Seedless Samadhi – Osho

In the state of nirvichara samadhi, an object is experienced in its full perspective, because in this state knowledge is gained direct, without the use of the senses.

The perception gained in nirvichara samadhi transcends all normal perceptions both in extent and intensity.

When this controlling of all other controls is transcended, the seedless samadhi is attained, and with it, freedom from life and death.

-Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras

Knowledge is indirect, knowing is direct. Knowledge is through many mediums; it is not reliable. Knowing is immediate, without any medium. Only knowing can be reliable.

This distinction has to be remembered. Knowledge is like a messenger comes and tells something to you: the messenger may have misunderstood the message; the messenger may have added something of his own into the message; the messenger may have dropped something from the message; the messenger may have forgotten something from the message; the messenger may have added his own interpretations into it, or the messenger may be simply cunning and deceptive. And you have to rely on the messenger. You don’t have any direct approach to the source of the message – this is knowledge.

Knowledge is not reliable, and not only one messenger is involved in knowledge, but four. Man is behind many closed doors, imprisoned. First knowledge comes to the senses; then the senses carry it through the nervous system, it reaches to the brain, and then the brain delivers it to the mind, and then the mind delivers it to you, to the consciousness. It is a vast process, and you don’t have any direct approach to the source of knowledge. […]

This is how the mechanism of knowledge functions. It is very difficult in this process to check anywhere unless you can come out of yourself. Mind cannot do that because the mind cannot exist outside the body. It has to depend on the brain; it is rooted in the brain. The brain cannot do it because the brain is rooted in the whole nervous system; it cannot come out. Only at one point the possibility exists to check, and that is at consciousness.

Consciousness is not rooted in the body; the body is just an abode. As you come out of your house and go in, consciousness can come out of the house and go in. Only consciousness can come out of this whole mechanism and look at things, what is happening.

In nirvichara samadhi this happens – thoughts cease. The connection between the mind and the consciousness is cut, because thought is the connection. Without thought you don’t have any mind, and when you don’t have any mind the connection with the brain is broken. And when you don’t have any mind and the connection with the brain is broken, the connection with the nervous system is broken. Your consciousness now can float out and in; all doors are open. In nirvichara samadhi, when thoughts cease, consciousness is free to move and float. It becomes like a cloud without any roots, without any home. It becomes free of the mechanism you have lived with. It can come out; it can go in; there is no hindrance on its path.

Now direct knowledge is possible. Direct knowledge is knowing. Now you can see immediately, without any messengers between you and the source of knowledge. It is a tremendous phenomenon when your consciousness comes out and looks at a flower. You cannot imagine because it is not part of imagination; you cannot believe what happens! When the consciousness can look direct to the flower, for the first time the flower is known, and not only the flower, through the flower the whole existence. In a small pebble, the all is hidden; in a small leaf dancing in the wind, the whole dances. In a small flower by the side of the road, the whole has a smile.

When you come out of your prison of senses, nervous system, brain, mind, layers and layers of walls, suddenly individuals disappear. A vast energy in millions of forms . . . and every form indicating towards the formless, and every form melting and merging into other forms – a vast ocean of formless beauty, truth, goodness. Hindus call it sat-chit-ananda: that which is, that which is beautiful, that which is good, that which is blissful. This is direct perception, aprokshanubhuti, immediate knowing.

Otherwise, all your knowing is indirect, depends on messengers which are not very reliable – cannot be. Their very nature is unreliable. Why? Your hand touches something; now the hand is an unconscious thing. From the very beginning an unconscious part of you takes the message. Intelligence is hidden behind, and on the door an idiot is sitting, and the idiot takes the message. The idiot is the receptionist. The hand is not conscious, and the hand touches something and receives the message. Now through the nerves the message travels. Nerves are not conscious; they don’t have any intelligence – so from one idiot to another now the message is given. From the first idiot to the second much must have changed.

In the first place, the idiot cannot be a hundred percent true because he cannot understand; understanding is not there. The hand is dull, very dull. It carries the work in a mechanical way, robot-like. The message is delivered; much has changed already. The nerves take it to the brain and the brain decodes it. And the brain is also not very much intelligent, because the brain is part of the body, it is the other end of the hand.

If you know something of physiology, you must be knowing that the right hand is connected to the left hemisphere of the brain and the left hand to the right hemisphere of the brain. Your two hands are two receiving ends of the brain. They function for the brain; they are extended brain. Your right hand carries the message to the left brain, your left hand to the right brain. Brain is also not alert; brain is just like a computer – something is fed to it, it decodes, it is a mechanism. Sooner or later we will be able to make plastic brains, because they will be cheap, and they will endure more, and they will create less trouble. And they can be operated very easily, and the parts can be changed: you can even have spare parts always with you.

Brain is a mechanism, and by the discovery of computers it has become perfectly clear that brain is a mechanism; it has no intelligence in it. Then the brain accumulates the whole information, decodes it, gives the message to the mind. Your mind has a little intelligence; very little of that too . . . because your mind is not alert. Your hand is mechanical; your brain is mechanical; your nervous system mechanical, and your mind is asleep, as if drunk. So, from one idiot to another idiot then finally to a drunkard the message reaches!

Gurdjieff used to give vast, big dinners for his disciples, and the first toast was always for the idiots. These are the idiots.

And then this drunkard, half asleep, half awake, interprets it according to the past, because there is no other way. According to the past the mind interprets the present. Everything is going wrong because the present is always new and the mind is always old. But there is no other way; the mind cannot do anything else. It has accumulated much knowledge in the past through these same idiots, as unreliable as anything, and that past is brought to the present, and the present is understood through the past. Everything goes wrong. It is almost impossible to know anything through this process.

That’s why Hindus call the whole world that is known through this process maya, illusion, dreamlike; it is. You have not known the reality yet. These four messengers won’t allow you, and you don’t know how to avoid these messengers or how to come out into the open. The situation is as if you are closed in a dark cell, and just through the keyhole you are looking out, and the keyhole is not passive, the keyhole is active – it interprets, it says, “No, you are wrong; this is not so, this is like this.” Your hand interprets, your nervous system interprets, your brain interprets, and finally the drunkard interprets. And that interpretation is given to you and you live through that interpretation. This is the state of the ignorant mind, the state of the unenlightened.

In nirvichara samadhi, this whole state is shattered. You suddenly come out of this whole mechanism. You don’t rely on it; you simply drop the whole mechanism. You come directly to the source of knowledge; you look immediately to the flower.

This is possible. This is possible only in the highest state of meditation, nirvichara, when thoughts cease. Thought is the link. When thoughts cease, the whole mechanism ceases, and you are separate. Suddenly you are no more imprisoned. You are not looking through the keyhole. You have come out into the world under the sky, open. You look at things as they are, and you will see that things don’t exist; they were your interpretations. Only beings exist; there are no things in the world. Even a rock is a being, howsoever fast asleep, snoring; a rock is a being because the ultimate source is a being. All its parts are beings, souls. A tree is a being, a bird is a being, a rock is a being. Suddenly, the world of things disappears. “Thing” is the interpretation of these idiots and the drunkard mind. Because of this process everything becomes dull. Because of this process only the surface is touched. Because of this process you miss the reality; you live in a dream.

You can create a dream in this way. Just try someday: your wife is sleeping, or your husband, or your child – just rub a cube of ice on the feet of the sleeping person. Do it just a little, not too much, otherwise he will be awakened – just a little and put it away. Immediately you will see the eyes under the lids are moving fast, what psychologists call REM, rapid eye movement. When the eyes are moving rapidly, a dream has started. Because the person is seeing something, that’s why the eyes are moving so fast. Then just in the middle of the dream, you wake the person and ask what he saw. Either he would have seen that he is passing through a river which is very cold, ice cold, or he is walking on snow, or he has reached to the Gourishankar: something like this he will dream. You created a dream because you deceived the first idiot, you touched the feet [with] ice. Immediately the idiot started working, the second idiot was given the message, the third idiot decoded; the fourth, the drunkard – which is also asleep now – immediately started a dream.

You can create dreams; you create many times, unknowingly. Your both hands are on your chest and you are lying on your bed, and you feel that somebody is sitting on your chest, a monster. And when you open your eyes, nobody is there – your own hands, or a pillow.

The same is happening while you are awake. It makes no difference because the whole mechanism is the same; whether the eyes are opened or closed doesn’t make much difference, because there can be no check on the process. Even if you want to check, you will have to go through the whole process itself. How can you check unless you can come out and see what is happening?

This possibility is the whole world of spirituality: that the final consciousness can come out. Drop the whole mechanism, look at the thing directly: “things” disappear. That’s why Hindus say this world is not real, and for the real knower it disappears. Not that rocks will not be there and trees will not be there, they will be there even more so, but they will be no more trees, no more rocks; they will be beings. Your mind turns beings into things: your wife is a thing to be used; your husband is a thing to be possessed; your servant is a thing to be exploited; your boss is a thing to be deceived. The mind, because of this whole idiotic process, turns every being into a thing. When you come out of the mind and have a look under the open sky, suddenly there is nothing at all. “Thingness” disappears.

When thoughts drop, the second thing to drop is the thing. Suddenly the whole world is full of beings, beautiful beings, supreme beings, because they all participate into the ultimate being of God. Definitions disappear – you cannot separate. All separation existed because of the mechanism. Suddenly you see a tree moving out of the earth, not separate, meeting with the sky, not separate, everything joined together; everybody is a member of everybody else. The whole world becomes a net of consciousness, millions and millions of consciousnesses, luminous, kindled from within, every house lighted. Bodies disappear because bodies belong to the world of things. Forms are there but they are no more material; they are forms of moving, dynamic energy, and they go on changing. That is what is happening.

You were a child, now you are young, now you are old. What is happening? – you don’t have a fixed form. The form is continuously flowing and changing. A child is becoming a young man, the young man is becoming old, the old is moving into death.

Then you suddenly see: birth is not birth, death is not death. There are changing forms, and the formless remains the same. You can see that luminous formlessness always remaining the same, moving amidst millions of forms, changing, yet not changing; moving, yet not moving; becoming everything else and yet remaining the same. And that’s the beauty and the mystery; then life is one – a vast ocean of life. Then you don’t see alive beings and dead beings, no, because death doesn’t exist. It is because of the mechanism, a wrong interpretation.

Neither exists birth nor death. That which exists is birthless and deathless, eternal. But this is how it looks when you come out of the mind.

Now try to penetrate the sutras of Patanjali.

In the state of nirvichara samadhi, an object is experienced in its full perspective, because in this state knowledge is gained direct, without the use of the senses.

