Osho,
Sitting with you in discourse a feeling of magnificence and utter luxuriousness, which feels so different from material luxury, keeps on arising in me. Would you like to talk about the luxuriousness of being with a living master?
There are two worlds side by side: the world of matter and the world of consciousness. The world of matter is known to the mind, but the world of consciousness is only known when the mind disappears. We are all born as a mind, but existence gives us every opportunity and every challenge to go beyond it. Very few dare, but those who dare are the only people who have known life in its immense beauty, its luxury, its joy, its music, its harmony, its eternal silence and peace. Only those few people have really lived; the others are somehow just dragging themselves from the cradle to the grave.
The mind can never know what authentic luxury is. It cannot know anything of the real; it knows only about the unreal, about the world that is made of the same stuff as dreams are made of. The mind has its own limitations, but there is no question of condemning the mind. Your eyes can see but your eyes cannot hear; there is no reason to condemn the eyes because you cannot hear the music. “Why can’t you hear the sound of the running water? Why can’t you hear the songs of the birds and the tremendous silence of the stars?” Eyes can only see, there is no question of any condemnation. Ears can only hear. It is absolutely absurd to condemn the ears because they cannot see the light of the sun and the moon, because they cannot see the rainbow and its colors, the flowers and their tremendous beauty.
All five senses have their own windows to existence, and our mind is all five senses combined. These five senses are the five doors or windows of the mind into existence. But because these five senses only go outward, you can see what is outside you but not what is inside you. You can touch what is outside you but not what is inside you.
All senses are doors opening to the outside world, but the world of consciousness is within. The mind has no way to even have a glimpse of the world that is hidden inside you. They are side by side; there is not a difference of miles or even a few steps. They meet on a boundary line, they are running parallel – and just as parallel lines never meet, they never meet. You would have to jump from one line to another line.
The mind hankers for luxury, for comfort, for joy, for love. It tries to make things that it longs for happen, but they are bound to be just outward things: a beautiful house, beautiful furniture, a beautiful garden. Everything that you can think of, the mind can manage – but only on the outside. It is only a very faraway echo of the inner beauty, of the inner luxury, of the inner richness. But the inner, which is so close, remains almost closed to millions of people. Their whole lives they are playing with toys and never come to know the real. And the real was not far away. It was just a change of gestalt.
This word gestalt is German. No other language has exactly the same word, hence it is used in all the languages without being translated. But it can be explained so that you can see what it indicates.
Just thirty or forty years ago a psychology came into being and became very fashionable. It was Gestalt psychology. It has faded now, but there is some significant meaning in the very word gestalt. The psychology may prove true or untrue – that is not my interest. My interest is in the simple word gestalt. That psychology has contributed a tremendously beautiful word.
In Gestalt psychology books, you will always find a picture to explain the meaning of gestalt and sometimes you will find that kind of picture in children’s books: a line drawing of a beautiful young woman. What is expected of you is to go on staring, without blinking, at the beautiful face of the woman. And suddenly you see something has changed. Nothing has changed: you are the same, the book is the same, the picture is the same. But in a strange moment, in a strange way, something has transpired between your vision and the lines of the picture. Instead of a beautiful young woman, you see a very ugly old woman. You cannot believe it when it happens for the first time.
Then go on staring – it will happen again: the old woman will disappear and the young woman is there. You cannot see both together. That is a very significant point to understand. You can’t see both together because they both consist of the same lines. When you start to see the beautiful woman again, the gestalt has changed; you are seeing the same lines in a different combination. But because they are the same lines, you now cannot see the old woman. When you then start seeing the old woman, once more the gestalt has changed, your vision has changed. The same lines that were making the beautiful woman, the young woman, are now constituting the old woman.
So you can see both, but only separately. Why does it happen? It’s because your mind is in a constant change; it cannot remain at the same point for long. It is not accustomed to being static; it is a dynamic force. So when you are staring at the beautiful woman, the mind gets bored. It wants some change, but you don’t allow any change. You go on focusing, staring, then the mind finds a way of its own. It changes the gestalt, it changes the combination of the lines until suddenly you see an old woman.
I think you will understand the meaning of gestalt: the meaning is a sudden change in your vision. That which was not in front of you, that which you were not seeing, suddenly becomes visible. And that which you were seeing suddenly disappears – and you can’t see both together.
I would like you to understand something parallel, a gestalt, in the history of world philosophy. There have been philosophers like Shankara, in India, Bradley in England, Hegel in Germany, and many more all over the world. These three can be said to be the most representative of a certain gestalt. They all say that the world is illusory, it is only an appearance. It is not a reality, it is no more than a dream. The real is experienced only in your innermost being. Except for your inner being, everything that you see is just ephemeral.
In India they call it maya. The word maya means: as if you are seeing a magic show in which nothing is real. Or it can also mean a mirage – what happens in a desert when you are very thirsty, tired. Suddenly you see far away a beautiful small oasis, trees, a lake. You see not only the lake, you see the reflection of the trees in the lake. It is impossible to deny the reality of an oasis. But as you come close the oasis goes – simply where, you cannot say. It simply disappears. There are no trees, there is no lake and there is no reflection of the trees.
The people, the travelers, the caravans that have been passing through deserts know very well where the true oases are and where there are only ephemeral oases. But to the new traveler, it is impossible to make a distinction; they look exactly the same. The desert creates such an illusory reality, and because of your thirst you tend to believe in it. If you hadn’t been thirsty, you might not have believed. You would have suspected, doubted, you would have questioned. But you were so thirsty that this was not the time to disbelieve in the oasis.
