According to Osho, the so‑called inner journey is mostly imagination, because ‘inner’ and ‘outer’ are mind-made divisions and any journey is outward. Truth is pathless: either you’re asleep (a buddhu) or awake (a Buddha); there are no stages. The real inner happens when all seeking stops, movement ceases, and awareness simply is—then imagination ends and light is within.
Trying to go inside is still going somewhere; when you stop going anywhere and just be, you wake up and find the inside was always here.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, is there no end to this journey?
There is neither a beginning to this journey nor an end. We are parts of the infinite, fragments of the eternal. We have always been, and we will always be. It is only that the waves seem to change, but the ocean remains the same. Forms change. It appears as though one journey is completed and another begins. But in truth, whatever is, is the eternal. No beginning, no end. And what greater joy could there be than this—that you are the infinite, you are the deathless? The seers of the Upanishads were absorbed in a single quest: How to move from darkness to light? From untruth to truth? And from death to immortality? If you live in darkness you will live in untruth; live in untruth and you will live in death. The three belong to one chain, one logic. Recognize the light within, and you will recognize truth—simultaneously,…
Osho, the journey so far has been hard, but with your hint and support I have passed through it. I feel blessed to have received what I had never even imagined! Whatever I experienced, I kept explaining to others as well. But the journey ahead seems not only difficult, it feels absolutely impossible. You say, “You are at the destination; drop the very idea of journey.” It seems somewhat understandable, yet the resolution doesn’t stay. Osho, why does this complaint arise? Am I expecting the impossible before its time? Is waiting an even harder practice than practice itself? Osho, what is this r
You get a glimpse that the teaching is right; but the ancient mind won’t let the glimpse stay. It protests, “How can this be right? What will happen to me? Where will I go? If you are already God, then what is the point of religion? What meaning has practice? If you are God, then who is saint and who sinner? Who is Ravana and who Rama?” The mind creates a thousand disturbances. “Then what difference between a drunkard and a devotee—if all are God?” It becomes hard to answer such questions. And the truth is: between saint and sinner there is no difference—only on the surface, in the mind; within, the same One resides. Between Rama and Ravana there is no difference. Have you ever gone behind the stage of a Ramlila? There the reality is revealed. The curtain lifts: Rama and Ravana stand with bows and arrows aimed,…
These are three concentric circles around the center. Of course the heart is closer to being, so it is better to be in the heart than to be in the mind. The mind is closer than the body; it is better to be in the mind than in the body. But the ultimate goal is to be just your being -- no action, no thought, no feeling, just pure witnessing. And then the satori happens and one becomes full of light, full of truth. Then to live is a blessing. Before it, it is just a drag; after it, it is a dance. (Really, meditation is a journey, Osho told Bhavan, from your head to your heart to your being.) Meditation is not-knowing, it is not like knowledge, It is far closer to feeling. It is not like logic, it is far more like love.
Question: First question: Osho, Searching for you I have wandered who knows where. Neither heaven says a word, nor does hell open its gate. I look into every eye, feeling for your picture, and I have wandered who knows where. Are these just the gaps between breaths, or only distances upon distances? You too say nothing—your lips never open. How long must I keep walking, groping about in everyone’s heart? Where are you and where am I? Searching for you I have wandered who knows where. I could not meet you on the earth, nor could I fix your address in the sky. I searched everywhere for you and yet did not find you. Now, in searching, I set out after myself—who knows where I strayed. Ah, what is this? Your address is found: your image in my eyes, like musk that dwells within the deer.
Osho, if in your presence a person has an inner experience but later cannot, what is that? Would you call it a direction toward liberation or dependence?
There can be two kinds of reasons. In fact there can be many, but broadly two will do. - One: he may only be imagining, not actually experiencing. Even for imagination my presence gives support. Alone, even imagining becomes difficult. Imagination too asks for props. So in my presence he will be able to imagine more easily, and it will be easier to mistake imagination for experience. At home, if the same kind of thing happened, he might suspect it is only imagination. - The other, less frequent, possibility: you did not imagine; you actually took a leap. For a moment you jumped two feet off the ground; you lifted your head and saw a little higher. Then you fell back to the ground. That is possible too. Both can be useful. Even imagination is an indicator that you want to imagine—really, that you want to experience; that is why…