Dhyan Ke Kamal #8
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Read in Original Hindi (मूल हिन्दी)
Questions in this Discourse
Osho, in the morning meditation the body disappears completely. What remains feels immense, beyond all limits and ends. But after meditation, through the rest of the day, the sense of the body returns; once again the small, limited body is experienced. So is all this only the play of the ego?
Three things should be kept in mind in this regard. First, as meditation deepens, the body will disappear; or sometimes it will become very vast; or sometimes it may feel very minute, very small—smaller than it “is.” The body’s appearance depends on the mind. If the mind expands greatly, the body seems expanded; if the mind contracts, the body seems small. In fact, the boundary of the body is perceived through the boundary of the mind. This is confirmed by experience. And it is not the play of the ego; it is the outcome of meditation.
After meditation it is natural that the body again appears as it ordinarily is. There is nothing to worry about in this. For friends to whom this is happening, whenever during the day they have the opportunity—even for a moment or two—close your eyes and again keep experiencing the body’s vastness. Do this two or four times a day. Before sleep at night, again; on waking in the morning, again for a couple of moments. Whoever is having this experience will be able to re-enter it as soon as the eyes are closed.
The result will be that gradually you will come to know that the body is a play of the mind. Its becoming small or big, young or old, being born and dying—this is all the mind’s play. And when the body can change so many forms before you, the identification with the body will break. You will no longer be able to take yourself as the body. A body that, like a dream, becomes small and big, disappears and reappears—you will not be able to remain one with such a body. Rather, the body’s fixed form, the definite image we have maintained, will slowly begin to wobble. The fixation—the body-fixation, the solid image that has settled upon you—will melt and fall away. And gradually you will begin to experience yourself as bodiless. Before the bodiless experience, the experience of many forms of the body is very helpful.
For now you know only one form of the body, the outline of your physical frame, and you have made yourself one with it. If during the day it keeps happening five or ten times that the body becomes small, becomes big, becomes vast—sometimes present, sometimes gone—then slowly, in the midst of this stream of the body, this changing flow of forms, the witness will arise by itself. Then you will experience: I am that which sees the body becoming small, sees it becoming big, sees it disappearing, sees it appearing. I am not the body; I am the seer of bodies.
So whoever is having such an experience should enter it again two or four times a day. This is the play of the mind’s expansion and contraction. It is not the play of the ego—but it can become the play of the ego if you become very proud that a great attainment has happened: that you can experience the body becoming big or small. If you take any egoic relish in this—that I have gained something others have not—then the play of the ego will begin. And the ego can strengthen itself even through the preliminary experiences of meditation. And often, wherever the ego begins, meditation stops. Therefore do not take this as anything special, as if some great event is happening. Understand it as a natural result of meditation. There is no reason here to become proud, or to feel yourself higher or different from others.
And this information is useful for all seekers entering meditation: whatever happens, whatever experience arises, do not let that experience become food for the ego. It is no reason to regard yourself as special. The moment we accept, “I have become someone special—because I saw light, because I felt energy moving upward, because I experienced the presence of the divine”—the moment we accept that something special has happened to me, we have begun to feed the ego. And the moment any attainment gets linked with the ego, that very moment the further journey of attainment is blocked. And when something is blocked, you cannot remain standing at that point; very soon you will fall back down.
After meditation it is natural that the body again appears as it ordinarily is. There is nothing to worry about in this. For friends to whom this is happening, whenever during the day they have the opportunity—even for a moment or two—close your eyes and again keep experiencing the body’s vastness. Do this two or four times a day. Before sleep at night, again; on waking in the morning, again for a couple of moments. Whoever is having this experience will be able to re-enter it as soon as the eyes are closed.
The result will be that gradually you will come to know that the body is a play of the mind. Its becoming small or big, young or old, being born and dying—this is all the mind’s play. And when the body can change so many forms before you, the identification with the body will break. You will no longer be able to take yourself as the body. A body that, like a dream, becomes small and big, disappears and reappears—you will not be able to remain one with such a body. Rather, the body’s fixed form, the definite image we have maintained, will slowly begin to wobble. The fixation—the body-fixation, the solid image that has settled upon you—will melt and fall away. And gradually you will begin to experience yourself as bodiless. Before the bodiless experience, the experience of many forms of the body is very helpful.
For now you know only one form of the body, the outline of your physical frame, and you have made yourself one with it. If during the day it keeps happening five or ten times that the body becomes small, becomes big, becomes vast—sometimes present, sometimes gone—then slowly, in the midst of this stream of the body, this changing flow of forms, the witness will arise by itself. Then you will experience: I am that which sees the body becoming small, sees it becoming big, sees it disappearing, sees it appearing. I am not the body; I am the seer of bodies.
So whoever is having such an experience should enter it again two or four times a day. This is the play of the mind’s expansion and contraction. It is not the play of the ego—but it can become the play of the ego if you become very proud that a great attainment has happened: that you can experience the body becoming big or small. If you take any egoic relish in this—that I have gained something others have not—then the play of the ego will begin. And the ego can strengthen itself even through the preliminary experiences of meditation. And often, wherever the ego begins, meditation stops. Therefore do not take this as anything special, as if some great event is happening. Understand it as a natural result of meditation. There is no reason here to become proud, or to feel yourself higher or different from others.
And this information is useful for all seekers entering meditation: whatever happens, whatever experience arises, do not let that experience become food for the ego. It is no reason to regard yourself as special. The moment we accept, “I have become someone special—because I saw light, because I felt energy moving upward, because I experienced the presence of the divine”—the moment we accept that something special has happened to me, we have begun to feed the ego. And the moment any attainment gets linked with the ego, that very moment the further journey of attainment is blocked. And when something is blocked, you cannot remain standing at that point; very soon you will fall back down.
