The windows stay different, but once you go outside, you see it’s the same sky, so you stop fighting over windows.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, the witness, the seer, consciousness is always separate—virginal and unbound. And the whole play of life is nothing but the movement of the gunas within themselves. In such a situation, if a person’s qualities of sattva, rajas, and tamas are calmed in a scientific or chemical way, or if a person is made sattvic, will he then attain that ever-free witness? If the witness is forever free and present, then by chemically altering the three gunas will it not be revealed? Would the person not then become religious? What is the fundamental difference between solving the problem arising from the
Sadhana means we are dissolving the current itself, not breaking the bulb. There is no point in breaking the bulb. In fact, the bulb is useful; it tells you whether the current is flowing or not, whether there is current or not. Your anger within tells you you are still sunk in ignorance. Lust tells you your life energies have not yet become aware. If we remove these elements, anger will stop manifesting and you will also stop knowing that you are in deep ignorance. It is as if a man is sick and we snatch away the symptoms of his disease so that he doesn’t even come to know he is ill. And keep in mind, anger is an opportunity. Only the unwise say anger is simply bad; I do not say so. Anger is an opportunity; you can use it badly or well. Anger is a chance. In…
Osho, is the experience of the Divine different for each person?
Think of it like this: you go home from this garden, and your children say, “Tell us—what was the garden like?” A painter might tell you by making a painting: “It was like this.” A poet will write a poem—of the trees, of the winds passing through them, of the sun filtering between their leaves. Now a poem and a painting differ greatly. Or perhaps someone is a musician; he will not even write a poem—he will lift his vina. Why write? The winds passed through the trees and there was sound and resonance—he will reproduce that resonance on the vina. The colors in the trees he will translate into tones. The sun and shade he will pour into music. He will play the garden on his vina. Another will write a poem; another will render it on paper. The three expressions will differ. And if you look only at…
But Osho, I have learned that there are four types of movement: physical movement, intellectual movement, emotional movement, and the fourth is wisdom. Perhaps, in the ultimate state of leisure, what is meaningful is that a person’s intellectual or emotional capacities be stimulated, so that he can shift from one plane and move to another?
This is exactly what I am saying: for human energies to move into higher dimensions, it is essential that one be freed from the lower. So I do not say that the old man’s answer to Confucius was right. I do not agree with the old man—though I have heard that Confucius agreed with him. Gandhi would have agreed with him; I would not. In my view, perhaps the old man saved his son from laziness, but then what? The boy would still die harnessed to the plough like an ox. And if the old man thinks that if the boy uses a tool he will become a machine, has he noticed that by yoking him like a bull he is turning him into a bull? That does not occur to him. Besides, using a machine is not possible for an animal; it is possible only for man. So rather…
Osho, you have said that there are many mutually opposite paths that lead to the One Divine. In the past it used to be that seekers of a single path would gather around one master: yogis separate, devotees separate, tantrikas separate, meditators separate. That made it easy for everyone to walk their own path. But with you, in your ashram, there is a whole fair of opposing paths—yogis and bhaktas, tantrikas and Sufis, karma-yogis and meditators—all together. How is this so? It also creates obstacles. Kindly say something about this.
It is true. In the past it was like that. A master would be the advocate of one narrow path. That had its benefits, and its harms. The benefit was that no dilemma arose in your mind. The same thing—the same thing, the same thing—you heard. The same thing—the same thing, the same thing—you did. Doubt did not arise. You quietly held your path and walked. But there was a danger: narrowness set in. Sectarianism set in—the feeling that only I am right and everyone else is wrong; only this path is right and all others are wrong. So there was a benefit, and there was a harm. And the harm proved greater than the benefit. The benefit reached very few; the harm reached millions. The whole world became sectarian. The whole world became dogmatic: we are right and everyone else is wrong. Ask a Jain—he says, our guru is…
Osho, you said that going to another enlightened person shows a lack of faith in one’s guru. This seems understandable, but Osho, we are ordinary people; we haven’t even gone beyond the pleasures we get from ordinary men and women, from theater, films, and music. For even that we shirk effort.
So someone writes to me, “We listen to everyone. We listen to you as well, to them as well.” I have no objection. Listen to me, listen to them too. But when will you walk? Will you only keep listening? Your ears are already worn out from listening. How long will you go on? One listens in order to ponder; one ponders in order to do. You only listen. Do you think something will happen just by listening to this one and that one? You are a great merchant. You think, “Who knows whose words might work! Listen to everyone—what’s the harm!” You go to the Ayurvedic doctor and take his medicine; you go to the allopathic doctor and take his medicine; you go to the Unani hakīm and the homeopath too—and you mix all the medicines together and drink them. You will die! The disease will not be cured;…