RESPONSES TO QUESTIONS
The Goose is Out 10
Tenth Discourse from the series of 10 discourses - The Goose is Out by Osho.
You can listen, download or read all of these discourses on oshoworld.com.
The first question:
Osho,
I frequently hear a question being asked about the ashram…there is so much vitality here now and so much creativity with all these shows and music and fashions and crafts, as well as events happening abroad, that people are wondering what will happen when you are gone.
When you leave your body will the ashram become a dead institution, and will you just become deified and forgotten?
My concern is the immediate, this moment. Beyond this moment nothing exists. The only time that is existential is now, and the only space that matters is here. So I don’t care what happens in the future – neither the past nor the future have any validity.
But that is the way of the mind: the mind can only think in terms of past and future; the mind cannot experience the present; it deviates from the present continuously. The mind is like a pendulum: it moves to the left, far left, or to the right, far right. Either it is leftist or rightist – and my whole approach is to be exactly in the middle.
The word for the middle which Gautama the Buddha used is very beautiful: he called it majjim nikaya, “the way of the exact middle.” If you can keep the pendulum in the middle, the clock stops. The clock represents the mind – not only literally, not only as a metaphor; mind is time. Time consists of two tenses, not three. The present is not part of time; past is time, future is time. The present is the penetration of the beyond into the world of time.
You can think of time as a horizontal line. A is being followed by b, b is followed by c, c is followed by d, so on and so forth: it is a linear procession. Existence is not horizontal, existence is vertical. Existence does not move in a line – from a to b, from b to c – existence moves in intensity: from a to a deeper a, from the deeper a to even deeper a. It is diving into the moment.
Time conceived as past and future is the language of the mind – and the mind can only create problems – it knows no solutions. All the problems that humanity is burdened with are mind inventions. Existence is a mystery, not a problem. It has not to be solved, it has to be lived.
I am living my moment. I don’t care a bit what happens later on. It may look to you very irresponsible because my criterion of responsibility is diametrically opposite to the so-called people’s idea of responsibility. I am responsible to the moment, to existence – and responsible not in the sense of being dutiful to it, but responsible in the sense that I respond totally, spontaneously. Whatsoever the situation is, I am utterly in tune with it. While I am alive I am alive, when I am dead I am dead. I don’t see any question at all.
But I can understand your question. You say: “I frequently hear a question being asked about the ashram…”
The people who are asking you are dead, otherwise why should they be worried about the future? They don’t come to the ashram, they don’t come to me, they have no participation with all that is going on here. They are concerned about the future! They are showing much worry about the future – what will happen? The question is: what is happening?
The people who are asking such questions are stupid, too. Are they going to live forever? They are worried about me and my work as if they are going to be here forever. I am here for the moment; you are here for the moment. If a meeting is possible, something of tremendous beauty can happen. But these fools go on thinking in such cunning ways that they not only deceive others, they manage even to deceive themselves. Right now they are condemning me, right now they are criticizing me, and still they are showing great love – what will happen when I am no longer here?
The moment I die, the whole world dies for me; then whatsoever happens, happens. I have not taken the responsibility for the whole of existence. Who can take it? There have been people who have tried it and they have all utterly failed.
For example, Gautama the Buddha – one of the most beautiful men who has ever walked on the earth – was very much concerned that no religion should arise when he has left the world, that he should not be worshipped, that his statues should not be made. He emphasized again and again his whole life, forty-two years of constant sermonizing to people, saying, “There is no need to worship me,” and it brought just the opposite result. The more he emphasized “Don’t worship me,” the more people felt “This is the man to be worshipped.”
This is the law of reverse effect. More statues of Buddha have been made in the world than of anybody else, and he was against statues. So many statues have been made of Buddha that in Urdu, Arabic, and other Mohammedan languages, the very word buddha has become synonymous with statue, with a little change: budh. Budh means the statue, but budh comes from buddha. Thousands of statues…and the man was emphasizing “Don’t make statues of me!”
In fact, there was no need to emphasize it. The very emphasis was wrong. Why should he be concerned about the future? When you are no more there, the very desire to control the future according to your ideas is political. People are trying to control humanity when they are alive and they go on insisting that they would like to control humanity even when they are gone.
I am not controlling anybody; I am not a politician. I am not interested at all that anybody should be controlled by me today or tomorrow.
Now, the same kind of thing is being done by J. Krishnamurti: continuously emphasizing for fifty years: “I am not your guru.” But for fifty years if you are not the guru, why go on emphasizing it? There must be something in it. He is afraid; there is the fear: he knows that he will be worshipped; he knows that there are already people who think of him as their real guru. The more he freaks out, the more those fools think, “This is the real guru! Look how humble he is – no pretensions, no desire, no ambition to be holier-than-thou.” Ponder over it.
Krishnamurti is doing again the same thing that Buddha did. He is not original at all about it; it is an old game. In fact, people’s minds work in a strange way. God said to Adam and Eve, “Don’t eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge,” and they ate it. The moment you say no, something deep in the heart of man starts becoming interested; a great curiosity arises. So I am not saying to anybody, “Please don’t worship me.”
When I am not there, what can I do? Fools are fools. Whether they worship me or somebody else will not make much difference. If they want to worship me they will worship me.
Have you pondered over the question: who are these people who ask you this question? They must be Hindus, Mohammedans, Christians, Jainas, Buddhists, Krishnamurti-ites. Who are these people? If they are so concerned about me, have they dropped Krishna? Have they dropped Mohammed? Have they dropped Buddha? If they are honest and sincere they would have dropped all the religions. But they go on carrying their Bibles, their Zendavestas, their Vedas, their Mahaviras, their Zarathustras, and still they are concerned only about me. What are their institutions? What is Hinduism? or Islam? or Jainism? or Communism for that matter?
Every institution is bound to be dead, only a man is alive. No institutions are ever alive. How can an institution be alive? By its very nature, it is going to be dead.
So next time these people ask you the question, you ask them: who are you? Do you belong to any institution, to any religion, to any theology, to any philosophy? If you belong, then you don’t have the right to ask the question. And if you don’t belong, then you will not need to ask the question: you will see the point that intelligent people will never fall for dead institutions. The unintelligent are bound to live in institutions – there is no way you can change the label. You are living in a thousand and one kinds of institutions.
What is marriage? – an institution. Only insane people live in institutions. Marriage is dead. What is your family, and what is your nation, and what is your race? – all institutions. This is a strange thing: people go on asking these questions without ever thinking that those questions are pointing toward themselves.
As far as I am concerned, I am not at all interested in the next moment. Even if this sentence remains incomplete, I will not make any effort to complete it. I will not even put a full point to it. I have no desire to dominate, but I cannot go on saying to people, “Don’t worship me,” because that is the way to create worship.
People are to be understood in their whole insane mechanisms. For example, Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor…for theirs is the Kingdom of God.” Now, many, down these two thousand years have tried to be poor for the simple reason and motive so that they can attain to the Kingdom of God. Do you see the contradiction? “Blessed are the poor…for theirs is the Kingdom of God.” What kind of poverty is this if it brings the Kingdom of God to you? Then this is a good incentive, a great motivation for greed. If Jesus was really right, he should have only said this, “Blessed are the poor because they are poor.” Why make this statement: “…for theirs is the Kingdom of God”? Everybody wants to be of the Kingdom of God; everybody wants to possess eternal treasures. If one has to be poor and sacrifice for that, it is worth it.
People have been doing this all along. It is time that man start looking more clearly, more transparently – what has been told to him and what he has done.
People always misunderstand. When the master is alive they will not come to him, because when the master is alive they cannot be allowed to misunderstand. They will come to him only when he is no longer there, because a dead master can be controlled, manipulated.
Just a few days ago a so-called Jaina saint, Kanjiswami, died. He was worshipped by the Jainas so much that Jainas have been declaring that in the next circle of existence, in the next creation, he will be the first teerthankara, the first founder of Jainism, again.