A friend has asked:
Osho, on the first day I had a very deep experience, and from the second day onward I can see the path, but the same experience is not happening.
Osho, on the first day I had a very deep experience, and from the second day onward I can see the path, but the same experience is not happening.
It will not. Because the experience of the first day has already become a part of the ego. Suppose a very deep experience happened to me. From the second day the ego will wait for it: it must happen to me, because it has happened before. If it does not, frustration and melancholy will seize the mind.
And remember: wherever the ego has tasted, wherever the ego has breathed, the process stops. So if a deep experience happens to you, let it happen. Then please forget it. There is no need to make it a part of memory. And there is no need to wait for it the next day. No need to expect it either. On the first day it happened precisely because your ego had no idea it could happen; the ego was silent. Now, on the second day, it will not happen, because the ego is standing within, saying, When will it happen? Now it should happen. Because it happened to me, now it should happen again. Now you have become aggressive toward that experience. You are no longer passive. You are no longer waiting; you are expecting. On the first day you knew nothing.
Therefore it often happens that when you know nothing—indeed, when you “know” that nothing will happen—then it happens, because the ego is not in between. Once it happens, the trouble begins, because the ego stands up. It says, All right—now it must happen to me. And then it stops happening.
In this inner journey, forget words like “it must happen.” There are no conditions here. If you clutch at what has happened too tightly, it may never happen again. And it often happens in the process of sadhana that when some profound realization descends for the first time, the seeker clings to it so badly that he cannot attain it again in that lifetime. Then one has to wait for another birth, until the memory is completely pressed down and forgotten.
So be alert: sometimes even happening can prove more dangerous than not happening, if the ego has savored it. Even if it does happen to you, do not take it as “I attained”; take it as the Lord’s compassion.
There is a difference. That is why, after meditation, I keep telling you to accept the Lord’s grace—so that you remember it is his benediction, not my achievement. I did not get it; he gave it. If I attained it, I will try to attain it again tomorrow. But if he gave it, I will wait. To give is his will; not to give is his will.
And remember—I say to all of you—give thanks, both when something is happening and when nothing is happening. Because if you thank only when he is giving and do not thank when he is not, your thanksgiving will also become part of the ego. When nothing happens, there too there should be gratitude.
Why? Because when it happens, grace is easy to understand: something happened to me, so I give thanks. When it does not happen, grace and gratitude do not seem to make sense. But this is the secret of grace: only if you can give thanks even when nothing happens will your thanks, when it does happen, be gratitude; otherwise that too will be ego.
But how? When nothing happens, what should we thank for? Then we should thank for this: perhaps I am not yet prepared, perhaps I am not yet worthy, perhaps I am not yet a fit vessel. Perhaps if the experience happens now, it may harm me. Therefore it is his kindness that he has not given it yet.
Two points—understand the difference. The ego will say: when it happens, I am deserving, I am qualified, skillful, a true seeker—therefore it happened to me. And when it does not happen, the ego will feel hurt; instead of thankfulness, somewhere within a line of anger will move. This is dangerous. The seeker needs the opposite stance.
When it happens, you should take it that I was not worthy, not qualified; it was not my capacity—yet by the Lord’s compassion it happened. And when it does not happen, you should know that this too is his compassion. Perhaps if this experience were to happen now, it would be unwholesome, inauspicious for me; therefore he has held it back. Otherwise, there is no limit to his compassion. A seeker who moves with this attitude does not allow the ego to play its games. Otherwise, compared to the outer world, the achievements of the inner world are even more tasty to the ego, and a stiffness, an arrogance, arises within. It is useful to be wary of that.
And remember: wherever the ego has tasted, wherever the ego has breathed, the process stops. So if a deep experience happens to you, let it happen. Then please forget it. There is no need to make it a part of memory. And there is no need to wait for it the next day. No need to expect it either. On the first day it happened precisely because your ego had no idea it could happen; the ego was silent. Now, on the second day, it will not happen, because the ego is standing within, saying, When will it happen? Now it should happen. Because it happened to me, now it should happen again. Now you have become aggressive toward that experience. You are no longer passive. You are no longer waiting; you are expecting. On the first day you knew nothing.
Therefore it often happens that when you know nothing—indeed, when you “know” that nothing will happen—then it happens, because the ego is not in between. Once it happens, the trouble begins, because the ego stands up. It says, All right—now it must happen to me. And then it stops happening.
In this inner journey, forget words like “it must happen.” There are no conditions here. If you clutch at what has happened too tightly, it may never happen again. And it often happens in the process of sadhana that when some profound realization descends for the first time, the seeker clings to it so badly that he cannot attain it again in that lifetime. Then one has to wait for another birth, until the memory is completely pressed down and forgotten.
So be alert: sometimes even happening can prove more dangerous than not happening, if the ego has savored it. Even if it does happen to you, do not take it as “I attained”; take it as the Lord’s compassion.
There is a difference. That is why, after meditation, I keep telling you to accept the Lord’s grace—so that you remember it is his benediction, not my achievement. I did not get it; he gave it. If I attained it, I will try to attain it again tomorrow. But if he gave it, I will wait. To give is his will; not to give is his will.
And remember—I say to all of you—give thanks, both when something is happening and when nothing is happening. Because if you thank only when he is giving and do not thank when he is not, your thanksgiving will also become part of the ego. When nothing happens, there too there should be gratitude.
Why? Because when it happens, grace is easy to understand: something happened to me, so I give thanks. When it does not happen, grace and gratitude do not seem to make sense. But this is the secret of grace: only if you can give thanks even when nothing happens will your thanks, when it does happen, be gratitude; otherwise that too will be ego.
But how? When nothing happens, what should we thank for? Then we should thank for this: perhaps I am not yet prepared, perhaps I am not yet worthy, perhaps I am not yet a fit vessel. Perhaps if the experience happens now, it may harm me. Therefore it is his kindness that he has not given it yet.
