What is it that keeps man moving through defeat and victory, success and failure, love and separation?

Osho, man just keeps on going—in defeat and in victory; in success and in failure; in love and in separation. What is it that keeps him moving?

Many times man comes very close to awakening. Someone dear to you dies. In that moment you are very close to Buddhahood. When you are in the sorrow of death, Buddhahood is very near. If you grasp the thread, a leap can happen. But you do not grasp the thread; you falsify the sorrow. You explain yourself away, you persuade yourself. You mount again upon the dreams of fresh hopes. Sorrow shakes you, but even that shaking you absorb. You bind up consolations, you think, “Soon all will be well again; spring will return; flowers will bloom again.” It is true too that the one who has departed will not return to you again—but life does not end with that. There are other people, other loved ones, and those who are not dear today can become dear tomorrow. “What has happened—forget it, let it go,” hope says—“leave it; much can…

Osho, does the ego have some elixir of life? Even on the verge of dying it seems to revive—who knows from where, how, and why?

Haven’t you seen that the harder it is to obtain the woman you fall in love with, the more your love seems to grow? Had Majnu got his Laila, you would never even have heard his name. The whole crux of the Majnu-Laila story is that he never got her. Quite possibly, had he got her, they would have ended in divorce. Stories proceed in strange ways. Because he did not get her, he kept weeping, aching, wandering deserts and mountains, calling “Laila, Laila!” Have you ever seen any husband doing that? Ask a husband and perhaps he hasn’t even properly looked at his wife’s face in twenty years. You too are a husband or a wife—try this: close your eyes and try to recall your spouse’s face. You will find it difficult. The faces of film actresses will come, but your wife’s face will not come clearly. And if…

Osho, life is suffering, yet man does not wake up. Despite the hell of life, how does man keep on going?

You asked, “Life is suffering...” You have not yet seen this for yourself. You have heard the buddhas say that life is suffering. It is not your own realization, not your own seeing. That won’t do. Borrowed words will prick your chest like thorns; they will not turn into flowers. Borrowed words become thorns—pricking, wounding—but from them the rain of joy does not fall. Have you known that life is suffering? Or have you merely heard the buddhas? Or have you agreed that since the buddhas say so, it must be true? Why would they be wrong? If they knew, they must be right. That is like someone believing that fire burns because others say so. Can you see the difference between others saying “fire burns” and your own knowing that fire burns? One’s own knowing creates a revolution. Then, as they say, once burned by milk, you blow even…

Osho, is sadhana only necessary so long as there is lust and desire?

Have you seen a tightrope walker? The whole time he sways left to right and right to left. When he leans left, a moment comes when a little more and he will fall; instantly he leans right, to correct the excess. Then on the right the same brink appears; again he leans left. In this way, by swaying, he manages to stay on the rope. But once he climbs down, will he keep swaying? He sits. Why would he lean then? He stands firmly; ground has been found. He is no longer on a rope. Moving in the world is like walking a tightrope. Every moment you must lean: now love, now hate; now sympathy, now anger—left and right. Lovers come to me and ask, “How can it happen that we never get angry with the one we love?” I say, it cannot be so—unless you climb down from the…

Osho, is it only disappointment that one finds in the world? Is it utterly futile to keep hope?

A little boy asks his old granny, “Granny, can you croak?” She says, “Yes, son, why not?” The boy says, “Then croak, please! Because mom was saying: ‘When that old woman croaks we’ll get lots of money.’” But the child can be forgiven; he understood as much as he could. He thinks it’s only a matter of saying “croak”—say it and we’ll get money. He doesn’t know what lies behind death. But even grown-ups behave the same way. Neither do you understand what is said to you, nor do you understand what you see. As long as mind is there, you deform everything. Only free of mind does truth begin to appear. Then this world is wondrous. Then it is not maya. Your mind has made it appear as maya. Your mind has cast the net of illusion upon it. Bhartrihari left palace and home for the forest to meditate.…