Sat Chit Anand 26

TwentySixth Discourse from the series of 30 discourses - Sat Chit Anand by Osho.
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Enjoying life seems to be the only thing I do, and I forget that I am a seeker. But when I think about it, a question arises: What am I seeking for?
Enjoying life is in itself a beautiful experience, but it is not enough. All the religions of the world have condemned it. Their condemnation has created a guilt feeling. So even though people are enjoying life, deep down they are feeling that they are doing something wrong, something they should not do. So their enjoyment remains halfhearted. They are in a deep split, a kind of schizophrenia. Part of them is pulling them away from the enjoyment and part of them is pulling them toward it. It becomes a very subtle tension.
But according to me, enjoying life in its totality and intensity is the very foundation of finding the higher and the ultimate significance of life. Enjoyment is blind, hence even if you are enjoying life, deep down a question remains: What is the significance of all this enjoyment? That’s from where seeking arises: a desire to find the meaning. Is “Eat, drink and be merry” all there is?
There have been two traditions in the world. One consists of those who are life-negative, life condemners, life poisoners. They have been in the majority, because most people love the negative. To condemn anything is very easy. To criticize anything is very easy. But to appreciate anything needs intelligence.
There is a beautiful story by Turgenev, The Fool.

A sage came to a village where the village idiot was condemned by everybody; the moment he opened his mouth people would start laughing, expecting him to say something stupid. The poor man came to the sage and told him about his misery, that he was the laughingstock of the whole village. As far as possible he kept completely quiet, but even his quietness was condemned: “Look at that idiot. He thinks that we are all fools who are talking and he is something spiritual; being silent, meditative!”
“If I talk, I am condemned; if I don’t talk, I am condemned. Show me the way to get out of this miserable state.”
The sage said, “I will tell you the secret. And after one month I will be coming back; then you can tell me what happened in this month.”
The secret was very simple. The secret was: “Do not say anything on your own account, but whenever somebody says something, immediately criticize. If somebody says “Look, how beautiful is the full moon,” don’t miss the opportunity. Immediately say “What is beautiful in it? Prove what is beautiful in it. Do you know what beauty is?”
“It is very difficult to define it. Everybody knows that the full moon is beautiful. But perhaps you have never asked yourself ‘Do you know what beauty is?’ And if you don’t know what beauty is, how can you say anything is beautiful? The statement that something is beautiful implies that you know the definition of beauty. So immediately jump in and ask ‘What is the definition of beauty?’”
Not even the greatest philosophers who have been thinking all their lives about beauty and nothing else, like Croce who has written volumes upon beauty, end up with anything definable. The whole effort, hundreds of pages, and the conclusion is that it is indefinable.
“Just go on this way. If somebody says ‘That man is very virtuous,’ immediately ask ‘What is virtue? How do you know, on what grounds, what authority?’
“Never make any statement of your own, so nobody can criticize you. And you go on criticizing everybody, don’t miss a single opportunity, and ask for a definition.”
After one month the sage came back and the idiot fell at his feet and said, “Your secret has done miracles. Now I am supposed to be the wisest man in my village. In just one month!”

