Heartbreak

Osho, With a silent gaze and a broken heart we tell our story: the tears keep flowing, keep flowing! Until yesterday these desolate eyes held dewdrops, the moon and stars, the fragrant buds of dreams, charming colorful vistas—but now we no longer know which world we live in. Kindly tell us the address?

Deepak Sharma! Life can be lived in two ways. One is the way of sleep. There are sweet dreams there—but dreams are only dreams; they are bound to break. If not today, then tomorrow; if not tomorrow, then the day after—only a matter of sooner or later. And when they break, they leave a deep sadness behind. When they break, autumn descends. Life slips through your hands in dreams, and death stands at the door. There is another way to live—the real way. To live awake. To live free of dreams. Then there is a shower of bliss, a drizzle of nectar. Then flowers bloom and go on blooming. Not only do the hands fill; the very sky of your being fills with flowers. Most people live as if asleep. So the story you tell is everyone’s story. Ambitions, expectations, desires—“let me do this, let me do that”—the outcome can…

Question: BELOVED MASTER, DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO BREAK MY HEART? Yes, Somendra. It is a thankless job, but it has to be done. Man exists on three planes: the head -- the world of thoughts, the thinking process -- the most superficial plane. Below it is the heart -- the world of feelings, emotions, sentiments -- a little deeper than thought, but not the deepest. And the third is the realm of being -- no thought, no feeling -- you simply are. My work starts by destroying the thinking process first -- obviously, because that is where you are. I have to hammer your head mercilessly. Once your energy has moved from the head to the heart, I start breaking your heart too. First I use your heart as a temptation: I tell you to move from the head to the heart.

Osho, it feels as if something is eating me from within, which makes me feel sad and despondent.

Understand it like this: a man moves about convinced he has a diamond. Look at his swagger! Look at his gait. I have heard a story. Two fakirs were passing through a forest—a master and a disciple. The master was old, the disciple young. The disciple was a little troubled, for he had never seen the master so disturbed before; today he was very anxious. Again and again the master would put his hand into his bag and feel for something—again and again. And he was walking very fast—faster than ever. Again and again he asked his disciple, “Will we reach the village before nightfall or not? What if night catches us in the forest!” The disciple thought, What does it matter whether we sleep in the forest or in the village? Many times before we have spent nights in forests; I have never seen the master so afraid. What…

Osho, why am I extremely sad when there is no reason at all to be sad?

Perhaps for that very reason. When there is a reason for sadness, one can at least understand: well, there is a cause; at least there is a cause, so I am sad. There is a pretext. No one will call you mad. You can say: my wife died, my son went to jail, my shop collapsed, I went bankrupt. Then there is logic to your sadness. With logic, you feel safe. You can say it is perfectly natural to be sad. What else can I do? If your wife died, you too would be sad. If your business went bankrupt, you too would cry. So it isn’t only me who weeps. You can give reasons for your tears. The greatest sadness is when there is no reason at all. Then it becomes absurd. You cannot even say why you are sad. You cannot defend your sadness. You cannot gather arguments…