Don’t be upset if people can’t understand; keep sharing kindly, and be glad if even one person does.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, I want to carry your message from home to home, from heart to heart, but people are completely deaf and blind. What should I do? Having found what I have found, it is not possible not to share it. There is an inevitability to sharing it.
You who hurl a challenge to humanity all eight watches of the day, You who take palaces and treasures as your hereditary right— Tomorrow you will become dust-motes, kicked under people’s feet. Who here is there that has tasted the nectar of immortality? These rainbow dawns are borne on nights black with sorrow; In summer’s scorching flames there are showers of sweetness! This making and unmaking is the tread of deathless Time’s feet; These talk of joys and sorrows are like pictures of shadows here. To stop is not the law of motion—keep on walking, brother; To be extinguished is not the law of life—keep on burning, brother! Like a block of snow—pure, cool, bright—be the heir of glory; It is not the law for tears to freeze—keep on melting, brother! Keep flowing on, flowing on, flowing on, brother! Keep your head held high and bear the cold and heat,…
Osho, every day you speak of nectar, and yet this world keeps returning poison to you. Do you ever feel: to which blind ones am I showing light, and to which deaf ones am I offering ambrosial words?
And remember one more thing: those who abuse and fling poison—this much is certain: they have a relationship with me. They think of me, they brood about me. A connection has been made. Enmity too is a bond—just as friendship is. One remembers the friend, one remembers the enemy. If they have taken me as their enemy, they have made a little room for me in their heart. From there the work will begin. That little space is enough: give me a foothold, and slowly—if the toe finds a hold, the whole hand will gain a hold. And those who are filled with hatred can, at any moment, be filled with love—because hatred and love are two faces of the same coin. In truth, they are angry precisely because they fear that if they are not angry, they may agree with me. So let me repeat: you are angry only…
Osho, whatever you say appears so wholly true and fruitful that an intense urge arises to tell it all to others, to the whole world. As a result the mind inevitably starts gathering your words; it keeps thinking about how to convey them to others. At the same time, I also feel: until I myself have attained something, how can I say anything to others? So what should we do?
Rightly so. This is exactly what I was saying: let meditation and compassion grow together. If meditation is completed and you attain, but in the meantime you have not laid the foundation of compassion, you will be lost. The day your boat is ready, you will simply leave. So do not wait, thinking, “When I am complete, then I will speak.” Because then you will not be able to speak at all. While you are not yet complete, begin to sow the seeds of compassion. This continuous urge rising in you to tell others—this is the feeling of compassion. Because there is nothing to take from others, only to give. You want others to receive what is coming to you—this is a tender, love-soaked state. Do not take it as something wrong. Remember: only if you keep practicing speaking now, will you be able to utter a few words even…
Osho, what we see in you others do not see. Why is it so? Must one accumulate something over many lives for this?
Each person has a different journey, a different bent, a different vision. To some, music is beloved; to others, it is only noise. Some have the capacity to experience beauty; others have nothing in their hearts but stone. One overflows with love’s spring; another is dry. No two people are the same—nor can they be. Yet, unconsciously, we keep trying to have everyone feel the same, perceive the same. That is impossible. And the higher the experience, the more impossible it becomes. On the lower plane there may be some agreement—on the marketplace level, perhaps a consensus. But in the heights of the sky, our privacy and each person’s unique capacity manifest fully. So what you see in me need not be seen by another. Surely, you have earned something over many lives, polished your eyes, guarded your recognition; hence today you see. Even in thick darkness you can recognize…
Osho, I want to bring light to the world. And you have also said this is your message. How should I begin this great work?
Jagdish! Have you found the light? Have you become illumined? If you had become illumined, you wouldn’t ask this question. Because one who is illumined doesn’t have to ask how to show light. Light begins to pour from him. When a lamp is lit, the lamp does not ask, “Now how should I light up the room?” The lamp is lit—there is light. The lamp is lit—light begins to fall on people’s paths. The lamp is lit—and even those wandering in distant darkness begin to see. Someone lost in a far-off forest can also see the lamp in someone’s hut. Once the lamp is lit, light flows of its own nature. You simply do not ask. Your lamp has not yet been lit. Yes, you want the pleasure of showing light! And such a delusion arises because your so‑called sadhus and saints keep telling you: Serve! Work for people’s welfare!…