To negate needs not much intelligence. To affirm needs tremendous intelligence. So there has been a majority tradition of condemners. That is the easiest way to prove yourself superior. They condemn everything, they condemn the whole world. There has been a small stream of affirmers also, but they are looked upon in a very derogatory way. These are the materialists. The majority thinks itself spiritualist. Yet there is a small stream which says: “Eat, drink and be merry. This is all. There is nothing else to seek and search for.”
My situation is a little complex. I accept the materialist as far as he is saying eat, drink and be merry. But I deny that this is all there is. I accept the spiritualist’s search for something higher, but I refute the spiritualist for his condemnation of life, enjoyment, the small joys of life. I am a materialist-spiritualist. Begin with this very earth and rise up to the sky, to the highest stars. This is one single universe. There are not two universes, one materialist and one spiritualist. Matter and spirit are continuously meeting with each other, dancing hand in hand.
You have to be a materialist to begin with. But don’t stop there. That is only a beginning. The second thing that will make your journey complete is the search for significance. Otherwise every enjoyment is going to become boredom sooner or later. If you don’t know the significance, if you don’t know the eternal meaning of life, if you simply live superficially… I am not saying it is evil, I am saying it is incomplete. It is getting lost in the very beginning; it is very superficial.
Life has depths beyond depths, and unless you reach to the very bottom and touch something eternal, you will not know the significance of existence, the splendor and the glory and the abundance of blessings. Your enjoyment will pay well for a long time. But then you will know that eat, drink and be merry was not enough. It was good enough, but not enough.
So I affirm materialism, I affirm spiritualism, because to me your body and your soul are not two separate existences. Matter and spirit are just two aspects of one energy. I accept the whole of life, body and soul, matter and spirit, this world and the beyond all together as one single organic whole.
To me the really holy man is one who accepts the whole without denying anything. The materialist denies the spirit. The spiritualist denies matter – both are in some way denying. Neither is a holy man. The holy man is one who accepts the whole without any denial. The whole orchestra of existence – different instruments, but they are all playing the same music, the same significance, the same glory.
You are saying, “Enjoying life seems to be the only thing I do.” Nothing is wrong in it, it is a good beginning. But soon you will get fed up with it. How long can you enjoy the mundane things of existence? Just try to enjoy anything, then repeat it.
I have told you the story of Mulla Nasruddin. It is a Sufi story.

Mulla was appointed the adviser of the emperor. The first day he was sitting with the emperor at his dining table and the cook had made stuffed bhindis. The king liked them very much and Mulla Nasruddin said, “Your liking is supported by all the wise people of the past. Those who know about vegetables say that bhindi is the ultimate in vegetables; it cures all diseases; it keeps you healthy, young; it gives you a longer life. It is very good that you like it.”
The cook heard everything. He thought, “My God, I never thought that bhindi was such a miraculous thing.”
So, next day he prepared bhindi again, and Mulla Nasruddin praised it again. On the third day he again prepared bhindi. On the sixth day the king threw the plate away and shouted at the cook, “Have you gone mad? I am bored with this bhindi. Can’t you find any other vegetable? Have I to live my whole life eating bhindi?”
Mulla Nasruddin immediately said, “There are many critics who say that bhindi is very dangerous to life, to youth. It brings all kinds of diseases. Old age comes sooner and death is a tremendously painful thing.”
The king said, “Up to now you have been praising it. It is because of your praise that the poor cook has been cooking it every day. And now suddenly you have changed.”
Mulla said, “Listen, I am your servant. I am not the servant of bhindis. I don’t know anything about bhindi. But if you like bhindi, I will appreciate it. You pay me, I am your servant. If you throw the plate of bhindis away, I will condemn them.”