When senses are not used, when the keyhole is not used to look at the sky – because the keyhole will give its own frame to the sky and destroy everything –the sky will not be bigger than the keyhole, cannot be. How can your perspective be bigger than your eyes? How can your touch be bigger than your hands, and how can a sound be deeper than your ears? – impossible! The eyes, ears, nose are keyholes: through them you are looking at reality. And suddenly you jump out of yourself, in nirvichara; for the first time the vastness, the infinity is known. Now the full perspective is attained. The beginning is not there, the end is not there. There are no boundaries in existence. It is unbounded; there are no limitations. All limitations belong to your senses; they were given by the senses. Existence itself is infinite; in all directions you go on and on and on. There is no end to it.

When the full perspective is attained, then for the first time the subtlest ego that was still clinging to you disappears. Because the existence is so vast – how can you cling to a small puny ego? […]

Under the vast sky your ego becomes simply irrelevant. It drops on its own accord. Even to drop it looks foolish; it is not even worth that. When the perspective is full, you disappear: this is the point to be understood. You are because the perspective is narrow. The narrower the perspective, the bigger the ego; the blinder the person, the bigger the ego . . . No perspective, there exists perfect ego. When the perspective grows, ego gets smaller and smaller. When the perspective is perfect, ego simply is not found.

This is my whole effort here – to make the perspective so full that the ego disappears. That’s why from many directions I go on hitting the wall of your mind, so at least a few more keyholes in the beginning can be made. Through Buddha a new keyhole opens, through Patanjali another, through Tilopa still another. That is what I am doing. I don’t want you to become a follower of Buddha, Tilopa or Patanjali, no, because a follower can never have a bigger perspective – his doctrine is his keyhole.

Talking about so many standpoints, what I am trying to do? – I am trying to do only this: to give you a bigger perspective. Many keyholes in the walls and you can look at the east and you can look at the west, you can look at the south and you can look at the north; and looking at the east you don’t say, “This is the only direction,” you know other directions are there. Looking at the east, you don’t say that “This is the only true doctrine,” because then the perspective becomes narrow. I am talking about so many doctrines so that you can be freed of all directions and all doctrines.

Freedom comes through understanding. The more you understand, the more you become free. And by and by, when you come to know that through so many holes your old keyhole has just become out of date, doesn’t mean much, then an urge arises in you: what will happen if you break down all these walls and just simply run out? Even a single new hole and the whole perspective changes, and you come to know things which you have never known, not even imagined, not even dreamed. What will happen when all the walls disappear, and you are directly face to face with reality under the open sky?

And when I say under the open sky, remember that the sky is not a thing, it is a nothingness. It is everywhere, but you cannot find it anywhere; it is a nothingness. It is simply a vastness. So I never say God is vast – God is vastness. Existence is not vast, because even a vast existence will have limitations. Howsoever vast, somewhere the boundary must be there. Existence is vastness.

That is the Hindu conception of brahma. Brahma means: that which goes on expanding. The very word brahma means that which goes on expanding. The expanse is brahma. In English there is no word; you cannot call brahma God because God is very limited, a concept. Brahma is not God. That’s why in India we don’t have a conception of one God, but many gods. Gods are many; brahma is one. And by brahma . . . the very word simply means the vastness, the expanse; you cannot exhaust it.

That is the meaning when I say under the sky, the open sky: with no walls around it, no doctrines, no senses, no thoughts, no mind; you are simply out of the mechanism, for the first time naked, face to face with reality. Then [in] its full perspective . . . an object is experienced in its full perspective, and to experience an object in its full perspective means that the object simply disappears and becomes the vastness. It may be a focusing of energy.

It is just like, go and look at a well. A quantity of water is there in the well; if you draw the water out, more water is supplied through the hidden springs. You don’t see the springs. You go on taking the water out and new water is continuously flowing. The well is just a hole to the ocean. Many hidden springs are bringing water from all around. If you enter into the well, the well is nothing; really those springs are the things, the real things. The well is not a storage, because in a storage there are no springs. A storage is dead; a well is alive. A storage is a thing; a well is a person. Move now with the springs, go deeper into the springs, and finally you will reach to the ocean. And if you move through all the springs, then from all directions the ocean is flowing in the well: it is all one.

If you look at an object with full perspective, the object is joined from every part of it with infinity; it cannot exist without that. No object exists independently. There is no individuality. Individuality is just an interpretation. Everywhere the whole exists. If you make the part the whole, you are misguided. That is the standpoint of ignorance – then you make the part as if it is the whole. When you look at the part and the whole appears in it, this is the standpoint of an awakened consciousness.

An object is experienced in its full perspective, because in this state knowledge is gained direct, without the use of the senses.

No mediums are used; then many new things suddenly become possible. These new things are the siddhis, the powers. When you have no dependence on the senses, telepathy becomes simply possible. It is because of the senses telepathy is not possible. Clairvoyance becomes simply possible. It is because of the senses clairvoyance is not possible. Miracles become ordinary things. You can read anybody’s thought; there is no need for him to say, no need for him to communicate it. With full perspective, everything becomes revealed, all the veils are taken up. Now there are no more veils; the whole reality is before you. Materialization of things becomes possible. Just whatsoever you want to do, immediately it happens; action is not needed. Action was needed because of the body.

That’s what Lao Tzu means when he says, “The sage lives in inactivity and everything happens.” Millions of things happen around a sage without his doing anything. He looks at you and suddenly there is a transformation – suddenly you are no longer the body; while he looks you have become a consciousness.

Of course this cannot be permanent with you, because when his look has moved you are again the body. Just by being near him you become citizens of some unknown world. You have a taste of the unknown through him because he is now the vast sky himself. Not doing anything, many things happen. But when these things become possible . . . the desires of the sage have disappeared before these things become possible, so a sage never does any miracle. And those who do miracles are not sages, because the doer is not there, and their miracles cannot be miracles; they are ordinary magical tricks. They are fooling people and deceiving them.

A miracle happens – cannot be done. It happens near the sage. Not that he produces Swiss-made watches . . . […]

Miracles happen only when nirvichara samadhi is attained and you come out of your body, but they are never done. That is the basic quality of a miracle – it is never done, it happens, and when it happens, it never produces Swiss-made watches. To attain to nirvichara samadhi and then to produce Swiss-made watches does not make sense! It transforms beings; it helps others to attain to the highest.

Through a sage you can become more watchful, but you will not get a Swiss-made watch! Watchfulness happens; he makes you more aware, alert. He does not give you time, he gives you timelessness. But these things happen, nobody does them, because the door is gone. Only then the nirvichara samadhi is possible. With the doer, how can you cease thinking? – the doer is the thinker. In fact, before you do anything you have to think; the thinker comes first, the doer follows. When the thinker and the doer both are gone and only a witnessing, only a consciousness has remained, then many things simply become possible, they happen.

When Buddha moves, many things happen, but they are not so visible. Only few people will be able to understand what is happening because they belong to a very unknown world. You don’t have any language for it, no concepts for it, and you cannot see it unless it happens to you.

. . . In this state knowledge is gained direct, without the use of the senses.

The mind has gone, and with the mind all the assistants, all the idiots. They are not functioning, they don’t distract you, they don’t disturb your perception, they don’t create any types of hindrances, they don’t project, they don’t interpret. That whole thing is no more there. Simply consciousness is there before reality. And when this happens, consciousness faces consciousness, because there is no matter.

The most beautiful metaphor that I have come across is a mirror facing another mirror. What will happen when a mirror faces another mirror? One mirror mirrors another mirror; the other mirrors this mirror, and there is nothing in the mirror, only mirroring reflected millions of times into each other. The whole world becomes millions of mirrors – and you are also a mirror – and all mirrors empty, because nothing else is there to reflect, not even the frame of the mirror. There is just the mirror – two mirrors facing each other. That is the most graceful moment, the most blissful; grace descends, flowers shower, the whole celebrates that one more has attained, one more traveler has reached home.

The perception gained in nirvichara samadhi transcends all normal perceptions, both in extent and intensity.

These two words are very meaningful: “extent” and “intensity.” When you see the world through the senses, brain and the mind, the world is very dull. It has no luminosity in it, dusty, and soon it becomes boring, and one feels fed up: the same trees, the same people, the same actions – everything just a rut. It is not so.

Sometimes on LSD, or marijuana or hashish, suddenly the tree becomes more green. You have never known it, that the tree was so green, or the rose was so rosy. […]

The whole world becomes beautiful. But this is nothing, absolutely nothing. If you can attain to a single moment of nirvichara, then you will be able to know. The world becomes millions of times more beautiful than any LSD can give you a glimpse. And it is not because you are hitting the mules on the head, it is simply you are no more inside the mules, you have come out, you have dropped the idiots. You face reality with your total nudity.

With no thoughts, you are nude. With no thoughts who are you? – a Hindu, a Mohammedan, a Christian, a communist? Who are you without thoughts? – a man, a woman? Who are you without thoughts? – religious, irreligious? You are nobody without thoughts. All clothes have dropped. You are simply a nudity, a purity, an emptiness. Then the perception is clear, and with that clarity comes extent and intensity. Now you can look at the vast expanse of existence. Now there is no barrier to your perception; your eyes have become infinite.

And intensity: you can look into any event, any person, because things are no more there. Even flowers are persons now, and trees are friends, and rocks sleeping souls. Now intensity happens; you can look through and through. When you can look through and through to a flower, then you will be able to understand what mystics have been saying, and poets.

Tennyson says that “If I can understand a flower, a small flower in its totality, I would have understood all.” Right, absolutely right! If you can understand the part, you will understand the whole, because the part is the whole. And when you try to understand the part, by and by, unknowingly, you will have moved to the whole, because the part is organic to the whole. […]

Intensity becomes so much that you look at a pebble, and through the pebble roads are moving into the whole, and through the pebble you can enter into the highest of mysteries. Everywhere is a door; and you knock, and everywhere you are accepted, welcome. From wherever you enter, you enter into the infinity because all the doors are of the whole. Individuals may be there like doors. Love a person and you enter infinity. Look at a flower and the temple has opened. Lie down on the sand, and every particle of sand is as vast as the whole. This is the higher mathematics of religion.

Ordinary mathematics says the part can never be the whole. This is one of the maxims of ordinary mathematics that start in the universities: the part can never be the whole, and the part is always smaller than the whole, and the part can never be bigger than the whole. These are simple maxims of mathematics, and everybody will agree this is so.

But then there is a higher mathematics. When you have come out of the senses – the world of higher mathematics, and these are the maxims: the part is always the whole; the part is never, never smaller than the whole, and-the absurdity of absurdities – sometimes the part is bigger than the whole.

