According to Osho, you feel dishonest after speaking because speech instantly pulls you into the orbit of “the other”—courtesy, approval, and social roles—so the mind edits, pleases, and lies. In silence, there is no other to impress, so authenticity flowers. Learn the art of silence: speak only what’s essential, drop concern for opinions, and reclaim your center amid crowds.
Talking makes you try to please others, but being quiet leaves only you, so it’s easier to be real.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, every time after speaking I feel I have been dishonest; only when I remain silent do I feel honest—completely honest with myself. Why is this?
At Harvard University, psychologists ran an experiment. They split a class into two groups. To one half, in a separate room, they said: “The problem on the board is very difficult. There is hardly any hope that any of you can solve it. Even students in higher classes struggle with it. Only great mathematicians can solve it. We’re giving it just to see—by chance, perhaps—there is no assurance at all—maybe one of you might head a little in the right direction. Solving it completely is impossible, still try.” They tried. Out of fifteen students, only three solved it. To the other fifteen, in another room, they said—about the same problem—“It’s very simple. So simple that if any of you fail to solve it, it would be surprising. Students in lower classes have solved it.” Amazingly, twelve solved it; only three failed. What happened? Your confidence is borrowed—others hand it to…
Consider: had you remained disciplined, silent, how many disturbances would have been avoided in your life! By speaking you fall into countless entanglements; then to save yourself you must speak more. The chain goes on lengthening. It is a vicious circle, a devil’s wheel without end. Hence the sage becomes quiet. He speaks only as much as is essential—and only that by which someone may be benefited. Otherwise he remains silent. Even if you stop speech outwardly it is not necessary that it will stop within—for if you do not speak to others you continue speaking to yourself. You sit, and inside a conversation goes on. This inner talk also creates impressions, because when you speak to yourself, the mind is listening. Whatever you speak, you are carving a deep groove within. Stop speaking to yourself as well. Speech is a great mischief.
Osho, you have often said that the true master calls the disciple close, and then also sends him away. How can one know whether the master has sent him away in displeasure, out of anger, or as a blessing, out of joy, for the disciple’s further growth?
First thing: a master who gets angry is no master. Second: a disciple who, when sent away, thinks it must have been out of displeasure is not of the right mettle for discipleship. The master does not get angry; the very possibility of anger has ended. If ever a master seems angry, know that he is acting—for sometimes there is no other way. Gurdjieff would often appear angry—so angry it seemed there would be bloodshed. Those who ran away were deprived. Those who still remained came to know how rare it is to find a heart as tender as his. But why would he behave so angrily? Perhaps that was exactly what was needed for the disciple. Such things happened—and only Gurdjieff could do them—that two people would come to see him, one seated on the left, one on the right. When he looked to the left, it was with…
I said, "That's why I was saying to you that, 'You listen to my ideas. They will always help you.' So you just do one thing whenever you feel like talking. Watch whether it is of any use or just something like an inner itching, a irritation. Then it is better to write it down and keep it with yourself. Just writing it will help. It will be released. Soon you will see that all unnecessary things that you feel like talking have disappeared." Perhaps there are few things which are necessary to talk, and you can write on a paper and give to the person. He can answer on the same paper. And you can work with hundreds of people without a single word uttered. And this will give you many things: a great understanding why you want to talk.
The more you enter conversation, the more memory is lost. Whether you have noticed or not, observe now—most of your disturbances arise from your talking: ninety percent, or more. If you did not speak, ninety percent of your troubles would drop at once. You say something and get entangled. What happens in speaking? In speaking, awareness is at its lowest. Because in speaking the attention turns to the other; attention to oneself slips. When you speak, you go toward the other; your arrow points outward. Consciousness is an arrow: the tip faces the other; the feathered end faces you. The attention is on the person you are speaking to. Awareness of oneself is lost. And in that unmindful state you utter things you repent for lifetimes. You tell a woman, I love you. You never thought it through. It had never occurred to you before.