Interdependence

Osho, does living moment-to-moment begin the awareness of interdependence?

You have heard of Baital Pachisi (the Vetala tales). You would never suppose it could be a teaching for the wise—yet this land has made unique experiments. It has produced books that can be read on many levels, with layer upon layer of meaning—two, three, four, five meanings running parallel like five roads side by side. Thus whoever you are, there is a way. A small child enjoys it; the supreme knower enjoys it. The seeker finds the path; the arrived recognizes the destination. For one who is neither, it is a diversion—that too is something, a little entertainment. The first story goes like this. Emperor Vikramaditya was in court when a fakir arrived. As custom had it, people came in the morning to offer gifts. The fakir offered a wild-looking fruit. The emperor smiled—why come so far to offer a jungle fruit? But a fakir has nothing else, so…

Interdependence is a nice concept, but how is that possible when you urge an of us to be totally selfish?

First, interdependence is not 'nice', and it is not a concept. It is not nice at all. Independence feels nice; dependence feels very, very bitter; interdependence is neither nice nor bitter. It is a very balancing thing: neither this way nor that. It leans to no side; it is a tranquility. And it is not a concept, it is a reality. It is how it is. Just watch life and you will never find anything which is not interdependent. Everything that exists, exists in the ocean of interdependence. It is not a concept, it is not a theory. You just drop all theories, all prejudices, and look at life. Look at a small tree, a rose bush, and you will see the whole existence converges on it. From the earth it is connected. Without the earth, it would not be there. It goes on breathing the air. It is connected…

Osho, when he is conscious of this act, can he not also be conscious of the fear that someone is watching me?

The old man finished the hole, went inside, and said to his son, “Come in.” Taking the boy along, unlocking one lock after another, he reached the inner chambers of the mansion. There was a large wardrobe with priceless clothes and things. He opened it and said to his son, “Get in, and bring out whatever you like.” The boy went in—he couldn’t see anything at all; where was the question of choosing? He had no idea what was going to happen. As soon as he was inside the wardrobe, the father shut the doors, locked them, left the key hanging there, and shouted at the top of his voice, “Thief!” Creating a commotion throughout the house, the father slipped out and ran away. The son was locked inside the wardrobe. The whole household woke up; lanterns appeared, candles were lit, servants were searching, the owner was searching. The son…

A friend has asked, Osho, you say that if someone surrenders himself in every way to the divine—lets himself be absorbed, accepts it—then he attains the divine. Can worldly things also be obtained in the same way?

Don’t try that; you’ll get nothing! To get worldly things you have to employ means, you have to labor, you have to strive, you have to be restless, you have to be mad. The more mad a person is, the more successful he is in the world. A very eminent psychologist has just made a statement. He said that if the minds of the world’s great politicians were tested, they would be found deranged, because their success would be impossible if they were not utterly mad. That psychologist said that the reason for England’s great politician Winston Churchill’s success was that, in childhood, an astrologer told him—and then he got fixated on the notion—that he would not live beyond forty-five. From the day this idea took hold—“I will die at forty-five”—he plunged into competition like a madman. Others, who assumed they would live at least to seventy or eighty, were…