When he died – I have seen the pictures, somebody sent me the pictures – the Jainas were trying to fix his posture, because a teerthankara, or a would-be teerthankara, should die in the lotus posture. They must have broken some of his bones. At least a dozen people were forcing his dead body into a certain yoga posture. Now, you cannot do this when a man is alive – he will go through a primal scream!
While he was alive he used to wear clothes. Now according to the Jainas, one attains to the ultimate freedom only when he dies naked. So they removed the clothes. Now, the corpse cannot prevent this. Clothes were removed, a lotus posture was fixed, and the followers are happy. This goes on happening.
A maid who seemed to enjoy her work gave notice one day without warning.
“Why do you wish to leave?” the lady of the house asked her. “Is anything wrong?”
“I just can’t stand the suspense in this house a minute more,” the maid replied.
“Suspense? What do you mean?”
“It's the sign over my bed. It says: ‘Watch ye, for ye know not when the master cometh.’”
The moment the master is gone, you have only his words. Words can be manipulated, words can be interpreted, words can be colored and painted according to your prejudices. As far as I am concerned, it will be impossible – for many reasons it will be impossible.
First, I am a man who is consistently inconsistent. It will not be possible to make a dogma out of my words; anybody trying to make a creed or dogma out of my words will go nuts! You can make a dogma out of Mahavira – he is a very consistent man, very logical. You can make a philosophy out of Buddha – he is very mathematical. You can make a philosophy out of Krishnamurti – for fifty years he has been simply repeating the same thing again and again; you cannot find a single inconsistency in him. On the one hand he says “I am not your master, your guru. Don’t depend on me.” But in a subtle way he is creating the whole philosophy – which is so consistent, so utterly consistent – that anybody would like to be imprisoned in it, it is so sane.
It is impossible with me: I live in the moment, and whatsoever I am saying right now is true only for this moment. I have no reference with my past, and I don’t think of the future at all. So my statements are atomic; they are not part of a system. You can make a dead institution only when a philosophy is very systematic, when there are no flaws, when no fault can be found in it, when all doubts are solved, all questions dissolved and you are given a ready-made answer to everything in life.
I am so inconsistent that it is impossible to create a dead institution around me, because a dead institution will need an infrastructure of a dead philosophy. I am not teaching you any doctrine, I am not giving you any principles. On the contrary, I am trying to take away all the philosophies that you have carried all along. I am destroying your ideologies, creeds, cults, dogmas – I am not replacing them with anything else. My process is of pure deconditioning. I am not trying to recondition you. I will leave you open.
Hence, you can see here, all my sannyasins are unique individuals. There is no certain pattern into which they have to fit themselves. There is no “should,” no “should not”; there is no rigid structure, but only a liquidity. I am not giving you Ten Commandments; I am not giving you detailed information about how to live, because I believe in the individual and the individual’s dignity and his freedom. I am sharing my vision – that is my joy – but it is not being shared in order that you should try to live up to it.
Krishnamurti goes on saying, “Don’t follow me. Don’t imitate me.” On the other hand, when people don’t follow him he becomes very irritated, annoyed. It is a little subtle. For example, he says, “Don’t follow me,” and people follow him. Then he becomes annoyed. If he is truly sincere, then you can say “Don’t follow me,” but if people want to follow you, who are you to prevent them? You have said your thing, now it is up to them to do or not to do. You are not their master; if they want to follow you, you cannot prevent them. If you prevent them, that means you are forcing them to follow your idea of not following.
He becomes very annoyed…
Just a few days ago he was in Mumbai, and I told my sannyasins, “Wherever he is, go there, and sit in the front rows.” And the moment he saw the orange people he became unenlightened immediately, he started shouting!
Now, why this annoyance? There must be some deep desire to control. Now who are you to tell somebody not to wear orange? If somebody wants to wear orange, then it is his choice. A subtle strategy, a very indirect strategy to manipulate, to dominate, to possess…
I am simply sharing my vision, my joy. I am enjoying it, and whosoever wants to enjoy with me is welcome. Naturally, when I am gone there may be a few fools who will try to figure it out, to make a system, although I am making it almost impossible. But fools are fools. They can try to do the impossible.
Bertrand Russell has said that it is a strange fact of history that not a single religion has been founded by a man who had a sense of humor. In fact, to have a sense of humor and to create a religion is contradictory. Religions are created by sad people – very long faces, almost dead. Bertrand Russell is no longer alive, otherwise I would have told him, “Then come and see.”
It may not have been so in the past, and I agree with him because Mahavira was serious, Jesus was serious, Mohammed was serious, Shankaracharya was serious… And Russell seems to be right that these sad people have created the dead institutions of all the religions.
But here something totally new is happening. I am not trying to create a religion; I cannot do it, because the very idea of creating a religion is ugly. I am releasing a sense of humor in you, a deep laughter in you. To me laughter is more sacred than prayer, dancing more spiritual than chanting mantras, loving existence far more cosmic than going to a church or to a temple. Becoming utterly nobody, a pure nothingness, is far more significant than becoming a saint. Innocence, a sense of humor, a joyous participation in life…you cannot create a dead institution around such tremendously alive experiences. A dead institution needs something dead to be made of. It is made out of the corpses of your saints. My whole approach is nonserious – sincere, but nonserious.
A salesman stopped at a small-town hotel and had difficulty getting a room.
He was about to leave when the clerk said, “I think I may be able to put you up. There are two beds up in room ten and one is occupied by a woman. But there is a screen around her bed and she is sleeping soundly. Just go to your bed quietly and everything will be fine.”
The offer was quickly accepted. About twenty minutes later the salesman returned, greatly excited.
“Good heavens!” he cried. “The woman in the other bed is dead!”
“I know that,” said the clerk, “but how the hell did you find out?”
People are curious, very curious.
You say: “I frequently hear a question being asked about the ashram… there is so much vitality here now and so much creativity with all these shows and music and fashions and crafts, as well as events happening abroad, that people are wondering what will happen when you are gone.”
Tell those fools to come here when the thing is alive. When you see a beautiful rose flower you don’t start thinking, “What will happen when the rose flower will wither away by evening? Its petals will fall and go back to the earth, to their original source – what will happen then?” You don’t bother about it. You rejoice in the flower, you dance with the flower in the wind, in the rain, in the sun. You see a bird on the wing, soaring high toward the sky, toward the stars. You don’t think, “What will happen when the bird is dead?” You enjoy it.
And, strangely, these are the people who create dead institutions, because when the bird is alive and singing and soaring high they are afraid to come close. When the bird is dead then they can make a beautiful golden cage – a temple, a synagogue, a church – and then they can worship. The dead bird is not dangerous.
These are the same people who are wondering what will happen who will create a dead institution. My people cannot create a dead institution – it is impossible. Those who have been in communion with me will have learned one thing absolutely, categorically: that life cannot be confined into institutions, and the moment you try to confine it into institutions you destroy it. So while I am alive they will celebrate. When I am gone they will still celebrate. They will celebrate my life, they will celebrate my death, and they will remain alive.
Remember, religions are created by guilty people, and I am not creating any guilt here.
There are certain mechanisms… If Jesus was not crucified, there would have been no Christianity at all. The real founder of Christianity is not Jesus Christ but the high priest of Jerusalem, the rabbi, and Pontius Pilate. These two persons, in conspiracy with Judas, created Christianity. This is the real “holy trinity”; Jesus Christ is just an excuse.
Crucify a man like Jesus and then you will never be able to forgive yourself, you will feel guilty. Your hands will look red with the blood of Jesus. Now, what should be done to remove those wounds, those guilt feelings? The only way is to move to the opposite: worship.
I am not sacrificing, hence there is no possibility of worshiping me. I am living joyously. Nobody need feel guilty for me, there is no reason at all. If I start living naked, if I start fasting, if I start moving barefoot on the roads, if I start begging for my food then I will create guilt, then I will create in you a subtle mechanism. Something will be triggered in you and finally you will find consolation only in worshiping me.
