If you listen with love and join in, you forget your small self, feel safely carried, wake up inside, and start vibrating so others can, too.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, the other day while listening to your discourse, a strange kind of vibration arose in the heart and along the auditory nerves; since then even ordinary sounds set off odd ripples and waves of bliss. Please tell me: is there something in the voice of enlightened ones that produces a special effect? Also, in your presence there is a particular, delightful fragrance; at times it is felt in the ashram and sometimes during meditation as well. In this regard, please say whether certain moments in time have their own special fragrance too.
I speak with the same purpose with which a musician plays the vina. He does not play to explain anything. Remember me as a vina player. My speaking is my vina. What I am saying to you—less am I speaking, more am I singing. If you understand its purpose, that is enough: listening to this instrument—as one sometimes, listening to a vina, falls into a trance—one begins to sway; something within begins to vibrate; something like a stone inside begins to melt and flow. For a moment a window, an opening, is there—sky is glimpsed. Like a flash of lightning—the darkness is gone—even if only for a moment; but then you know that light is, and you also know there is a path. It was revealed for a moment in the lightning’s flare, but revealed it was. Now no one can tell you there is no path; no one can…Read the full discourse →
Osho, when I read your discourses I am filled with wonder. But when I listen to them, only sound keeps reverberating. In the end, only emptiness remains, and a soft, delicate bliss. Is this your taste, Osho?
Certainly. I am not saying anything to convince your intellect. My effort here is not to placate your mind. Sometimes I speak on devotion—then the effort is that your heart be stirred. Sometimes I speak on knowledge—then the effort is that you transcend both heart and intellect and become a witness. But I never speak for the intellect. The intellect is like an itch: the more you scratch… While scratching it feels pleasant; afterward a great soreness comes. I am not speaking for your intellect, not for your head. Either I speak for the heart, or I speak for that which is beyond both—beyond heart and intellect. Either for the witness, or for your feeling. Either for your love, or for the awakening of truth within you. And the greatest benefit will be for those who listen by putting the intellect aside. Heard through the intellect, nothing much is heard.…Read the full discourse →
Osho, when I listen to your discourse I don’t know why I get lost in its love-music. It feels as if you are playing the sitar and I am playing the tabla. Sometimes it seems I am playing the tanpura and you are setting the keynote. Osho, what has happened to me? Please hold me!
Say to me: hurry! Say to me: let there no longer remain this fear that I might clutch at something and stop. Say to me: now drown me, make me senseless. Because what you have so far taken as sense was insensibility. What you have so far taken as awareness was unconsciousness. And what you thought was awakening was no more than dreams—deep dark night and sleep. Now this swoon I want to give you, this intoxication I want you to drink—this is the advent of awareness. It feels like unconsciousness to you because what you have so far called awareness, this is its opposite. This is a wine that brings awareness. From unknown realms, in secret, as rays descend and, drinking nectar to quench their thirst, open the hearts of flowers— so come, hidden, clothed in shadow! Let me come. When you say, Hold me! it means you have…Read the full discourse →
Beloved Osho, in last night's discourse, listening to you, I went into a state where your words became sounds, your voice became music, and in the gaps between your words, it felt as if I found myself rising up into the sky. At first I thought I was going to fall asleep, but it turned out not to be like this. Would you please help me in understanding this?
Out of this experience scientists may think that life is centered in the heart, that if the heart stops you are dead. It is not true. There have been experiments proving certainly that the heart can be stopped and the person does not die. After ten minutes he comes back, and the heart starts again. According to the spiritual science, life is just two inches below the navel. The child was joined by the navel to the mother. And the navel was nursing the source inside, two inches below... It has been cut from the mother's life, but it is still joined with the universe from the same place. It is not in the heart, it is just two inches below the navel. And because of this, in Japan a certain thing developed: hara-kiri. Hara-kiri is a special kind of suicide. Hara is the name of the center below the…Read the full discourse →
Osho, during discourse when I look at you, when I behold you, I hear your voice; but I don’t remain aware of what you are saying. So is this my swooning, unconsciousness? Please guide me.
No, Samadhi! It is not unconsciousness. Now for the first time you have begun to listen to me as one should. What I am saying is only a pretext—to keep you engaged, to keep you sitting here. It is with what I am that you have to connect. What is said in the words is nothing; what flows between the words is everything. The gap between two words—when sometimes I fall silent for a moment—then you will hear; only then is it heard. Forget what I say; don’t bother about that. Don’t forget what I am. It is not stupor. It is like stupor, but it is not stupor. It will feel like stupor. It is ecstasy, self-absorption. But self-absorption, too, seems like faintness; an intoxication descends. “The goblet slips, O saqi, the hands begin to tremble; Seeing your eyes, I fall into intoxication.” Let the intoxication grow. Let the…Read the full discourse →