Two points—understand the difference. The ego will say: when it happens, I am deserving, I am qualified, skillful, a true seeker—therefore it happened to me. And when it does not happen, the ego will feel hurt; instead of thankfulness, somewhere within a line of anger will move. This is dangerous. The seeker needs the opposite stance.
When it happens, you should take it that I was not worthy, not qualified; it was not my capacity—yet by the Lord’s compassion it happened. And when it does not happen, you should know that this too is his compassion. Perhaps if this experience were to happen now, it would be unwholesome, inauspicious for me; therefore he has held it back. Otherwise, there is no limit to his compassion. A seeker who moves with this attitude does not allow the ego to play its games. Otherwise, compared to the outer world, the achievements of the inner world are even more tasty to the ego, and a stiffness, an arrogance, arises within. It is useful to be wary of that.
A friend has asked: Osho, he has suffered from heart disease; will this dancing, this jumping be dangerous for his health?
It’s a little difficult to say, because it depends on many things. If he forgets the body and keeps only the divine in remembrance, then it can never be harmful. But if he does not remember the divine and keeps remembering the heart’s weakness, then it can be very harmful. It depends. Where is your attention? If you have forgotten your body, then no harm can ever befall you. And even if harm does occur, that too is a gain.
To begin with, no harm can happen, because there is no reason. One who has surrendered his body wholly to the divine—his heart and its beating are no longer his responsibility; they are in the divine’s hands. And the same divine whose effortless presence keeps such a vast universe moving—there is no reason to think your heartbeat would not move by that very effortless presence. And if, in a moment suffused with remembrance, the heartbeat were to stop, one should feel blessed. For the heartbeat will stop someday anyway; who knows whether, at that time, this moment of remembrance will be with you or not.
First, there will be no harm; but even what we call harm—if it happens in the remembrance of the divine—there is no more auspicious moment than that. That is the very moment, the very juncture, from which the one who goes does not return.
But if, out of this very fear—that something might go wrong with the heart—you dance and jump while filled with thoughts of the heart, then harm is certain to happen. So it depends on you.
Understand this well. And if you are immersed only in thoughts of the heart, then don’t do it. Don’t do it. But keep one thing in mind: the heartbeat is bound to stop! How long will you keep managing it? And even by managing it, what will you gain? You will only keep being scared. What is the attainment in that? If the body goes on a few days more, what is the attainment in that?
The very purpose of the body is that we may come to know the bodiless. If, in knowing the bodiless, the body itself becomes an obstacle, then there is no reason, no meaning, in holding on to that body. If you have that much courage, then dance and jump with joy. If you live, it’s fine; if you dissolve in it, that too is fine. If you don’t have that much courage, then take care of yourself and don’t enter into that process.
To begin with, no harm can happen, because there is no reason. One who has surrendered his body wholly to the divine—his heart and its beating are no longer his responsibility; they are in the divine’s hands. And the same divine whose effortless presence keeps such a vast universe moving—there is no reason to think your heartbeat would not move by that very effortless presence. And if, in a moment suffused with remembrance, the heartbeat were to stop, one should feel blessed. For the heartbeat will stop someday anyway; who knows whether, at that time, this moment of remembrance will be with you or not.
First, there will be no harm; but even what we call harm—if it happens in the remembrance of the divine—there is no more auspicious moment than that. That is the very moment, the very juncture, from which the one who goes does not return.
But if, out of this very fear—that something might go wrong with the heart—you dance and jump while filled with thoughts of the heart, then harm is certain to happen. So it depends on you.
Understand this well. And if you are immersed only in thoughts of the heart, then don’t do it. Don’t do it. But keep one thing in mind: the heartbeat is bound to stop! How long will you keep managing it? And even by managing it, what will you gain? You will only keep being scared. What is the attainment in that? If the body goes on a few days more, what is the attainment in that?
The very purpose of the body is that we may come to know the bodiless. If, in knowing the bodiless, the body itself becomes an obstacle, then there is no reason, no meaning, in holding on to that body. If you have that much courage, then dance and jump with joy. If you live, it’s fine; if you dissolve in it, that too is fine. If you don’t have that much courage, then take care of yourself and don’t enter into that process.
Another friend has asked: Osho, can this meditation not happen without dancing and jumping?
Meditation can happen. It can happen without doing anything. But it will not happen for those who have asked. Meditation can happen without the slightest tremor. Meditation means a state where there is no movement, where all vibrations have stilled. But for the one who is afraid of dancing, or thinks he can avoid it, it will not happen. And then he will become afraid of everything.
I have used I don’t know how many methods of meditation. Whichever method I use, people immediately ask, “Can’t it be done without this?” If I tell them, “Do deep breathing,” they come and ask, “Isn’t there some trick so we don’t have to do deep breathing, so we don’t have to take these deep breaths?”
I tell people, “Lie down quietly.” They come back and say, “Nothing happens by lying down quietly.” I say, “Do nothing, just remain in silence.” They say, “We do fall silent, but thoughts go on inside. Please tell us another way.”
The very mind from which you are taking this advice—the mind that keeps saying, “Tell us another way”—will go on saying it, whatever the meditation method is. Because it is afraid of dying. That mind is afraid of dying. And meditation is the death of the mind. From every side it will try to stop you.
So drop this worry that there could be some other trick.
No! Because the mind that is raising obstacles in this method will raise obstacles in every method. For every method it will say, “What is the need of this?”
A friend came; he said, “I do want to take sannyas, but not in ochre robes. What is the need for ochre robes?” I said to him, “Then what is the need for sannyas at all? Drop that idea!”
“No, I do want to take sannyas.”