Now I cannot explain it to you. Nobody can explain, but these are the maxims. Once you are out of your prison you will see that this is how things are. A pebble is part, a very small part, but if you look at it with a thoughtless mind, with simple consciousness, direct, suddenly the pebble becomes the whole – because only one exists. Because no part is in fact a part, or separate: the part depends on the whole, the whole depends on the part. It is not only that when the sun rises, flowers open; the other way is also true – when the flowers open, the sun rises. If there were no flowers, for whom will the sun rise? It is not only that the sun rises, the birds sing; the other way is as true as this-because the birds sing, the sun rises. Otherwise, for whom . . .? Everything is interdependent; everything is related to everything else; everything is intertwined with everything else. Even if a leaf disappears, the whole will miss it; the whole will not be the whole then.

In one of his prayers, Meister Eckhart has said . . . and this is one of the rarest men that Christianity has produced. In fact, he looks a stranger in the world of Christians. He should have been born in Japan as a Zen Master, his insight is so clear, so deep, so beyond dogma.

He says in one of his prayers, “Yes, I depend on you, God, but you also depend on me. If I were not here, who will worship and who will pray? and you would have missed me.” And he is true: it is not out of any ego; it is a simple fact. I know God must have nodded at that moment, “You are true, Eckhart, because if you were not there, I would not have been here.”

The worshipper and the worshipped exist together; the lover and the beloved exist together. One cannot exist without the other, and this is the mystery of existence: everything exists together. This togetherness is God. God is not a person; this very togetherness of all, is God.

The perception gained in nirvichara samadhi transcends all normal perceptions both in extent and intensity.

From everywhere vastness opens, and from everywhere, the depth . . . Look into a flower, and there is an abyss. You can fall into a flower and disappear. […]

It cannot happen, that I know; but in nirvichara it happens. In a flower is abyss. Because of your intensity, you look into the flower and there is the depth, and you can fall into a flower and disappear forever. You look at a beautiful face with nirvichara and there is abyss in beauty, and you can be forever and forever lost; you can fall into it. Everything becomes a door, everything! With your intensity of look, all the doors are open for you.

When this controlling of all controls is transcended, the seedless samadhi is attained, and with it, freedom from life and death.

This is where all the paths culminate, all the Buddhas meet: Tantra and Yoga, Zen and Hassid, Sufi and Baul – all the paths. Paths may be different – they are – but now this comes, the peak; here paths disappear. When this controlling of all controls is transcended . . . because Patanjali says that it is still a controlled state. Thoughts have disappeared: you can perceive now the existence, but still the perceiver and the perception, the object and the subject . . . With the body, the knowledge was indirect. Now it is direct, but still the knower is different from the known. The last barrier exists, the division. When even this is dropped, when this control is transcended, and the painter disappears in the painting and the lover disappears in the love, object and subject disappear. There is no knower and no known.

When this controlling of all controls is transcended . . .

This is the last control, the nirvichara samadhi, samadhi where thoughts have ceased. This is the last control. Still you are, not as an ego, but as a self. Still you are separate from the known – just a very transparent veil, but it is there – and if you cling to this you will be born, because the division has not been transcended; you have not attained to non-duality yet. The seed of duality is still there, and that seed will sprout into new lives and the wheel of life and death will go on moving.

When this controlling of all other controls is transcended, the seedless samadhi is attained – then you attain nirvichara samadhi, seedless – and with it, freedom from life and death.

Then the wheel stops for you. Then there is no time, no space. Life and death have both disappeared like a dream. How to transcend this last control? – it is the most difficult. To attain to nirvichara is very arduous, but nothing compared to the dropping of the last control, because it is very subtle. How to do it? “How” is not relevant at that stage. One has simply to live, watch, enjoy, be loose and natural. This is where Tilopa becomes meaningful.

Because these people like Tilopa are Zen Masters they talk about the goal: loose and natural one lives, doing nothing, doing nothing to transcend the control. Because if you do something, that will again be a control. Your doing will be undoing. Loose and natural – that is the point where the tenth picture of the ten ox herding series becomes meaningful: back again into the world, and not only back again into the world . . . carrying a bottle of wine. Enjoying, celebrating, being ordinary – that is the meaning. Nothing can be done now. All that could be done you have done. Now you simply become loose and natural and forget everything about yoga, control, sadhana, seeking, search. Forget everything about it, because now, if you do something, then the control will continue, and with control there is no freedom. You have to wait, just being loose and natural. […]

This is the state where Zenerin says, “Sitting quietly, sitting silently, doing nothing, spring comes, and the grass grows by itself.” Beyond this, words cannot explain. One has to reach to nirvichara and then wait for the seedless samadhi. It comes on its own, just like the grass grows by itself. Then the last control is transcended, and there is no one who transcends it. It is simply transcended. There is no one who transcends it, because if someone is there to transcend it, again the control is there. So you cannot do anything about it. That’s why Patanjali simply ends: it is samadhi both.

Here ends the chapter on samadhis – nothing more to say. He doesn’t say anything how to do it. There is no how to it. This is the point where Krishnamurti gets very angry, when people ask, “How?” There is no point, no method, no technique, because if any technique is possible here, then the control will remain. The control is transcended, but there is no one who transcends. Remaining loose and natural, chopping wood and carrying water, sitting silently, the spring comes, the grass grows by itself.

So you don’t bother about seedless samadhi. You simply think of nirvichara samadhi, samadhi where thoughts cease. Up to there, search continues. Beyond that is the land of no-search. When you have become nirvichara, then, then only you will understand now what to do. All that could be done you have done.

The last barrier is there. That last barrier is created by your doing. The last barrier is created; it is very transparent. It is as if you are sitting behind a glass wall, very beautiful and pure glass, and you can see everything as clearly as without the wall, but the wall is there, and if you try to cross it you will be hit hard and thrown back.

So nirvichara samadhi is not the last thing, it is the last but one. And that “last but one” is the goal. Beyond that, read Zenerin, Tilopa, Lin Chi; sit silently and let the grass grow by itself. Beyond that you can live in the market, because the market is as beautiful as the monastery. Beyond that you can do whatsoever you feel like doing – you can do your own thing – but not before that. You can relax; the search is over. In that relaxation comes the moment of inner tuning with the cosmos, and the wall disappears. Because it is created by your doing; when you don’t do, it disappears. It is fed by your doing. When you don’t do, it disappears, and when the doing has disappeared and you have transcended all control, then there is no life and no death, because life is of the doer, death is of the doer.

Now you are no more; you have dissolved. You have dissolved like a piece of salt thrown into the ocean dissolves, and you cannot find where it has gone. Can you find a piece of salt which has dissolved into the ocean? It has become one with the ocean. You can taste the ocean, but you cannot find the piece.

That’s why, when again and again people ask Buddha, “What will happen when a Buddha dies? What happens when a Buddha dies?” – Buddha remains silent; he never answers about it. It was a very persistent question “What happens to a Buddha?” Buddha remains silent because Buddha appears to be to you – for himself, he is no more. Inside, he is no more. Inside, outside have become one; the part and the whole has become one; the devotee and the God have become one; the lover is dissolved into the beloved.

Then what remains? – love remains: the lover no more, the beloved no more, the knower no more, the known no more – knowing remains. Simple consciousness remains, with no center to it, vast as existence, deep as existence, mysterious as existence. But nothing can be done.

When you come to this point someday – if you seek hard you will come; if you seek hard you will come to nirvichara samadhi – then don’t carry the old habit of doing, then don’t carry the old pattern of doing, then don’t ask “How?” Then simply be loose and natural and let things be. Accept whatsoever happens; celebrate whatsoever happens. Chop wood, carry water, sit silently and let the grass grow.

-Osho

From The Mystery Beyond Mind, Yoga: The Science of the Soul, V.3, Discourse #9 (previously titled Yoga: The Alpha and the Omega, V.3).

Copyright © OSHO International Foundation

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

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

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

The Thought of No-Thought – Osho

These samadhis that result from meditation on an object are samadhis with seed, and do not give freedom from the cycle of rebirth.

On attaining the utmost purity of the nirvichara stage of samadhi, there is a dawning of the spiritual light.

In nirvichara samadhi, the consciousness is filled with truth.

-Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras

Contemplation is not meditation. There is a vast difference, and not only of quantity but of quality. They exist on different planes. Their dimensions are altogether different; not only different, but diametrically opposite.

This is the first thing to be understood. Contemplation is concerned with some object; it is a movement of consciousness towards the other. Contemplation is outgoing attention, moving towards the periphery, going away from the center. Meditation is moving towards the center, away from the periphery, away from the other. Contemplation is arrowed towards the other, meditation towards oneself. In contemplation, duality exists. There are two, the contemplator and the contemplated. In meditation there is only one.

The English word “meditation” is not very good, does not give the real sense of dhyana or samadhi, because in the very word meditation, it appears that you are meditating upon something. So try to understand: contemplation is meditating upon something; meditation is not meditating upon something, just being oneself, no movement away from the center, no movement at all . . . just being yourself so totally that there is not even a flickering; the inner flame remains unmoving. The other has disappeared; only you are. Not a single thought is there. The whole world has disappeared. The mind is no more there; only you are, in your absolute purity. Contemplation is like a mirror mirroring something; meditation is simply mirroring, not mirroring anything – just a pure capacity to mirror but not actually mirroring anything.

With contemplation you can attain up to nirvichara samadhi – samadhi with no thought – but in nirvichara one thought remains, and that is the thought of no-thought. That too is a thought, the last, the very last, but it remains. One is aware that there is no thought, one knows that there is no thought. But what is this knowing of no-thought? Vast change has happened, thoughts have disappeared, but now, no-thought itself has become an object. If you say that “I know emptiness,” then it is not enough emptiness; the thought of emptiness is there. The mind is still functioning, functioning in a very, very passive, negative way – but still functioning. You are aware that there is emptiness. Now what is this emptiness you are aware of? It is very subtle thought, the most subtle, the last beyond which the object completely disappears.

So whenever a disciple comes to a Zen Master very happy with his attainment and says that “I have attained emptiness,” the Master says, “Go and throw this emptiness away. Don’t bring it to me again. If you are really empty, then there is no thought of emptiness also.”

This is what happened in the famous story of Subhuti. He was sitting under a tree with no thought, not even the thought of no-thought. Suddenly, flowers showered. He was amazed – “What is happening?” He looked all around, flowers and flowers from the sky. Seeing that he was amazed, gods told him “Don’t be amazed. We have heard the greatest sermon on emptiness today. You have delivered it. Celebration we are making, and we are throwing these flowers on you as a symbol, appreciating and celebrating your sermon on emptiness.” Subhuti must have shrugged his shoulders and said, “But I have not spoken.” The gods said, “Yes, you have not spoken, neither have we heard – that is the greatest sermon on emptiness.”

