Is abhipsa enough for the Lord?

Question: Second question: Osho, is abhipsa enough for the Lord? Shobha! It all depends on what abhipsa is for. If abhipsa is just a beautiful name given to desire, it is not enough. If abhipsa is a lovely garment put on lust, it is not enough. If abhipsa is truly abhipsa… abhipsa means a blazing fire. Within you only one yearning remains… Consider this: someone asked Farid, “I want to attain God—what should I do?” Farid said, “Come with me to the river, we’ll bathe. If I get the chance while we’re bathing, I’ll give you the answer; otherwise, we’ll sit on the steps afterward and I’ll tell you.” The inquirer was a little frightened—what kind of answer is that? “If I get the chance, I’ll answer while bathing!” Still he thought, “Fakirs speak in such carefree ways. Let’s see what he does—what answer can there be in bathing?

Osho, aspiration dissolves and becomes abhipsa. When abhipsa ends, what remains? Please clarify.

Akanksha means the world’s desires. Akanksha means desires—plural. Not one, many. The world means many. When akanksha dissolves and becomes abhipsa—abhipsa means desire, not desires. The single desire is called abhipsa; the many desires are called akanksha. When all the rays of desire gather together and are focused on one truth—on the Divine, or liberation, or on the Self, on nirvana, on kevalya—that is abhipsa. When the net of desires collects into one, abhipsa is born. When rays gather, fire is born. Rays are many; fire is one. Up to here, it is understandable: a man wants wealth, position, wife, son, brother; he wants life, a long life. All these wants—these many wants—gather together, and the man wants only the Divine—this much we can still understand. One who has had many desires can at least imagine that all desires have merged, all small streams and rivulets have fallen into a…

Osho, Ashtavakra says that even the desire to know is like other desires, whereas many other sages greatly extol mumuksha, the yearning for liberation. Kindly shed light on this.

There is a sweet incident in Mahavira’s life. His chief disciple was Gautam Gandhar. For years he stayed with Mahavira, yet he did not become liberated. He was the most brilliant of Mahavira’s disciples. His restlessness was great. He intensely longed to be free; he had left nothing undone, had poured his whole life into the offering—yet why was liberation not happening? He could not see that this very insistence was the hindrance; this anxiety, this tension. The desire for moksha too is born of the ego—this is the ego’s last play, now in the name of moksha. When Mahavira died, that day Gautam was away, preaching in a nearby village. Returning, some travelers told him, “Don’t you know? Mahavira has left the body.” He began to weep right there. Weeping, he asked them, “Did he leave any last message for me?” For he was the closest disciple and had…

Osho, you say the same thing in countless ways. But when I listen to you, it feels as if I am hearing it for the first time. And I feel so much joy that I don’t feel like going back home. What should I do—what can I do—so that I can just keep listening to you!

You will feel as if you have been made to rise out of season, before time—as if you were not yet to go and yet had to go. And if you go in that way, your home will become even more desolate than before. I do not want to make your home desolate; I want to make your home a temple. I want that when you go home, your home’s new form is revealed. I do not want to tear you away from home, from the world, from family life. That is the newness of my sannyas: I do not want to sever you from the world; I want to join you to the world in such a way that your connection with the world becomes a connection with the Divine. Let the world no longer be a barrier between you and the Divine; let it become a means. If…

Osho, I have heard that Narad had an intense thirst to meet Krishna. Whenever he heard news of Krishna’s presence somewhere, he would rush there—only to find that Krishna had already moved on. Thus, until his death he did not meet Krishna. On one side is the state of Narad, brimming with endless thirst; and on the other side am I, in whom the thirst has not even arisen yet. Then isn’t my effort to attain the Divine meaningless?

There are two kinds of people who remain deprived of the Divine. First, those whose thirst is genuine, but whose direction of search is wrong. Second, those in whom there is no thirst at all; for them the question of direction does not arise. Narad did have thirst, but he was traveling in the wrong direction. Whoever goes outward to search for Krishna will go astray. If you want to find Krishna, you must go within. Krishna is not an external entity; Krishna is an inner state. Narad missed because he understood Krishna to be outside. Whoever takes the Divine to be outside will keep missing. You will arrive and find that the Divine has already moved on. This will happen every time—because the Divine was never there. From afar it appears so; when you reach near you discover it has receded. It was a mirage. In the desert, from…