So I said, “What is the need for the clothes you are already wearing? You’ve worn them for fifty years—what have you gained? Then why this panic about changing them?”
“No,” he said, “what will ochre robes do?”
I told him, “If they will do nothing, then change them—what’s the problem? If changing makes you afraid, then certainly something will happen.” The person who comes to me ready, saying, “All right, put ochre on me, or put black on me, or tell me to be naked and I’ll be naked”—to him I will not say, “Change your clothes.” He will gain nothing from that. I will say, “As you are is fine; proceed.”
But the person who says, “No; this will be a bit troublesome”—he is the one who is going to be benefited. The trouble is arising in the very mind we intend to break. The irony is that the one for whom it would make no difference does not obstruct; he says, “I agree.” And the one for whom it could make a difference, he raises the obstruction. In fact, only the one for whom changing clothes could make a difference brings the obstacle. The one for whom changing clothes could make a difference is exactly the one who brings the obstacle.
The friend who has asked whether there is no method other than dancing—if he were lame, one could understand; if bedridden, paralyzed, then I would show him a way. But if the legs are fine, no paralysis, and he can dance, then let him dance; for him, it will happen through dance.
The fear you have of dancing—if that very fear breaks through dance, then inside a great movement will begin. Fear itself is our disturbance. We are afraid of everything. People take the mala from me, then walk with it hidden under their shirts.
Its very purpose is finished. If it had to be hidden inside the shirt, then what was the harm if it were not there at all? It amounts to the same thing. There is no meaning left. There is even the fear that someone may ask, “Why are you wearing this mala?” As if you are responsible to tell the whole world what I wear and what I don’t. What right does anyone have to ask? And yet there isn’t even enough courage to say, “My neck is mine; if I want to put a mala around it, why are you troubled? At least give me this much freedom—that if I want to put something around my own neck, I can put it on or take it off.”
One who cannot even put a mala around his own neck should understand clearly that society has put a noose around his neck—and he agrees to the hanging. If even your neck is not yours enough that you can wear a mala, then what else will be yours? And if your body is not yours enough that, if you wish, you can wear saffron clothes, will you have your own soul?
If even your body is not yours, then the soul is a faraway matter. You have nothing of your own. You are only a social product, a social fabrication. In truth you are not; you are society’s construct. Wear what society wants. Rise as society says. Sit as society says. You are not.
So what is the fear of dancing?—that someone may say something?
Let them say it!
There was a Sufi fakir, Hasan. Whenever anyone came to him, before initiating him into sannyas he would say, “Get naked and take one round of the village; then I will initiate you.”
The man would say, “What are you saying? I’ve come to take sannyas—what will happen by going naked around the village?”
Hasan would say, “Whether something happens or not, I know. You take the round; without it I don’t initiate. Because the person who cannot endure others’ laughter cannot go within. One who does not have the courage to appear mad in others’ eyes will not find the means to go on any deep search.”
Whoever goes deep into anything in this world—whether scientists going deep into matter, they too must show a readiness to be called mad; or poets going deep into the experience of beauty, they too must show a readiness to be called mad; and saints going into the ultimate mystery, they too must show a readiness to be called mad.
Whether Buddha or Mahavira, Christ or Mohammed or Krishna—people of their own times first look at them with great suspicion and doubt. At first they simply appear mad. It takes thousands of years before we are able to consider them wise. Thousands of years—only then do we accept them as wise. Otherwise we do not accept them as wise; they are just madmen.
Einstein was taken to be mad until 1919. Until the announcement of the Nobel Prize, he was a madman.
He once went to a hotel—he was a little hurried and tired. The waiter brought the menu and placed it before him. Einstein said to the waiter, “You see what’s there and bring whatever is suitable, quickly.”
The waiter brought the food. Einstein thanked him. As he turned to go, the waiter said, “Send your friends who, like you, are uneducated—I will serve them too.”
Einstein said, “Uneducated?” Then he remembered he hadn’t read the menu. He asked the waiter, “Seeing me, how did you think I was uneducated?”
The waiter said, “Another thought came to me, but out of courtesy I didn’t say it. You look mad. Your wild hair, your big, wide-open eyes—you look mad. Those furrows on your forehead. And when you were eating, I felt you were not present at the table at all, you were somewhere else. So you look mad; but out of courtesy I said: if uneducated people like you want to come, send them—I will always be ready to serve them.”
Whoever goes into a deep search needs the courage to be mad. The whole meaning of the courage to be mad is simply this: if people laugh, give them an opportunity to laugh. There is no harm in it. Nothing of yours is harmed, and they too will benefit a little from their laughter. Physicians say laughter is a great tonic. If because of you four people laugh, you have done social service. Drop this worry.
Now let us go into meditation; prepare to be mad.
Those who have only come to watch, please kindly go to the chairs. Not a single onlooker should remain inside. And those who want to participate, leave the chairs and come into the open space. Spread out at a distance from one another so that you can dance properly.
Spread out, keep distance, don’t talk. And those who have come to watch, please sit quietly—that is my one request. While the meditation is on, do not talk; just watch silently. If you feel like it, sitting there you may join the kirtan, but silently. You may clap, you may sing the kirtan, but you will not converse among yourselves. And please be seated; if you keep standing you will get tired in an hour—please sit on the chairs. And those who are standing for the meditation, spread out at a distance. Women, please keep a little space, otherwise you won’t be able to dance.
Spread out, spread out. And put in your whole energy. And be immersed with full feeling and joy.
(In the first stage, for fifteen minutes, kirtan continues to the beat of music.)
Govind bolo, Hari Gopal bolo
Govind bolo, Hari Gopal bolo
Govind bolo, Hari Gopal bolo...
Radha Raman Hari Gopal bolo
Radha Raman Hari Gopal bolo
Radha Raman Hari Gopal bolo...