To disbelieve in the oasis is simply to accept death because of thirst. You are so thirsty you start trusting, believing in that which is just created by the rays of the sun, reflected from the sand of the desert. When the rays reflect back, they move, they shimmer – just as water shimmers. Those shimmering rays going back to the sun create the illusion of water. In those shimmering rays a kind of mirror effect is created, and because of that mirror effect anything that is around it is reflected. This mirage is another meaning of maya. The world as seen by Shankara, by Hegel, by Bradley is rejected as only appearance, not authentically true. It is as true as a dream, but not more than that.
There is another school of philosophers. In India, the greatest of that school is Brihaspati. In Greece, the greatest of this other school is Epicurus and in Europe, Karl Marx. These three are representative of materialism. They say just the opposite. They say matter is the only reality and consciousness is illusory: what you see as objects, material – that is the only true world. Your body is true, but you are not true. Your consciousness is only an ephemeral effect, a by-product, just like the mirage in the desert.
It’s strange that these two philosophies have always existed side by side. And strangely, neither a single materialist has ever crossed the line to become a spiritualist nor vice versa – they remain parallel. Not a single person has been convinced by the arguments of the other. My own standpoint is beyond both. I can see that both are too attached to one gestalt.
One is saying that the young woman is real and the old woman is just false. The other is saying the old woman is real and the young woman is just false. But as far as I am concerned, the young woman and the old woman are not separate. Either both are true or both are untrue, because they are made of the same lines. If you deny that the old woman is real, take away all the lines that make the old woman and you will find the young woman has also disappeared. Or vice versa: if you think the old woman is real, then take away the unreal young woman’s lines and the old woman will disappear. They are really two ways of seeing the same reality.
To me there is no division. To me it is a question of transcending the duality of parallel lines, of not getting caught up in any gestalt, but going beyond both gestalts and seeing, as a witness, the matter and the mind – and that you are far away from both. Then a new world of luxury, a new world of grace, a new world of magnificence opens up.
What you are saying is immensely important. Your question is one of those few questions which everybody has to understand because everybody will have to encounter the reality implied in the question. You are saying, “Sitting with you, a feeling of magnificence and utter luxuriousness, which feels so different from material luxury, keeps on arising in me.” Trust in it. Settle more and more deeply in it because you are on the right path. What is happening to you, sitting here with me in communion, is just your own inner world opening.
If you love me and you trust me, then there is no need to keep your heart closed. There is no need to keep your defenses up, there is no need to keep a distance, there is no need to have any fear. If love cannot destroy your fear, if trust cannot take away your security measures, then it is not worth calling it love, it is not worth calling it trust. The whole experience of being with a living master is that the disciple slowly, slowly relaxes, drops all his defenses – there is nobody who is going to hurt him – and because there is no fear, he starts coming closer.
The whole world lives in fear, in such deep fear that we have created hidden defense mechanisms. For example: in the West, people shake hands and it is thought to be a friendly gesture. It is not! It was basically out of fear that people started shaking hands with the right hand. The right hand is dangerous – you may be carrying a weapon. It is better to shake hands and be completely sure that the other is not carrying any weapon. It is a very strange world – shaking hands was a gesture of enmity not of friendship. That’s why the left hand is not used in shaking hands because the right hand is your active hand. If you are carrying something dangerous, it will be in your right hand.
In the East, people were more alert and conscious because they were more cowardly than in the West. The whole philosophy of nonviolence has made them cowardly. They have found an even better way. When you shake hands you come too close. Coming too close is dangerous, as even the left hand can be used to wound you, to shoot you.
Unfortunately there are “leftists” and their number is not small – ten percent of the whole population. Most of them have been forced to use their right hands. That’s why you don’t see so many left-handed people because in school the teachers force them saying, “Write with your right hand; the right hand is right and the left hand is wrong.” And they become a laughingstock. So the children start using their right hand, although it is difficult for them because they were born “leftist.” But slowly, slowly, if you try, the right hand starts working. It will never be as good as that of the born “rightists.” It will always remain secondary. But in a right-handed world, what can you do?
Ninety percent of people are right-handed. Only ten percent of people are left-handed. They are such a small minority that most of them disappear into the right-handed crowd. Very few remain left-handed their whole life. It needs a little individuality, it needs a little courage to declare, “If my left hand is active, I am not going to unnecessarily force the right hand on my nature.” But there are very few people who will take that stand against the whole of society.
Coming too close is dangerous, but still the left hand is left out. It can carry a small knife and that may be enough to kill you. The East has found a better way. Rather than shaking hands, it puts both hands together, to show you that both hands are empty, and there is no need to come very close. You are there, I am here, you are showing that both your hands are empty, I am showing that both my hands are empty.
Slowly, slowly in the East it took on not only a meaning of friendliness, but even a meaning of spirituality, “We are bowing down with folded hands to the godliness within you.” But the reality was just the opposite. It was a defense measure to make you aware, “I am not your enemy, I also want assurance that you are not my enemy.” But you still keep your distance. Who knows? The person may be hiding a knife in his clothes, he may not show it in his hands. And it has happened; it is not that it is only a fear.
Even great kings, hugging another king – as if in deep friendship and love – have killed. When they were hugging, they were also carrying a knife, a small knife in their hands. And it was enough – if you wound the person in the right place, you can kill him even with a small knife. There are many cases on record. So-called great emperors and kings have behaved in such an ugly way, inviting another king as a friend and then killing him. If emperors can do that, what about ordinary people?
I am just telling you one example – there are of course many more – of a defense that you use without knowing it, which has just been handed down by the older generation.

