Acting

Beloved master, you once said that acting is the most spiritual of professions, and now we have a theater group. Can you say something about acting?

In fact, this man had always loved the woman who was acting as Sita, deep down in his heart. He completely forgot the play; he became utterly identified. It became a reality. He rose... now it was not Shiva's real bow, just one a village carpenter had made. He broke it into many pieces and threw it away before anybody could prevent him. Then he said to Janaka, "Now, where is Sita?" Now, what to do with such a man? And the whole audience was simply shocked. He was finishing the whole story, because now there could be no more to it. The whole story depends on Ravana being avoided, Rama getting married, and then the struggle when Ravana steals Sita, and the war and the whole thing happens. But if Ravana marries Sita, then it is all finished within two minutes -- and it is just the beginning, the…

Osho, yesterday you gave the message: “Learn acting.” But skilled and famous actors, even though they know the art of acting, are anxious, unhappy, and troubled. Why does their acting not free them from sorrow? Please explain.

There is a great difference between knowing the art of acting and becoming a non-doer. Knowing the art of acting is one thing; turning life itself into acting is quite another. An actor knows the art of acting when he is on the stage. The moment he steps down, he forgets the whole art. He comes home and becomes a doer again. On stage, when he plays Rama and Sita is lost, he will act; the tears will be false; he will ask the trees; all will be unreal. He will weep, call out, shout, set out to search—everything will be false. But if, on coming home, he finds his wife has run away, he forgets to “act” again. Then he really begins to cry; real tears will flow. On the stage there was acting; the moment he comes home, the sense of doership returns. Stage-acting will not help. Let…

Osho, I find your words very full of rasa, very delightful. But as a stage actor I want to go deep into the art of acting. So I am not yet ready for sannyas. Nor do I want to be limited to a single ochre color. I am interested in colorful clothes, because life too is colorful, rainbow-like. Can I come from time to time for your darshan without becoming your sannyasin?

But I had to choose some symbol. And I chose saffron deliberately. Deliberately—because for some five thousand years saffron has been in the wrong hands. It must be taken back from them. This lovely color has become a symbol of the denial of life. Yet it is the color of life, of spring. Hence its other name: basanti—the color of spring, when all flowers bloom. I don’t know how this spring-color fell into the hands of the wrong people—enemies of flowers, lovers of thorns—people who lay thorn-beds and sleep upon them, who long for thorns, who torment themselves in every way, who are filled with violence. Since there is risk in doing violence to others—for others will answer back—they do violence to themselves. No one can answer that, no one can defend against it. It became the symbol of the self-violent. It became the symbol of hypocrites—those who say one…

I don't see that there can be any better profession for witnessing than acting. Actors can move into meditation better than other people because their whole art consists of just creating a dream and being someone, knowing you are not that person. You are playing the role of Rama. You know you are not Rama; you are acting it. The witnessing remains there spontaneously. So whatsoever you are doing on stage, bring the same quality into the world also. When you come home, then too remember that this is acting. Be a husband and remember that this too is acting. Be a father and remember that this too is acting. If the twenty-four hours of your day become an acting, your quality as an actor will become superb and your witnessing will increase. Have you heard about one actor who looked like Abraham Lincoln?