According to Osho, song and dance are inevitable at the ultimate consummation—but their modes differ: the devotee sings manifestly, dancing at the circumference in ecstatic abandon, while the knower’s song is unmanifest—a delicate inner smile, a dance at the center. Both reach the same nondual dissolution of I and Thou; only the expression of celebration varies.
Yes—both celebrate: the devotee sings and dances loudly; the knower smiles and dances inside.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, “Ab main nachyo bahut, Gopal”—thus sings the devotee. Does the knower, like the devotee, also sing?
In the knower’s life the same event happens—of zero, or of fullness—but in another way. The knower frees himself from the Thou. That is why Mahavira says, “What God? There is no God. Appa so paramappa—the self itself is the Supreme Self. In my pure perfection, I am God.” Therefore the knower says: “Aham Brahmasmi.” “Ana’l-Haqq.” Other than me, who? So the knower diminishes the Thou, diminishes and diminishes, until a moment comes when the Thou becomes zero and only the I remains. But then the I cannot remain either. To keep the I, a little Thou is needed. The day the I alone remains and the Thou becomes zero, in that very moment the I also disappears. They go together. And when the I disappears, a unique celebration is born. But the knower will not dance; the celebration happens so deeply within, and the knower is inward-turned. These are…
Osho, where the wise extol freedom, release or moksha, the devotee sings songs of celebration and joy. Why is it so?
The devotee sings drunk with ecstasy. The devotee’s language is different. His quest is celebration, bliss; not freedom, not moksha. The devotee says: keep your moksha—I do not want it. Let me have your darshan. “These eyes thirst for the Beloved’s sight!” Let me behold you, let there be touch and seeing. I need nothing more. Keep your moksha; for me, the bond of your love is enough. Bind me in a thousand bonds—let your arms encircle me. Let me live in your embrace. Let me hold your feet. Do not take these feet away from me. That is enough for me. The devotee’s search is different—it is a search for love, for bliss, for celebration. When the event happens in a devotee’s life—it is the same event—but the first thing he sees is bliss. Freedom comes like a shadow, following behind. It comes—both come together; they are two names…
Osho, I am dancing here. I, who never danced. Far from dancing—I had never even thought I would dance. I am astonished at myself. I ask: what has happened to me?
Love has happened to you; religion has happened to you. You have begun to come toward your home. You have turned back. You have set out toward your source. The Ganges has started flowing back toward Gangotri. The current has reversed. Your first steps have begun to fall in the direction from which you came. And when the first steps fall that way, dance is born. The farther you go from the divine, the more dance is lost; gloom, frustration, melancholy spread through life. When you are very miserable, understand that you are very far from the divine. The rishis have described the divine as sat-chit-ananda—being, consciousness, bliss. Saraha says, Tilopa says: it is mahāsukha, the great bliss. That means the more you are in sorrow, the farther you are from it. The proportion of your sorrow is the proportion of your distance. The measure of your sorrow is the…
Osho, Sri Shankaracharya teaches the wisdom of the ultimate (tattva-jnana) and also sings Govinda’s bhajans. Is there an interrelationship between knowledge and bhajan, between knowledge and devotion?
Knowledge is negating; devotion is affirmative. Knowledge is like preparing the soil—removing weeds, adding manure; devotion is like sowing the seed. Knowledge by itself is incomplete. It clears the field, but it does not implant the seeds. It is necessary, not sufficient. For knowledge belongs to the intellect; devotion belongs to the heart. On the path to the divine, all the obstacles can be cut away by knowledge; but the steps are climbed by devotion. So knowledge is negating; it is very effective in breaking the futile, not in giving birth to the meaningful. Shankara speaks of knowledge so that the layers upon layers of ignorance within you are cut away. And once the ground of the mind is clear—no useless rubbish, no trash—then the seeds of devotion can be sown; then “bhaj Govindam” becomes possible. There is no opposition between the two; devotion is the culmination of knowledge, and…
Osho, you have often said that the true master calls the disciple close, and then also sends him away. How can one know whether the master has sent him away in displeasure, out of anger, or as a blessing, out of joy, for the disciple’s further growth?
First thing: a master who gets angry is no master. Second: a disciple who, when sent away, thinks it must have been out of displeasure is not of the right mettle for discipleship. The master does not get angry; the very possibility of anger has ended. If ever a master seems angry, know that he is acting—for sometimes there is no other way. Gurdjieff would often appear angry—so angry it seemed there would be bloodshed. Those who ran away were deprived. Those who still remained came to know how rare it is to find a heart as tender as his. But why would he behave so angrily? Perhaps that was exactly what was needed for the disciple. Such things happened—and only Gurdjieff could do them—that two people would come to see him, one seated on the left, one on the right. When he looked to the left, it was with…