If you speak, if you say “I am empty,” you have missed the point. Up to the thought of no-thought it is nirvichara samadhi, with no contemplation. But still the last part . . . the elephant has passed; the tail has remained – the last part – and sometimes the tail proves bigger than the elephant because it is so subtle. To throw away thoughts is easy. How to throw emptiness? – how to throw no-thought? It is very, very subtle; how to grasp it? That’s what happened when the Zen Master said to the disciple, “Go and throw this emptiness!” The disciple said, “But how to throw emptiness?” Then the Master said, “Then carry it away; go throw it, but don’t stand before me with emptiness in your head. Do something!”

It is very subtle. One can cling to it, but then the mind has deceived you at the last point. Ninety-nine point nine you had reached; just the last step, and hundred degrees would have been complete, and you would have evaporated.

Up to this point, Patanjali says it is samadhi without contemplation – nirvichara samadhi. If you attain to this samadhi you will become very, very happy, silent, serene. You will always be collected inside, together. You will have a crystallization; you will not be an ordinary man. You will look almost superhuman, but you will have to come back again and again. You will be born, you will die.

The wheel of reincarnation will not stop because the no-thought is just like a subtle seed; many lives will come out of it. The seed is very subtle, the tree is big, but the whole tree is hidden in the seed. The seed may be a mustard seed, so small, but it carries [the tree] within it. It is loaded, it has a blueprint; it can bring the whole tree again and again and again. And from one seed millions of seeds can come out. One small mustard seed can fill the whole earth with vegetation.

No-thought is the most subtle seed. And if you have it, Patanjali calls this “samadhi with seed,” sabeej samadhi. You will continue coming, the wheel will continue moving – birth and death, birth and death. It will be repeated. Still you have not burned the seed.

If you can burn this thought of no-thought, if you can burn this thought of no-self, if you can burn this thought of no-ego, only then nirbeej samadhi happens, samadhi with no seed. Then there is no birth, no death. You have transcended the whole wheel; you have gone beyond. Now you are pure consciousness. The duality has dropped; you have become one. This oneness, this dropping of duality is the dropping of life, death. The whole wheel suddenly stops – you are out of the nightmare.

Now we will enter into the sutras. They are very, very beautiful. Try to understand them. Deep is their significance. You will have to be very, very aware to understand the subtle nuances.

These samadhis that result from meditation on an object are samadhis with seed, and do not give freedom from the cycle of rebirth.

These samadhis that result from meditation on an object . . . You can meditate on any object, whether material or sacred. The object may be money, or the object may be moksha, the final attainment. The object may be a stone, or the object may be the Kohinoor diamond; it makes no difference. If the object is there, mind is there; with object, mind continues. Mind has a continuity through the object. Through the other, the mind is fed continuously. And when the other is there, you cannot know yourself; the whole mind is focused on the other. The other has to be removed, utterly removed, so there is nothing for you to think, there is nothing for you to give your attention to, there is nowhere you can move.

With the object, Patanjali says, there are many possibilities: you can be in relationship with the object as a reasoning being; you can think about the object logically – then Patanjali gives it the name of savitarka samadhi. It happens many times: when a scientist is observing an object, he becomes completely silent; no thoughts move in the sky, in his being, he is so much absorbed with the object. Or sometimes a child playing with his toy is so absorbed that the mind has completely, almost completely, stopped. A very deep serenity exists. The object takes all your attention; nothing is left behind. No anxiety is possible, no tension is possible, no anguish is possible, because you are totally absorbed in the object, you have moved in the object.

A scientist, a great philosopher . . . It happened to Socrates: he was standing one night; it was a full moon night and he was looking at the moon, and he became so absorbed . . . He must have been in what Patanjali calls savitarka samadhi, because he was one of the most logical men ever born, one of the most rational minds, the very peak of rationality. He was thinking about the moon, about the stars and the night and the sky, and he forgot himself completely. And the snow started falling, and by the morning he was found almost dead, half his body covered with snow, frozen, and still he was looking at the sky. He was alive but frozen. People came to search where he has gone, and then they found him standing; the whole night he was standing under the tree. And when they asked, “Why didn’t you come home back? – and the snow is falling and one can die,” he said, “I completely forgot about it. For me, it has not fallen. For me, time has not passed. I was so much absorbed with the beauty of the night, and the stars and the order of existence and the cosmos.”

Logic always is absorbed with the order, with the harmony that exists in the universe. Logic moves around an object – goes on moving around and around and around – and the whole energy is taken by the object. This is samadhi with reason, savitarka, but the object is there. The scientific, the rational, the philosophical mind attains to it.

Then Patanjali says that there is another samadhi, nirvitarka, the aesthetic mind – the poet, the painter, the musician attains to it. The poet goes directly into the object, not around and around, but still the object is there. He may not be thinking about it, but his attention is focused on it. It may not be the head functioning, it may be the heart, but still the object is there, the other is there. A poet can attain to very deep, blissful states, but the cycle of rebirth will not stop, neither for the scientist nor for the poet.

Then, Patanjali comes to savichara samadhi: logic has been dropped, just pure contemplation – not about it – just looking at it, watching it, witnessing it. Deeper realms open but the object remains there, and you remain obsessed with the object. You are not yet in your own self – the other is there. Then Patanjali comes to nirvichara.

In nirvichara, by and by, the object is made subtle. This is the most important point to be understood: in nirvichara, the object is made more and more subtle. From gross objects you move to subtle objects – from a rock to the flower, from the flower to the fragrance. You move towards subtle. By and by, a moment comes [when] the object becomes so subtle, almost as if it is not.

For example, if you contemplate on emptiness the object is almost not, if you meditate on nothingness. There are Buddhist schools which emphasize only one meditation, and that is on nothingness. One has to think, one has to meditate, one has to imbibe the idea that nothing exists. Continuously meditating on nothingness, a moment comes when the object becomes so subtle that it cannot withhold your attention; it is so subtle that there is nothing to contemplate, and one goes on and on and on. Suddenly, one day the consciousness bounces upon oneself. Not finding any standing ground there in the object, not finding any foothold, not finding anything to cling to, the consciousness bounces upon itself. It returns, comes back to its own center. Then it becomes the highest, the purest, nirvichara.

The highest, nirvichara, is when the consciousness bounces upon oneself. If you start thinking that “I have attained to no-thought, and I have attained to nothingness,” again you have created an object and the consciousness has moved away. This happens many times for a seeker. Not knowing the inner mysteries, many times you bounce upon yourself. Sometimes you touch your center, and again you have gone out. Suddenly, the idea arises, “Yes, I have attained.” Suddenly, you start feeling “Yes, here it is. Satori has happened, samadhi has been attained.” You feel so blissful it is natural for the idea to arise. But if the idea arises, again you have become a victim of something which is objective. Subjectivity is lost again; oneness has become two. Duality again is there.

One has to be aware not to allow the idea of no-thought. Don’t try – whenever something like this happens, remain into it. Don’t try to think about it, don’t make any notion about it; enjoy it. You can dance, there will be no trouble, but don’t allow verbalization, don’t allow language. Dancing won’t disturb because in dancing you remain one.

In Sufi tradition, dance is used to avoid mind. In the last stage, Sufi Masters say that “Whenever you come to a point where object has disappeared, immediately start dancing so that the energy moves into the body and not in the mind. Immediately do something; anything will help.”

Zen Masters when they attain start laughing a real belly laugh, roar-like, a lion’s roar. What are they doing? Energy is there and for the first time energy has become one. If you allow anything else in the mind, immediately the division is again there, and division is your old habit. It will persist for few days. Jump, run, dance, give a good belly laugh, do something so that the energy moves into the body and not into the head. Because energy is there and the old pattern is there, it can move again . . .

Many people come to me, and whenever it happens, the greatest problem arises – the greatest I say, because it is no ordinary problem. The mind immediately grabs hold of it and says, “Yes, you have attained.” The ego has entered, the mind has entered, everything is lost. A single idea and a vast division immediately is there. Dancing is good. You can dance – there will be no trouble about it. You can be ecstatic, you can celebrate. Hence, I emphasize celebration.

After each meditation celebrate, so celebration becomes part of you, and when the final happens, immediately you will be able to celebrate.

These samadhis that result from meditation on an object are samadhis with seed, and do not give freedom from the cycle of rebirth.

The whole problem is how to be freed from the other, the object. The object is the whole world. You will come again and again if the object is there, because with the object exists desire, with the object exists thought, with the object exists ego, with the object you exist. If the object falls, you will suddenly fall, because object and subject can exist together. They are parts of each other; one cannot exist. It is just like a coin: the head and tail exist together. You cannot save one and throw the other. You cannot save the head and throw the tail – they are together. Either you keep them both or you throw them both. If you throw one, the other is thrown. Subject and object are together; they are one, aspects of one thing. Object drops, the whole house of subjectivity immediately collapses; then you are no more the old. Then you are the beyond, and only the beyond is beyond life and death.

You will have to die; you will have to be reborn. While dying, just like a tree, you gather all your desires again in a seed. You don’t go into another birth; the seed flies and goes into another birth. All you have lived, desired – your frustrations, your failures, your successes, your loves, your hates – while you are dying, the whole energy gathers into a seed. That seed is of energy; that seed jumps from you, moves into a womb. Again, that seed recreates you, just like a seed in the tree. When the tree is going to die, it preserves itself into the seed. Through the seeds the tree persists; through the seed you persist. That’s why Patanjali calls it sabeej samadhi. If the object is there, you will have to be born again and again, you will have to pass through the same misery, the same hell that is life, unless you become seedless.

And what is seedlessness? If the object is not there, there is no seed. Then all your past karmas simply disappear, because in fact you have never done anything. Everything has been done by the mind – but you are identified, you think you are the mind. Everything has been done by the body – but you are identified, you think you are the body.

In a seedless samadhi, in nirvichara samadhi, when only consciousness exists in its utter purity, for the first time you understand the whole thing: that you have never been the doer. You have never desired a single thing. There is no need to desire because everything is in you. You are the ultimate. It was foolish on your part to desire, and because you desired you became a beggar.

Ordinarily you think otherwise – you think because you are a beggar, that’s why you desire. But in seedless samadhi dawns this understanding: that it is just the otherwise – because you desire, you are a beggar. You are completely upside down. If desire disappears, you simply, suddenly become the emperor. The beggar has never been there. It was because you were desiring, it was because you were thinking too much of the object, and you were so much obsessed with the object and the objects, that you had no time and no opportunity and no space to look within. You had completely forgotten who is within. Within is the divine, within is God himself.