Just look at your enjoyments. You fall in love with a woman or a man. How long does it remain? Before the honeymoon is over it is finished. Now you are wondering how to get out of it. Your enjoyments cannot give you a meaningful life, they are very superficial. I am not against them; that you have to remember. Once in a while bhindi is okay, but to think that it is everything is dangerous.
You are saying, “…and I forget that I am a seeker.” You will miss the opportunity. Enjoy life, but remain watchful. All that a seeker needs is a certain awareness that follows him like a shadow. Whatever you are doing, just remain alert.
The English word sin is very significant. Not in the way Christians interpret it, not according to the dictionaries – because they have been influenced by the religions – but according to its original roots. The word sin simply means forgetfulness. And that gives a totally new dimension to the word – a beauty. It is nothing for which you can be thrown into hell. It is something that you can influence. It is not concerned with any action in particular; it is concerned with your awareness.
To be aware is to be virtuous; to remain in unawareness is the only sin. You may be doing good things without awareness. But those good things are no longer good because they come out of darkness, unconsciousness, blindness. And as far as awareness is concerned, a man who is full of awareness, alert, cannot do anything wrong. It is intrinsically impossible.
Awareness brings so much clarity, so much perception, so much understanding that it is impossible to do anything that can be harmful to anyone. It is impossible to interfere with somebody’s freedom or somebody’s life. You can only be a blessing to existence, nothing else. So to forget that you are a seeker is dangerous. It is falling into sin. This is the only sin I accept as sin.
You are also saying, “But when I think about it, a question arises: What am I seeking for?” The seeking is not for anything, the seeking is to know the seeker, who you are. There are two kinds of seeking: one is for money, for power, for prestige, for name, for fame, for anything outside you. That is not our seeking. That is not the seeking which can take you to higher states of consciousness and being. It is a totally different kind of seeking.
The first seeking goes forward, outward. It is objective. You are a seeker of the inner, of the subjective. Your search is for yourself. You don’t know who you are. And not to know oneself is such an ignorance, such an indignity, such a self-insult, that no man who has a little understanding can forget about it.
Just a little intelligence and you will agree with Socrates and all those great people who have been telling you “Know thyself, be thyself,” because without knowing yourself, you cannot be yourself. You will never come to a flowering. Your roses will remain unexpressed. Your fragrance will not be released to existence. Do you want to remain just a seed? Or do you want to grow with great green foliage and beautiful roses? Unless your roses dance in the sun, in the wind, in the rain, you have not known how much of life was hidden. It is almost like an iceberg. Only one part you see, nine times more is hidden underneath in the water. You know yourself only in a small way.
Because you know yourself only in a small way, you remain small. You can know yourself in a greater way. And the way that opens all the doors of your being, all the mysteries, all the secrets, will make you part of this vast universe. You will be as big as the ocean. There is no need to remain a dewdrop.

Rachel had lived a good life, marrying four times, and now she is standing before the Pearly Gates.
Father Abraham checks her file and says, “I notice that you first married a banker, then an actor, then a rabbi and lastly an undertaker. What kind of system is that for a respectable Jewish woman?”
“A very good system,” replies Rachel. “One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready and four to go!”

If this is going to be your only way of living, your style of life, your system, your philosophy, then enjoyment is enough. But not to know oneself is to deprive oneself of tremendous significance. Not to know oneself is to keep oneself away from the godliness of this cosmos. Not to know oneself is the ugliest thing that can happen to anyone.
Please remember, you are a seeker not for something, but for yourself.

What is it that divides me?
Prem Pankaja… Just a day ago I had answered her, “Don’t keep your umbrella open, because I go on showering on you and you go on protecting yourself.” So poor Pankaja has sent her umbrella to me. But this is not the umbrella I meant. What am I supposed to do with this umbrella? It was only a symbol, I never meant your real umbrella. This you can take back. You may need it.
When I say umbrella I mean all your defense measures. You are defending yourself. That’s what keeps you divided. On the one hand you want to go whole-heartedly into the search for your own being, on the other hand you are afraid to go totally. You have other interests, other investments, and if you go totally into the search for your own being, you wonder what will happen to your other investments.
For example, she is a novelist. She is always afraid that if she goes deeper into meditation, her so-called creativity for writing third-class novels will disappear. That is certain. It will disappear because as your meditations deepen, you will not be able to write those trashy novels. That does not mean your creativity will disappear. Your creativity will be refined. Perhaps you will write something really great, something that becomes part of the great literature of the world.
Whatever you have written up to now is just like the daily newspaper. After one reading you just have to throw it away. You wait for it every morning so eagerly and after ten minutes it is useless. Not so is the case with Fyodor Dostoevsky’s novels or Leo Tolstoy’s or Maxim Gorky’s. They will remain as long as man is on this planet. They will remain super-creations of human consciousness. Their beauty, their peaks, are such that you cannot finish them in one reading. You will have to read them again and again. And each time you read them, you will find new meanings, new depths, new significances. What keeps you divided is that you don’t understand there are higher categories of creativity.