Mahavira is worshipped because he moved naked; tortured himself, fasted. Buddha is worshipped because he was a king, renounced all his pleasures. I have not renounced anything. In fact, I was born a poor man and I live like a king. There is no need to worship me, because there is no need to compensate me. I am not creating any guilt in anybody. I am not torturing myself.
You can easily forgive yourself. There is no point in going on carrying guilt.
The whole idea of what will happen in the future is political. The politician is always concerned with the future.
A great politician had been bitten by a dog but did not give it much thought until he noticed that the wound was taking a remarkably long time to heal. Finally he consulted a doctor who took one look at it and ordered the dog brought in. Just as he had suspected, the dog had rabies. Since it was too late to give the patient serum, the doctor felt he had to prepare him for the worst.
The politician sat down at the doctor’s desk and began to write. His physician tried to comfort him. “Perhaps it won’t be so bad,” he said. “You need not make out your will right now.”
“I’m not making any will,” replied the politician. “I’m just writing out a list of people I’m going to bite!”
I am not interested in the future at all. This moment is too much, too overwhelming. I am rejoicing in it. This is my way of life: to live moment to moment. I am not a prophet, I have not come here to determine the whole course of humanity in the future – that kind of bullshit does not appeal to me at all. Who am I to decide the whole course of humanity in the future? I am living my moment joyously; that’s enough. And the people who will be coming, they will find their own ways to live. To suffer or to rejoice – it all depends on their intelligence.
I cannot determine anything, but my way of working is such that it is impossible to create a philosophy, a dogma, a creed, a church, absolutely impossible.
Eighty-five-year-old Will Jones hobbled down to the local bar to have a cold one and shoot the breeze with his friends. Mr. Jones was the talk of the town as he had recently married a beautiful nineteen-year-old girl. Several of the boys bought the old man a drink in an effort to get him to tell of his wedding night. Sure enough the old rascal fell right into their plans.
“My youngest son carried me in and lifted me on the bed with my young bride. We spent the night together and then my three other sons carried me off the bed.”
The small circle of men scratched their heads and asked the old boy why it took his three other sons to take him off, when it only took his youngest boy to put him on.
Proudly he replied, “I fought them.”
Live each moment totally.
You say to me, : “There is so much vitality here now…” The vitality is because we are living herenow, our whole vision is of herenow. We don’t look beyond that because beyond that nothing exists; whatsoever comes is always now.
Time is an invention, now is a reality. So much creativity is happening for the simple reason that we have withdrawn from past and future.
Your whole energy remains blocked either in the past or in the future. When you withdraw all your energy from the past and the future a tremendous explosion happens. That explosion is creativity. This is only the beginning – every day, every moment, things are becoming intenser, more passionate. But we are not trying in any way to control the future.
I am not a prophet, neither I am a messiah. To me, the claims of Jesus Christ and people like that look childish: that they have come to deliver the whole of humanity from their sins. Krishna says in Gita, “Whenever religion will be lost, I will come back.” To me, this is all crap. There is no need for anybody to come back; the people who will be here will take care of themselves.
I am preparing my people to live joyously, ecstatically. So when I am not here it won’t make any difference to them. They will still live in the same way – maybe my death will bring them more intensity.
Death is always a beautiful background to make your life more intense. My ashram is never going to become a dead institution. And if it becomes so, it won’t be my ashram.
You ask me, “When you leave your body will the ashram become a dead institution, and will you just become deified and forgotten?”
I am not leaving anything to anybody. I have declared myself bhagwan. I am not leaving anything to anybody. Why should I leave it to anybody? I know I am the Blessed One – and only I can know that, how can anybody else know it? I am trying to seduce my people to understand this immensity: that they are also the Blessed Ones. It is impossible to deify me – I have already done it! What else is there left for you? I don’t depend on anybody.
Before I leave the world, one thing certainly I am going to do – it is private, so please don’t tell it to anybody else… Before I leave the world, I am going to declare all of my sannyasins the Blessed Ones. Thousands of bhagwans all over the world! There will be no need to make any special nook and corner for me: I will be dissolved in my people. Just as you can taste the sea from any place and it is salty, you will taste any of my sannyasins and you will find the same taste: the taste of bhagwan, the taste of the Blessed One.
I am waiting for the right moment.
Once the new commune is established, all my sannyasins will be called bhagwans. Then it will be really a “bhagwan movement”!
The second question:
Osho,
If life is so beautiful, then what is the point of being enlightened and not being reborn?
There is no point at all. That’s what I have been telling to you, but you don’t listen. Your question shows that you have not listened.
The question begins: “If life is so beautiful…” If’s and but’s won’t do. If life is beautiful then you need not be enlightened. Life is beautiful, then there is no need to be enlightened.
Are you a Pollack or something?
A lady was looking in a bookstall for a gift for a sick Pollack friend.
When asked if she would like something religious, she replied, “Oh, no. My Pollack friend is well on the way to recovery!”
If you can drop that if, you will be on the way to recovery. But that if is there…I can see it sitting on you like a huge mountain.
I don’t see any point in being enlightened. Things are perfectly beautiful as they are. But if you start with a hypothetical question then you have not tasted life. Drop the if and you are enlightened. There is not much in enlightenment. It is a simple recognition that “I have been unnecessarily chasing my own tail.” The day you get it you stop chasing your tail. You just simply sit in the sun and take a sunbath.
A Pollack landowner had been wondering for quite a while about the quietness of his barnyard during the mid-day breaks. One day he decided to find out what was behind it all, and he stepped out discreetly and saw his farmhand crossing the yard with open pants and disappearing into the barn. The landowner called his servant back and asked him what was going on inside the barn.
“Well, sir, we’ve got quite a jolly game going on in there. The girls hide their heads in the hay and then have to guess who did it!”
“That sounds like fun,” replies the Pollack landowner. “Can I join you?”
“I guess so,” says the farmhand. “Your wife has been at it for six weeks already!”
You can join, but drop the if. Those who have dropped the if, they have already joined the game. The Buddhas and the Krishnas and the Zarathustras – they have joined the game just by dropping the if.
It is very difficult to drop if’s and but’s – the mind consists of them; these are the bricks of the mind. And all minds are Polack, remember.
The Pollack Pope was finally persuaded by his Cardinals to find a woman, so that he could better understand the problems of mankind.
“Well-a, okay,” said the Pollack Pope, “but-a she’s-a gotta have certain qualifications. First-a, she’s-a gotta be blind, so she cannot see-a what-a I am-a doing to her. Second-a, she’s-a gotta be deaf, so she cannot hear-a what I say-a. And third-a, she’s-a gotta have-a the biggest tits-a in Italy!”
People are trying to play the game of life but with many conditions, and those conditions prevent them.
Life is a beautiful game if you don’t have any conditions for it. If you can simply plunge into it with no if’s, with no but’s; then there is no need for enlightenment.
What is actually meant by enlightenment? – a relaxed, restful approach to life, a deep synchronicity with existence, an egoless communion with the whole.
A Pollack stripper goes to a theater manager for an audition. Before beginning her performance, she puts a big red apple in the middle of the stage and to the accompaniment of soft sexy music, she begins her number.
The music comes to a crescendo…she is almost naked. With a crash of cymbals and a roll of drums, to the gaping eyes of the theater manager, she leaps across the stage, does three impressive pirouettes and with one final crash of the drums dives down in the splits and lands on top of the big red apple.
When she gets up to bow, the apple has disappeared.
After a moment of deathly hush, the theater manager applauds her ecstatically.
“You will become famous all over the world. I will book you for the best theaters in Tokyo, London, Hamburg, New York and Paris.”
“No! Paris no!” replies the stripper in a worried tone.
“Why not Paris?” asks the manager. “It’s one of the best cities in the world for your number.”