That’s why Hindus go on saying, “Aham brahmasmi.” They say, “I am the ultimate.” But just by saying, it cannot be attained . . . One has to reach to the nirvichara samadhi. Only then Upanishads become true, only then Buddhas become true. You become a witness. You say, “Yes, they are right,” because now it has become your own experience.

On attaining the utmost purity of the nirvichara stage of samadhi, there is a dawning of the spiritual light.

Nirvichara vaisharadye adhyatma prasadh. This word prasad is very, very beautiful. It means grace. When one is in his own being settled, come home, suddenly a benediction . . . all that he always desired is suddenly fulfilled. All that you wanted to be, suddenly you are, and you have not done anything for it, you have not made any effort for it. In nirvichara samadhi, one comes to know that in one’s very nature, deepest nature, one is always fulfilled – a fulfillment dance!

On attaining the utmost purity . . .

And what is the utmost purity? – where not even the thought of no-thought exists. That is the utmost purity: where the mirror is simply the mirror, nothing is reflected in it – because even a reflection is an impurity. It does not do to the mirror anything in fact, but still the mirror is not pure. The reflection cannot do anything to the mirror. It will not leave any footprints, it will not leave any traces on the mirror, but while it is there the mirror is filled with something else. Something foreign is there: the mirror is not in its uttermost purity, in its uttermost loneliness; the mirror is not innocent – something is there.

When the mind has completely gone and even there is [no] no-mind, there is not a single thought of anything whatsoever, not even about your state of being in such a blissful moment – you are simply this utmost purity of nirvichara stage of samadhi – there is a dawning of the spiritual light: many things happen.

That is what happened to Subhuti: suddenly flowers showered for no known reason at all, and he has not done anything. He was not even aware of his emptiness. If he was, then flowers were not going to shower. He was simply oblivious of anything, he was so in himself – not even a ripple on the surface of the consciousness, not even a reflection in the mirror, not even a white cloud in the sky – nothing.

Flowers showered . . . that is what Patanjali says: Nirvichara vaisharadye adhyatma prasadh – suddenly grace descends. In fact, it has been always descending.

You are not aware: right now flowers are showering on you, but you are not empty so you cannot see them. Only through the eyes of emptiness they can be seen, because they are not flowers of this world, they are flowers from the other world.

All those who have attained, they agree on one point: that in that final attainment one feels that for no reason at all, everything is fulfilled. One feels so blessed, and one has not done anything for it. You have done something about meditation, you have done something about contemplation, you have done something about how not to cling with the object, you have done something on these lines, but you have not done anything for sudden blessings to shower on you. You have not done anything to fulfill your desires.

With the object, misery exists; with the desire, the miserable mind; with the demand, with the complaining mind, the hell. Suddenly when the object has gone, the hell has also disappeared and heaven is showering on you. It is a moment of grace. You cannot say that you have attained it.

You can simply say you have not done anything. That is the meaning of grace, prasadah: without doing anything on your part it is happening. In fact it has always been happening, but you are missing somehow. You are so much engrossed with the object, that’s why you cannot look within, what is happening there. Your eyes are not withinwards, your eyes are moving outwards. You are born already fulfilled. You need not do anything, you need not move a single step. This is the meaning of prasad.

There is a dawning of the spiritual light.

Always, you have been surrounded with darkness. With the awareness moving inwards, there is light, and in that light you come to know there has been no darkness. Just you were not in tune with yourself; that was the only darkness.

If you understand this, just sitting silently everything is possible. You don’t make a journey and you reach the goal. You don’t do anything and everything happens. Difficult to understand it, because the mind says, “How is it possible? And I have been doing so much. Even then bliss has not happened, so how it can happen without doing anything?” Everybody is seeking happiness and everybody is missing it, and the mind says, and of course logically, that if with so much seeking it doesn’t happen, how it can happen without seeking? And people who are talking about these things must have gone mad: “One has to seek hard, then only is it possible.” And the mind goes on saying, “Seek hard, make more effort, run fast, gain speed, because the goal is so far away.”

The goal is within you. There is no need for any speed and there is no need to go anywhere. There is no need to do anything whatsoever. The only thing needed is to sit silently in a non-doing state, without any object, just being yourself so completely, so utterly centered, that not even a ripple arises on the surface. And then there is prasad; then grace descends on you, blessings shower, your whole being is filled with an unknown benediction. Then this very world becomes a heaven. Then this very life becomes divine. Then there is nothing wrong. Then everything is as it should be. With your inner bliss you feel the bliss everywhere. With a new perception, a new clarity, there is no other world, there is no other life, there is no other time. This moment, this very existence is the only case.

But unless you feel yourself, you will go on missing all the blessings that existence gives just as gifts.

Prasad means it is a gift from the existence. You have not earned it, you cannot claim it. In fact, when the claimer goes, suddenly it is there.

On attaining the utmost purity of the nirvichara stage of samadhi, there is a dawning of the spiritual light.

. . . and your innermost being is of the nature of light. Consciousness is light, consciousness is the only light. You are existing very unconsciously: doing things, not knowing why; desiring things, not knowing why; asking things, not knowing why; drifting in an unconscious sleep. You are all sleepwalkers. Somnambulism is the only spiritual disease – walking and living in sleep.

Become more conscious. Start being conscious with objects. Look at things with more alertness. You pass by a tree; look at the tree with more alertness. Stop for a while, look at the tree; rub your eyes, look at the tree with more alertness. Collect your awareness, look at the tree, and watch the difference. Suddenly when you are alert, the tree is different: it is more green, it is more alive, it is more beautiful. The tree is the same, only you have changed. Look at a flower as if your whole existence depends on this look. Bring all your awareness to the flower and suddenly the flower is transfigured – it is more radiant; it is more luminous. It has something of the glory of the eternal, as if the eternal has come into the temporal in the shape of a flower.

Look at the face of your husband, your wife, your friend, your beloved, with alertness; meditate on it, and suddenly you see not only the body, but that which is beyond the body, which is coming out of the body. There is an aura around the body, of the spiritual. The face of the beloved is no more the face of your beloved; the face of the beloved has become the face of the divine. Look at your child. Watch him playing with full alertness, awareness, and suddenly the object is transfigured.

First start working with objects. That’s why Patanjali talks about other samadhis before he talks about nirvichara samadhi, the samadhi without seed. Start with objects and move towards more subtle objects.

For example, a bird sings in the tree: be alert, as if in that moment you exist and the song of the bird-the whole doesn’t exist, doesn’t matter. Focus your being towards the song of the bird and you will see the difference. The traffic noise no more exists, or exists at the very periphery of existence, far away, distant, and the small bird and its song fills your being completely – only you and the bird exist. And then when the song has stopped, listen to the absence of the song. Then the object becomes subtle, because . . .

Remember always: when a song stops it leaves a certain quality to the atmosphere – of the absence. It is no more the same. The atmosphere has changed completely because the song existed and then the song disappears . . . now the absence of the song. Watch it – the whole existence is filled by the absence of the song. And it is more beautiful than any song because it is the song of the silence. A song uses sound, and when the sound disappears the absence uses the silence. And after a bird has sung, the silence is deeper. If you can watch it, if you can be alert, you are now meditating on a very subtle object, a very subtle object. A person moves, a beautiful person moves – watch the person. And when he has left, now watch the absence; he has left something. His energy has changed the room; it is no more the same room.

When Buddha was dying, Ananda asked him . . . he was crying and weeping, and he said, “What will happen to us now? You were here and we couldn’t attain. Now you will be no more here; what we will do?” Buddha is reported to have said, “Now love my absence, be attentive to my absence.” For five hundred years no statues were made so that the absence can be felt. And instead of statues only the bodhi tree was depicted. Temples existed, but not with a Buddha statue; just a bodhi tree, a stone bodhi tree, an absent Buddha underneath, and people will go and sit and watch the tree, and try to watch the absence of the Buddha under the tree. And many attained to very deep silence and meditation. Then, by and by, the subtle object was lost and people started talking: “What is there to meditate? Only a tree is there, but where is Buddha?” Because to feel a Buddha in his absence needs very, very deep clarity and attentiveness. Then, feeling that now people cannot meditate on the subtle absence, statues were created.

This you can do with any of your senses because people have different capacities and sensibilities. For example, if you have a musical ear, then it is good to watch and to be attentive to a song of a bird. For few seconds it is there, and then it is gone. Then watch the absence. And you will be thrilled if you can watch the absence. Suddenly the object has become very subtle. It will require more attention and more awareness than the actual song of the bird.

If you have a good nose . . . very few people have it; almost [all] humanity has lost the nose completely. Animals are better; their smell is far [more] sensitive, capable, than man. Something has happened to man’s nose, something has gone wrong; very few people have a capable nose, but if you have – then be near a flower, let the smell fill you. Then, by and by, you move away from the flower, very slowly, but continue being attentive to the smell, the fragrance. As you move away, the fragrance will become more and more subtle, and you will need more awareness to feel it. Become the nose. Forget about the whole body; bring all your energy to the nose, as if only the nose exists. And by and by, if you lose track of the smell, go few steps further ahead; again catch hold of the smell, then back, move backwards. By and by, you will be able to smell a flower from a very, very great distance – nobody will be able to smell that flower from there. And then you go on moving. In a very simple way, you are making the object subtle. And then a moment will come when you will not be able to smell the smell: now smell the absence. Now smell the absence where the fragrance was just a moment before, and it is no more there. That is the other part of its being, the absent part, the dark part. If you can smell the absence of the smell, if you can feel it, that it makes a difference, it makes a difference; then the object has become very subtle. Now it is reaching nearly the nirvichara state, the no-thought state of samadhi. […]

You can do it with incense. Burn incense, meditate on it, feel it, smell it, be filled with it, and then move backwards, away from it. And go on, go on meditating on it; let it become more and more subtle. A moment comes when you can feel the absence of a certain thing. Then you have come to a very deep awareness.

On attaining the utmost purity of the nirvichara stage of samadhi, there is a dawning of the spiritual light.

But when the object completely disappears, the presence of the object disappears and the absence of the object disappears, thought disappears and no-thought disappears, mind disappears and the idea of no-mind disappears, only then you have attained to the utmost. Now this is the moment when suddenly grace descends on you. This is the moment when flowers shower. This is the moment when you are connected with the source of life and being. This is the moment when you are no more a beggar; you have become the emperor. This is the moment when you are crowned. Before it you were on a cross; this is the moment the cross disappears and you are crowned.

In nirvichara samadhi, the consciousness is filled with truth.