My grandfather used to have a dog and he never went anywhere without the dog. Even if he was going to a marriage ceremony, to a party, he went with his dog. His dog would be sitting by his side. I would be sitting by his other side.
I said, “This looks very bad: I am reduced to the category of your dog! When you want me to come with you, at least you can leave your dog at home.”
He said, “You are too young to understand.”
I said, “When will I be old enough so that I can understand? Just tell me. I have been listening to everyone: ‘You are too young.’ Always too young. When will I be able to understand?”
He said, “That’s a good point. In fact, we use this strategy just to avoid unnecessary inquiries.”
So I said, “Just tell me today. I’m old enough to understand.”
He said, “The reality is I always take my dog with me if I am invited to eat food anywhere. First I give it to the dog. Unless I’m sure that there is no poison…”
I said, “You are taking it too seriously. Who is going to poison you?”
He said, “You don’t know. I have seen people poisoned.”

I now realize that he was right. After I was poisoned myself, I remembered the old man – he was right. If I had had a dog with me… But I am not allowed to have a dog. That is the difficulty, my doctors don’t allow it. They say I am allergic. No defense at all!
And then when I read that Gautam Buddha was poisoned, and it was food poisoning… My grandfather was dead, but I thought if he had been alive, I would have gone to him and asked his forgiveness for laughing at him. If Gautam Buddha had had his dog with him…
You are living in a very murderous society, where every kind of crime is happening. Naturally man has learned to close himself from every side, out of sheer defense. But when you come to a master, there is no need to have any defense. And slowly, slowly, as you become more and more in tune with the master, your defenses drop – windows open, fresh breezes and fresh sunrays enter.
The master is not a master if he is not a fresh breeze. A master is not a master if he is not a sunrise to your being. A master is not a master if he does not come into your heart as a song, as a dance, as a celebration – there cannot be anything more luxurious, more graceful, more delicious.
Slowly, slowly you start learning a new lesson. It is not only to the master that you have to be open, you have to be open to the trees too; they are not going to harm you. You have to be open to the stars too; they are not going to harm you. This vast universe is here. You have just to be open to this whole universe and suddenly all the stars descend and come close to you, dancing within your heart. The trees start having a certain communication with you – and the flowers smile.
There are strange stories – I used to think they were only stories, but slowly, slowly my own experience told me that they were not stories.
About Mohammed the story is: when he was in the desert of Saudi Arabia, wherever he went a cloud always moved over his head. It seems to be very unlikely that clouds would be so sensitive. But every contemporary source… Mohammed is not very ancient, only fourteen hundred years have passed, not long. All contemporary sources of Mohammed describe this fact. Even people who were opposing him have described the miracle: “We may be in disagreement with his philosophy and religion but we cannot deny the fact; we have seen it with our own eyes. Wherever he goes in the desert, a cloud is always moving with him, giving him shade, always keeping him in the cool shade.”
About Gautam Buddha there are stories. Perhaps they are historical facts. Perhaps one day – sooner than you think – science is going to authenticate these stories, which up to now have been thought to be only mythological. It is said that when Gautam Buddha sat under a tree – just to rest – even if it was not the season, flowers would immediately blossom, and many flowers would shower on Gautam Buddha.
As scientists understand more and more about the sensitivity of trees, it seems possible that the openness of Gautam Buddha may have had a deep effect on the very heart of the tree. Even the poor tree could not resist the temptation to welcome Gautam Buddha with a few flowers, although it was not the season.
This whole existence can become a luxury. You just have to learn the art of being open.