“No, not Paris! In Paris my mother does this number with a watermelon!”
The third question:
Osho,
What makes the fish jump out of the water?
Stephen Lyons, it is a strange question…it is fishy! Have you been a fish in your past life, or are you planning to be born as a fish in the future?
I don’t know much about the fish and their minds, but I guess that they must be just like you: getting tired of the same ocean, the same water, the obvious. They must be jumping out of the water just to see what is beyond. They must be in search of enlightenment, nirvana. Or perhaps, trying to get out of the known, to have some taste of the unknown.
The Indian mythology is that the first incarnation of God happened in the form of a fish. That seems to be very relevant, because that’s what biologists say: that life must have started in the ocean as a fish.
Then compare… Even the fish is curious, inquiring. And there are millions of men who are not curious at all, not inquiring at all, who are living with stuffed ideas – borrowed rubbish from others – who are not explorers. The fish jumping out of the water shows you that you have fallen even below that.
A Christian remains a Christian, a Hindu remains a Hindu, a Mohammedan remains a Mohammedan – not only that, they brag. They are far worse than the most primitive form of life, the fish. One should inquire, one should explore. It is accidental that you are born a Hindu or a Mohammedan; it is not your destiny. Explore, jump out of the water, look around. There are millions of possibilities available, and the more you explore the more you are. The more you go into the unknown the more integrated you become. The challenge of the unknown is the most centering phenomenon in life.
Perhaps the fishes are jumping out of water just to listen to a few of my jokes.
Mrs. Cantor suspected her husband of playing around with the maid.
Having to spend a few days with her sick mother, she told her small son, Harvey, to keep an eye on Poppa and the maid.
As soon as she returned she asked, “Harvey, did anything happen?”
“Well,” said the boy, “Poppa and the maid went into the bedroom and took off their clothes and…”
“Stop! Stop!” shouted Mrs. Cantor. “We will wait until Poppa comes home.”
Poppa was met at the door by his irate wife, cringing maid and confused son. “Harvey, tell me what happened with Poppa and the maid,” stormed Mrs. Cantor.
“As I told you, Ma,” said Harvey, “Poppa and the maid went into the bedroom and took off their clothes.”
“Yes! Yes! Go on, Harvey,” said Mrs. Cantor impatiently, “what did they do then?”
Replied Harvey, “Why, Mother, they did the same thing you and Uncle Bernie did when Poppa was in Chicago.”
So, when you see again a fish jumping out of the water, please tell a joke.
A pretty girl walked up to a tall handsome man.
“Ohhh,” she sighed, “you have such big muscular arms!”
“Yes,” he responded, making a fist with one hand. He then pointed with the other hand to his muscles and said, “Eight inches! I measured them this morning.”
“Ohhh,” said the girl with admiration, “and you have such a big beautiful chest!”
The man laughed, stretched his arms in the air, and said, “Thirty-five inches! I measured it this morning.”
The girl was amazed. She looked down at him, pointed her finger at his cock and asked, “How long?”
“Two inches,” he replied.
“Only?” the girl asked disappointed.
The he-man took a deep breath, looked at the girl and said, “Measured from the floor, of course!”
Can you make a religion out of my jokes? Can you make a dead institution out of my jokes? It is impossible.
The last question:
Osho,
There is no more bottle, no more you, no more I, only this drunken joy that makes my toes curl in ecstasy. But, Osho, what was the joke?
The ultimate joke, the only joke…
The official, Riko, once asked Nansen to explain to him the old problem of the goose in the bottle.
“If a man puts a gosling into a bottle,” said Riko, “and feeds him until he is full-grown, how can the man get the goose out without killing it or breaking the bottle?”
Nansen gave a clap with his hands and shouted, “Riko!”
“Yes, Master,” said the official with a start.
“See,” said Nansen, “the goose is out.”
This is the only ultimate joke in existence. You are enlightened! You are buddhas, pretending not to be, pretending to be somebody else. And my whole work here is to expose you.
The goose is out! You will make every effort to put it back into the bottle, because once the goose is out then you don’t have any problems. Man knows only how to live with problems, he does not know how to live without problems, so he goes on putting the goose back into the bottle.
There is a beautiful poem of Rabindranath Tagore.
He says: I was searching for God for thousands of lives. I saw him…sometimes far away, close to a distant star. I rushed on. By the time I reached that place he had gone further ahead. It went on and on. Finally I arrived at a door, and on the door there was a signboard: “This is the house where God lives” – Lao Tzu House!
Rabindranath says, “I became very worried for the first time. I became very troubled. Trembling, I went up the stairs. I was just going to knock on the door and suddenly, like a flash, I saw the whole point. If I knock on the door and God opens the door, then what? Then everything is finished – my journeys, my pilgrimages, my great adventures, my philosophy, my poetry, all my longings of the heart – all is finished! It will be suicide.
“Seeing the point so crystal clear,” Rabindranath says, “I removed my shoes from my feet, because getting back down the stairs may create some noise – he may open the door! Then what? And since the moment I reached the bottom of the steps I have not looked back. I have been running and running for thousands of years. I am still searching for God, although now I know where he lives. So I only have to avoid Lao Tzu House, and I can go on searching everywhere else for him. There is no fear…but I have to avoid that house. That house haunts me; I remember it perfectly. If by chance accidentally I enter into that house, then all is finished.”
It is a beautiful insight.
Man lives in problems; man lives in misery. To live without problems, to live without misery, needs real courage.
I have lived without any problems for twenty-five years, and I know it is a kind of suicide. I simply go on sitting in my room doing nothing. There is nothing to do!
If you can allow so much silence to penetrate your very being, only then you will be able to leave the goose out of the bottle. Otherwise, for a moment maybe…again you will push the goose back into the bottle. That gives you an occupation; keeps you occupied, keeps you concerned, worried, anxious. The moment there are no problems, there is no mind. The moment there are no problems, there is no ego. The ego and the mind can exist only in the turmoil of problems.
As I see it, man creates problems to nourish his ego. If there are no real problems he will invent them. He is bound to invent them, otherwise his mind cannot function anymore.
This is my simple declaration: that all is divine. The trees and the rocks and the stones and the mountains and the stars – all are divine. The goose has never been in the bottle. It is only man who cannot live without problems who forces the goose into the bottle; and then he starts asking how to get it out. Then he makes impossible conditions: first, the bottle should not be broken, then the goose should not be killed.
Now the goose is big, it is filling the whole bottle. It is impossible to fulfill the conditions. Either the bottle has to be broken – that is not allowed; or the goose has to be killed – that is not allowed. You have to bring the goose out without killing it and without destroying the bottle. That is not possible, in the very nature of things. Aes dhammo sanantano: this is how life’s law is, it is not possible. So man remains happy because it is not possible, so he can go on carrying the bottle.
I see you carrying the bottle with the goose… But the truth is that the bottle is only your imagination, fantasy, just made of the same stuff dreams are made of.
This is the most difficult thing for humanity to accept. Hence, so much opposition to me – because I am telling you that you are gods, that you are buddhas, that there is no other god than you. That is the most difficult thing to accept. You would like to be a sinner, you would like to be guilty, you would like to be thrown into hell; but you cannot accept that you are a buddha, the awakened one, because then all problems are solved. And when problems are solved, you start disappearing. And to disappear into the whole is the only thing worth doing, is the only thing of any significance.
What I am telling to you is not a teaching. This place is a device – this is a buddhafield. I have to take away things which you don’t have, and I have to give you things which you already have. You need not be grateful to me at all, because I am not giving you anything new. I am simply helping you to remember. You have forgotten the language of your being.
I have come to recognize it: I have remembered myself. And since the day I remembered myself I have been in a strange situation: I feel compassion for you, and deep down I also giggle at you, because you are not really in trouble. You don’t need compassion, you need hammering! You need to be hit hard on the head! Your suffering is bogus. Ecstasy is your very nature.
