesser is absolute. But who perceives the witnesser? Who knows the witnesser? And then we come to one of the most important hypotheses of yoga.

Knowledge of its own nature through self-cognition is obtained when consciousness assumes that form in which it does not pass from place to place.

Yoga believes that the witness is a self-illuminating phenomenon. It is just like a light. You have a small candle in your room – the candle illuminates the room, the furniture, the walls, the painting on the wall. Who illuminates the candle? You don’t need another candle to find this candle; the candle is self-illuminating. It illuminates other things, and simultaneously it illuminates itself. Svabuddhisamvedanam: innermost consciousness is self-illuminating. It is of the nature of light. The sun illuminates everything in the solar system – at the same time it illuminates itself. The witnesser witnesses everything that goes on around in the five seeds and in the world, and at the same time it illuminates itself. This seems to be perfectly logical. Somewhere, we have to come to the rock bottom. Otherwise, we go on and on – and that will not help, and the problem remains the same.

Knowledge of its own nature through self-cognition is obtained when consciousness assumes that form in which it does not pass from place to place.

When your inner consciousness has come to a moment of no movement, when it has become deeply centered and rooted, when it is unwavering, when it has become a constant flame of awareness, then it illuminates itself.

When the mind is colored by the knower and the known, it is all apprehending.

The mind is just between you and the world. The mind is the bridge between you and the world, between the witnesser and the witnessed. The mind is a bridge, and if the mind is colored by things, and also by the witness, it becomes all-comprehending. It becomes a tremendous instrument of knowledge. But two types of coloring are needed; one: it should be colored by the things it sees, and, it should be colored by the witnesser. The witnesser should pour down its energy into the mind; then only can the mind know things.

For example: a scientist is working. He has dissected the body of a man and he is looking very minutely, as minutely as scientific instruments make available. He is searching for the soul, and he cannot find any soul, just matter, matter. At the most, he can find something belonging to the world of physics or to the world of chemistry, but nothing belonging to the world of consciousness. And he comes out of the lab, and he says, “There is no consciousness.” Now, he has missed one thing. Who was looking in the dead body? He has completely forgotten himself. The scientist is watching the object but is completely oblivious of his own being. The scientist is trying to find consciousness outside but has forgotten completely that the one who is trying is consciousness. The seeker is the sought. He has become too much focused on the object, and the subject is forgotten.

Science is too focused on the object, and so-called religions are too focused on the subject. But yoga says, “There is no need to become lopsided. Remember the world is there, and also remember that you are.” Let your remembrance be total and whole, of the object and the subject – both. When your mind is infused with your consciousness, and also infused with the objective world, there happens apprehension.

And Patanjali says, “When the mind is colored by the knower and the known, it is all apprehending.”

It can know all that can be known. It can know everything that can be known. Then nothing is hidden from that mind. A religious mind – let us call him an introvert – by and by, knows only his subjectivity and starts saying that the world is illusion, maya, a dream, made of the same stuff as dreams are. A scientist who is too focused on objects starts believing in the objective world and says that only the material exists; consciousness is just poetry, a talk of the dreamers: good, romantic, but not real. The scientist says that consciousness is illusory. The extrovert says that consciousness is illusory; the introvert says that the world is illusory.

But yoga is the supreme science. Patanjali says, “Both are real.” Reality has two sides to it: the outside and the inside. And remember, how can the inside happen, how can it exist without an outside? Can you conceive that only the inside exists and the outside is illusory? If the outside is illusory, the inside will become illusory automatically. If the inside of your house is real, and the outside of the house is unreal, where will you demarcate? Where does the reality stop and illusion start? And how can an outside which is illusory have a real inside? An unreal body will have an unreal mind; an unreal mind will have an unreal consciousness. A real consciousness needs a real mind; a real mind needs a real body; a real body needs a real world.

Yoga does not deny anything. Yoga is absolutely pragmatic, empirical. It is more scientific than science, and more religious than religions, because it makes the greater synthesis of the inner and the outer.

Though variegated by innumerable desires, the mind acts for another, for it acts in association.

The mind goes on working, but it is not working for itself. It has a managerial post; the master is hidden behind. It cooperates with the master. Now, this has to be deeply understood.

If the mind cooperates with the master, you are healthy and whole. If the mind goes astray, against the master, you are unhealthy and ill. If the servant follows the master like a shadow, everything is okay. If the master says, “Go to the left,” and the servant goes to the right, then something has gone wrong. If you want your body to run and the body says, “I cannot run,” then you are paralyzed. If you want to do something and the body and the mind say, “No,” or, they go on doing something which you don’t want to do, then you are in great confusion. This is how humanity is.