I am reminded of one of the great Indian painters, Avanendranath Tagore. He was a nephew of Rabindranath Tagore. Rabindranath became world famous because of the Nobel Prize. Avanendranath is not known so much because he was a painter, but India has never known such a painter. Each painting is unique. He had a student who became an even greater painter than Avanendranath. This disciple’s name was Nandlal Bose.
And one day it happened… Avanendranath and Rabindranath were of the same age, although Avanendranath was a nephew to Rabindranath. They were very friendly and they were discussing something, when just then Nandlal came to show his master something he had painted.
In Bengal, where these people happened to be, there is a certain class of painter. They are very poor people, but traditionally they paint only one thing and that is pictures of Krishna. In Bengal people love Krishna, and from generation to generation a certain class has been doing only one thing: painting beautiful paintings of Krishna. But they are poor people, and their paintings are sold very cheaply.
On this occasion, Nandlal had also made a picture of Krishna. Krishna’s birthday was coming close and he wanted to show it to his master. Rabindranath, who was present, could not believe his eyes: Nandlal had done such a superb painting. He had seen thousands of paintings of Krishna, but he could not remember any painting that could be compared to it. Even Avanendranath had painted Krishna and his painting of Krishna was hanging on the wall of his sitting room. Rabindranath looked at both the paintings: Avanendranath’s painting was not comparable to Nandlal Bose’s. The disciple had defeated the master.
This was the first surprise. And the second thing that happened was even more surprising and shocking. Avanendranath took the painting, looked at it, threw it out of the door and told Nandlal, “You idiot, you don’t know how to paint. You should go and learn from those poor people.” The caste of the people who paint Krishna’s pictures is called patia and in those days their pictures were sold at the most for four annas, which is one fourth of a rupee. To tell to Nandlal to go to the patias and learn how to paint Krishna was very humiliating.
Rabindranath had never seen Avanendranath so angry. Deep in his mind he thought that perhaps he was feeling jealous because Nandlal’s painting was far superior to his own painting. Rabindranath himself was a great painter in his own right; he could judge perfectly well.
Nandlal touched the feet of Avanendranath and disappeared. For two years nothing was heard of him. Rabindranath told Avanendranath many times, “What you have done is absolutely absurd. You know perfectly well that he has defeated you.”
Avanendranath said, “I know it. The moment I saw his painting, I immediately could see that one of my disciples is going to carry my tradition far ahead of me. But if I had accepted his painting, he would have stopped. I can see much more potential in him. I had to reject that great painting.”
After Nandlal had left, Avanendranath took the painting inside, cleaned it, removed his own painting from his sitting room wall and put Nandlal’s painting there. There were tears in his eyes.
Rabindranath said, “It is a strange drama. What is the need of all this?”
He said, “You don’t understand. I love Nandlal. I cannot accept that this is his whole potential. He has much more potential and I have to hit him hard to bring all his resources into flowering.”
After two years Nandlal came back. He looked just like those beggar painters of Bengal. He had lived amongst them, painted like them, learned their art; whatever the master said, he did. And finally he painted another painting of Krishna and he could see the difference. The first painting was great, but this was far greater. It was almost three-dimensional. It was as if Krishna was going to come out of the painting at any moment, it was so alive. He was full of gratitude toward his master who had insulted him.
This can happen only in the East. It is not possible in the West. The West does not know many dimensions of love. It is unaware. Avanendranath’s behavior was out of love, out of great trust, and Nandlal understood it. He touched the feet of the master before he disappeared. For two years he moved all over Bengal, searching for any painter with whom he could sit and learn his art. And when he came back after two years, he brought this second painting. People could not believe he was the same man, he had become so thin. He could not earn much because he was living with poor people. And he was also selling his paintings at the same cost.
When Avanendranath looked at his painting, he ran to Rabindranath’s house. They both lived in the same university that Rabindranath had founded in Shanti Niketan, the House of Peace. It is a university on its own, unique in the whole world, where beauty is God, where painting and music and dance are rated far higher than physics, chemistry or mathematics. These sciences are taught, but they are not thought to be the highest creations of man. They are lower, mundane. They can produce things, but they cannot create.

