According to Osho, union with the Beloved is not gaining something but dissolving into it—like a moth consumed by the flame. As love, silence, prayer, and surrender deepen, yearning accelerates, and the false self is effaced. In that annihilation, impatience ripens into total surrender, and what remains is the Supreme Truth, the Beloved Himself.
It’s like a moth flying into a flame: as you near the Beloved, longing grows until your small self disappears and only the real light remains.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho! I set out to seek the Beloved; how is union with the Beloved attained?
Yog Neelam! The Beloved is not far. Not even so far that any meeting would be needed. There has only been forgetfulness, not separation. Separation cannot be. The Beloved abides within. He is the breath of our breath, the heartbeat of our heart. Without him we have no being. Because he is, we are. As the ocean is, so the waves are. The ocean can be without waves, but the waves cannot be without the ocean. Yet a wave can fall into a delusion—the delusion that “I am separate from the ocean.” In that very delusion, forgetfulness happens. Only forgetfulness happens; separation cannot. The whole search for the Beloved is nothing but remembrance—re-remembering. That is why the saints have called this search surati. Surati means remembrance, recollection. Surati is the folk form of the word smriti. What the Buddha called smriti, by the time of Kabir and Nanak became surati—dearer,…
Osho, I am burning and turning to ash in your divine fire. Now all words have fallen silent—I live by a single hope. “Crow, eat my whole body, pick at my flesh bit by bit; but do not eat these two eyes—for they hold the hope of meeting my Beloved.”
People will advise you. They will say, “Come back—once you were fine. Why take on this trouble?” People tried to dissuade Meera, they tried with Chaitanya, they tried with Buddha: “Turn back! What madness has seized you? Keep your wits about you!” The whole world is wise. So when you weep in separation, when His fire burns you, when your heart is cut inch by inch, everyone will ask you, “What has happened?” Do not return, heeding people; nor begin explaining to them. For there are matters that are not to be explained or understood that way. “Everyone asks me the reason for my weeping; My God, how can I make the whole world my confidant!” How can I make everyone a sharer in this secret? Everyone asks: “Why are you weeping? Why singing? Why dancing?” The “why” stands there. The very moment you act otherwise—different from people—they demand, “Why?”…
Osho, is it necessary to pass through the state of separation for union with the Divine?
I wrote and sent countless letters, still, cruel one, you did not come. The desolate garden’s days rolled by, dark monsoon clouds kept gathering; the henna beds breathed fragrance, the thresholds rang with birdsong, the neem in the courtyard flowered, the mango grove at home bloomed. Everything spoke—only you were silent; I sat alone, my heart caged. Laughter lost, joy lost, sleep was sold, peace squandered. At whose temple shall I wave the lamp? At whose door shall I surrender? To whom shall I send my silent messages, to whom my tender invitation? I wrote and sent countless letters, none ever returned to me. All came—only you did not; why this cruel spell upon me? Such intense longing took hold, such efforts did it compel. The threshold fell hush and mute, the latch kept clicking, waiting; the clouds swayed low and bowed, the rains held back, still waiting. Whenever your…
Osho, On the gallows lies the Beloved’s bed—by what method can one meet Him? Come, Beloved, come; tears stream from the eyes, the heart aches—Beloved, come and meet me.
“The Beloved’s bed is on the gallows”—it has always been so. But the gallows is what we see because we are uncomprehending. We have not yet learned the Beloved’s language; the Beloved’s symbols have not opened before us. We have tried to understand the Beloved through our own language. Therefore it seems: the Beloved’s bed is on the gallows. Anxiety arises. Who would not be afraid of dying? Coming to the master brings a tremor, a restlessness. A young woman came to me the evening before last. She had traveled from California. She said, “I want to return at once. First, I don’t even understand why I came; and now that I am here, I fear I may not get back alive.” She began to weep. “I have a child, a husband. Please let me go.” She has seen the gallows. But within those gallows there is also a faint…
Osho, I have just one prayer: that in the fire you have, I may be burned up completely and be lost.
Jesus has said: Do not try to save yourself, otherwise you will lose yourself. Jesus has said: Blessed are those who lose themselves, because then they can never be lost; they become available to the immortal. Only one thing here is stable; looked at from one side its name is meditation, from the other its name is love. Everything else is unstable. In this world only one thing is stable. If you look with the eyes of a devotee, its name is love; if you look with the eyes of the knower, its name is meditation, witnessing. But it is one and the same happening. Where meditation happens, the stream of love begins to flow; and where the stream of love flows, meditation happens. They come together, two sides of the same coin. I am not the eternal, nor are you; the existence of the life-breath is truth, of the…