So truth is not a conclusion to be reached; truth is an experience to be attained. Truth is not something that you can think about; it is something that you can be. Truth is the experience of oneself being totally alone, without any object. Truth is you in your uttermost purity. Truth is not a philosophical conclusion. No syllogism can give you truth. No theory, no hypothesis can give you truth. Truth comes to you when mind disappears. Truth is already there hidden in the mind, and the mind won’t allow you to look at it because mind is outgoing and helps you to look at objects.

In nirvichara samadhi, the consciousness is filled with truth.

Ritambhara is a very beautiful word; it is just like Tao. The word truth cannot explain it completely. In the Vedas it is called rit. Rit means the very foundation of the cosmos. Rit means the very law of existence. Rit is not just truth; truth is too dry a word and carries much of the logical quality in it. We say, “This is true and that is untrue,” and we decide which theory is true and which theory is untrue. Truth carries much of the logic in it. It is a logical word. Rit means the law of the cosmic harmony, the law which moves the stars, the law through which seasons come and go, the sun rises and sets, and night follows day, and death follows birth. And mind creates the world and no-mind allows you to know that which is. Rit means the cosmic law, the very innermost core of existence.

Rather than calling it truth, it will be better to call it the very ground of being. Truth seems to be a distant thing, something that exists separate from you. Rit is your innermost being, and not only your innermost being, the innermost being of all, ritambhara. In nirvichara samadhi the consciousness is filled with ritambhara, the cosmic harmony. There is no discord, no conflict; everything has fallen in line. Even the wrong is absorbed, it is not discarded; even the bad is absorbed, it is not discarded; even the poison is absorbed, it is not discarded; nothing is discarded.

In truth, the untruth is discarded. In ritambhara, the whole is accepted, and the whole is such a harmonious phenomenon that even the poison plays its own part. Not only life but death also – everything is seen in a new light. Even the misery, the dukkha, takes a new quality to it. Even the ugly becomes beautiful because in the moment of the dawning of ritambhara, you understand for the first time why the opposites exist. And opposites are no more opposites; they have all become complementaries, they help each other.

Now you don’t have any complaint, no complaint against existence. Now you understand why things are as they are, why death exists. Now you know life cannot exist without death. And what life will be without death? – life will be simply unbearable without death; and life would be simply ugly without death . . . […].

Love will be unbearable if there is no opposite to it. If you cannot separate from your beloved, it will be unbearable; the whole thing will become so monotonous, it will create boredom. Life exists with the opposites – that’s why it is so interesting. Coming together and getting away, again coming together and getting away; rising and falling. Just think of a wave in the ocean which has risen and cannot fall, just think of a sun who has risen and cannot set. Movement from one polarity to another is the secret that life continues to be interesting. When one comes to know the ritambhara, the basic law of all, the very foundation of all, everything falls in line, and one understands. Then one has no complaint. One accepts: whatsoever is, is beautiful.

That’s why all those who have known they say life is perfect; you cannot improve upon it.

In nirvichara samadhi, the consciousness is filled with truth.

Call it Tao . . . Tao gives the meaning of ritambhara more correctly; but still if you can remain with the word ritambhara, it will be more beautiful. Let it remain there. Even the sound of it – ritambhara has some quality of harmony. Truth is too much dry, a logical concept. If you can make something out of truth plus love, it will be nearer to ritambhara. It is the hidden harmony of Heraclitus, but this happens only when the object has completely disappeared. You are alone with your consciousness and there is nobody else. The mirror without reflection . . .

-Osho

From The Mystery Beyond Mind, Discourse #7; Yoga: The Science of the Soul, V.3, (previously titled Yoga: The Alpha and the Omega).

Copyright © OSHO International Foundation

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

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

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

The Pure Look – Osho

Nirvitarka samadhi is attained when the memory is purified, and the mind is able to see the true nature of things without obstruction.

The explanations given for the samadhis of savitarka and nirvitarka, also explain the higher states of samadhi, but in these higher states of savichara and nirvichara samadhis, the objects of meditation are more subtle.

The province of samadhi that is connected with these finer objects extends up to the formless stage of the subtle energies.

-Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras

Mind is memory; it is like a computer. To be exact, it is a biocomputer. It accumulates all that is experienced, known. Through many lives, through millions of experiences the mind gathers memory. It is a vast phenomenon. Millions and millions of memories are stored in it. It is a great storehouse.

All your past lives are stored in it. Scientists say even in a single moment thousands of memories are being collected continuously – without your knowing, the mind goes on functioning. Even while you are asleep, memories are being formed. Even while you are asleep . . . somebody cries and weeps, your senses are functioning and collecting the experience. You may not be able to recall it in the morning because you were not conscious, but in deep hypnosis it can be recalled. In deep hypnosis, everything that knowingly and unknowingly you have experienced ever, can all be recalled back – your past lives also. The simple expanse of mind is really vast. These memories are good if you can use them, but these memories are dangerous if they start using you.

A pure mind is that mind who is master of its own memories. An impure mind is that mind who is continuously impressed by the memories. When you look at a fact, you can look without interpreting it. Then the consciousness is in direct touch with reality. Or, you can look through the mind, through interpretations. Then you are not in touch with reality. The mind is good as an instrument, but if the mind becomes an obsession and the consciousness is suppressed by the mind, then the reality will also be suppressed by the mind. Then you live in a maya; then you live in illusion.

Whenever you see a fact, if you see it directly, immediately, without the mind and the memory coming in, only then it is a fact. Otherwise, it becomes an interpretation. And all interpretations are false because all interpretations are loaded by your past experience. You can see only things which are in tune with your past experience. You cannot see things which are not in tune with your past experience, and your past experience is not all. Life is bigger than your past experience. Howsoever big the mind may be, it is just a tiny part if you consider the whole existence – so small. The known is very little; the unknown is vast and infinite. When you try to know the unknown through the known, then you miss the point. This is the impurity. When you try to know the unknown by the unknown inside you, then there is revelation.

It happened: Mulla Nasruddin caught a very, very big fish in the river. A crowd gathered, because nobody has ever seen such a big fish. Mulla Nasruddin looked at the fish, couldn’t believe that it is possible – such a big fish! With bulging eyes, he moved around the fish but still couldn’t believe. He touched the fish but still couldn’t believe, because he had heard about such a big fish only in fishermen’s tall tales. The crowd was also standing there with unbelieving eyes. Then Mulla Nasruddin said, “Please help me to throw this fish back into the river. It is no fish; it is a lie.”

Anything is true if it fits with your past experience. If it doesn’t fit, it is a lie. You cannot believe in God because it doesn’t fit with your past experience. You cannot believe in meditation because you have always lived in the market, and you only know the reality of the market, of the calculating mind, of the business mind. You don’t know anything about celebration – pure, simple, with no reason at all, uncaused. If you have lived in a scientist’s world, you cannot believe that there can be anything spontaneous because the scientist lives in the world of cause and effect. Everything is caused; nothing is spontaneous. So when the scientist hears that something is possible which is spontaneous – when we say spontaneous we mean that it has no cause, suddenly out of the blue – the scientist cannot believe. He will say, “It is no fish at all, it is a lie. Throw it back into the river.”

But those who have worked in the inner world know that there are phenomena which are uncaused. Not only that – that they know this – they know that the whole existence is uncaused. It is a different, totally different world from the scientific mind.

Whatsoever you see, even before you have seen it, the interpretation has entered. Continuously I watch people; I am talking to them – if it fits, even they have not said anything, they have given me an inner nod, “Yes.” They are saying, “Right.” If it doesn’t fit with their attitudes, they have not said anything, the “no” is written on their face. Deep down they have started saying, “No, it is not true.” […]

You cannot listen because of the memory; you cannot see because of the memory; you cannot look at the facticity of the world because of the memory. Memory comes in – your past, your knowledge, your learning, your experiences – and they color reality. The world is not illusory, but when interpreted, you live in an illusory world. Remember this.

Hindus say the world is maya, illusory. When they say it, they don’t mean the world that is there, they simply mean the world that is inside you, the world of your interpretations. The world of facticity is not unreal; it is the brahma itself. It is supreme reality. But the world that you have created through your mind and memory and in which you live, which surrounds you, like an atmosphere around you . . .  and you move with it and in it. Wherever you go you take it around you. It is your aura, and through it you look at the world. Then whatsoever you are looking at is not a fact, it is an interpretation.

Patanjali says:

Nirvitarka samadhi is attained when the memory is purified, and the mind is able to see the true nature of things without obstruction.

Interpretation is the obstruction. Interpret, and the reality is lost. Look without interpretation and the reality is there, and always has been there. The reality is every moment there. How it can be otherwise? Reality means that which is real. It has not moved from its place even for a single moment. Just you live in your interpretations and you create a world of your own. The reality is common, illusion is private.

You must have heard the story, a very old, ancient Indian story. Five blind men came to see an elephant. They had never seen it; it was absolutely new in the town. Elephants didn’t exist in their part of the country. They all touched, they all felt the elephant, and they all interpreted whatsoever they felt. They interpreted through their experience. One man said, “An elephant is like a pillar,” because he was touching the legs of the elephant – and he was true [right]. He touched, himself, by his own hands, and then he remembered the pillars – and exactly like the pillars. And so on, so forth, they all interpreted. It happened in a primary school in America: a teacher told this story to the boys and girls without telling them that the five persons who came to the elephant were blind. And the story is so well known, and she expected that the children will understand. Then she asked, “Now tell me, who were those five persons who came to see the elephant?” One small boy raised his hand and said, “Experts.”

Experts are always blind. That boy was really a discoverer. This is the essence of the whole story. In fact, they were experts because an expert knows too much about too little. He becomes more and more narrow, narrow, narrow – almost blind to the whole world. Only in a particular direction he is with eyes; otherwise, he is blind. His vision becomes narrower and narrower and narrower. The greater an expert, the narrower the vision. An absolute expert must be completely blind. They say that an expert is a man who knows more and more about little and little [less and less].

Few centuries before there were physicians, doctors, who knew everything about the body. There were no experts. Now, if you have something wrong with your heart then you go to an expert, something wrong with your teeth, you go to another expert . . . […]

To know reality, you don’t have to be an expert. To know reality, you don’t have to be narrow, exclusive. To be in tune with reality you have to put down all your knowledge, put it aside and look at it with the eyes of a child, not with the eyes of an expert – because those eyes are always blind. Only a child has real eyes wide looking, looking everywhere, all around in all directions – because he doesn’t know anything. He is moving in all directions all the time. The moment you know, and you are hooked somewhere. If you can become a child again and can look at reality without any obstruction, interpretation, experience, knowledge, expertise, then Patanjali says, nirvitarka samadhi is attained Because when there is no interpretation, memory is purified, and the mind is able to see the true nature of things.