Yoga has this as the goal: that your mind should function according to your lord, the innermost soul. Your body should function according to the mind, and you should create a world around you which is in cooperation. When everything is in cooperation – the lower is always in cooperation with the higher, and the higher is in cooperation with the highest, and the highest is in cooperation with the utterly ultimate – then you have a life of harmony. Then you are a yogin. Then you become one, but not in the sense that only one exists: now you have become one in the sense of unison. You have become one in the sense of an orchestra – many instruments, but the music is one; many bodies, millions of objects, desires, ambitions, mood, ups and downs, failures and successes, a great variety, but everything in unison, in harmony. You have become an orchestra. Everything is cooperating with everything else, and everything finally is cooperating with the very center of your being.

That’s why in India we have called sannyasins swamis. “Swami” means: the lord. You become a swami only when you have attained to this harmony that Patanjali is talking about. Patanjali is not against anything whatsoever. He is in favor of harmony. He’s against discord. He is not against anything: he’s not against the body, he’s not an anti-body man; he’s not against the world, he’s not anti-life; he absorbs everything. And through that absorption he creates a higher synthesis. And the ultimate synthesis is when everything is in cooperation, when there is not even a single jarring note. […]

If you are in a harmony, you will not complain about the world. You will not complain about anything. The complaining mind is simply indicative that things are not in harmony inside. When everything is in harmony, then there is no complaint. Now, you go to your so-called saints: everybody is complaining – complaining of the world, complaining of desires, complaining of the body, complaining of this and that. Everybody lives in complaints; something is jarring. A perfect man is one who has no complaints. That man is a God-man who has accepted everything, absorbed everything and become a cosmos, is no more a chaos. […]

Patanjali says, “Accept everything, use it, be creative about it; don’t negate.” Negation is not his way but affirmation. That’s why Patanjali has worked so much on the body, on food, on yoga asanas, on pranayam. These are all efforts to create the harmony: right food for the body, right posture for the body; rhythmic breathing for the vital body. More prana, more vitality has to be absorbed. Ways and means have to be found so that you are not always lacking in energy, but overflowing.

With mind also, pratyahar; the mind is a bridge: you can go outside on the bridge, you can move on the same bridge and go inside. When you go outside, objects, desires, predominate [over] you. When you go inside, desirelessness, awareness, witnessing, predominate over you; but the bridge is the same. It has to be used; it is not to be thrown and broken. It has not to be destroyed because it is the same bridge by which you have come into the world, and by which you have to go back again into the inner nature, and so on and so forth.

Patanjali goes on using everything. His religion is not one of fear but of understanding. His religion is not for God and against the world. His religion is for God through the world because God and the world are not two. The world is God’s creation. The world is His creativity, His expression; the world is His poetry. If you are against the poetry, how can you be in favor of the poet? In condemning the poetry, you have already condemned the poet. Of course, poetry is not the goal; you should seek the poet also. But on the way you can enjoy the poetry; nothing is wrong in it.

A methodist minister was on a flight to America when the stewardess asked if he would like a drink from the bar. “At what height are we flying?” he asked. When told that it was thirty thousand feet, he replied, “I would rather not . . . too near headquarters.”

Fear – continuously, religious people are obsessed by fear. But fear cannot give you a grace, cannot give you dignity. Fear cripples, paralyses, corrupts. Because of fear religion has become almost a disease. It makes you abnormal. It does not make you healthy, it makes you more and more afraid to live: hell is there, and whatsoever you do it seems to be that you are doing something wrong. You love and it is wrong; you enjoy and it is wrong. Happiness has become associated with guilt. Only wrong people seem to be happy. The good people are always serious and never happy. If you want to go to heaven you have to be serious and unhappy and sad and miserable. You have to be austere. If you want to go to hell, be happy and dance and enjoy. But remember, Omar Khayyam says somewhere, “I am always worried about one thing: if all these unhappy people are going to heaven, what will they do there? They cannot dance, they cannot sing, they cannot drink, they cannot enjoy, they cannot love. The whole opportunity will be wasted on these foolish people. People who could enjoy are thrown into hell. In fact, they should be in heaven. It seems more logical.” Omar Khayyam says, “If you really want to go to heaven, live a heavenly life here, so that you are ready.”

Patanjali would like you to radiate with life, to throb with the unknown. He is not against anything. If you are in love he says, “Make your love a little more deep.” There are greater treasures waiting for you. These treasures are good; these trees, these flowers, are good. Then man, woman, they are good and beautiful, because somehow, howsoever far away, God has come to you through them. Maybe there are many screens. When you meet a man or a woman, there are many screens and sheets, but still the light is of God. It may be passing through many barriers, it may be distorted, but still, the light is of God.

