That odd, sleepy feeling is a good, dreamless quiet where you melt into peace—don’t fight it; let it quietly change you.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Beloved Osho, I've often experienced a strange space while sitting in front of you, and these days it is happening more and more. It is like being sucked into a space where I tend to pass out, almost faint. A jerk -- my eyes open, but only for a short time; then it happens again. I've tried to move into it with watchfulness, but it doesn't seem to work much. It seems like a precious experience, but somehow I feel I am missing something by not being awake enough. Any suggestions, beloved master?
Chidananda, what is happening to you is absolutely right. There is no need to create a problem out of it; you are not missing anything. In fact you fall into such harmony, in such deep communion, that it appears as if you have fallen asleep. Whatever I am saying you may not be able to repeat in words, but it will be resounding in your heart, in your being, and it will do its work. It will change you. You will see the change in your actions, in your behavior, the way you respond in situations. That will be the proof -- not that you remember what I have said. And don't force yourself to remain awake, because that means you are creating a disturbance in the harmony. Allow yourself to be overwhelmed completely and lost into it. It is not falling asleep, it is falling into samadhi. Samadhi and…Read the full discourse →
Osho, on 21-3-80 at about eight in the evening, I was in Bombay. During meditation the body collapsed; my glasses and mala broke, and when I came to, it was nine o’clock. I don’t know what happened in between, or how it happened. Beloved Master, please be compassionate and say something to guide me.
Mulla Nasruddin got up one night and jabbed his wife—“Quick, bring my glasses!” She didn’t know what was going on—a thief in the house? She ran and brought the glasses. Mulla quickly put them on and lay flat on his back, eyes closed. The wife said, “What’s the matter? What’s going on? Are you in your senses? Why call for glasses in the middle of the night?” “Shut up,” he said, “don’t mess it up! I’m seeing a very beautiful dream. It was looking a little hazy, so I thought I’d call for my glasses.” But then even the haziness didn’t appear; he squinted hard, changed sides, and began to get angry with his wife: “Wretch, you messed it up! If only you had kept quiet! You spoiled everything.” The wife is not at fault. No one is at fault. In this world we keep throwing blame on others. Do…Read the full discourse →
Osho, what is the first experience of samadhi like?
You will know only when it happens. It cannot be said; at most a few hints can be given. It is as if, in the dark, a lamp is suddenly lit. Or as if a dying patient, right at the edge of death, suddenly finds a medicine that works; life’s wave, life’s thrill spreads again—so it is. As if a corpse becomes alive—such is the first experience of samadhi. It is the taste of nectar. The experience of the ultimate music. But it will be only when it happens; and only then will you understand. You will not understand by my saying it. It is as with love. How can anyone explain it? To someone who has never loved, never known love, no matter how many explanations you offer—he will hear it all and still ask, “I haven’t understood; please explain a little more.” It is like explaining light to…Read the full discourse →
Osho, for the past month something strange has been happening. When I begin meditation in the meditation hall—after bowing to you and remembering you beneath your picture—within moments my skin seems to vanish into emptiness, the circulation stops, the breath almost ceases. After an hour to an hour and a half, it takes another half hour to return to the previous state. Yet throughout, I experience an incomparable bliss and freshness. Kindly guide me.
When a flower laughs, remember: who knows how many drops of dew have become tombs in its laughter. Behind its smile the deaths of countless dewdrops are hidden. When someone attains the bliss of samadhi, many pains lie concealed behind it. To endure those pains with a feeling of grace is what is called austerity. Austerity does not mean to inflict suffering upon yourself—there is no need to. When you go on the inner journey, many sufferings come by themselves. The one who bears those sufferings as good fortune, as God’s grace, as blessing—he is the true ascetic. So, Anand Gautam, the auspicious hour has come—do not let it slip away. Continue exactly as you are doing. Proceed in the same direction in which the journey has begun. More will happen—deeper and for longer. Even if you are lost for hours, inform your friends and loved ones not to be…Read the full discourse →
Sometimes at your lectures I can't keep my eyes open or concentrate, and keep falling somewhere and coming back with a jerk. There is no memory of where I have been. Am I going deep, or just falling asleep?
That's how in the morning you remember that in the night there were so many dreams, or on some day you say, "I slept very deeply; there were no dreams." These are both memories -- one positive, one negative. If dream happens there will be a positive memory -- something was happening, certain activity going on. If there is no dream you will have just a peaceful remembrance of nothing, that nothing happened. But this you will remember: that nothing happened and no dream crossed my mind and sleep was really deep, very deep, not a single ripple. But you will remember and you will say, "I was very blissful." But if you fall not asleep but into the meditative state -- they are similar, almost similar -- than you will not be able to remember anything. Because when you fall into a meditative state, theta, or sometimes you can…Read the full discourse →