You are truth, you are love; you are bliss, you are freedom.
Enough for today.
Osho,
I frequently hear a question being asked about the ashram…there is so much vitality here now and so much creativity with all these shows and music and fashions and crafts, as well as events happening abroad, that people are wondering what will happen when you are gone.
When you leave your body will the ashram become a dead institution, and will you just become deified and forgotten?
My concern is the immediate, this moment. Beyond this moment nothing exists. The only time that is existential is now, and the only space that matters is here. So I don’t care what happens in the future – neither the past nor the future have any validity.
But that is the way of the mind: the mind can only think in terms of past and future; the mind cannot experience the present; it deviates from the present continuously. The mind is like a pendulum: it moves to the left, far left, or to the right, far right. Either it is leftist or rightist – and my whole approach is to be exactly in the middle.
The word for the middle which Gautama the Buddha used is very beautiful: he called it majjim nikaya, “the way of the exact middle.” If you can keep the pendulum in the middle, the clock stops. The clock represents the mind – not only literally, not only as a metaphor; mind is time. Time consists of two tenses, not three. The present is not part of time; past is time, future is time. The present is the penetration of the beyond into the world of time.
You can think of time as a horizontal line. A is being followed by b, b is followed by c, c is followed by d, so on and so forth: it is a linear procession. Existence is not horizontal, existence is vertical. Existence does not move in a line – from a to b, from b to c – existence moves in intensity: from a to a deeper a, from the deeper a to even deeper a. It is diving into the moment.
Time conceived as past and future is the language of the mind – and the mind can only create problems – it knows no solutions. All the problems that humanity is burdened with are mind inventions. Existence is a mystery, not a problem. It has not to be solved, it has to be lived.
I am living my moment. I don’t care a bit what happens later on. It may look to you very irresponsible because my criterion of responsibility is diametrically opposite to the so-called people’s idea of responsibility. I am responsible to the moment, to existence – and responsible not in the sense of being dutiful to it, but responsible in the sense that I respond totally, spontaneously. Whatsoever the situation is, I am utterly in tune with it. While I am alive I am alive, when I am dead I am dead. I don’t see any question at all.
But I can understand your question. You say: “I frequently hear a question being asked about the ashram…”
The people who are asking you are dead, otherwise why should they be worried about the future? They don’t come to the ashram, they don’t come to me, they have no participation with all that is going on here. They are concerned about the future! They are showing much worry about the future – what will happen? The question is: what is happening?
The people who are asking such questions are stupid, too. Are they going to live forever? They are worried about me and my work as if they are going to be here forever. I am here for the moment; you are here for the moment. If a meeting is possible, something of tremendous beauty can happen. But these fools go on thinking in such cunning ways that they not only deceive others, they manage even to deceive themselves. Right now they are condemning me, right now they are criticizing me, and still they are showing great love – what will happen when I am no longer here?
The moment I die, the whole world dies for me; then whatsoever happens, happens. I have not taken the responsibility for the whole of existence. Who can take it? There have been people who have tried it and they have all utterly failed.
For example, Gautama the Buddha – one of the most beautiful men who has ever walked on the earth – was very much concerned that no religion should arise when he has left the world, that he should not be worshipped, that his statues should not be made. He emphasized again and again his whole life, forty-two years of constant sermonizing to people, saying, “There is no need to worship me,” and it brought just the opposite result. The more he emphasized “Don’t worship me,” the more people felt “This is the man to be worshipped.”
This is the law of reverse effect. More statues of Buddha have been made in the world than of anybody else, and he was against statues. So many statues have been made of Buddha that in Urdu, Arabic, and other Mohammedan languages, the very word buddha has become synonymous with statue, with a little change: budh. Budh means the statue, but budh comes from buddha. Thousands of statues…and the man was emphasizing “Don’t make statues of me!”
In fact, there was no need to emphasize it. The very emphasis was wrong. Why should he be concerned about the future? When you are no more there, the very desire to control the future according to your ideas is political. People are trying to control humanity when they are alive and they go on insisting that they would like to control humanity even when they are gone.
I am not controlling anybody; I am not a politician. I am not interested at all that anybody should be controlled by me today or tomorrow.
Now, the same kind of thing is being done by J. Krishnamurti: continuously emphasizing for fifty years: “I am not your guru.” But for fifty years if you are not the guru, why go on emphasizing it? There must be something in it. He is afraid; there is the fear: he knows that he will be worshipped; he knows that there are already people who think of him as their real guru. The more he freaks out, the more those fools think, “This is the real guru! Look how humble he is – no pretensions, no desire, no ambition to be holier-than-thou.” Ponder over it.
Krishnamurti is doing again the same thing that Buddha did. He is not original at all about it; it is an old game. In fact, people’s minds work in a strange way. God said to Adam and Eve, “Don’t eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge,” and they ate it. The moment you say no, something deep in the heart of man starts becoming interested; a great curiosity arises. So I am not saying to anybody, “Please don’t worship me.”
When I am not there, what can I do? Fools are fools. Whether they worship me or somebody else will not make much difference. If they want to worship me they will worship me.
Have you pondered over the question: who are these people who ask you this question? They must be Hindus, Mohammedans, Christians, Jainas, Buddhists, Krishnamurti-ites. Who are these people? If they are so concerned about me, have they dropped Krishna? Have they dropped Mohammed? Have they dropped Buddha? If they are honest and sincere they would have dropped all the religions. But they go on carrying their Bibles, their Zendavestas, their Vedas, their Mahaviras, their Zarathustras, and still they are concerned only about me. What are their institutions? What is Hinduism? or Islam? or Jainism? or Communism for that matter?
Every institution is bound to be dead, only a man is alive. No institutions are ever alive. How can an institution be alive? By its very nature, it is going to be dead.
So next time these people ask you the question, you ask them: who are you? Do you belong to any institution, to any religion, to any theology, to any philosophy? If you belong, then you don’t have the right to ask the question. And if you don’t belong, then you will not need to ask the question: you will see the point that intelligent people will never fall for dead institutions. The unintelligent are bound to live in institutions – there is no way you can change the label. You are living in a thousand and one kinds of institutions.
What is marriage? – an institution. Only insane people live in institutions. Marriage is dead. What is your family, and what is your nation, and what is your race? – all institutions. This is a strange thing: people go on asking these questions without ever thinking that those questions are pointing toward themselves.
As far as I am concerned, I am not at all interested in the next moment. Even if this sentence remains incomplete, I will not make any effort to complete it. I will not even put a full point to it. I have no desire to dominate, but I cannot go on saying to people, “Don’t worship me,” because that is the way to create worship.
People are to be understood in their whole insane mechanisms. For example, Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor…for theirs is the Kingdom of God.” Now, many, down these two thousand years have tried to be poor for the simple reason and motive so that they can attain to the Kingdom of God. Do you see the contradiction? “Blessed are the poor…for theirs is the Kingdom of God.” What kind of poverty is this if it brings the Kingdom of God to you? Then this is a good incentive, a great motivation for greed. If Jesus was really right, he should have only said this, “Blessed are the poor because they are poor.” Why make this statement: “…for theirs is the Kingdom of God”? Everybody wants to be of the Kingdom of God; everybody wants to possess eternal treasures. If one has to be poor and sacrifice for that, it is worth it.
People have been doing this all along. It is time that man start looking more clearly, more transparently – what has been told to him and what he has done.
People always misunderstand. When the master is alive they will not come to him, because when the master is alive they cannot be allowed to misunderstand. They will come to him only when he is no longer there, because a dead master can be controlled, manipulated.
Just a few days ago a so-called Jaina saint, Kanjiswami, died. He was worshipped by the Jainas so much that Jainas have been declaring that in the next circle of existence, in the next creation, he will be the first teerthankara, the first founder of Jainism, again.
