What happens when I deeply connect with music?

Beloved Osho, the other night, I was very touched by the singing of the indian swami who sings before discourse. I felt as if he were playing me like a musical instrument. I felt like a big ear, just listening. Most other music I hear basically amounts to noise -- it's entertaining, but it doesn't touch me. What is it about his music and the music of all those musicians who touch something inside us, that helps us to fly?

Music is born out of deep experiences of meditation; it is a dimension of meditation. By meditating, you may be able to be touched by music, but the reverse is also true: If you are totally absorbed in music, your heart will be touched not only by music but by meditation too. Music is sound. Meditation is soundlessness. The highest music is where the sound does not destroy the soundless moments in between. As the musician becomes more and more refined, he can manage to create sound, and between two sounds he can give you an experience of soundlessness. That soundlessness touches the heart. In the East, music has always been part of meditation. Temples have been full of music and dance. Ashok Bharti loves me. His music is just a communication of his love. He pours himself totally into it. The same is happening with the other sannyasin musician…

Beloved Osho, when I'm not near you physically, music seems to be the easiest way to feel your love. Sometimes, listening to classical music, it touches me so deeply that there comes a moment when I feel I cannot take in more joy. Suddenly I remember you, and all the excitement falls into a greater depth, more calm, silent, soothing. Now there is no more boundary to joy... And so much gratitude.

"You have beautiful instruments and you have beautiful art, but your heart is not in the music; it is in defeating somebody. And unless you drop that idea you will never be equal to Tansen. He has no idea to defeat anybody, that's why he goes on winning." It was very difficult for Baiju Bawara to get rid of the desire, because that was the desire through which he had devoted his whole life to music. But if the master said so, then it was better to wait. He forgot all about Tansen, slowly slowly. And once, when Haridas became very old, be became sick; and he had a kind of paralysis of the legs, so he could not go from his small cottage to the nearby Krishna temple. And without seeing Krishna, he would not eat anything. Many physicians tried to treat him. They could not do anything. Baiju…

In the East we say that all music is an effort to bring that cosmic sound to be. That's why there is spirituality in indian music... a new sensitivity which is nowhere to be found. In the western music there is too much sexuality, it is too sensuous. In the indian music there is too much spirituality -- it is not sensuous at all. It silences you, calms you down, cools you, and brings a breeze from the eternal... the breath of the eternal. It is an effort to give you an indication of the cosmic sound. It is just as when I am talking to you. My whole effort in talking is to bring you something that cannot be talked about... to say something that cannot be said... to bring to words something which is wordless... to define something which cannot be defined and is immeasurable.

And when love becomes your being there is great celebration inside. There is no sound, there are no instruments, but one hears a celestial music, a music which is not a created one -- uncreated music. We are made of it so if we go deep in our beings we are bound to find it. It is already there like an undercurrent. Once in a while in certain situations we become aware of it. Seeing a beautiful sunset suddenly you fall silent -- not that you practise being silent or that you try to be silent, no -- it simply happens. The beauty is so tremendous, it is such an awe that you forget to blink your eyes. It is as if for a moment the heartbeat stops; for a moment time stops, mind stops, everything stops; you are in a complete nothingness.

Beloved master, the other night you were like a master musician playing a beautiful melody on the strings of my heart. Beloved master, is this your secret in letting me sing my song more and more?

The Jesse James Gang holds up a train in the Wild West. When they have overpowered the guards, Jesse and the gang burst into the passenger compartment. "Okay!" says Jesse. "You folks had better get ready, we are going to rob all the men and rape all the women." "Look here, you outlaw," says a pretty young woman, "you can go ahead and try to rape me, but you'd better not lay a finger on my old aunt Sally." "You hold your tongue, young lady," says old Sally. "Jesse knows what he's doing." Alvin Pimpleburger turns sixteen years old, so his proud father gives him twenty dollars and sends him off to the local whorehouse. On his way into town, Alvin passes his grandmother's house and she calls him in. He explains where he is going, and his granny insists that he saves the twenty dollars and makes love to…