What should I do next on my spiritual path?

Osho, it feels as if life is passing moment by moment. I have even found a true master; still, why is the next step unclear?

There is no next step. Why are you thinking about a next step? To think of a next step means this step is not blissful; you want another. This moment is not enough; you want the next. Today is not sufficient; you want tomorrow. Somewhere there is pain in the present; you long for the future. The “next step” is the contemplation of a troubled mind. For the happy person, this very step is the last step. For the happy person, the path itself is the goal. If you are delighted with me, drop talking about the next step. There is no next step. The next step arises from a diseased, restless mind. When you are not happy today, you begin to think of tomorrow. To forget today’s misery you think of tomorrow, you spin hopes of tomorrow, you weave dreams of tomorrow, you become absorbed in tomorrow so that…

Osho, the journey so far has been hard, but with your hint and support I have passed through it. I feel blessed to have received what I had never even imagined! Whatever I experienced, I kept explaining to others as well. But the journey ahead seems not only difficult, it feels absolutely impossible. You say, “You are at the destination; drop the very idea of journey.” It seems somewhat understandable, yet the resolution doesn’t stay. Osho, why does this complaint arise? Am I expecting the impossible before its time? Is waiting an even harder practice than practice itself? Osho, what is this r

You get a glimpse that the teaching is right; but the ancient mind won’t let the glimpse stay. It protests, “How can this be right? What will happen to me? Where will I go? If you are already God, then what is the point of religion? What meaning has practice? If you are God, then who is saint and who sinner? Who is Ravana and who Rama?” The mind creates a thousand disturbances. “Then what difference between a drunkard and a devotee—if all are God?” It becomes hard to answer such questions. And the truth is: between saint and sinner there is no difference—only on the surface, in the mind; within, the same One resides. Between Rama and Ravana there is no difference. Have you ever gone behind the stage of a Ramlila? There the reality is revealed. The curtain lifts: Rama and Ravana stand with bows and arrows aimed,…

Osho, in meditation a kind of dullness has begun to set in. Thoughts don’t particularly bother me, yet full awareness is also not there. What is this state, and what should I do?

Let only one remembrance remain—do not stop; keep going. There are many possibilities, because each person is different; so the stages cannot be described too precisely. It is uncertain where rivers and mountain gorges will be met. Guidelines can be given, but each person is very distinct, very different. Where you meet mountains, another may not. Where you meet dullness, another may not. It depends on your habits in life, on the structure of your living. One who has always lived in the mountains will not feel dullness there; for him the mountains are just fine. You go there and you feel dullness—you belong to the market. You are a creature of the bazaar. Then it will be very hard. Bring a mountain man to the market and he will feel derangement: this is madness. He will want to run away. Gurdjieff once experimented with his disciple Ouspensky. He kept…

Osho, you always emphasize experience. I have done everything—worship and rituals, yoga and meditation, vows and fasting! And for some years I even lived like an old-style sadhu. Yet nothing came of all that. What should I do now?

You have done nothing. Do you even know what fasting is? Fasting—upavas—means to dwell near, to sit close to the Divine. It does not mean starving. Yes, it often happens that sitting close to Him you forget food; you forget to eat. In real fasting, food is not in the focus—God is; and God is so much in focus that you forget the body. Then food does not come to mind: that is fasting. When you fast, the exact opposite happens. What you do should not be called upavas; that is why we have another word—anashan, a hunger strike. You go on a hunger strike: “Today I will not eat.” But have you seen what a man does when he decides to fast? “Tomorrow I mustn’t eat”—so tonight he stuffs himself. He makes up for tomorrow today. Is that fasting? And what will you do tomorrow all day? You will…

Question: First question: Osho, A thousand suns flashed and sank, yet we could not turn our sorrowful dusk into dawn. Please, now tell us what to do? We have honored stubbornness so much we made a whole yoga out of it—Hathayoga! We honor the obstinate: the rigid, cranky, vain, stiff-necked. So stiff that even when the rope is burnt, the kinks remain. Someone stands on one leg for years—we call him a great yogi. He is merely pigheaded, dull-witted; only the dull are obstinate. Someone eats once a week; someone drinks only milk; someone lives only on water; someone stands on his head; someone has kept one arm raised for years and now cannot put it down—the muscles have lost their flow. We wash their feet and drink that water, calling them ascetics and wise. They are only stubborn.