(In the second stage, for fifteen minutes only the rhythm continues, and in the intense expression of feeling, crying, laughing, dancing, shouting and so on go on. After thirty minutes, in the third stage Osho again begins to give suggestions.)
Enough. Now close your eyes and hold all your energy within. Now neither dance nor sway, make no sound. Close the eyes completely and gather all energy inward.
No—now make no sound… stop, stop—stop the sound… stop the dancing and jumping, stop all movement of the body… become absolutely still, let the energy remain within… close your eyes, let the energy settle inside; the energy that has been awakened should remain within… close your eyes, let all the senses relax, leave the body like a corpse… the energy will begin to rise within… the work of energy within will begin…
Now place the palm of your right hand on your forehead, on the spot between the two eyes, between the two eyebrows, and slowly rub the spot up and down and sideways. Now put your right hand palm on the forehead between the eyebrows and rub it slowly up and down and sideways… and just by rubbing, something opens inside, something begins to happen, a door suddenly opens…
Rub, rub—something will begin to happen within, as if a door suddenly opens and you enter another world… as you rub, light spreads within—only light spreads within…
Now stop rubbing and become one with that light… Now stop rubbing—the door is open—now be one with the light… Stop; the light has spread within—become one with it, drown in it. There is only light, infinite light… only light, infinite light… lost in the ocean of light, one with it, one with the light… only light, as if thousands of suns have risen together… only light… experience the light… forget yourself, experience the light…
Now forget yourself; just be a witness to the light… remember only the light, forget yourself… forget yourself, remember only the light… light, light, light… lost in an ocean of light—like a fish is in the sea, so are you one in the ocean of light…
This is the first step. To feel this light is the first step. Do not withhold; feel, experience the light…
Those who are not able to experience it, to whom the idea of light does not come, place both palms over the eyes and gently press the eyes.
Those who are not able to feel this light, they should put both palms over the eyes, and then press your palms on the eyes… don’t rub, just press… don’t rub, just press gently…
Only light, infinite light, as if thousands of suns have risen… light, more light, infinite light… now feel it, now be one with it…
Become one, become one, become one—be one with the light… forget yourself, remember only the light… forget yourself, remember only the light… let yourself go, remember only the light… light, light, infinite light… drowned in the ocean of light, like a drop falling into the ocean…
Forget yourself, forget totally—only remember the light all around… you are not; only the light remains… forget yourself, remember the light, feel the light… forget, forget yourself… let go of yourself, let go… remember: only light, light all around… lost in an ocean of light… experience, experience…
If the first step is not taken, entry into the second becomes difficult… take the first step; if the first is not taken, the second becomes impossible…
Light, light, light, light, light… Following light comes bliss… following light comes bliss… in truth, light condensed becomes bliss… experience the light and the stream of bliss that follows from behind… within, only bliss spreads…
Now take the second step… feel bliss… truly, to feel light deeply and intensely is to feel bliss… and light itself, concentrated, becomes bliss…
Experience it—light, becoming dense, condensed, turns into bliss. Take the leap into the second step—experience bliss… every pore tingles with bliss… every heartbeat dances with bliss… body-mind are filled with bliss… like an empty pitcher placed under the sky in the rain fills drop by drop, so bliss goes on filling your heart… bliss, bliss, bliss…
Now you are not—you have become just a vessel, just an emptiness… and bliss descends… and bliss fills you… be filled with it… be filled with it…
Experience, experience—experience bliss… let every pore be immersed in the experience… let every heartbeat be drenched… only bliss remains; life-breath, body, mind all become full of bliss… experience, experience, experience… bliss, bliss, bliss… be filled, be filled, be utterly filled… let no place within remain empty—be filled with bliss… let there remain only one note in the breath—the note of bliss. Let there remain only one throb in the heart—the throb of bliss. Be blissful, be blissful, be blissful… now be blissful, now be blissful… be blissful, be blissful… now be blissful, now be bliss…
Following bliss, the presence of the Divine is experienced. Bliss condensed becomes the presence of the Divine. Now take the third step, the ultimate, and feel the Divine Presence… now feel the Divine Presence all around… experience it—the presence of the Divine—only That is all around… we are lost, we are not—only That is… everywhere That alone is—inside and out That alone is… in the incoming breath, in the outgoing breath That alone is… experience, experience, experience… dissolve, and experience the Divine…
That alone surrounds you, that alone surrounds you… His grace is showering all around… That alone surrounds you… be lost, melt, flow… the Divine is present all around—become one, become one with That, become one with That… That alone is, That alone is—everywhere That alone is; His arms surround you from all sides… That alone is present—His embrace is all around… He is in the winds, He in the rays of the sun, He in the shade, He in the sunshine—everywhere He alone is… in the outgoing breath, in the incoming breath He alone is… in every heartbeat He alone is… let go of yourself, lose yourself… other than the Supreme, there is nothing at all…
Now only the Divine is… now only the Divine is… relax yourself, dissolve yourself… now only the Divine is…
He alone is touching, He alone is caressing… experience, experience… experience the Divine all around—inside, outside, all around… feel the Divine, feel the Divine… be lost, be dissolved, become one…
And now the final experience of meditation: He is not merely present—He alone is. We too are That. The last sutra: I myself am the Divine. Experience it, experience it: I myself am the Divine, I myself am the Divine. Now feel, not only the Presence, but your own divinity… now I am the Divine, now I am the Divine… experience it: Aham Brahmasmi! Experience it: I am Brahman, I am Brahman, I am Brahman…
Now once again place the palm of your right hand on your forehead between the eyebrows and rub gently. Much will happen within. Whatever happens, let it happen. Now put your right hand palm again on the forehead between the eyebrows and rub it. And whatsoever happens, let it happen inside.
