What is the benefit of refuting eternal truths?

That very friend has asked one more question: They have asked: What benefit can there be in refuting eternal truths? They have asked: today’s new idea will be old tomorrow, then what is the gain in dropping old ideas?

First, that truth which is eternal has never been expressed in words. And whatever is expressed in words becomes temporal; it is no longer eternal. The eternal, the timeless, is beyond the reach of the word. Whatever we express in language, in words, becomes time-bound, of an era; it does not remain eternal. The Vedas, the Bible, the Gita, the Koran, what I am saying now, and whatever anyone will say in the future—all are truths of their time, not eternal. Certainly, those who spoke time-bound truths had known the eternal truth; but what is known cannot be said, and the moment it is said it becomes of time. What is known is one thing; what is said is another. Rabindranath was dying, on his deathbed. An old friend came and said to him, You should be joyful, grateful; thank God that you have sung what you had to sing,…

Our consciousness is a small lake, a mirror. All that is needed is not a search for truth -- because truth is everywhere, confronting you from all sides; all that is needed is to drop this constant disturbance inside, this constant inner talk, these waves upon waves of thought, this continuous traffic in the mind. When the traffic disappears and the road is empty6, suddenly one knows what truth is. It has always been there, it was just that we were not able to reflect it. In the beginning only moments of no-mind happen, just small intervals. For a second all stops and you can have a glimpse of the truth. But even those glimpses are so enriching, even those glimpses are so transforming; even those glimpses give you a mutation. You start living differently, you start living on a different plane.

Osho, awakened ones, considering place, time, circumstance, and the era-appropriate psychology of people, have expressed the same truth in very different forms. To the point that they appear mutually quite disputatious and even contradictory. Is an absolute expression of the ultimate truths of life and existence not possible? Will the limits of the age and the condition of the people always continue to be imposed upon truth?

Expression will always be limited. Expression will always be relative. The speaker and the listener—both create the boundaries of expression. I will say only what can be said. You will understand only what can be understood. Truth is vast. If I go to see the ocean and you say to me, “On your way back, bring a little of the ocean,” I will not be able to bring the whole ocean. I may bring a little water from it. But in that water much will be missing. There will be no storm of the ocean, no waves. And that was the real ocean: that tumultuous roar and fierce thunder! Waves crashing against cliffs! Those surges rising and spreading for miles! That swell! None of that will be there. I will bring a vessel filled with a little ocean water. Still, there will be something! If you taste it, it will…

Another friend has asked: If truth cannot be expressed in words and cannot be written in scriptures, then what is the way to express it?

Think of that man who went into that room and sat silently. What did he do? He left all words and cared only to fall silent—utterly silent. When he became perfectly silent, an answer came—not his own; it came from above, from depths; it was God’s. Let us too, for ten minutes in this quiet night, try to be silent. It is possible; there is no difficulty. We have simply never experimented—that is why it has not happened. But what has never happened may happen today; if not today, tomorrow. The possibility is always there. For those who put in a little effort, the possibility becomes a reality. What will we do here for ten minutes? Look: the night is utterly still—the trees are still, the moon and stars are still, the breezes are still. Can we not, for ten minutes, be still with them and sit quietly? There will…

Butei, the emperor of ryo, sent for fu-daishi to explain the diamond sutra. On the appointed day fu-daishi came to the palace, mounted the platform, rapped on the table before him, then descended and, still not speaking, left. Butei sat motionless for some minutes, whereupon shiko, who had seen all that had happened, went up to him and said, "may I be so bold, sir, as to ask whether you understood?" the emperor shook his head sadly. "what a pity," said shiko. "fu-daishi has never been more eloquent."

I have heard that Wittgenstein, a great Western philosopher, who comes nearest to the Zen attitude, used to say that he did not solve philosophical problems -- he dissolved them. And he used to say: "We leave things as they are but perhaps for the first time we come to see them as they are." Nothing can be done about things as they are. All that can be done is to help you to see them as they are. "We leave things as they are but perhaps for the first time we come to see them as they are." And again: "Philosophy simply puts everything before us, and neither explains nor deduces anything -- since everything lies open to view, there is nothing to explain." Yes, life is a mystery, and there is nothing to explain -- because everything is just open, it is just in front of you. Encounter…