Patanjali says, “Don’t be against this world. Rather, search through this world. Find a way so that you can come to the original source of light, the pure, the virgin light.”

There are people who live only for food, and there are people who go against food – both are wrong. Jesus says, “Man cannot live by bread alone” – true, perfectly true – but can man live without bread? That has to be remembered. Man cannot live by bread alone, right; but man also cannot live without bread. […]

One has to be very, very alert, otherwise one can move to opposite polarities very easily. Mind is an extremist. This is my observation: people who have lived only for food, when they get frustrated with their life-style, start fasting. Immediately, they move to the other extreme. I have never come across a faster, a fanatic about fasting, who has not previously been a fanatic about food. They are the same people. People who are too much in sexuality start becoming celibate. People who are very miserly start renouncing everything. This is how the mind moves from one extreme to another.

Patanjali would like you to balance your life, to bring an equilibrium. Just in the middle somewhere, where you are not mad after food and you are not mad against food, where you are not mad after women or men and you are not mad against them; you are simply balanced, a tranquility.

A psychiatrist says that we are a little strange in our behavior. We all are a little strange in our behavior. Another way of saying this is: I am original, you are eccentric, he is nuts. When you do the same thing you think you are original, when your friend is doing the same thing you think he is eccentric, and when your enemy is doing the same thing you think he is nuts. Remember, this egoistic way of thinking will destroy all the opportunities for growth. Be very objective about yourself. There is a strain of insanity in everybody because humanity has been insane for millennia. There is a strain of neurosis in everybody because civilization has not yet come to a point where it can allow the full functioning of the human being. It has been repressive. So watch: if you are neurotic, you will eat too much. You can move to the other extreme – you can stop eating completely – but your neurosis remains the same. Now, the neurosis is against food. And don’t think that you are doing great spiritual work, very original work. […]

These people are neurotic. You can find them all over India: in monasteries, in ashrams. Out of a hundred people you will find ninety-five neurotic. And you cannot call them mad because they are doing yoga asanas, fasting, prayer, this and that. But their neurosis can be seen immediately, what I call neurosis. Any extremism is neurotic. To be balanced is to be healthy; to be unbalanced is to be neurotic. Wherever you find any unbalance within yourself or in somebody else, beware.

Otherwise, you will miss the ultimate unison. Lopsided, unbalanced, you cannot create the orchestra that Patanjali is trying to give you a glimpse of.

The modifications of the mind are always known by its lord, due to the constancy of the purusa, pure consciousness.

Sada jnatas citta-vritayas tat-prabhu purusayaparinamitvat.

Tat prabhu, the lord has to be found. He’s hiding in you; you have to seek him. Whatsoever you are, he’s present. Whatsoever you do, he’s the doer. Whatsoever you see, he’s the seer. Even whatsoever you desire, it is he who has desired it. Layer upon layer, like an onion, you have to peel yourself. But peel yourself not in a rage, but in love. Peel yourself very cautiously, carefully, because it is God you are peeling. Peel very prayerfully. Don’t become a masochist. Don’t start creating suffering for yourself. Don’t enjoy suffering. If you start enjoying suffering and you become a masochist, you are going on a suicidal trip. You will destroy yourself. One has to be very, very cautious, careful and creative. You are moving on holy ground.

When Moses reached to the top of the mountain where he encountered God, what did he see? He saw in a bush, a flame, a fire, and he heard a voice: “Leave your shoes off because it is holy ground you are walking on.” But wherever you are walking, you are walking on holy ground. When you touch your body, you are touching something holy. When you eat something, you are eating something holy; annambrahma: food is God. When you love somebody, you are loving the divine because it is He all around, in millions of forms. It is He who is expressing.

Keep this always in mind so that no neurosis can take possession of you. Remain balanced and tranquil, just walk the path in the middle, and you will never be lost, you will never be unbalanced, lopsided.

Yoga is balance. Yoga has to be a balance because it is going to be the path to the ultimate unity, the ultimate harmony of all that is.

-Osho

From Yoga the Supreme Science, Discourse #7; Yoga: The Science of the Soul, V.10 (previously titled Yoga: The Alpha and the Omega V. 10).

Copyright © OSHO International Foundation

This discourse is the Listening Meditation in the nineteenth program of the module, Osho Yoga and the Discipline of Transformation, one of several modules in A Course in Witnessing.

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.

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