Suddenly a barrier breaks, suddenly a door opens, suddenly you are transformed into something else… you become something else… rub, within some door opens, some obstacle falls away… and whatever happens within, let it happen… rub the forehead, the third-eye spot—rub up and down and sideways so that the third-eye spot is rubbed… rub it, and let whatever happens within, happen…
Now raise both hands toward the sky, open your eyes toward the sky. Now raise your both hands toward the sky and open your eyes—see the sky and let the sky see into you, into you…
Look at the sky, and let the sky look within you. Raise both hands toward the sky, open your eyes into the sky, let the sky peer into your depths and you peer into the sky. Let there be a communion between you and the sky. Let there be a communication between you and the sky…
A dialogue, an inner dialogue, a silent meeting… open your eyes toward the sky, both hands lifted… a silent communion between the sky and your heart… both hands stretched toward the sky in an embrace, eyes open—let the sky look deep within you… let the sky go deep inside you, let there be a communion…
And now, whatever feeling is in the heart, express it totally… now whatever feeling is in the heart, express it totally… now express whatsoever is inside—express it completely; now be mad in expressing it completely… become utterly mad—whatever is within, let it be expressed… whatever is within—if you feel like shouting, shout; if you feel like laughing, laugh; if you feel like crying, cry; if you feel like dancing, dance—whatever is within, express it completely… if the inside of you wants to laugh, laugh… if the inside wants to cry, cry… if the inside wants to dance, dance… but express it completely…
All right. Now join both hands and bow your head at the feet of the Divine. Now put your both palms in a namaskar posture and put your head at the feet of the Divine. Accept grace. Man alone is not enough; man is very weak, very helpless; without the Divine’s help nothing will happen. His grace is everything. Man alone is not enough. Man is weak and helpless, totally helpless. And without His grace nothing can happen. Without His grace there is no possibility. Without His grace man is impossible.
Accept grace. Say, from the depths of the heart within: The Divine’s grace is infinite, the Divine’s grace is infinite, the Divine’s grace is infinite.
Let the depths say: Thy grace is infinite, Thy grace is infinite, Thy grace is infinite. The Divine’s grace is infinite, the Divine’s grace is infinite, the Divine’s grace is infinite.
Now slowly take two or four deep breaths and come back from the meditation. Our morning sitting is complete. Take two or four deep breaths and gently return from meditation. Our morning sitting is complete.
I have used I don’t know how many methods of meditation. Whichever method I use, people immediately ask, “Can’t it be done without this?” If I tell them, “Do deep breathing,” they come and ask, “Isn’t there some trick so we don’t have to do deep breathing, so we don’t have to take these deep breaths?”
I tell people, “Lie down quietly.” They come back and say, “Nothing happens by lying down quietly.” I say, “Do nothing, just remain in silence.” They say, “We do fall silent, but thoughts go on inside. Please tell us another way.”
The very mind from which you are taking this advice—the mind that keeps saying, “Tell us another way”—will go on saying it, whatever the meditation method is. Because it is afraid of dying. That mind is afraid of dying. And meditation is the death of the mind. From every side it will try to stop you.
So drop this worry that there could be some other trick.
No! Because the mind that is raising obstacles in this method will raise obstacles in every method. For every method it will say, “What is the need of this?”
A friend came; he said, “I do want to take sannyas, but not in ochre robes. What is the need for ochre robes?” I said to him, “Then what is the need for sannyas at all? Drop that idea!”
“No, I do want to take sannyas.”
So I said, “What is the need for the clothes you are already wearing? You’ve worn them for fifty years—what have you gained? Then why this panic about changing them?”
“No,” he said, “what will ochre robes do?”
I told him, “If they will do nothing, then change them—what’s the problem? If changing makes you afraid, then certainly something will happen.” The person who comes to me ready, saying, “All right, put ochre on me, or put black on me, or tell me to be naked and I’ll be naked”—to him I will not say, “Change your clothes.” He will gain nothing from that. I will say, “As you are is fine; proceed.”
But the person who says, “No; this will be a bit troublesome”—he is the one who is going to be benefited. The trouble is arising in the very mind we intend to break. The irony is that the one for whom it would make no difference does not obstruct; he says, “I agree.” And the one for whom it could make a difference, he raises the obstruction. In fact, only the one for whom changing clothes could make a difference brings the obstacle. The one for whom changing clothes could make a difference is exactly the one who brings the obstacle.
The friend who has asked whether there is no method other than dancing—if he were lame, one could understand; if bedridden, paralyzed, then I would show him a way. But if the legs are fine, no paralysis, and he can dance, then let him dance; for him, it will happen through dance.
The fear you have of dancing—if that very fear breaks through dance, then inside a great movement will begin. Fear itself is our disturbance. We are afraid of everything. People take the mala from me, then walk with it hidden under their shirts.
Its very purpose is finished. If it had to be hidden inside the shirt, then what was the harm if it were not there at all? It amounts to the same thing. There is no meaning left. There is even the fear that someone may ask, “Why are you wearing this mala?” As if you are responsible to tell the whole world what I wear and what I don’t. What right does anyone have to ask? And yet there isn’t even enough courage to say, “My neck is mine; if I want to put a mala around it, why are you troubled? At least give me this much freedom—that if I want to put something around my own neck, I can put it on or take it off.”
One who cannot even put a mala around his own neck should understand clearly that society has put a noose around his neck—and he agrees to the hanging. If even your neck is not yours enough that you can wear a mala, then what else will be yours? And if your body is not yours enough that, if you wish, you can wear saffron clothes, will you have your own soul?
If even your body is not yours, then the soul is a faraway matter. You have nothing of your own. You are only a social product, a social fabrication. In truth you are not; you are society’s construct. Wear what society wants. Rise as society says. Sit as society says. You are not.
So what is the fear of dancing?—that someone may say something?