When he died – I have seen the pictures, somebody sent me the pictures – the Jainas were trying to fix his posture, because a teerthankara, or a would-be teerthankara, should die in the lotus posture. They must have broken some of his bones. At least a dozen people were forcing his dead body into a certain yoga posture. Now, you cannot do this when a man is alive – he will go through a primal scream!
While he was alive he used to wear clothes. Now according to the Jainas, one attains to the ultimate freedom only when he dies naked. So they removed the clothes. Now, the corpse cannot prevent this. Clothes were removed, a lotus posture was fixed, and the followers are happy. This goes on happening.
A maid who seemed to enjoy her work gave notice one day without warning.
“Why do you wish to leave?” the lady of the house asked her. “Is anything wrong?”
“I just can’t stand the suspense in this house a minute more,” the maid replied.
“Suspense? What do you mean?”
“It's the sign over my bed. It says: ‘Watch ye, for ye know not when the master cometh.’”
The moment the master is gone, you have only his words. Words can be manipulated, words can be interpreted, words can be colored and painted according to your prejudices. As far as I am concerned, it will be impossible – for many reasons it will be impossible.
First, I am a man who is consistently inconsistent. It will not be possible to make a dogma out of my words; anybody trying to make a creed or dogma out of my words will go nuts! You can make a dogma out of Mahavira – he is a very consistent man, very logical. You can make a philosophy out of Buddha – he is very mathematical. You can make a philosophy out of Krishnamurti – for fifty years he has been simply repeating the same thing again and again; you cannot find a single inconsistency in him. On the one hand he says “I am not your master, your guru. Don’t depend on me.” But in a subtle way he is creating the whole philosophy – which is so consistent, so utterly consistent – that anybody would like to be imprisoned in it, it is so sane.
It is impossible with me: I live in the moment, and whatsoever I am saying right now is true only for this moment. I have no reference with my past, and I don’t think of the future at all. So my statements are atomic; they are not part of a system. You can make a dead institution only when a philosophy is very systematic, when there are no flaws, when no fault can be found in it, when all doubts are solved, all questions dissolved and you are given a ready-made answer to everything in life.
I am so inconsistent that it is impossible to create a dead institution around me, because a dead institution will need an infrastructure of a dead philosophy. I am not teaching you any doctrine, I am not giving you any principles. On the contrary, I am trying to take away all the philosophies that you have carried all along. I am destroying your ideologies, creeds, cults, dogmas – I am not replacing them with anything else. My process is of pure deconditioning. I am not trying to recondition you. I will leave you open.
Hence, you can see here, all my sannyasins are unique individuals. There is no certain pattern into which they have to fit themselves. There is no “should,” no “should not”; there is no rigid structure, but only a liquidity. I am not giving you Ten Commandments; I am not giving you detailed information about how to live, because I believe in the individual and the individual’s dignity and his freedom. I am sharing my vision – that is my joy – but it is not being shared in order that you should try to live up to it.
Krishnamurti goes on saying, “Don’t follow me. Don’t imitate me.” On the other hand, when people don’t follow him he becomes very irritated, annoyed. It is a little subtle. For example, he says, “Don’t follow me,” and people follow him. Then he becomes annoyed. If he is truly sincere, then you can say “Don’t follow me,” but if people want to follow you, who are you to prevent them? You have said your thing, now it is up to them to do or not to do. You are not their master; if they want to follow you, you cannot prevent them. If you prevent them, that means you are forcing them to follow your idea of not following.
He becomes very annoyed…
Just a few days ago he was in Mumbai, and I told my sannyasins, “Wherever he is, go there, and sit in the front rows.” And the moment he saw the orange people he became unenlightened immediately, he started shouting!
Now, why this annoyance? There must be some deep desire to control. Now who are you to tell somebody not to wear orange? If somebody wants to wear orange, then it is his choice. A subtle strategy, a very indirect strategy to manipulate, to dominate, to possess…
I am simply sharing my vision, my joy. I am enjoying it, and whosoever wants to enjoy with me is welcome. Naturally, when I am gone there may be a few fools who will try to figure it out, to make a system, although I am making it almost impossible. But fools are fools. They can try to do the impossible.
Bertrand Russell has said that it is a strange fact of history that not a single religion has been founded by a man who had a sense of humor. In fact, to have a sense of humor and to create a religion is contradictory. Religions are created by sad people – very long faces, almost dead. Bertrand Russell is no longer alive, otherwise I would have told him, “Then come and see.”
It may not have been so in the past, and I agree with him because Mahavira was serious, Jesus was serious, Mohammed was serious, Shankaracharya was serious… And Russell seems to be right that these sad people have created the dead institutions of all the religions.
But here something totally new is happening. I am not trying to create a religion; I cannot do it, because the very idea of creating a religion is ugly. I am releasing a sense of humor in you, a deep laughter in you. To me laughter is more sacred than prayer, dancing more spiritual than chanting mantras, loving existence far more cosmic than going to a church or to a temple. Becoming utterly nobody, a pure nothingness, is far more significant than becoming a saint. Innocence, a sense of humor, a joyous participation in life…you cannot create a dead institution around such tremendously alive experiences. A dead institution needs something dead to be made of. It is made out of the corpses of your saints. My whole approach is nonserious – sincere, but nonserious.
A salesman stopped at a small-town hotel and had difficulty getting a room.
He was about to leave when the clerk said, “I think I may be able to put you up. There are two beds up in room ten and one is occupied by a woman. But there is a screen around her bed and she is sleeping soundly. Just go to your bed quietly and everything will be fine.”
The offer was quickly accepted. About twenty minutes later the salesman returned, greatly excited.
“Good heavens!” he cried. “The woman in the other bed is dead!”
“I know that,” said the clerk, “but how the hell did you find out?”
People are curious, very curious.
You say: “I frequently hear a question being asked about the ashram… there is so much vitality here now and so much creativity with all these shows and music and fashions and crafts, as well as events happening abroad, that people are wondering what will happen when you are gone.”
Tell those fools to come here when the thing is alive. When you see a beautiful rose flower you don’t start thinking, “What will happen when the rose flower will wither away by evening? Its petals will fall and go back to the earth, to their original source – what will happen then?” You don’t bother about it. You rejoice in the flower, you dance with the flower in the wind, in the rain, in the sun. You see a bird on the wing, soaring high toward the sky, toward the stars. You don’t think, “What will happen when the bird is dead?” You enjoy it.
And, strangely, these are the people who create dead institutions, because when the bird is alive and singing and soaring high they are afraid to come close. When the bird is dead then they can make a beautiful golden cage – a temple, a synagogue, a church – and then they can worship. The dead bird is not dangerous.
These are the same people who are wondering what will happen who will create a dead institution. My people cannot create a dead institution – it is impossible. Those who have been in communion with me will have learned one thing absolutely, categorically: that life cannot be confined into institutions, and the moment you try to confine it into institutions you destroy it. So while I am alive they will celebrate. When I am gone they will still celebrate. They will celebrate my life, they will celebrate my death, and they will remain alive.
Remember, religions are created by guilty people, and I am not creating any guilt here.
There are certain mechanisms… If Jesus was not crucified, there would have been no Christianity at all. The real founder of Christianity is not Jesus Christ but the high priest of Jerusalem, the rabbi, and Pontius Pilate. These two persons, in conspiracy with Judas, created Christianity. This is the real “holy trinity”; Jesus Christ is just an excuse.
Crucify a man like Jesus and then you will never be able to forgive yourself, you will feel guilty. Your hands will look red with the blood of Jesus. Now, what should be done to remove those wounds, those guilt feelings? The only way is to move to the opposite: worship.
I am not sacrificing, hence there is no possibility of worshiping me. I am living joyously. Nobody need feel guilty for me, there is no reason at all. If I start living naked, if I start fasting, if I start moving barefoot on the roads, if I start begging for my food then I will create guilt, then I will create in you a subtle mechanism. Something will be triggered in you and finally you will find consolation only in worshiping me.
