How do I decide whether to become a sannyasin?

Osho, I cannot decide whether to stay here with you or not, and also whether to become a sannyasin or not. Can you help me to decide?

John, Toss a coin! If it is heads, stay, but don't become a sannyasin -- because the coin coming up heads shows you are a head. So accumulate as much intellectual garbage as you can, and if by chance you are a German, then it will be really good for your head too, good manure. One day looking out of my window I saw two sannyasins working outside -- two of Deeksha's handymen, one Italian and one German. They were about to hammer away at a concrete pillar with a sledge hammer and a wrecking bar. The German was holding the wrecking bar and the Italian the sledge hammer. On the first try with the sledge hammer, the Italian missed and hit the German on the head. The German, unaffected, continued to hold the bar, waiting for the next try. The Italian again missed and hit the German on the…

Osho, the feeling for sannyas arises, and then the mind runs away. I can’t decide whether to take sannyas or not! Because it feels as if I’d be deceiving myself. It seems to me that I am not worthy of taking sannyas.

Three years passed. He thought and thought, listing hundreds of reasons pro and con: If I marry, these gains, these losses; if I don’t, these gains, these losses. In the end he found one extra gain in marrying—experience. And one loss in not marrying—no experience. The pan tilted. After three years he knocked on her door. Her father opened it. Kant said, “I have finally decided—one reason more on this side; I will marry.” The father laughed. “Too late. My daughter is married—and already has a child. You came far too late. Think again. And if someone else proposes, have your decision ready beforehand; don’t take so long.” He never married—no one else proposed. If you live by thinking, you’ll end up trivial. The vast requires a leap, not thinking. It requires courage—the gambler’s heart, not a shopkeeper’s book-keeping. Jamuna Singh, if you want to take it, take it. If…

Osho, I am eager to take sannyas, yet I have been hesitating for a year. I also have this doubt in my mind: what will happen by taking sannyas?

You are still living. Breath still moves. The heart still beats. The blood still runs. However many days may have been wasted, much is still left. The as-yet-unarrived is still there; the future remains. Live this future in a new way, Krishnaraj! Will you keep beating the same old track? Just as you think, “What will happen by taking sannyas?” now think this: what will happen by not taking sannyas? Until now you have not been a sannyasin. What has happened so far? One thing is certain: at least sannyas will be a new experiment. Whether anything happens or not, a new path will be cut. Who knows—what didn’t happen on the old path may happen on the new! Walk with at least that much curiosity. Who knows! The old path is familiar; will you keep circling on it? And not think even once that after so many rounds nothing…

Osho, how do I take sannyas? I keep thinking and then I stop. What is this hesitation?

One night a thief broke into Mulla Nasruddin’s house. While the thief gathered things, Mulla quickly spread his blanket on the floor. When the thief, ready to tie up the loot, looked for a sheet to wrap it in, he found a blanket laid out. He was a bit scared—when he had entered, there had been no blanket on the floor. He’d seen a man sleeping under it; now that man lay on the bed without the blanket, and the blanket was on the floor! But it wasn’t the time to ponder. He tied his bundle and set off. Mulla got up and followed. Hearing footsteps, the thief turned and saw the same man who had been on the bed—first under the blanket, then without it. The thief got nervous and said, “Why are you following me?” Mulla said, “Why not follow? I was the only one left back there!…

I want to become a sannyasin but what will happen then?

Nothing sir, nothing in particular. Exactly nothing: that's the commodity I deal in. Literally, it is much ado about nothing. But the nothing is not just nothing; it is the source of all. Sannyas means you are tired of being yourself and you are ready to drop that burden. You are tired of being and you would like to rest in nonbeing. Sannyas is a state of nonbeing. You drop yourself and you enter the realm of nothingness... and suddenly everything is beautiful -- because things were ugly because of you. They were not ugly in the first place, not ugly themselves, it was your interpretation; you were corrupting them. Now the corrupting agent is no more there, eyes are clear and one can see through and through; one's vision is transparent. YOU disappear in sannyas. And the moment you disappear, immediately, instantly, God appears. When you are not, God…