Let them say it!
There was a Sufi fakir, Hasan. Whenever anyone came to him, before initiating him into sannyas he would say, “Get naked and take one round of the village; then I will initiate you.”
The man would say, “What are you saying? I’ve come to take sannyas—what will happen by going naked around the village?”
Hasan would say, “Whether something happens or not, I know. You take the round; without it I don’t initiate. Because the person who cannot endure others’ laughter cannot go within. One who does not have the courage to appear mad in others’ eyes will not find the means to go on any deep search.”
Whoever goes deep into anything in this world—whether scientists going deep into matter, they too must show a readiness to be called mad; or poets going deep into the experience of beauty, they too must show a readiness to be called mad; and saints going into the ultimate mystery, they too must show a readiness to be called mad.
Whether Buddha or Mahavira, Christ or Mohammed or Krishna—people of their own times first look at them with great suspicion and doubt. At first they simply appear mad. It takes thousands of years before we are able to consider them wise. Thousands of years—only then do we accept them as wise. Otherwise we do not accept them as wise; they are just madmen.
Einstein was taken to be mad until 1919. Until the announcement of the Nobel Prize, he was a madman.
He once went to a hotel—he was a little hurried and tired. The waiter brought the menu and placed it before him. Einstein said to the waiter, “You see what’s there and bring whatever is suitable, quickly.”
The waiter brought the food. Einstein thanked him. As he turned to go, the waiter said, “Send your friends who, like you, are uneducated—I will serve them too.”
Einstein said, “Uneducated?” Then he remembered he hadn’t read the menu. He asked the waiter, “Seeing me, how did you think I was uneducated?”
The waiter said, “Another thought came to me, but out of courtesy I didn’t say it. You look mad. Your wild hair, your big, wide-open eyes—you look mad. Those furrows on your forehead. And when you were eating, I felt you were not present at the table at all, you were somewhere else. So you look mad; but out of courtesy I said: if uneducated people like you want to come, send them—I will always be ready to serve them.”
Whoever goes into a deep search needs the courage to be mad. The whole meaning of the courage to be mad is simply this: if people laugh, give them an opportunity to laugh. There is no harm in it. Nothing of yours is harmed, and they too will benefit a little from their laughter. Physicians say laughter is a great tonic. If because of you four people laugh, you have done social service. Drop this worry.
Now let us go into meditation; prepare to be mad.
Those who have only come to watch, please kindly go to the chairs. Not a single onlooker should remain inside. And those who want to participate, leave the chairs and come into the open space. Spread out at a distance from one another so that you can dance properly.
Spread out, keep distance, don’t talk. And those who have come to watch, please sit quietly—that is my one request. While the meditation is on, do not talk; just watch silently. If you feel like it, sitting there you may join the kirtan, but silently. You may clap, you may sing the kirtan, but you will not converse among yourselves. And please be seated; if you keep standing you will get tired in an hour—please sit on the chairs. And those who are standing for the meditation, spread out at a distance. Women, please keep a little space, otherwise you won’t be able to dance.
Spread out, spread out. And put in your whole energy. And be immersed with full feeling and joy.
(In the first stage, for fifteen minutes, kirtan continues to the beat of music.)
Govind bolo, Hari Gopal bolo
Govind bolo, Hari Gopal bolo
Govind bolo, Hari Gopal bolo...
Radha Raman Hari Gopal bolo
Radha Raman Hari Gopal bolo
Radha Raman Hari Gopal bolo...
(In the second stage, for fifteen minutes only the rhythm continues, and in the intense expression of feeling, crying, laughing, dancing, shouting and so on go on. After thirty minutes, in the third stage Osho again begins to give suggestions.)
Enough. Now close your eyes and hold all your energy within. Now neither dance nor sway, make no sound. Close the eyes completely and gather all energy inward.
No—now make no sound… stop, stop—stop the sound… stop the dancing and jumping, stop all movement of the body… become absolutely still, let the energy remain within… close your eyes, let the energy settle inside; the energy that has been awakened should remain within… close your eyes, let all the senses relax, leave the body like a corpse… the energy will begin to rise within… the work of energy within will begin…
Now place the palm of your right hand on your forehead, on the spot between the two eyes, between the two eyebrows, and slowly rub the spot up and down and sideways. Now put your right hand palm on the forehead between the eyebrows and rub it slowly up and down and sideways… and just by rubbing, something opens inside, something begins to happen, a door suddenly opens…
Rub, rub—something will begin to happen within, as if a door suddenly opens and you enter another world… as you rub, light spreads within—only light spreads within…
Now stop rubbing and become one with that light… Now stop rubbing—the door is open—now be one with the light… Stop; the light has spread within—become one with it, drown in it. There is only light, infinite light… only light, infinite light… lost in the ocean of light, one with it, one with the light… only light, as if thousands of suns have risen together… only light… experience the light… forget yourself, experience the light…
Now forget yourself; just be a witness to the light… remember only the light, forget yourself… forget yourself, remember only the light… light, light, light… lost in an ocean of light—like a fish is in the sea, so are you one in the ocean of light…
This is the first step. To feel this light is the first step. Do not withhold; feel, experience the light…
Those who are not able to experience it, to whom the idea of light does not come, place both palms over the eyes and gently press the eyes.