Mahavira is worshipped because he moved naked; tortured himself, fasted. Buddha is worshipped because he was a king, renounced all his pleasures. I have not renounced anything. In fact, I was born a poor man and I live like a king. There is no need to worship me, because there is no need to compensate me. I am not creating any guilt in anybody. I am not torturing myself.
You can easily forgive yourself. There is no point in going on carrying guilt.
The whole idea of what will happen in the future is political. The politician is always concerned with the future.
A great politician had been bitten by a dog but did not give it much thought until he noticed that the wound was taking a remarkably long time to heal. Finally he consulted a doctor who took one look at it and ordered the dog brought in. Just as he had suspected, the dog had rabies. Since it was too late to give the patient serum, the doctor felt he had to prepare him for the worst.
The politician sat down at the doctor’s desk and began to write. His physician tried to comfort him. “Perhaps it won’t be so bad,” he said. “You need not make out your will right now.”
“I’m not making any will,” replied the politician. “I’m just writing out a list of people I’m going to bite!”
I am not interested in the future at all. This moment is too much, too overwhelming. I am rejoicing in it. This is my way of life: to live moment to moment. I am not a prophet, I have not come here to determine the whole course of humanity in the future – that kind of bullshit does not appeal to me at all. Who am I to decide the whole course of humanity in the future? I am living my moment joyously; that’s enough. And the people who will be coming, they will find their own ways to live. To suffer or to rejoice – it all depends on their intelligence.
I cannot determine anything, but my way of working is such that it is impossible to create a philosophy, a dogma, a creed, a church, absolutely impossible.
Eighty-five-year-old Will Jones hobbled down to the local bar to have a cold one and shoot the breeze with his friends. Mr. Jones was the talk of the town as he had recently married a beautiful nineteen-year-old girl. Several of the boys bought the old man a drink in an effort to get him to tell of his wedding night. Sure enough the old rascal fell right into their plans.
“My youngest son carried me in and lifted me on the bed with my young bride. We spent the night together and then my three other sons carried me off the bed.”
The small circle of men scratched their heads and asked the old boy why it took his three other sons to take him off, when it only took his youngest boy to put him on.
Proudly he replied, “I fought them.”
Live each moment totally.
You say to me, : “There is so much vitality here now…” The vitality is because we are living herenow, our whole vision is of herenow. We don’t look beyond that because beyond that nothing exists; whatsoever comes is always now.
Time is an invention, now is a reality. So much creativity is happening for the simple reason that we have withdrawn from past and future.
Your whole energy remains blocked either in the past or in the future. When you withdraw all your energy from the past and the future a tremendous explosion happens. That explosion is creativity. This is only the beginning – every day, every moment, things are becoming intenser, more passionate. But we are not trying in any way to control the future.
I am not a prophet, neither I am a messiah. To me, the claims of Jesus Christ and people like that look childish: that they have come to deliver the whole of humanity from their sins. Krishna says in Gita, “Whenever religion will be lost, I will come back.” To me, this is all crap. There is no need for anybody to come back; the people who will be here will take care of themselves.
I am preparing my people to live joyously, ecstatically. So when I am not here it won’t make any difference to them. They will still live in the same way – maybe my death will bring them more intensity.
Death is always a beautiful background to make your life more intense. My ashram is never going to become a dead institution. And if it becomes so, it won’t be my ashram.
You ask me, “When you leave your body will the ashram become a dead institution, and will you just become deified and forgotten?”
I am not leaving anything to anybody. I have declared myself bhagwan. I am not leaving anything to anybody. Why should I leave it to anybody? I know I am the Blessed One – and only I can know that, how can anybody else know it? I am trying to seduce my people to understand this immensity: that they are also the Blessed Ones. It is impossible to deify me – I have already done it! What else is there left for you? I don’t depend on anybody.
Before I leave the world, one thing certainly I am going to do – it is private, so please don’t tell it to anybody else… Before I leave the world, I am going to declare all of my sannyasins the Blessed Ones. Thousands of bhagwans all over the world! There will be no need to make any special nook and corner for me: I will be dissolved in my people. Just as you can taste the sea from any place and it is salty, you will taste any of my sannyasins and you will find the same taste: the taste of bhagwan, the taste of the Blessed One.
I am waiting for the right moment.
Once the new commune is established, all my sannyasins will be called bhagwans. Then it will be really a “bhagwan movement”!
The second question:
Osho,
If life is so beautiful, then what is the point of being enlightened and not being reborn?
There is no point at all. That’s what I have been telling to you, but you don’t listen. Your question shows that you have not listened.
The question begins: “If life is so beautiful…” If’s and but’s won’t do. If life is beautiful then you need not be enlightened. Life is beautiful, then there is no need to be enlightened.
Are you a Pollack or something?
A lady was looking in a bookstall for a gift for a sick Pollack friend.
When asked if she would like something religious, she replied, “Oh, no. My Pollack friend is well on the way to recovery!”
If you can drop that if, you will be on the way to recovery. But that if is there…I can see it sitting on you like a huge mountain.
I don’t see any point in being enlightened. Things are perfectly beautiful as they are. But if you start with a hypothetical question then you have not tasted life. Drop the if and you are enlightened. There is not much in enlightenment. It is a simple recognition that “I have been unnecessarily chasing my own tail.” The day you get it you stop chasing your tail. You just simply sit in the sun and take a sunbath.
A Pollack landowner had been wondering for quite a while about the quietness of his barnyard during the mid-day breaks. One day he decided to find out what was behind it all, and he stepped out discreetly and saw his farmhand crossing the yard with open pants and disappearing into the barn. The landowner called his servant back and asked him what was going on inside the barn.
“Well, sir, we’ve got quite a jolly game going on in there. The girls hide their heads in the hay and then have to guess who did it!”
“That sounds like fun,” replies the Pollack landowner. “Can I join you?”
“I guess so,” says the farmhand. “Your wife has been at it for six weeks already!”
You can join, but drop the if. Those who have dropped the if, they have already joined the game. The Buddhas and the Krishnas and the Zarathustras – they have joined the game just by dropping the if.
It is very difficult to drop if’s and but’s – the mind consists of them; these are the bricks of the mind. And all minds are Polack, remember.
The Pollack Pope was finally persuaded by his Cardinals to find a woman, so that he could better understand the problems of mankind.
“Well-a, okay,” said the Pollack Pope, “but-a she’s-a gotta have certain qualifications. First-a, she’s-a gotta be blind, so she cannot see-a what-a I am-a doing to her. Second-a, she’s-a gotta be deaf, so she cannot hear-a what I say-a. And third-a, she’s-a gotta have-a the biggest tits-a in Italy!”
People are trying to play the game of life but with many conditions, and those conditions prevent them.
Life is a beautiful game if you don’t have any conditions for it. If you can simply plunge into it with no if’s, with no but’s; then there is no need for enlightenment.
What is actually meant by enlightenment? – a relaxed, restful approach to life, a deep synchronicity with existence, an egoless communion with the whole.
A Pollack stripper goes to a theater manager for an audition. Before beginning her performance, she puts a big red apple in the middle of the stage and to the accompaniment of soft sexy music, she begins her number.
The music comes to a crescendo…she is almost naked. With a crash of cymbals and a roll of drums, to the gaping eyes of the theater manager, she leaps across the stage, does three impressive pirouettes and with one final crash of the drums dives down in the splits and lands on top of the big red apple.
When she gets up to bow, the apple has disappeared.
After a moment of deathly hush, the theater manager applauds her ecstatically.
“You will become famous all over the world. I will book you for the best theaters in Tokyo, London, Hamburg, New York and Paris.”
“No! Paris no!” replies the stripper in a worried tone.
“Why not Paris?” asks the manager. “It’s one of the best cities in the world for your number.”
“No, not Paris! In Paris my mother does this number with a watermelon!”
