What should I do if I want to take sannyas but fear potential trouble?

Osho, I do want to take sannyas, but I am very frightened of the world. If I take sannyas, will I be able to withstand the whirlwinds that will rise around me or not? Please reassure me.

Sannyas means: stepping into insecurity. Sannyas means: placing your feet in the unknown. Sannyas means: leaving the known, falling in love with the unknowable. How can I reassure you? The whirlwind will arise. My reassurance would be a lie. I can only say this much: the whirlwind is certain to arise—it should arise. If it does not, how will sannyas ripen? If there is no sun, no heat, how will the fruit ripen? If no wind blows, no storm arises, the trees will lose their spine. Only by bearing the gusts of storm and gale does a tree grow sturdy. The whirlwind will arise. I can assure you of at least this much: be absolutely certain, don’t worry in the least—the whirlwind will arise. And it will be far greater than you imagine. Nor will it be that it comes today and is gone tomorrow. As long as you live,…

Osho, I am eager to take sannyas, yet I have been hesitating for a year. I also have this doubt in my mind: what will happen by taking sannyas?

You are still living. Breath still moves. The heart still beats. The blood still runs. However many days may have been wasted, much is still left. The as-yet-unarrived is still there; the future remains. Live this future in a new way, Krishnaraj! Will you keep beating the same old track? Just as you think, “What will happen by taking sannyas?” now think this: what will happen by not taking sannyas? Until now you have not been a sannyasin. What has happened so far? One thing is certain: at least sannyas will be a new experiment. Whether anything happens or not, a new path will be cut. Who knows—what didn’t happen on the old path may happen on the new! Walk with at least that much curiosity. Who knows! The old path is familiar; will you keep circling on it? And not think even once that after so many rounds nothing…

I am afraid of taking sannyas. There are already so many troubles, Osho—no wonder the heart trembles at taking on the trouble of sannyas too. Please guide me!

Sagar Mal! When there are already so many troubles, then one more will be fine! You took all these troubles without asking me—and as far as I understand, without asking anyone—so why take this trouble only after asking! All I can say is: sannyas is such a great trouble that all the other troubles will become small—don’t be scared! And there is only one way to be free of small troubles: take on a great one. Then the small ones vanish on their own. They become so small. I don’t see what else there is in your life except troubles! Though, of course, they are little troubles—because your desires are little, your ambitions are little. Sannyas is a great trouble—because it is a great longing, a great thirst: the thirst to realize the divine. There can be no greater “trouble” than that. Once Mulla Nasruddin was traveling by train, and…

Osho, I am growing old, yet I still cannot gather the courage to take sannyas. What should I do now?

They say Ibrahim was struck—by the man’s voice, his power, his blow—and he said to him, “You stay; I will go. If it is an inn, then stay at your ease—but I am leaving.” Ibrahim left the palace! And whenever anyone later asked him, “What did you do?” he would say, “I understood the point. It is true. How many have halted in this palace, come and gone—it will be the same with me. If I must go, why the claim! I dropped it.” And Ibrahim said, “From the day I left that inn, I found my home. I came to know my true dwelling.” Sannyas is courage, yes—but not as difficult as you imagine. Once understood, it is very simple. I say only this to you: this world is an inn. And I do not even say you must leave it and go. Ashtavakra would not say that either.…

Osho, I have been listening to you for years. I have been with you a long time. From time to time I have heard many different statements from you, even mutually contradictory ones, yet no question has ever arisen in my mind about them. And in spite of them you have always remained one and indivisible in my vision and in my heart. Kindly shed some light on this.

You can be with me in two ways: through thought and intellect, or through the heart and feeling. If you are with me through the intellect and thought, there will be great difficulty. Day after day you will find contradictory statements. Every day you will have to sort them out, and still you will not succeed. The intellect never really resolves anything. Even where things are simple, the intellect tangles them up. And my words are very tangled. Even where everything is clear, the intellect creates problems. And I speak of paths filled with mist. Even if there were only one path, the intellect would find contradictions; here there are countless paths—contradictions upon contradictions. There is hardly a statement I have not refuted a thousand times. So if you are with me through the intellect, only two things are possible: either you will go mad and drop the intellect, or…