In the university where I was teaching for almost nine years, there was a long row of trees between two university buildings: one for the arts faculty, the other for the science faculty. Between these two buildings there was this row of very beautiful trees. They gave deep shade, and in the summer they had so many flowers – red flowers – that the trees seemed to be on fire. When there are hundreds of these trees, it looks as if the whole forest is on fire. So many flowers come to them simultaneously that you cannot see the leaves anymore, just flowers, such beautiful flowers.
There were at least two dozen trees between the two buildings and just a small road joining them. The idea must have been to cover that small road with these lush, green, beautiful trees – cover the whole road between the two buildings – so that there would be shade, even in the hottest summer.
No one knows what happened. When I joined the university all the trees were alive. I had chosen the most beautiful tree to park my car under. Nobody was parking their car there because a parking lot was available on the other side of the building. I was even told that this was not the place to park.
I said, “Unless you show me any ordinance from the university that I cannot park my car under this tree, I am going to park my car there. Even if I have to leave the university, I will leave, but I’m going to park here as long as I am part of the university.”
The vice-chancellor understood, “It is unnecessary to quarrel with this man. He may resign just for this reason, and there is no harm. Let him park there.”
It was just outside his office – he could see me and my car from his window. My idea to park the car there had a reason. Because I was mostly out of town without leave, I told my chauffeur, “Every day at eleven thirty, before the vice-chancellor comes to the university at around twelve, park my car under the tree. That will keep him thinking that I am in the university. And just after he leaves you can drive the car back home.”
It was because of his window that I had chosen that tree. He was not aware of the fact that it was really the window not the tree. I kept insisting, “I love this tree and I will keep my car under this tree as long as I am in this university.” And he used to look out of his window and remained happy, thinking that I was in the university.
Slowly, slowly some kind of disease happened to those trees. All the trees died, except the tree I was parking my car under. All the other trees died completely: they were without leaves, barren, and new leaves never came. The vice-chancellor was very much surprised.
One day, when I was parking the car, he came to the window and called me, waved to me and said, “It is very strange. I am sorry I was preventing you from parking your car. Not only me, but many people feel that it is just because of you and your car that this tree has remained alive. All the other trees have died, not a single exception, just your tree.”
It had become known as my tree. Nobody else dared to park his car there; everybody knew that it was my tree. And the vice-chancellor himself said, “I am sorry that I was preventing you. If you had listened to me, this tree also would have died. And it is the only tree I can see from my window.” I myself did not think that it had anything to do with me.
Then I left the university. After two years I went back again, just to meet the vice-chancellor, my friends and colleagues. I was passing through the city and I thought…
When I went there, I saw that my tree had also died. I also became a little suspicious – perhaps the vice-chancellor and those other people were right. When I reached his office he reminded me. He said, “I knew it would happen. The day you resigned I looked at the tree and I felt that it was going to happen. And within three months – just three months – the tree died.”

