Compassion vs Pity

Another friend has asked: How do you differentiate among compassion, nonviolence, pity, and love? Don’t they all mean the same?

Pity does not bring revolution; that is why revolution has not come to India. Pity rather blocks revolution. Because pity gives a beggar two coins, but it does not go in search of why beggars are produced in the first place. And when the beggar gets two coins, he too feels relief. He too does not reach that limit where he grabs the donor by the neck and says, “We will not take this charity. First you pick our pockets and then you give us alms. First you make us beggars and then you arrive to give us charity. First you suck our blood and then you build hospitals for us where ‘blood donation’ is conducted. What kind of net is this?” No, pity does not allow even this to happen. Pity becomes a consolation. And the poor feel that the rich are so “pitiful.” Nothing has shielded the rich…

Osho, you have said that in liberated souls compassion remains, and that compassion is the subtlest form of desire. In desire there is always conflict, always two—two mutually opposed. In that case, what is the opposing element of compassion that still remains in liberated souls?

First, not that compassion is a subtle form of desire; compassion is desire’s ultimate form. There is a difference. By “ultimate form” I mean the bridge between desire and desirelessness. If you wish, you can call compassion the final form of desire, or you can call it the first form of desirelessness. It is the link in-between where desire ends and desirelessness begins. Compassion is not a subtle form of desire. If it were, there would be duality in compassion too. Desire is always dual. No one can be free of duality within desire. Therefore there is suffering in desire, because wherever there is duality, there is suffering. So however pleasurable desire may seem, its painful counterpart will always be standing right behind it; it cannot be avoided. Thus every desire, at a certain limit, turns into its opposite. The opposite of each desire is present instantaneously; it is never…

Osho, I have been reflecting on the difference between 'feeling sorry' for someone and 'having compassion'. It seems to me that to be sorry for someone has an element of condescension in it, as if you were superior to the other, and that it does not necessarily have anything to do with love, whereas compassion must be an integral part of loving. Please comment.

The first and the most important thing to remember is that reflecting is not going to help at all. 'Reflecting' is nothing but a beautiful word for 'thinking'. The blind man can go on thinking about light, he can arrive at certain conclusions too, but those conclusions cannot be right. Howsoever right they appear to be, they are bound to be false, untrue. The moon in the sky is one thing and the moon reflected in the silent lake is totally another. One exists, the other is only a reflection. If you jump into the silent lake you will not be able to catch hold of the moon; on the contrary, you may even disturb the reflection because the lake will be disturbed. The more you think, the more you are creating waves and ripples in the mind. The real thing for the blind man to do is not to…

Osho, what is compassion?

Man goes on living like a robot, functioning well, efficiently. In fact, the more like a robot you are, the better you function, the better the society feels with you -- because it is a society of robots. To be awakened, alert, conscious here is dangerous. It is a society of blind people; to have eyes is to invite danger. But without creating consciousness you will never be able to know the beauty, the blessing that God has bestowed upon you. You will never know the great opportunity that has been given for you to grow, to become. You can be sunlit peaks and you are just dark holes! "Shit!" said Polaris. "I got a real jolt in court this morning. The judge fined me five hundred dollars for attempting to rape some broad I met on the subway. And then when he took a good look at her he…

Osho, what is the fundamental anguish of human life?

There is only one anguish: that a human being cannot become what he was born to be. There is only one anguish: that the seed remains a seed and does not bloom like a flower; that it cannot scatter its fragrance to the infinite winds; cannot converse with the moon and stars; cannot offer its colors to the sky; cannot be expressed. If the poem within the poet cannot be revealed—anguish. If the painter cannot paint—anguish. If the dancer cannot dance—if chains lie on his feet—anguish. Anguish means only this: that what we are meant to be—our innate nature and destiny—does not come to fruition, and we are forced to be something else. Then anguish is born. Then melancholy gathers over life. And all those countless people you see burdened with sorrow, living in a kind of hell—the reason is only this: each has come carrying the seed of becoming…