Am I experiencing the final journey?

Osho, is there no end to this journey?

There is neither a beginning to this journey nor an end. We are parts of the infinite, fragments of the eternal. We have always been, and we will always be. It is only that the waves seem to change, but the ocean remains the same. Forms change. It appears as though one journey is completed and another begins. But in truth, whatever is, is the eternal. No beginning, no end. And what greater joy could there be than this—that you are the infinite, you are the deathless? The seers of the Upanishads were absorbed in a single quest: How to move from darkness to light? From untruth to truth? And from death to immortality? If you live in darkness you will live in untruth; live in untruth and you will live in death. The three belong to one chain, one logic. Recognize the light within, and you will recognize truth—simultaneously,…

Osho, the journey so far has been hard, but with your hint and support I have passed through it. I feel blessed to have received what I had never even imagined! Whatever I experienced, I kept explaining to others as well. But the journey ahead seems not only difficult, it feels absolutely impossible. You say, “You are at the destination; drop the very idea of journey.” It seems somewhat understandable, yet the resolution doesn’t stay. Osho, why does this complaint arise? Am I expecting the impossible before its time? Is waiting an even harder practice than practice itself? Osho, what is this r

You get a glimpse that the teaching is right; but the ancient mind won’t let the glimpse stay. It protests, “How can this be right? What will happen to me? Where will I go? If you are already God, then what is the point of religion? What meaning has practice? If you are God, then who is saint and who sinner? Who is Ravana and who Rama?” The mind creates a thousand disturbances. “Then what difference between a drunkard and a devotee—if all are God?” It becomes hard to answer such questions. And the truth is: between saint and sinner there is no difference—only on the surface, in the mind; within, the same One resides. Between Rama and Ravana there is no difference. Have you ever gone behind the stage of a Ramlila? There the reality is revealed. The curtain lifts: Rama and Ravana stand with bows and arrows aimed,…

It is not a difficult process because the process of looking is the same, just the object changes: you start turning your consciousness upon yourself. You may have seen many pictures of snakes swallowing their own tails. Those pictures are very ancient symbols of mystery schools; they represent this inner transformation. When your consciousness starts turning upon itself you become a circle, and the moment you are a circle you are no more the same old person. Your life starts having a new grace, a new beauty, a new beatitude. You become golden, you become precious. For the first time you have a contact with god, and that contact is a magical transformation. It is sheer magic and a miracle. Enjoy the trip, don't be too fixated on the target, Osho said in conclusion. Bliss is not a pond, it is a river. It is not static.

Asked by Dharma Bharati: Osho, my taste for the world is fading, and a sadness has come. It feels as if this shore of life is slipping from my hands, and I have not even glimpsed the other shore. Loneliness frightens me, and I clutch at this shore again. Osho, what should I do? How do I reach there?

Buddha said, “Anand, don’t be angry. I understand their secret, because I am doing the same. There is no village ahead. They are kind; they don’t say ‘You won’t arrive.’ They say, ‘Keep going, keep going,’ so you don’t collapse with exhaustion, don’t stop in sorrow, don’t fall into despair. They aren’t lying; they are keeping your courage alive by saying, ‘Just about two miles… almost there.’ This is the method of the Buddhas. They always say: ‘There is the other shore. You don’t see it; I do. Come, come.’ First, the initial shore drops away. When it does, naturally you ask even more urgently, ‘Where is the second?’ And the awakened ones say, ‘Just about two miles…’ Gradually they bring you to the place where you yourself see: there is neither a first shore nor a second shore. The very idea of arrival is meaningless.” Life is an endless…

Osho, in the final stage of active meditation a quietness comes, yet a kind of sadness surrounds me. You say to celebrate—how can one celebrate in this sadness, and how to dance?

The day a society forgets how to dance, that day the society becomes sick. The indigenous people in the forests dance—and their health is of another order! They dance late into the night, under the stars, beneath the open sky. They dance like the stars themselves. They fall asleep tired—but in that tiredness there is no heaviness; there is a lightness in it. Then in the morning, when such a person wakes, his awakening is different from yours. You hardly sleep at all. Even in sleep you go on dreaming; even in sleep you keep the whole business of waking life going. You continue the same nightmares you saw while awake—same market, same friends, same enemies, the same hocus-pocus. You keep tossing and turning; even your sleep is not a peaceful event. Ask the forest-dwellers, “Did you dream?” You will rarely find one who says, “Yes, once in my life…