What happens when one experiences awareness without the use of eyes?

Bhante! On 7 July 1977, at midday, for the first time I came to know that one can see even without eyes. My eyes were closed; I was aware, in complete relaxation. I saw that suddenly there was only a wondrous light everywhere, and in that light even the things behind my back were visible. At that time I did not raise any argument about what was happening; I was simply a witness to whatever was happening. In kaivalya, does the witness also merge with the light?

Asked by Shubhakaran Pungaliya. Auspicious, Shubhakaran! True it is. And this feeling, this question that has arisen in the mind—whether in kaivalya even the witness merges into the light—is precious. In that final moment, duality does not remain. Who is the witness? Witness of whom? In that final moment, devotee and God do not remain. Who is the devotee? Who is God? What is the seen? Who is the seer? There only one remains. Neither the seen remains nor the seer; only seeing remains. Neither the knower nor the known remains; only the energy of knowing remains. Only light remains; the witness does not. As long as the witness is, however deep the experience, the final experience has not happened. As long as the one who sees is present, what you see is separate from you, other than you. That is not self-experience. You are the seer and something is…

Osho, the one who sees all and dwells within everyone—why does he still not come to be known? How does that Seer and Witness of all come to be known? Please explain.

Only such a light, subtle sensing will be there—a faint intimation. But you will not be able to see it. You cannot hold it in your hand. It is inexorably the Seer and cannot become the seen. So what to do? Then what to do? Only one thing can be done: bid farewell to the seen. Whatever is seen, let it be dismissed. Let no scene remain upon the screen. Have you ever noticed? You go to the cinema to watch a film. It begins—the play of light and shadow starts upon a blank white screen—and you become absorbed. When you are completely absorbed in watching, when the story grips your very life, you lose awareness of yourself—you forget that you are the watcher. The seen becomes everything; the Seer becomes null. The Seer is forgotten; the scenes become all in all. If the scene is tragic, tears stream from…

Rest and unrest derive from illusion; with enlightenment there is no liking and disliking. All dualities come from ignorant inference. They are like dreams or flowers in the air: foolish try to grasp them. Gain and loss, right and wrong: such thoughts must finally be abolished at once.

IF THE EYE NEVER SLEEPS, ALL DREAMS WILL NATURALLY CEASE. IF THE MIND MAKES NO DISCRIMINATIONS, THE TEN THOUSAND THINGS ARE AS THEY ARE, OF SINGLE ESSENCE. TO UNDERSTAND THE MYSTERY OF THIS ONE-ESSENCE IS TO BE RELEASED FROM ALL ENTANGLEMENTS. WHEN ALL THINGS ARE SEEN EQUALLY THE TIMELESS SELF-ESSENCE IS REACHED. NO COMPARISONS OR ANALOGIES ARE POSSIBLE IN THIS CAUSELESS, RELATIONLESS STATE. The man said, "I don't bother, is there any other way? For twenty years you have been thinking, for twenty lives you will continue thinking. And whenever you renounce you will renounce this way, because this is the only way -- at once!" You see a thing clearly and it happens. The question is of clarity. An immediate look into the nature of things, then there is no question of changing somewhere in the future. No one changes in the future -- transformation is always here and…

Osho, who beholds the soul? How can the Self behold the Self?

As I just said, that lamp is a symbol: a lamp burns, things are seen. When things are not present, what of the lamp? It burns. Then only the lamp is visible there; nothing else. Likewise, the Self knows others. When it knows no other at all, what becomes of its knowing? The lamp of knowing remains lit. The taste of that lamp’s shining has no path of words. Yet something unprecedented is there. For that which could know the other—how can it be that it would not know itself? That which could see the other—how can it fail to see itself? For if one could not know oneself, how could one know anything else? Therefore in that moment there is an occurrence of a knowing in which knower and known are one, not two; of a seeing in which seer and seen are one, not two. In that instant…

The very thought that I am began melting away. A spontaneous gesture of namaskar remained within. Earlier I used to see whether the one I bowed to was worthy or not. Now, whoever it may be, he is only a pretext — bowing simply happens. And great joy is arising — even to those not monks, to whom there is no arrangement to bow, I bow; sometimes outside the monastery, I bow to trees and rocks. Now it is secondary who is bowed to. The essential is that the bowing fills with supreme joy — for bowing is the contrary of ego. To bend is the death of ego. One who cannot bend — let him be pure, disciplined, chaste, nonviolent, truthful — if he cannot bow, his eye will not open. Even his virtue becomes his ego; it becomes his pride.