The third question:
Osho,
What makes the fish jump out of the water?
Stephen Lyons, it is a strange question…it is fishy! Have you been a fish in your past life, or are you planning to be born as a fish in the future?
I don’t know much about the fish and their minds, but I guess that they must be just like you: getting tired of the same ocean, the same water, the obvious. They must be jumping out of the water just to see what is beyond. They must be in search of enlightenment, nirvana. Or perhaps, trying to get out of the known, to have some taste of the unknown.
The Indian mythology is that the first incarnation of God happened in the form of a fish. That seems to be very relevant, because that’s what biologists say: that life must have started in the ocean as a fish.
Then compare… Even the fish is curious, inquiring. And there are millions of men who are not curious at all, not inquiring at all, who are living with stuffed ideas – borrowed rubbish from others – who are not explorers. The fish jumping out of the water shows you that you have fallen even below that.
A Christian remains a Christian, a Hindu remains a Hindu, a Mohammedan remains a Mohammedan – not only that, they brag. They are far worse than the most primitive form of life, the fish. One should inquire, one should explore. It is accidental that you are born a Hindu or a Mohammedan; it is not your destiny. Explore, jump out of the water, look around. There are millions of possibilities available, and the more you explore the more you are. The more you go into the unknown the more integrated you become. The challenge of the unknown is the most centering phenomenon in life.
Perhaps the fishes are jumping out of water just to listen to a few of my jokes.
Mrs. Cantor suspected her husband of playing around with the maid.
Having to spend a few days with her sick mother, she told her small son, Harvey, to keep an eye on Poppa and the maid.
As soon as she returned she asked, “Harvey, did anything happen?”
“Well,” said the boy, “Poppa and the maid went into the bedroom and took off their clothes and…”
“Stop! Stop!” shouted Mrs. Cantor. “We will wait until Poppa comes home.”
Poppa was met at the door by his irate wife, cringing maid and confused son. “Harvey, tell me what happened with Poppa and the maid,” stormed Mrs. Cantor.
“As I told you, Ma,” said Harvey, “Poppa and the maid went into the bedroom and took off their clothes.”
“Yes! Yes! Go on, Harvey,” said Mrs. Cantor impatiently, “what did they do then?”
Replied Harvey, “Why, Mother, they did the same thing you and Uncle Bernie did when Poppa was in Chicago.”
So, when you see again a fish jumping out of the water, please tell a joke.
A pretty girl walked up to a tall handsome man.
“Ohhh,” she sighed, “you have such big muscular arms!”
“Yes,” he responded, making a fist with one hand. He then pointed with the other hand to his muscles and said, “Eight inches! I measured them this morning.”
“Ohhh,” said the girl with admiration, “and you have such a big beautiful chest!”
The man laughed, stretched his arms in the air, and said, “Thirty-five inches! I measured it this morning.”
The girl was amazed. She looked down at him, pointed her finger at his cock and asked, “How long?”
“Two inches,” he replied.
“Only?” the girl asked disappointed.
The he-man took a deep breath, looked at the girl and said, “Measured from the floor, of course!”
Can you make a religion out of my jokes? Can you make a dead institution out of my jokes? It is impossible.
The last question:
Osho,
There is no more bottle, no more you, no more I, only this drunken joy that makes my toes curl in ecstasy. But, Osho, what was the joke?
The ultimate joke, the only joke…
The official, Riko, once asked Nansen to explain to him the old problem of the goose in the bottle.
“If a man puts a gosling into a bottle,” said Riko, “and feeds him until he is full-grown, how can the man get the goose out without killing it or breaking the bottle?”
Nansen gave a clap with his hands and shouted, “Riko!”
“Yes, Master,” said the official with a start.
“See,” said Nansen, “the goose is out.”
This is the only ultimate joke in existence. You are enlightened! You are buddhas, pretending not to be, pretending to be somebody else. And my whole work here is to expose you.
The goose is out! You will make every effort to put it back into the bottle, because once the goose is out then you don’t have any problems. Man knows only how to live with problems, he does not know how to live without problems, so he goes on putting the goose back into the bottle.
There is a beautiful poem of Rabindranath Tagore.
He says: I was searching for God for thousands of lives. I saw him…sometimes far away, close to a distant star. I rushed on. By the time I reached that place he had gone further ahead. It went on and on. Finally I arrived at a door, and on the door there was a signboard: “This is the house where God lives” – Lao Tzu House!
Rabindranath says, “I became very worried for the first time. I became very troubled. Trembling, I went up the stairs. I was just going to knock on the door and suddenly, like a flash, I saw the whole point. If I knock on the door and God opens the door, then what? Then everything is finished – my journeys, my pilgrimages, my great adventures, my philosophy, my poetry, all my longings of the heart – all is finished! It will be suicide.
“Seeing the point so crystal clear,” Rabindranath says, “I removed my shoes from my feet, because getting back down the stairs may create some noise – he may open the door! Then what? And since the moment I reached the bottom of the steps I have not looked back. I have been running and running for thousands of years. I am still searching for God, although now I know where he lives. So I only have to avoid Lao Tzu House, and I can go on searching everywhere else for him. There is no fear…but I have to avoid that house. That house haunts me; I remember it perfectly. If by chance accidentally I enter into that house, then all is finished.”
It is a beautiful insight.
Man lives in problems; man lives in misery. To live without problems, to live without misery, needs real courage.
I have lived without any problems for twenty-five years, and I know it is a kind of suicide. I simply go on sitting in my room doing nothing. There is nothing to do!
If you can allow so much silence to penetrate your very being, only then you will be able to leave the goose out of the bottle. Otherwise, for a moment maybe…again you will push the goose back into the bottle. That gives you an occupation; keeps you occupied, keeps you concerned, worried, anxious. The moment there are no problems, there is no mind. The moment there are no problems, there is no ego. The ego and the mind can exist only in the turmoil of problems.
As I see it, man creates problems to nourish his ego. If there are no real problems he will invent them. He is bound to invent them, otherwise his mind cannot function anymore.
This is my simple declaration: that all is divine. The trees and the rocks and the stones and the mountains and the stars – all are divine. The goose has never been in the bottle. It is only man who cannot live without problems who forces the goose into the bottle; and then he starts asking how to get it out. Then he makes impossible conditions: first, the bottle should not be broken, then the goose should not be killed.
Now the goose is big, it is filling the whole bottle. It is impossible to fulfill the conditions. Either the bottle has to be broken – that is not allowed; or the goose has to be killed – that is not allowed. You have to bring the goose out without killing it and without destroying the bottle. That is not possible, in the very nature of things. Aes dhammo sanantano: this is how life’s law is, it is not possible. So man remains happy because it is not possible, so he can go on carrying the bottle.
I see you carrying the bottle with the goose… But the truth is that the bottle is only your imagination, fantasy, just made of the same stuff dreams are made of.
This is the most difficult thing for humanity to accept. Hence, so much opposition to me – because I am telling you that you are gods, that you are buddhas, that there is no other god than you. That is the most difficult thing to accept. You would like to be a sinner, you would like to be guilty, you would like to be thrown into hell; but you cannot accept that you are a buddha, the awakened one, because then all problems are solved. And when problems are solved, you start disappearing. And to disappear into the whole is the only thing worth doing, is the only thing of any significance.
What I am telling to you is not a teaching. This place is a device – this is a buddhafield. I have to take away things which you don’t have, and I have to give you things which you already have. You need not be grateful to me at all, because I am not giving you anything new. I am simply helping you to remember. You have forgotten the language of your being.
I have come to recognize it: I have remembered myself. And since the day I remembered myself I have been in a strange situation: I feel compassion for you, and deep down I also giggle at you, because you are not really in trouble. You don’t need compassion, you need hammering! You need to be hit hard on the head! Your suffering is bogus. Ecstasy is your very nature.
You are truth, you are love; you are bliss, you are freedom.
Enough for today.