Witnessing where Mindfulness and Self-Inquiry Meet

At first glance, one might think that there is a significant difference between Ramana’s Self-Inquiry and Osho’s Witnessing Meditation. But in my own experience I have found that not to be the case. What I discovered is that Osho’s Watching/Witnessing Meditation incorporates Ramana’s enquiry but also extends out to reach a much larger field of practitioners. How so? you might ask. Okay, here goes.

Ramana Maharshi’s method of self-inquiry is often described as such:
A thought appears.
The question is asked, “To whom does the thought appear?”
The answer, “Me,” arises.
And then the question, “Who is this me? Or who am I?” is enquired into.

Osho has described the following three steps for his watching meditation:
We begin with watching the activities of the body.

With this awareness we then turn inwards to watch the movement of mind, thought.

Even deeper still and ever more subtle we then begin to watch the feelings of the heart.

So where do these seemingly very different approaches to realizing the self overlap, and how are they related?

Ramana begins with “a thought appears.” So, for a thought to appear it presumes that one is watching the movement of mind. For many of us, this is not as easy as one might, excuse the pun, think.

And this is where Osho extends the field. He instructs us to begin with watching the activities of the body. Meaning: we watch, we bring awareness to daily activities, eating, walking, talking, showering, etc. By this bringing awareness we are reclaiming our consciousness. We are increasing our own capacity of being aware. We are learning the art of watching. We are beginning to be more conscious.

His next step is to take this awareness and begin to watch the movement of mind. First, we watch our continual getting lost into thought and then remembering which brings us momentarily out of the stream. This process takes time because we have to gradually increase our capacity to watch all that appears in consciousness. Soon we are able to see thought as something separate from our watching and slowly disidentification begins, but still we are drawn out into the fray again and again. But then there is one more instruction that Osho adds and that is to watch without grasping or rejecting, to watch without judging the thoughts, to watch without analyzing the thought stream. Through this quality of watching, we begin to see that it is “the grasping and rejecting, the judging and analyzing” that is keeping us tethered to the stream of thought. It is how we remain identified with thought. A thought appears and we grab onto it because we like it and go for a ride. Or a thought appears that we find unpleasant and we push it down not to be looked at. Or we judge our getting lost into a thought or even analyze why we are attracted to such a thought.

But when we discover watching without grasping or rejecting, without judging or analyzing we are able to disengage, disidentify with thought and remain the watcher. And it is the same process for feelings, moods, emotions.

It is here that Ramana’s second step comes in. He says, we ask, “To whom does the thought appear?” We are not able to ask this as long as we are glued together with the stream of thought, as long as we are grasping, judging, etc. With the quality of watching that Osho has instructed there is space for the inquiry, “To whom does the thought appear?” Here we are in the double-pointed arrow that Osho speaks about. The arrow pointing back is the enquiry – to whom does that thought appear.

Osho instructs us to remain in this watching with the double-pointed arrow, watching without judging, analzying … and slowly, slowly the content that the outward-pointing arrow is pointing to begins to disappear. It no longer has the fuel to continue because it was being supplied by the identification, by the engagement.

And it is here that Ramana’s inquiry of “who am I” is relevant. Here in this disengaged awareness, this witnessing without an object, one’s own true nature as the witnessing consciousness is revealed. And it is indeed who we are.

I have been known to say that Osho’s witnessing meditation is the bee’s knees of meditation because it incorporates both mindfulness and self-enquiry. And so it is, and so it does.

A big shout to those who have persisted in their questions requiring me to articulate ever more clearly this insight.

-purushottama

See all 0f Prem’s notes.

The Double-Pointed Arrow of Watchingness

Osho speaks often about watching the mind without grasping or rejecting, without judging, without analyzing. And he also speaks about watching with a double-pointed arrow of awareness.

After experimenting with these two viewpoints, it has been my discovery that they are two ways of describing the exact same phenomenon. When we manage to watch without grasping or rejecting, without judging, without analyzing we find ourselves watching with a double-pointed awareness. If we find ourselves in watching with the double-pointed arrow we discover that we are indeed watching without grasping or rejecting, etc., and we see that it is the grasping, the rejecting, the judging, the analyzing that is preventing us from having the double-pointed awareness

So whichever viewpoint we are more suited to, they both will be describing the same quality of watchingness. The key is watching without being drawn out (grasping, rejecting …) into the fray. This watching without being drawn out creates the second arrow of awareness.

-purushottama

See all 0f Prem’s notes.

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

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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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

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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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

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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

See all 0f Prem’s notes.

 

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

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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.