I am telling you this story, Pankaja, because you need not be afraid of losing your creativity. This is not the place where you are going to lose anything that is significant. Yes, you will lose many things which are false in you: your personality, your ego. But you will not lose anything that has any sincerity, that has any authenticity behind it. That is part of your real being. That will grow.
In this garden, your reality, your truth, your consciousness, your bliss are going to grow. Yes, many things will disappear which need to disappear and you are clinging to those things. That is creating a division. You are becoming more schizophrenic, more a split personality. You are half here and half not here, and I need you to be totally here.

A man was very embarrassed about his small prick. So one day he decided to go to the doctor for a new one.
“We have three sizes for you to choose from,” began the doctor. “We have the regular six-inch model, then we have the super eight-inch classic, and last we have the ten-inch super deluxe.”
“Wow,” says the man. “I will go for the ten-inch super deluxe.” So the doctor went into the next room and brought out the ten inches for the man to look at.
“Well, doc,” says the man, “I love it. It is really great. But do you have it in white?”

People have artificial personalities. Everything seems to be artificial, synthetic. You cannot tell even whether the man sitting by your side is real or synthetic.
Just a few days ago in Japan… Japan is the only country right now which is using robots instead of men in their factories. A robot can work for twenty-four hours without getting tired; it can work seven days a week without creating any trouble – no strikes or labor unions. Hundreds of robots, mechanical men, are working. And their work is more efficient than men’s. Their productivity is immense. Where a hundred people were working, just one robot is enough. So they are very cheap.
A few weeks ago a strange thing happened which scientists have not been able to explain. If it goes on happening again and again, perhaps they will have to remove all the robots. In one factory, for no reason at all… And it is not expected of robots because they are completely planned from the very beginning. They cannot do other than what they are built for. They have an inbuilt program that directs them. But without any inbuilt program, a few robots in one factory simply killed six men. All they have to do is to give a man a good hug and he is gone, because these are steel people. They look like human beings, but they are made of steel. As they were not programmed for it, how did they come to figure out that hugging was needed?
One of my sannyasins in New York runs a hugging therapy, where the whole work is to hug each other, and go on hugging till you get tired and fed up. Then you will never think of hugging anybody again in your life. He is a little crazy, but he finds crazy clients who pay him just to do this stupid act of hugging each other until they are tired and finished, and many feel that they have been helped immensely; they have been cured of their desire to hug. In New York everything is possible. But suddenly these robots learned the hugging therapy and they picked up poor human beings who were just passing by, hugged them and finished them.
The scientists who created those robots are simply shocked. It is a very difficult problem. If these people start doing things on their own, they can do anything. They can create havoc in society, they can run in the streets, they can stop cars. They can do anything. If they can hug, everything is possible. It is good they did not kiss. But they could do.
And the people who write science fiction have already written that in the twenty-first century men will be slowly, slowly replaced by mechanical men, by robots – because they will never die. There is no way for them to die for the simple reason that all their parts are replaceable. If a hand goes wrong, it can be replaced; if their heart no longer functions, it can be replaced. They can be plugged into the electricity or they can be fitted with a battery, and they will look just like you. They can be taught to speak any language. Everything can be inbuilt in their heads, in their computers.
What science fiction says has every possibility of happening. Then you will not know whether you are falling in love with a real man or a robot. You will know only when the robot suddenly runs out of battery power. Only then you will know: “My God, this is a robot!” But call the technician and he will fix the battery and he will again be saying all sweet things to you, sweet nothings, “I love you.”
He just has to be programmed. He can be programmed with good dialogues from all the films, and songs to sing; he can dance, he can sing. Just stay aware that his battery is intact. It is no longer science fiction. In Japan it is already happening. There is so much false in you that if you become aware of it, you will come to a great revelation.
Pankaja, this revelation is still missing in you. You are too much of a head and you have trained yourself as an intellectual. Your whole life structure is based on intellect. Here you have to come down from the head to the heart. Nor is the heart the full stop of the journey. From the heart you have to come even deeper to the being, and from the being to the universal, cosmic, eternal life. The head is the farthest point from your real life. But your whole training goes against your real life. That is dividing you.
You will have to choose. If you choose your head, you choose a miserable life, superficial, meaningless, anxiety-ridden. But if you choose to get out of the head, then be more meditative, be more feelingful, be more of the heart, be more sensitive.
Whenever I look at Pankaja, I feel a deep sympathy for her. She is completely enclosed in the head. She has forgotten the way to the heart. She is a woman, hence it is not very difficult to find the heart again; for a man it is a little more difficult. He is naturally head-oriented. The woman is heart-oriented. So what Pankaja is suffering from is headache; she has to come down to the heartache, which is another name for love. It has been the same situation for many years. It is time for you, Pankaja, to decide. Either forget me completely and be at ease with your head and your superficial life, or take the risk. Sannyas is nothing but risking the known for the unknown, risking the false for the real. But you don’t know the real; you know only the false. And the trouble is, unless you drop the false you will not be able to see the real.
Hence a strange thing has been happening in the East of which the West is unaware, and that is a totally new dimension to love which we call trust, shraddha. If you can look into my eyes, trust me when I say you have a real self. Don’t be worried about risking the false. Of course, it has to be only on the grounds of trust. I cannot do anything to make you see the real, unless you drop the false.
You can drop the false only if you trust my word or you trust my eyes or you trust my presence. It is not belief. Belief is always in a certain doctrine, philosophy. Trust is personal, intimate, the highest quality of love, what the Zen people call the great love affair.
If you feel that what I am saying is not just borrowed knowledge but my own experience, then take a jump. It is not a big jump. If you can manage to take a jump from the real to the false, just think: from the false to the real is a very small jump. You are only losing that which you don’t have, and you are going to get that which is your reality.