I had left the tree absolutely young, a luscious green, full of flowers. Perhaps there was something happening in the being of the tree: some love, some trust, some opening, some friendliness.
Modern researchers say that trees are more sensitive than human beings. They go through the whole range of emotions: fear, love, anger, compassion. They go through all these emotions far more deeply than human beings.
So it is not only a question of being open to a master. It is really a question of being open. The master is only an excuse. Use the master as an excuse, so that you can learn the language of trust, the language of openness, the language of communion with existence. Then you will find that your life will become inwardly rich – every day more and more. And you will find a grace in your being that you were never aware was possible.
I am in favor of this luxury, this richness. People have always misunderstood me – perhaps that is my destiny. I have been condemned all around the world as the guru of the rich. If understood in my sense, I am certainly the master of the richest, the most sensitive, the most loving, the most luxurious people in the world. But those who have been condemning me, they are condemning not in my sense. They cannot even understand that inner luxury is possible. To them luxury means outside things; richness means money. But to my people it has to mean the inner, always the inner. Whatever I am saying is for the inner, not for the outer.
On the outside, there is nothing of much value, just the mundane world, with all kinds of greed, struggle, competitiveness, violence. The outside is ugly. I would like the outside also to be beautiful and rich and luxurious, but it can happen only when the inside has changed. The first and the foremost change has to be inner. The outer will follow.

A shipwrecked sailor, who has been living alone on an island for five years, wakes up one morning to see a ship anchored close by and a small boat coming toward the shore.
He races to the beach and is greeted by an officer who steps out of the boat and hands him a packet of newspapers.
“What are these for?” he asks, amazed.
“With the captain’s compliments, sir,” replies the officer. “He suggests that you read what the newspapers say about the world first and then tell us if you still want to be rescued.”

What do you think: did the man decide to be rescued or not? I have been thinking about him, but I cannot imagine that he decided to be rescued. If you read five years of newspapers, the only conclusion will be to get rid of this world. It is not worth living. It is not worth being with these people. As far as I am concerned I have forgotten the world of the newspapers completely.
I have found my people. I have found my world. I have found a small planet of my own, where love is the only law, where laughter is prayer, where dancing is divine, where every moment is sacred, and where to be natural is the only spirituality. Because I could manage to find my people, I am alive. Otherwise, I would have managed long ago to be crucified by all kinds of idiots, who are always willing… They would have been very happy and I would have been very happy because it does not seem to be worth living in this world. And what I have done is very difficult, is almost unprecedented: finding my own kind of people who can understand me, who can have a rapport with my innermost being. Otherwise there is nothing but misunderstanding in the world.

A very proper Englishman goes into a bar one night, sits down, but does not order a drink. The bartender, an unusually friendly guy, asks him if he would like a drink on the house.
The Englishman shakes his head.
“I tried liquor once,” he said. “Did not like it.”
Still trying to be friendly, the bartender asks him if he would like to join a couple of the boys for a few hands of poker.
The Englishman shakes his head. “Tried gambling once,” he says, “didn’t like it. In fact, I would not be sitting in this place at all, but I promised my son I would meet him here.”
“I see,” says the bartender. “Your only child, I assume.”

Because he tries everything only once and then – finished!

