Do enlightened beings also shed tears?

Question: The last question: Osho, do enlightened ones also shed tears? It is not appropriate to fix anything about the enlightened. They are vast—like the sky. No boundary line can be drawn around an enlightened one. Only one thing can be said: to be enlightened means to be complete. In the complete, everything is included—tears too. Just as smiles are included, so are tears. A Zen monk died in Japan. His disciple Rinzai was very famous—so famous that he was more renowned than his master. In truth, it was because of Rinzai that the master was known at all. Hundreds of thousands gathered, and Rinzai began to weep. The people around him said, “What are you doing? If people see you cry, what will they think? Do enlightened ones ever cry?” Rinzai said, “Then take it that I am not enlightened. But crying is happening now—what am I to do?

Question: Osho, Near the monastery of the Zen master Bankei there lived a blind man. When Bankei died, that blind man said to a friend: Because I am blind and cannot observe a person's face, I have to judge his character by his voice. Usually, when I hear someone congratulating another on his happiness or success, I also hear in it the hidden undertone of envy. And when sorrow is expressed over another's misfortune, I hear within it a certain pleasure and contentment—as if the one offering condolences is actually happy that some gain is about to come his way. "But in my entire experience, Bankei's voice always reflected only truth. When he expressed joy, I heard nothing but joy. And when he expressed grief, I heard pure grief. Osho, please shed light on this parable. But why would he weep? We think we weep because we are attached.

Osho, when I listen to you, every word sinks to the depths of my heart and stirs me. But when I read you, it remains a mental game. Please tell me why this happens.

It’s plain. The arithmetic is simple. When you read, only you are there; I am not. What you read is nothing but you. It becomes a game of the mind. When you listen to me, then sometimes—knowingly or unknowingly—I also slip into you. You seldom give such a chance, but now and then a lapse happens on your side. Unaware, you leave the door a little open—and I come in. So when you are hearing me, it’s a different matter. That is why truth has always been spoken, not written. It cannot be written. Even speaking it is very difficult, yet it can still be said—at least a little can be said, a little news can be given. Because in speaking, many elements are involved that are lost in writing. When you read a book, the book is dead. A book cannot create an atmosphere around you. A book has…

Osho, the moment I arrived here, intellect turned into heart and words into silence. While listening to you, my heart sometimes begins to flow as tears. I am doubtful whether this state will remain when I return home. Kindly explain how this state can be stabilized.

First thing: a human being has nothing more sacred than tears. There is no prayer greater than tears. People have known only one form of tears—tears of sorrow. But there is another form—tears of joy. Very few have known it; very few ever come to know it. When you see someone crying, you think he must be unhappy, in pain, wounded, burning. Not necessarily. Tears flow whenever any feeling becomes so intense that you cannot contain it—any feeling. If sorrow grows too much, it overflows as tears. If happiness grows too much, it too overflows as tears. Great pain flows out and lightens the heart through tears; great bliss also flows out as tears. So first, do not tie tears inextricably to sorrow. Deep down our minds have been conditioned to think tears come because of suffering. So we hide them, we hold them back. We try hard that tears…

Osho! While listening to you I start to weep. Now, even in the celebration of active meditation, tears burst forth. What is this? In the midst of meditation a feeling arises that this body is a hindrance now; how can it be shed—the feeling keeps growing more intense. Why? Please explain out of compassion.

Akshay Vivek! Human beings have been given such wrong conditioning that they have neither ever cried to their heart’s content nor laughed to their heart’s content. They have never really lived to their heart’s content. In no aspect, in no dimension, have they ever done anything totally; everything remains half-done! So many things hang inside, suspended like Trishanku. I say meditation is a celebration, but what is happening to you happens to others as well. While celebrating, suddenly tears arise from some unknown corner! They must have been suppressed somewhere—perhaps for lifetimes. Especially in men. Because from childhood we tell boys: Don’t cry! Girls cry. You are a man; crying is not for you. This is false. It is utterly false. Nature has made the tear glands in the eyes of men and women just the same. Men’s tear glands are not smaller than women’s. So one thing is certain—nature…