Patanjali divides samadhi into many layers. First, he talks about savitarka samadhi. It means samadhi with reasoning. You are still a reasoning person, logical. Then he calls the second samadhi nirvitarka, samadhi without reasoning. Now, you are not arguing about reality. You are not even looking at reality with your knowledge. You are simply looking at reality.

The man who looks at reality with logic, reasoning never looks at reality. He projects his own mind on the reality. The reality works like a screen for him to project himself. And whatsoever you project, you will find there. First you put it there, and then you find it there. It is a deception because you yourself put it there, and then you find it there. It is not real.

Nasruddin once told me that “My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world.” I asked him, “Mulla, how you came to know about it?” He said, “How? – simple. My wife told me!” This is how it goes on in the mind: you put it in the reality, and then you find it there. This is the attitude of the savitarka mind. Nirvikalpa mind, nirvitarka mind, puts nothing; it simply looks at whatsoever is the case.

Why you go on putting into reality something from your mind? – because you are afraid of reality. A deep fear of reality is there. It may be that it is not of your liking. It may be that it is against you, your mind. Because the reality is natural; it doesn’t bother who you are. You are afraid: the reality may not be your wish-fulfillment, so it is better not to see it; go on seeing whatsoever you desire. This is how you have lost many lives – fooling around. And you are not fooling anybody else, you are fooling yourself, because by your interpretations and projections the reality cannot be changed. Only you suffer unnecessarily. You think there is a door and there is no door; it is a wall, and you try to pass through it. Then you suffer, then you are shocked.

Unless you see the reality, you will never be able to find the door out of the prison in which you are. The door exists, but the door cannot exist according to your desires. The door exists; if you drop the desires, you will be able to see it. And this is the trouble: you go on wish-fulfilling; you just go on believing and projecting, and every time a belief is shattered, and a projection falls. Because it will happen many times, because your daydreams cannot be fulfilled by reality. Whenever a dream is shattered, a rainbow falls down, a desire dies, you suffer. But immediately you start creating another desire, another rainbow of your wishes. Again, you start making a new rainbow bridge between you and reality.

Nobody can walk on a rainbow bridge. It looks like a bridge; it is not a bridge. In fact, a rainbow doesn’t exist; it only appears. If you go there, you will not find any rainbow. It is a dreamlike phenomenon. The maturity consists in having come to the realization that “Now no more projections, interpretations. Now I am ready to see whatsoever is the case.”

Wittgenstein, one of the very keen intellects of this age, starts his tremendously valuable book Tractatus with the sentence, “The world is all that is the case. You can go on dreaming around it; it will not help. You stop dreaming and see. The world is all that is the case.” You don’t unnecessarily waste your life and time and energy in trying to see something that is not there. Stop dreaming and look at reality.

That is the meaning of nirvitarka samadhi, samadhi without any reasoning. It is just a pure look. You don’t reason about it; you simply look at it. You don’t do anything about it, you simply allow it to be there and penetrate you. In savitarka samadhi you try to penetrate into reality. In nirvitarka samadhi you allow the reality to penetrate you. In savitarka samadhi you try [to make] the reality to be according to you. In nirvitarka samadhi you try yourself to be according to the reality.

The explanations given for the samadhis of savitarka and nirvitarka, also explain the higher states of samadhi, but in these higher states of savichara and nirvichara samadhis, the objects of meditation are more subtle.

Then, Patanjali brings two other words, savichara and nirvichara. Savichara means with contemplation, and nirvichara means without contemplation. They are the higher states of the same phenomenon he calls savitarka and nirvitarka. Savitarka samadhi, if followed, will become savichara.

If you think about logically, and go on thinking, and go on thinking, logic has a boundary to it. It is not infinite. Logic cannot be infinite. In fact, logic denies all infinities. Logic is always in a boundary. Only then it can remain logical, because with the infinite enters the illogical; with the infinite enters the mysterious, with the infinite enters the miraculous. With the entry, the Pandora’s box is open. So logic never talks about the infinite. Logic says everything is finite, can be defined. Everything is within boundaries, can be understood. Logic is always afraid of the infinite. It looks like a vast darkness; logic trembles to move into it. Logic keeps itself on the highway, it never moves into the wild. On the highway everything is safe, and you know where you are going. Once you step aside and move into the wild, you don’t know where you are going. Logic is a very deep fear.

If you ask me, logic is the greatest coward. People who are courageous always go beyond logic. People who are cowardly always remain within the confinements of logic. Logic is a prison, beautifully decorated, but it is not like a vast sky. The sky is not decorated at all. It is undecorated, but it is vast. It is freedom, and freedom has its own beauty; it needs no decorations. The sky is enough unto itself. It needs no painter to paint it, no decorator to decorate it. The very vastness is its beauty. But vastness is terrific [terrifying] also, because it is so tremendous. The mind simply boggles before it; the mind seems so puny. The ego gets shattered before it, so the ego creates a beautiful prison of logic, definitions – everything clean-cut, everything known – of the experience and closes its doors to the unknown, makes a world of itself, a separate world, a private world. That world doesn’t belong to the whole; it has been cut. All the relationships with the whole have been cut.

That’s why logic will never lead anybody to the divine, because logic is human, and it has broken all the bridges with the divine. Divine is wild; it is mysterium and tremendum. It is a great mystery that cannot be solved. It is not a riddle that you can solve, it is a mystery. Its nature is such that it cannot be solved. But if you go on continuing logically thinking, there comes a moment when you reach to the boundary of logic. If you go on thinking more and more, then logical thinking changes into contemplation, into vichar.

The first step is logical thinking and, if you continue, the last step will be contemplation. If a philosopher continues, goes on moving, is not stuck somewhere, he is bound to become a poet someday, because when the boundary is crossed, suddenly there is poetry. Poetry is contemplation; it is vichar.

Think of it this way: a logical philosopher is sitting in the garden and looking at a rose flower. He interprets it. He classifies it – he knows what type of rose this is, from where it comes, the physiology of the rose, the chemistry of the rose: everything logically he thinks about. He classifies it, defines it, works around and around – in fact, never touching the rose at all – moves just around and around, around and around, beating the bush around, leaving the rose there.

Because logic cannot touch a rose. It can cut it, it can put it into pigeonholes, it can classify, it can label it – but it cannot touch it. The rose won’t allow logic to touch it. And even if logic wants, it is not possible. Logic has no heart, and only the heart can touch the rose. Logic is just a head affair. The head cannot touch the rose. The rose will not allow its mystery for the head because the head is just like a rape. And the rose opens itself only for love, not for a rape.

Science is rape; poetry is love. If somebody continues, like Einstein, then the philosopher or the scientist or the logician becomes a poet. Einstein became a poet in his last days. Eddington became a poet in his last days. They started talking about the mysterious. They had come to the boundary of the logic. People who always remain logical are people who have not gone to the very extent, to the very end of their logical reasoning. They are not really logical. If they really go, then a moment is bound to come where logic ends and poetry starts.

Vichar is contemplation. What a poet does? – he contemplates. He just looks at the flower, he doesn’t think about it. This is the distinction, very subtle: the logician thinks about the flower, the poet thinks the flower, not about it. And “about it” is not the flower. You may talk and talk about it, but it is not the flower. The logician goes round and round, a poet goes direct and hits the very reality of flower. For a poet, a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose – not “about”. He moves inwards, into the flower. Now the memory is not brought in. The mind is put aside; it is a direct contact.

This is a higher stage of the same phenomenon. The quality has become refined but the phenomenon is the same.

That’s why Patanjali says,

The explanations given for the samadhis of savitarka and nirvitarka, also explain the higher states of samadhi, but in these higher states of savichara and nirvichara samadhis, the objects of meditation are more subtle.

In savichara, the poet – and anybody who enters savichara becomes a poet – thinks the flower, not about it, but immediate and direct, but there is still division. The poet is separate from the flower. The poet is the subject, and the flower is the object. The duality exists. The duality is not transcended: the poet has not become the flower; the flower has not become the poet. The observer is the observer, and the observed is still the observed. The observer has not become the observed; the observed has not become the observer. Duality exists.

In savichara samadhi logic has been dropped, but not duality. In nirvichara samadhi even duality is dropped. One simply looks at the flower, not thinking of himself and not thinking of the flower; not thinking at all. That is nirvichara: without contemplating, beyond contemplation. One simply is being with the flower, not thinking about, not thinking – neither like the logician nor like the poet.

Now comes the mystic, the sage, who is simply with the flower. You cannot say that he thinks about, or he thinks. No, he is simply with. He allows the flower to be there and allows himself to be there. In that moment of allowing, there comes suddenly a unity. The flower is no more the flower, and the observer is no more the observer. Suddenly energies meet and mingle and become one. Now the duality is transcended. The sage doesn’t know who is the flower and who is watching it. If you ask the sage, the mystic, he will say, “I don’t know. It may be the flower who is watching me. It may be I who is watching the flower. It changes,” he will say, “it depends. And sometimes, there is neither I nor the flower. Both disappear. Only a unified energy remains. I become the flower and the flower becomes me.” This is the state of nirvichara, of no contemplation but of being.

Savitarka is the first step, nirvitarka is the last step in the same direction. Savichara is the first step, nirvichara is the last step in the same direction, on two planes. But Patanjali says the same explanation applies. The highest, up to now, is nirvichara.

Patanjali will come to higher stages also, because few more things have to be explained, and he moves very slowly – because if he moves very fast it will not be possible for you to understand. He is going deeper and deeper every moment. He is leading you, by and by, to the infinite ocean, step by step. He is not a believer of sudden enlightenment – gradual, that’s why his appeal is so great.

Many people have existed who have talked about sudden enlightenment, but they have not appealed to the masses because it is simply unbelievable that sudden enlightenment is possible. Tilopa may say, but that is not the point – that Tilopa says. The point is: does anybody understand it? – that’s why many Tilopas have disappeared. Patanjali’s appeal continues, because nobody can understand those wildflowers, like Tilopa. They suddenly appear just out of the blue and they say, “Suddenly, you can also become like us.” This is incomprehensible. Under their magnetic personality you may listen to them, but you cannot believe them. The moment you leave them you will say, “This man is saying something which is beyond me. It goes over my head.”

Tilopas have lived, talked, tried, but they have not been able to help many people. Rarely somebody will understand them. That’s why Tilopa had to go to Tibet to find a disciple – this vast country, and he couldn’t find a single disciple – and Bodhidharma had to go to China to find a disciple. This ancient country, for thousands of years working on the religious dimension, and he couldn’t find a single disciple. Yes . . . difficult for Tilopa, difficult for Bodhidharma to find a single disciple.