Those who are not able to feel this light, they should put both palms over the eyes, and then press your palms on the eyes… don’t rub, just press… don’t rub, just press gently…
Only light, infinite light, as if thousands of suns have risen… light, more light, infinite light… now feel it, now be one with it…
Become one, become one, become one—be one with the light… forget yourself, remember only the light… forget yourself, remember only the light… let yourself go, remember only the light… light, light, infinite light… drowned in the ocean of light, like a drop falling into the ocean…
Forget yourself, forget totally—only remember the light all around… you are not; only the light remains… forget yourself, remember the light, feel the light… forget, forget yourself… let go of yourself, let go… remember: only light, light all around… lost in an ocean of light… experience, experience…
If the first step is not taken, entry into the second becomes difficult… take the first step; if the first is not taken, the second becomes impossible…
Light, light, light, light, light… Following light comes bliss… following light comes bliss… in truth, light condensed becomes bliss… experience the light and the stream of bliss that follows from behind… within, only bliss spreads…
Now take the second step… feel bliss… truly, to feel light deeply and intensely is to feel bliss… and light itself, concentrated, becomes bliss…
Experience it—light, becoming dense, condensed, turns into bliss. Take the leap into the second step—experience bliss… every pore tingles with bliss… every heartbeat dances with bliss… body-mind are filled with bliss… like an empty pitcher placed under the sky in the rain fills drop by drop, so bliss goes on filling your heart… bliss, bliss, bliss…
Now you are not—you have become just a vessel, just an emptiness… and bliss descends… and bliss fills you… be filled with it… be filled with it…
Experience, experience—experience bliss… let every pore be immersed in the experience… let every heartbeat be drenched… only bliss remains; life-breath, body, mind all become full of bliss… experience, experience, experience… bliss, bliss, bliss… be filled, be filled, be utterly filled… let no place within remain empty—be filled with bliss… let there remain only one note in the breath—the note of bliss. Let there remain only one throb in the heart—the throb of bliss. Be blissful, be blissful, be blissful… now be blissful, now be blissful… be blissful, be blissful… now be blissful, now be bliss…
Following bliss, the presence of the Divine is experienced. Bliss condensed becomes the presence of the Divine. Now take the third step, the ultimate, and feel the Divine Presence… now feel the Divine Presence all around… experience it—the presence of the Divine—only That is all around… we are lost, we are not—only That is… everywhere That alone is—inside and out That alone is… in the incoming breath, in the outgoing breath That alone is… experience, experience, experience… dissolve, and experience the Divine…
That alone surrounds you, that alone surrounds you… His grace is showering all around… That alone surrounds you… be lost, melt, flow… the Divine is present all around—become one, become one with That, become one with That… That alone is, That alone is—everywhere That alone is; His arms surround you from all sides… That alone is present—His embrace is all around… He is in the winds, He in the rays of the sun, He in the shade, He in the sunshine—everywhere He alone is… in the outgoing breath, in the incoming breath He alone is… in every heartbeat He alone is… let go of yourself, lose yourself… other than the Supreme, there is nothing at all…
Now only the Divine is… now only the Divine is… relax yourself, dissolve yourself… now only the Divine is…
He alone is touching, He alone is caressing… experience, experience… experience the Divine all around—inside, outside, all around… feel the Divine, feel the Divine… be lost, be dissolved, become one…
And now the final experience of meditation: He is not merely present—He alone is. We too are That. The last sutra: I myself am the Divine. Experience it, experience it: I myself am the Divine, I myself am the Divine. Now feel, not only the Presence, but your own divinity… now I am the Divine, now I am the Divine… experience it: Aham Brahmasmi! Experience it: I am Brahman, I am Brahman, I am Brahman…
Now once again place the palm of your right hand on your forehead between the eyebrows and rub gently. Much will happen within. Whatever happens, let it happen. Now put your right hand palm again on the forehead between the eyebrows and rub it. And whatsoever happens, let it happen inside.
Suddenly a barrier breaks, suddenly a door opens, suddenly you are transformed into something else… you become something else… rub, within some door opens, some obstacle falls away… and whatever happens within, let it happen… rub the forehead, the third-eye spot—rub up and down and sideways so that the third-eye spot is rubbed… rub it, and let whatever happens within, happen…
Now raise both hands toward the sky, open your eyes toward the sky. Now raise your both hands toward the sky and open your eyes—see the sky and let the sky see into you, into you…
Look at the sky, and let the sky look within you. Raise both hands toward the sky, open your eyes into the sky, let the sky peer into your depths and you peer into the sky. Let there be a communion between you and the sky. Let there be a communication between you and the sky…
A dialogue, an inner dialogue, a silent meeting… open your eyes toward the sky, both hands lifted… a silent communion between the sky and your heart… both hands stretched toward the sky in an embrace, eyes open—let the sky look deep within you… let the sky go deep inside you, let there be a communion…
And now, whatever feeling is in the heart, express it totally… now whatever feeling is in the heart, express it totally… now express whatsoever is inside—express it completely; now be mad in expressing it completely… become utterly mad—whatever is within, let it be expressed… whatever is within—if you feel like shouting, shout; if you feel like laughing, laugh; if you feel like crying, cry; if you feel like dancing, dance—whatever is within, express it completely… if the inside of you wants to laugh, laugh… if the inside wants to cry, cry… if the inside wants to dance, dance… but express it completely…
All right. Now join both hands and bow your head at the feet of the Divine. Now put your both palms in a namaskar posture and put your head at the feet of the Divine. Accept grace. Man alone is not enough; man is very weak, very helpless; without the Divine’s help nothing will happen. His grace is everything. Man alone is not enough. Man is weak and helpless, totally helpless. And without His grace nothing can happen. Without His grace there is no possibility. Without His grace man is impossible.
Accept grace. Say, from the depths of the heart within: The Divine’s grace is infinite, the Divine’s grace is infinite, the Divine’s grace is infinite.
Let the depths say: Thy grace is infinite, Thy grace is infinite, Thy grace is infinite. The Divine’s grace is infinite, the Divine’s grace is infinite, the Divine’s grace is infinite.
Now slowly take two or four deep breaths and come back from the meditation. Our morning sitting is complete. Take two or four deep breaths and gently return from meditation. Our morning sitting is complete.