This morning I suddenly realized that there is nothing interesting in women. Is it true?
I was expecting at least a dozen Germans to get angry at me – just the Germans. I love Germans. The majority of my sannyasins are Germans. And even the German government is afraid of me, knowing perfectly well that I have a certain grip on the German youth. It is not without reason that they have passed a law in their parliament that I cannot enter Germany, though I have never asked to enter. Not only that, I cannot land my jet on any German airport for refueling. Such great fear and such a brave race!
But I was waiting, and I was absolutely right. Not a single person from any other country – and people from almost every country of the world are present here – but only Germans were very angry. I had said, “I don’t see anything nice in man.” This was certainly said to provoke the Germans, and they got caught. They are simple fellows in a way; they could not see the device.
Veet Prayas is a German. I have chosen two representatives from twelve letters. Prayas is asking, “This morning I suddenly realized that there is nothing interesting in women.” This is his reaction.
Now I would like all the women in the ashram to boycott Prayas completely for seven days. Wherever any woman sees him, say to him, “Ooh-la-la,” not more than that. And within seven days he will start seeing everyone as beautiful, even in the ugliest woman. It will take seven days; for other people it would not take that much time.
Seeing the situation, one of my doctors, Swami Devageet, did a great research, finding out what is nice in man. He became so influenced that finally he decided he wants to change his name from Swami Devageet to Ma Devageet. This is his research – now I don’t know how to say it, whether to say he or she. At least in the beginning, I shall start with he, unless he declares that he has changed to Ma.
He is saying, “I have researched deeply into the knotty problem of men’s good points. It was not easy, but certain attributes have come to light. Men, it seems, are the best at:
putting out the garbage,
frightening small children,
piddling on the toilet seat,
carrying suitcases,
putting hair in the bathroom sink,
making babies,
making spaghetti,
shouting at rickshaw drivers,
leaving dirty underwear in the bedroom,
snoring in bed,
fancying everybody’s woman except their own,
grossing out people at breakfast time,
putting dirty footprints on the clean sheets,
falling asleep in the middle of lovemaking,
being unresponsive to any emotional situation,
providing the main topic for gossip,
giving women someone to henpeck,
paying the rent,
fixing things which are always worse afterward,
emptying the fridge at midnight,
breaking the best china,
leaving the bed unmade,
leaving the kitchen sink clogged with food.
But, most of all, men are the biggest pricks in the whole of humanity.”
The other sample that I have chosen, says:

