Outside things happened, but inside I stayed the same; feelings are like costumes you can wear without becoming them.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, how are you? I am just the same. And you too are the same. That which changes is not our real face, not our soul. That which does not change—neither in life nor in death—that is our reality. We ask people, “How are you?” We should not ask. For in asking we have already conceded change—change itself, childhood, youth, old age, life, death.
There is something within you which you yourself also know. It was the same in childhood, and even before you were born it was the same. Much water has flowed in the Ganges, but you stand on the bank and remain the same. Even if tomorrow you are not visible, you will still be the same. Forms will be new, shapes will be new; perhaps you will not even recognize yourself. Names will be new, introductions new, attire new; still I say—you will be the same. You have always been the same, and you will always remain the same. This eternal, everlasting—call it God if you wish, or call it your very being. Many waves come and go upon it, but the ocean remains the same. Change is false. But we have taken change to be true and made a world out of it. If only we could understand that…
Osho, after finding you a great transformation has happened within me; and yet it also feels as if nothing has happened. Please clarify this paradox.
It is natural. It will be so. Everyone will feel the same. Because the transformation we are striving for has something unique about it—understand this. Here the effort is to make you what you already are. The attempt here is not to make you into something else. The method is to bring you to your natural state. To give you exactly what is already yours. So when it is found, on the one hand it will feel like an extraordinary meeting, a revolution has occurred—wonder! And on the other hand it will also seem that what has been found is not something new. It feels familiar. It feels one’s own. As if it was always within, and only the remembrance had been lost. When Buddha became enlightened and the gods asked him, “What have you attained?” the story says Buddha laughed and said, “Nothing has been attained. I have only…
Osho, when I listen to you it feels as if I’ve heard you before. When I look at you it feels as if I’ve seen you before. Yet this is my very first time here. It’s the first time I’ve heard you, the first time I’ve seen you. What is happening to me?
Eyes closed, keep advancing—such is the law of the love-mad; Do not bow your head, keep fighting—such is the law of the brave; There is motion in the breath, motion in the heart—here progress alone is the rule; Become motion, and in motion dissolve—such is the law of the motioned ones! I am a challenge—a call! I shake you. I question you. Eyes closed, keep advancing—such is the law of the love-mad; Do not bow your head, keep fighting—such is the law of the brave; There is motion in the breath, motion in the heart—here progress alone is the rule; Become motion, and in motion dissolve—such is the law of the motioned ones! You missed before—do not miss this time. Yes, fear comes. Satsang brings fear. Ah—to see and hear That which truly Is here; Love, in a single instant, effaces its own devotees! Love annihilates. Love burns. But the…
Question: Second question: Osho, Speaking was never this difficult for me. In Gurdjieff’s life it is written: thirty friends—great seekers of truth—decided to travel the world, to enter different traditions: one to Tibet, one to India, one to Iran, to Egypt, China, Japan. After twelve years they would gather, each bringing the essence of what he had learned; the thirty would compile it and extract a synthesis—the quintessence of all religions. The thirty set out, but none returned. When Gurdjieff came back after twelve years, he arrived alone. No one else came; what became of them is unknown. One fell in love; news came he had married and had four or five children—what truth? One opened a shop and made money. One took a fine job. This happened and that. Of the thirty, not one returned. Twelve years is a long window. Here such windows open every day.
Osho, Since I found you, I have rushed to your gathering. Only you know what you make us drink; all we know is that in your assembly you serve nectar to everyone—where even birds sing and plants sway. We do not know prayer to the Lord, nor do we understand the language of heaven and hell. Now we have nowhere to go, nothing to attain; this very world feels dear to us. Now there is no grief about not going anywhere, no fear of death. Whether we are human or beast—whatever we are, is that not enough? We walk with you; take us wherever you wish.
Satsang! I know what is happening in your heart. A revolution! And this revolution is not happening suddenly today—it has been happening slowly. This fire has been smoldering little by little. You did not even notice it. When a revolution happens all at once, one notices; but when it unfolds gradually—gently, as age increases or as the moon waxes night after night—one hardly notices. Such a revolution is taking place in your life—slowly, step by step, inch by inch. I have seen you moving from darkness toward light, from madness toward freedom.