What happens when I am afraid to ask a question?

Osho, whenever I ask you something I feel as if my neck has come under your sword. I feel the same with this question too. Why is it so?

That sannyasin laughed so heartily their soldierly hearts must have skipped a beat. He said, “Tell Alexander he does not know how to address sannyasins. He doesn’t know how to speak with them. Bring that ignoramus himself, so he may also see what happens when a sannyasin’s head is cut off. As for coming and going, years ago I abandoned coming and going. I am settled.” He was speaking high things the soldiers could not comprehend. “I have given up coming and going; I am settled.” He was defining the sannyasin as Krishna did: sthitaprajna—whose wisdom is settled, who neither comes nor goes. As Rajjab said: “Whatever comes and goes is maya.” The one who neither comes nor goes, who is ever still—sannyas is the name of that stillness. “So where would I come and go now? Years have passed; I am settled. What India, what Greece! Don’t waste words.…

Why am I so afraid to ask you a question?

EVERYBODY IS, BECAUSE TO ASK a question means to put your head in front of me. And one never knows what I am going to do with your head. I may hit, I may cut it. I may make a football of it... nobody knows! Fear is natural. One thing is certain, that I am going to do something drastic. Fear is nothing out of place, but still ask -- because that is the purpose of your being here and my being here. Ask if a question arises; don't be afraid. And if you are very much afraid, you can do one thing a few people do: you can ask in somebody else's name. Then he gets the beating and you envoy. But ask. Without asking, it will persist. And it may be important; it may have something of immense importance. It may change... the answer may become a new…

Osho, nothing makes sense to me. Sometimes it feels there is nothing to ask—everything is fine; and sometimes there are only questions upon questions before me.

What answers I give you are not answers to the questions; they are only so that your courage does not fail, so that you do not lose heart. The road is long, the lake is far; it isn’t free; the path is thorn‑strewn; there is more likelihood of going astray than of arriving. People who came very near have gone astray; just as they were arriving, they took a wrong turn; they had practically arrived and then pitched camp. Two steps more and the lake was there—but they grew tired and thought the goal had come; they closed their eyes and began to dream. I can only tell you this much: the lake exists, and attaining it is your birthright. But it will not happen without seeking. And why so much fear of seeking? Because seeking means traveling on unknown paths. Seeking means: there are no maps in your hand—otherwise…

Osho, what is there that we can even ask? Still, you have had us ask questions—why?

You may feel you cannot ask, that asking seems difficult—but the mind you have can hold nothing except questions. This is your catharsis. I say to you: ask, so that your catharsis can happen. The mind anyway goes on asking. You may not gather the courage to voice a question; you may hesitate, feel afraid—but the mind goes on asking continually. In the mind, only questions stick; answers never do. The mind is a process that produces questions. The mind raises questions about everything. So it may happen that out of modesty or etiquette you do not ask me, or out of fear of what people will say: that the question is too small, not worth asking; that it is absurd, irrelevant, unbecoming; that asking it will make you look so ignorant that even this has not been resolved in you. Because of such fears, you don’t ask. But you…

Beloved Osho, since I have been here, one feeling gets stronger and stronger -- the only thing that I really want to do is sit on your lap.

USHA, JUST FAR OUT! But please don t start doing it. I have fifty thousand sannyasins: just think of me too, otherwise I will be killed in a stampede. But the idea is great, just as an idea -- don't practise it. The idea is symbolic: a great love is arising in you. It is good, it has to be so. Unless you are in deep love with me nothing is going to happen. Only through love, the transformation happens. And it is good that you have not projected it on me -- otherwise, that too happens... Just the other day, I read in the latest issue of YOUTH TIMES a statement of an Indian film actress, Pratima Bedi. She says,"Rajneesh is sexy." Now, I really enjoyed it! She came to see me once; she must have been there for four or five minutes in front of me. She says…