I want to defend my male race. Existence gave man the capacity to fight against existence, to swim against the stream, to be a doer, to say no. Hearing you and your therapists, I tried to drop this and this effort to drop only gave me misery. I don't believe existence made me a man in order to become female without ever blossoming into the full potential of my maleness, of my mind. Please comment.
Swami Antar Mario, Germany is the only land in the whole world which is called the fatherland. Every other land is called the motherland. I said I love the German people, except for a small inheritance that they have been carrying for centuries – a male chauvinist idea of themselves. It has created two world wars and it may create the third. It is not new that Mario is saying, “I have to defend my male race.” This very idea of defending and the idea that he has to fight existence, he has to be a doer, he has to say no. Here, trying to drop effort, he has not been able to. He only became more miserable.
What kind of man are you, if you cannot drop effort? How are you going to defend the male race? Many women are dropping effort, and you cannot drop effort. You are defeated already. And why this fear of let-go, of going with the current? Why this fear of saying yes to existence? – just an ego trip.
It is one of the ugliest things in anyone, because it is the wall that prevents you from seeing beyond yourself. You are surrounded by a prison of your own and you cannot see beyond the walls, you don’t know the sky, you don’t know the stars, you don’t know that this whole existence is in a tremendous let-go. Everything is effortlessly moving. The trees are growing. Do you think they are making any effort to grow? The stars are moving with tremendous speed. Do you think they are making any effort? You are breathing. Do you think it is something to do with your effort? Your heart is beating. Is it something to do with you and your doing? If it was dependent on your doing, in sleep you would forget to breathe, you would forget the heart, whether it is beating or not. And then no chance… In the morning you would not even be able to remember that in the middle of the night you forgot to breathe. Once finished, finished. The whole of existence is in a tremendous let-go.
Adolf Hitler exploited the German race only because of this male chauvinistic mind. He himself was not a giant intellectual. He was a retarded schizophrenic, a psychologically sick person, but he impressed the whole German race with all kinds of stupid ideas. For example: Germany was not ruling over all the world because of the Jews. It is as absurd as to say that Germany is not ruling over all the world because of the bicycles. Unless we destroy bicycles, there is no chance for Germany to rule over the world. What have the poor Jews done? But he was convincing because he shouted loudly.
He organized big rallies which proved to people that they must be wrong, he must be right; he killed more people than anybody else in the whole history of man. But he is not responsible alone: every German is responsible. You supported him; you supported the very idea that you have to fight with existence to prove your manliness. You have to say no. But remember: a person who cannot say yes will always remain insane.
No belongs to death, yes belongs to life. Life is yes-saying. The deeper your yes, the deeper your surrender to existence, the greater is your bliss. Otherwise you become absolutely mechanical, like robots. And the very idea that you are special above any other race is simply nonsense. If Germany can drop this male chauvinistic attitude, can accept women as equal to men, not only will Germany be at ease and in peace, it will help the whole world to remain in peace. War can be dropped. Instead of war, more love, more friendliness, more joy can become our daily experience.

Helmut’s new car has just been delivered. So he offers to give a lift to some of his friends who are going to a wedding. Unfortunately he has not even been told how to start the car, so after he has finished bluffing for a while, he confesses his ignorance.
The others are also German, not too smart either, but luckily at least Herman can read. He reads out from a button near the steering wheel: “Push to start.” So they all get out to push.

A German traveling salesman has been on the road for weeks, when he sees a sign which reads: “Mother Murphy’s House of Pleasure, straight ahead.” He drives on a mile and the sign is repeated. This goes on every mile, until he reaches the last sign, which says: “You are here! This is it! Mother Murphy’s House of Pleasure!”
He is feeling pretty horny, so he pulls into the drive, where all he finds is a little wooden shack, but he decides to try it out.
He walks in and finds a little old lady sitting in a rocking chair. He apologizes and is beginning to leave, when she says, “You are in the right place, sonny. This is Mother Murphy’s. Just give me fifty bucks and go through that door over there.”
So he goes through the door and finds himself in the backyard, and the door locks behind him, so he can’t get back in. He is really angry, and looking around, he sees a small sign in the next field, so he goes over to read it. It says: “You have just been screwed by Mother Murphy.”