To find someone who can understand Tilopa is difficult because he talks of the goal, and he says, “There is no path and no method.” He is standing on the hilltop and he says, “There is no path,” and you are standing in the valley, dark, damp, in your misery. You look at Tilopa and you say, “Maybe . . .  but how, how one reaches?” You go on asking, “How?”

Krishnamurti goes on telling people there is no method, and after each talk people ask, “Then how? Then how to reach?” And he simply shrugs his shoulders and becomes angry that “I have told you there is no method, so don’t ask how, because how is again asking for the method.” And these are not new people who ask. Krishnamurti has people who have been listening to him for thirty, forty years. Very old, ancient people you will find in his talks. They have been listening to him continuously; religiously they listen to him. They come always – whenever he is there, they come always, and they listen. You will find almost the same faces for years and years and years, and again and again they ask from their valleys, “But how?” – and Krishnamurti simply shrugs his shoulders and says, “There is no how. You simply understand, and you reach. There is no path.”

Tilopa, Bodhidharma, Krishnamurti, they come and go; they are not much help. The people who listen to them enjoy listening to them – even come to a certain intellectual understanding – but they remain in the valley. I myself have come across many people who listen to Krishnamurti, but I have never seen a single person who has gone beyond his valley by listening to him. He remains in the valley, starts talking like Krishnamurti, that’s all; starts telling to other people that there is no way and no path, and remains in the valley.

Patanjali has been a tremendous help, incomparable. Millions have passed through this world by the help of Patanjali because he doesn’t talk according to his understanding, he moves with you. And as your understanding grows, he goes deeper and deeper and deeper. Patanjali follows the disciple; Tilopa would like the disciple to follow him. Patanjali comes to you; Tilopa would like you to come to him. And of course, Patanjali takes your hand and, by and by, he takes you to the highest peak possible, of which Tilopa talks but cannot lead because he will never come to your valley. He will remain on his hilltop and will go on shouting from there. In fact, he will irritate many people because he will not stop; he will go on shouting from the top that “This is possible! And there is no way, and there is no method. You can simply come. It happens; you cannot do [it].” He irritates.

When there is no method, people get irritated and they would like him to stop, not to shout. Because if there is no way, then how to move from the valley to the top? You are talking nonsense. But Patanjali is very sensible, very sane, he moves step by step, takes you from where you are, comes to the valley, takes your hand and says, “One by one, take steps.”

Patanjali said, “There is a path. There are methods.” And he is really very, very wise. By and by, he will persuade you in the end that drop the method and drop the path – there are none – but only at the end, at the very peak, just when you have reached, when even Patanjali leaves you, there is no trouble; you will reach by yourself. At the last moment he becomes nonsensical. Otherwise, he is sensible. And he has remained so sensible the whole way that when he becomes nonsensical, then too he appeals, then too he looks very sensible. Because a man like Patanjali cannot talk nonsense. He is reliable.

The explanations given for the samadhis of savitarka and nirvitarka, also explain the higher states of samadhi, but in these higher states of savichara and nirvichara samadhis, the objects of meditation are more subtle.

By and by, the object of meditation has to be made more and more subtle. For example, you can meditate on a rock, or you can meditate on a flower, or you can meditate on the fragrance of the flower, or you can meditate on the meditator. And then things go subtle and subtle and subtle and subtle. For example, you can meditate on the sound aum. The first meditation is to say it loudly, so it resounds all around you. It becomes a temple of sound all around you: aum, aum, aum. You create vibrations all around you – gross, the first step. Then you close your mouth. Now you don’t say it loudly. Inside you say, aum, aum, aum. Lips are not allowed to move, not even the tongue. Without the tongue and without the lips you say, aum. Now you create an inner atmosphere, inner climate of aum. The object has become subtle. Then the third step: you don’t even recite it; you simply listen to it. You change the position – from the doer, you move to a passivity of a listener. In the third state you don’t pronounce the aum inside also. You simply sit and you hear the sound. It comes because it is there. You are not silent; that’s why you cannot hear it.

Aum is not a word of any human language. It doesn’t mean anything. That’s why Hindus don’t write it in the usual alphabetical order. No, they have made a separate form for it just to distinguish it, that this is not part of the alphabet. It exists on its own, separate, and it means nothing. It is not a word of human language. It is the sound of the very existence itself, the sound of the soundless, the sound of the silence. When everything is silent then it is heard. So you become the hearer. It goes on and on, more and more subtle. And in the fourth stage you simply forget about everything: the doer, and the hearer, and the sound – everything. In the fourth stage there is nothing.

You must have seen ten ox herding pictures of Zen. In the first picture a man is looking for his ox – the ox has gone somewhere in the wild forest, no sign, no footprints – just looking all around, trees and trees and trees. In the second picture he looks happier – footprints have been found. In the third he seems a little bewildered – just the back of the ox is seen near a tree, but difficult to distinguish. The forest is wild, thick. Maybe it is just a hallucination that he is seeing the back of the ox; it may be just a part of the tree, and he may be projecting. Then in the fourth, he has caught hold of the tail. In the fifth, he has controlled by the whip; now the ox is in his power. In the sixth, he is riding on the ox, he is coming back towards the home with a flute, singing a song, riding on the ox. In the seventh, the ox in the stable, he is in the home, happy; the ox has been found. In the eighth, there is nothing; the ox has been found, and the ox and the seeker, the seeker and the sought, both have disappeared. The search is over.

In the ancient days these were the eight pictures. It was a complete set. The emptiness is the last. But then a great Master added two more pictures. The ninth – the man is back, again there. And in the tenth not only the man is back, he has gone to purchase few things to the market, and not only things, he is carrying a bottle of wine. This is really beautiful. This is complete. If it ends on emptiness, something is incomplete. The man is back again, and not only back, he is in the market. Not only in the market, he has purchased a bottle of wine.

The whole becomes more and more subtle, more and more subtle. A moment comes when you will feel it is the perfect, the most subtle. When everything becomes empty and there is no picture, the seeker and the sought both have disappeared. But this is not really the end. There is still a subtleness. The man comes back to the world totally transformed. He is no more the old self – reborn, and when you are reborn, the world is also not the same. The wine is wine no more, the poison is no more poison, the market is no more market. Now everything is accepted. It is beautiful. Now he is celebrating. That is the symbol: the wine.

More and more subtle becomes the search, and more and more strong becomes the consciousness. And a moment comes when the consciousness is so strong that you live like an ordinary being in the world, without fear. But move with Patanjali step by step. The objects of meditation are more and more subtle.

The province of samadhi that is connected with these finer objects extends up to the formless stage of the subtle energies.

This is the eighth picture. The province of samadhi that is connected with these finer objects becomes more and more fine, and a moment comes when the form disappears, and it is formless.

. . . extends up to the formless stage of the subtle energies.

The energies are so subtle you cannot make a picture out of them, you cannot carve them; only the emptiness can show them: a zero – the eighth picture. By and by you will understand how these two other remaining pictures come in.

Patanjali – I call him the scientist of the religious world, the mathematician of mysticism, the logician of the illogical. Two opposites meet in him. If a scientist reads Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras he will understand immediately. A Wittgenstein, a logical mind, will feel immediately an affinity with Patanjali. He’s absolutely logical. And if he leads you towards the illogical, he leads you in such logical steps you never know when he has left the logic and taken you beyond it. He moves like a philosopher, a thinker, and makes so subtle distinctions that the moment he takes you into nirvichara, into no-contemplation, you will not be able to watch when the jump has been taken. He has cut the jump into many small steps. With Patanjali you will never feel fear, because he knows where you will feel fear. He cuts the steps smaller and smaller, almost as if you move on the plain ground. He takes you so slowly that you cannot observe when the jump has happened, when you have crossed the boundary. And he is also a poet, a mystic – a very rare combination. Mystics are there, like Tilopa; great poets are there like the rishis of Upanishads, great logicians are there like Aristotle, but you cannot find a Patanjali. He is such a combination that since him there has been no one who can be compared to him. It is very easy to be a poet because you are out of one piece. It is very easy to be a logician – you are made of one piece. It is almost impossible to be a Patanjali because you comprehend so many opposites, and in such a beautiful harmony he combines them all. That’s why he has become the alpha and the omega of the whole tradition of yoga.

In fact, it was not he who invented yoga; yoga is far [more] ancient. Yoga had been there for many centuries before Patanjali. He is not the discoverer, but he almost became the discoverer and founder just because of this rare combination of his personality. Many people had worked before him and almost everything was known, but yoga was waiting for a Patanjali. And suddenly, when Patanjali spoke about it, everything fell in line, and he became the founder. He was not the founder, but his personality is such a combination of opposites, he comprehends in himself such incomprehensible elements, he became the founder – almost the founder. Now yoga will always be known with Patanjali. Since Patanjali, many have again worked and many have reached new corners of the world of yoga, but Patanjali towers like an Everest. It seems almost impossible anybody ever will be able to tower higher than Patanjali – almost impossible. This rare combination is impossible. To be a logician and to be a poet and to be a mystic, and not of ordinary talents . . . It is possible: you can be a logician, a great logician, and a very ordinary poet. You can be a great poet and a very ordinary logician, third-rate – that’s possible, that’s not very difficult. Patanjali is a genius logician, a genius poet, and a genius mystic; Aristotle, Kalidas and Tilopa all rolled in one – hence the appeal.

Try to understand Patanjali as deeply as possible, because he will help you. Zen Masters won’t be of much help. You can enjoy them – beautiful phenomena. You can be awe-struck, you can be filled with wonder, but they won’t help you. Rarely somebody will be able within you who can take the courage and jump into the abyss. Patanjali will be of much help. He can become the very foundation of your being, and he can lead you, by and by. He understands you more than anybody else. He looks at you and he tries to speak the language that the last amongst you will be able to understand. He is not only a Master; he is a great teacher also.

Educationists know that a great teacher is not one who can be understood only by the topmost few students in the class, just the first benchers, four or five in a class of fifty. He is not a great teacher. A great teacher is one who can be understood by the last benchers. Patanjali is not only a Master, he is a teacher also. Krishnamurti is a Master, Tilopa is a Master – but not teachers. They can be understood only by the topmost. This is the problem – the topmost need not understand. They can go [on] their own. Even without Krishnamurti they will move into the ocean and reach to the other shore; a few days sooner or later, that’s all. The last benchers who cannot move on their own, Patanjali is for them. He starts from the lowest and he reaches to the highest. His help is for all. He is not for the chosen few.

-Osho

From The Mystery Beyond Mind, Discourse #5; Yoga: The Science of the Soul, V.3, (previously titled Yoga: The Alpha and the Omega).

Copyright © OSHO International Foundation

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

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

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