Osho,
Watching your people arrive in larger numbers every day makes me feel so humble, and full of joyful tears, knowing that we all have this one thing in common: our love for you.
It is such a gift to be just one of all these loving smiles who sit at your feet each day in Chuang Tzu.
Osho, again and again, thank you for being here.
Jivan Mary, I am reminded…

Mulla Nasruddin was coming home. The sun had set. There was still some light, but it was getting darker every moment. He was passing by the side of the graveyard when he saw, far away, a few people coming on horses. He could make out that they had swords. He immediately concluded that there was danger: “It seems my last moment has come.”
So he jumped over the wall of the graveyard and there was a freshly-dug grave. To avoid the dangers that were coming, he lay down in the grave, closed his eyes and stopped breathing.
But those people had already seen this fellow, and they also saw him jump over the wall. They thought, “He seems to be a thief or something.”
It was a marriage party, and in many places in the East – particularly Mohammedan countries – when people go to a marriage party, they go on their horses and carry their swords.
This again reminds me of shaking hands. In the beginning, the marriage party was really a party of enemies who were going to force some family at the point of a sword to give their daughter to their son. It was not a friendly affair. In the beginning, marriage was an invention, a question of conquering, forcing a certain family, whether they were willing or not; it was a power struggle. This must have happened thousands of years ago, but even now the marriage party still carries swords.
In India, being a very nonviolent country, the whole marriage party does not carry swords. The man who is going to be married doesn’t carry a sword, but a small knife – just symbolic.
I have asked many of my friends when they were getting married, “Why do you go on carrying that small knife? I don’t see any point in it.”
They said, “Neither do we see any point in it, but traditionally…”
I said, “At least you should have inquired. There must have been some reason, some time back.”
Then I told them, “This is just the last remnant of a historical fact. Thousands of years ago, women were thought to be commodities and they had to be conquered. There was no other way except force. It is ugly to carry these knives because they are symbolic of that old, primitive, barbaric stage.”
They said, “But our parents, family, everybody will be very annoyed and even the other party will not like it. They have also forgotten that this is a symbol of antagonism, not a symbol of any friendship or love.”
It was a marriage party, but Mulla thought, “So many swords, there is danger.”
And those people thought, “This man seems to be a thief or something. Suddenly, when he saw us, he jumped over the wall.”
So they all came nearer, jumped over the wall and looked all around – “Where has that man disappeared to?”
Mulla was looking at them silently. Because one cannot continue to stop one’s breathing, once in a while he was breathing and then watching to see what would finally happen.
Finally they walked all around the grave and they saw that this was not the way a man had to be buried. He was uncovered, fully dressed, had his shoes on, even his umbrella with him. They had never seen a dead body carrying an umbrella, wearing shoes, and then lying like this. The cold night was coming… Who were the people who had left the body uncovered?
Mohammedans don’t make graves like Christians, their graves are just pure mud. They just pour the mud on top of it, that’s enough. They are poor people. They cannot manage to have marble – at the most a small stone on which they put the name of the person, that’s all.
But what kind of thing was this? When they looked closely, they saw that once in a while the body was breathing. When they were all surrounding him silently, Mulla opened one eye. They could not believe what kind of fellow he was, and they were very angry.
They asked him, “Why are you here?”
Mulla said, “I can ask you the same question. Why are you here? Perhaps you don’t know the answer, so I will answer from both sides. I am here because of you! You are here because of me!”

Jivan Mary, I am here because of you. You are here because of me. It is absolutely irrational, but truth is truth!
You have not asked any question, so I decided that, since for many days I have not given you any sutras to meditate on, I should use this great opportunity that Jivan Mary has given me.
A few sutras for her, for all of you, to meditate on…

A woman who looks like a dream usually gives a man insomnia.
Some people sleep with one eye open; others wake with both eyes shut.
If at first you don’t succeed, try someone else.
Two is company, three is the result.
The best way to make your dreams come true is to wake up.
Sometimes the best way to liven up the party is to leave.
It is better to be in the missionary position than never to have any religion at all.
The only time most people look like their passport photographs is during a hijack.
In these days of jet travel, the only journeys that take a long time are the ones from your house to the airport.
A husband who gets his breakfast in bed is in hospital.
Married life is like sitting in a bathtub – after a while, it is not so hot.
Marriage is like a violin. After the beautiful music is over, the strings are still attached.
Nobody is ever satisfied. Poor men wish they were rich, rich men wish they were handsome, bachelors wish they were married, and married men wish they were dead.
The fastest way to discover your bad habits is to move in with your lover.
God gave black men rhythm because he made such a mess of their hair.
And the last:
Sex is the most fun you can have without laughing.

---