At least here, drop your German-ness; that is your disease. And it is not only about you. The Indians have to drop their Indian-ness; that is their disease. And the Italians have to drop their Italian-ness; that is their disease.
Nations are just man-made boundaries; races are stupid discriminations; religions are man-manufactured – and they are all dividing man against man. Sannyas is an effort to bring a new world into existence, where nobody is a German and nobody is an Indian and nobody is a Japanese; where nobody thinks that he is superior, where nobody thinks that women are inferior and slaves, where equality and equal opportunity to grow is simply accepted as natural.
I did not say that man has nothing to offer. He has much to offer. In fact all science, all technology is going to be man’s offering to existence, but man has to remember that the works of the intellect and reason are not his highest creations. The higher creations come from the heart, in songs, in music, in poetry, in dances. Unless you can celebrate, what use is all scientific progress? And without a woman there is no celebration.
You put a hundred men together and they will all be serious. Just bring one woman in and immediately all their eyes start sparkling, they become interested. Life starts being juicy; something is going to happen. Man without woman is half, and woman without man is half. They are part of one whole.
I did not say anything in favor of men because men have done so much wrong to women that now it is better not to say anything about men’s talents and genius. It is better to bring out the women’s genius and talents. It is simply a compensation. I know there are a few things which only men can do, and there are a few things which only women can do. That makes life more beautiful and more attractive. Between these two polarities, life becomes a magnetic pull. Between these two polarities of man and woman, many mysteries happen. The whole romance of life, the whole poetry of life, is because of the polarity of man and woman.
But man has ruled over women for millennia. He has been given every opportunity and chance and woman has been repressed continuously, has been crippled. She has not been allowed to compete shoulder to shoulder with man in life. That’s why we don’t know how many Gautam Buddhas on the women’s side did not get the opportunity to blossom. We don’t know how many Albert Einsteins have simply been denied any possibility for growth.
It is a very strange thing that even dimensions like poetry, music, dance are dominated by men. The greatest dancers in the world have been men, not women. In fact, women should have been ahead of any male dancer. But one needs opportunity. One needs education, one needs training. If you bar the whole of womankind from education, training, discipline, you are making the whole society and the whole world poor, unnecessarily poor. My emphasis is to give respect to women – and equality is not against men. It is a world which belongs to you both and you both have to be together to make it as beautiful and as divine as possible.
Man alone – look at your question, Mario – has been creating only wars. In three thousand years, five thousand wars. Is life just to fight? Is life just to kill, massacre, rape? Your whole history is full of murder and you call those murderers your great men. Alexander the Great… And you don’t see that small murderers are being jailed, sentenced to death, but big murderers become your heroes. It is because the woman has been completely cut off from contributing anything to life; otherwise there would not have been so many wars.
No woman is interested in war, it is simply against the feminine nature. She is interested in love, she is interested in a beautiful house, she is interested in a beautiful garden around the house. She is interested in small things, but those small things make life worth living. She is not interested in creating atomic weapons, nuclear missiles. She cannot understand what man goes on doing. Is he insane or something?
Half of humanity is dying of starvation and the politicians who are all men and the generals who are all men go on piling up nuclear weapons. They have already more than they need – seven hundred times more than they need to destroy this whole world. All that is living on the earth – trees, birds, animals, human beings, anything that is living – we have already seven hundred times more than enough material to destroy it. And still they go on piling it up. Do you think this is sanity when half the human race is dying of starvation?
This is happening because man alone has been contributing to existence. He has not the compassion of a woman; he has only the hardness of a man. He does not allow the softness of woman to influence world affairs. We need a very balanced life, in which the man and the woman contribute equally. Life will be more peaceful, more lovable, more joyous. It will become a tremendous celebration. And in that celebration, my hope is we will be able to go beyond the ordinary, mundane enjoyment into the cosmic bliss, into sat-chit-anand – into truth, into consciousness, into bliss.

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