Samyak Darshan

Regarding the character of one who has attained samyak darshan (right vision): will that character become society’s, or will society’s character become his?

One who has attained samyak darshan has received a vision—of karuna, compassion, love, mercy. That vision has been received. Now, what is society like? For that vision to manifest, he will look for the instruments through which it can express itself—for example, for Muhammad, compassion meant making provision for four marriages. And the one who makes provision for four marriages—if he cannot himself demonstrate it by taking nine wives, then how will he make provision for four? You understand what I mean, don’t you? For Muhammad, this is what is compassionate. For Mahavira, this is not a matter of compassion. For Mahavira, this is not the question at all. In the era and milieu where he is, that situation does not exist; it has no relevance. For Mahavira it is difficult even to imagine such a thing. For Muhammad, celibacy is very difficult even to imagine—and utterly meaningless. Because if…

Question: Osho, about what you have been saying on the Jain perspective, it seems to me that two-thirds of it everyone could agree with, but there is one-third with which agreement is difficult. The first thing you say is about samyak-darshan (right vision). Anyone who has read even a little scripture knows that without right vision, character has no meaning; whatever happens without right vision cannot be called character at all. This view is very clear. And it is also clear that character has no meaning other than self-abidance: to be established in the soul is precisely what character means. On these two points I find myself in agreement with you. But between having right vision and being fully established in the self, in that interval your view seems to me different from the traditional view.

The so-called man of character is like a blind man who, by walking the same path again and again, becomes so habituated that he no longer needs eyes; without tapping the ground with a stick, without seeking anyone’s support, without groping or asking, merely by habit from going and coming on the same path, he begins to walk as one with eyes should walk. Seeing him walk, you may be amazed. You may even suspect that perhaps this man has gotten his eyes back. For he walks exactly as the sighted walk. But there is a deep difference. This walking is merely by habit. Through constant going and coming on the same path, it has become a habit. He knows every stone on the path. Every turn is familiar. He can walk the path, but merely walking does not open the eyes.

A pundit suffers from mental indigestion—he stuffs knowledge, but it lies like stones in the stream—it does not flow with life’s current. Samahita means: even if you forget it, it remains with you; no effort is needed—spontaneous, self-born. “He who is absorbed in these three—and does nothing else.” Nothing else is needed—these three suffice. In them all is done. “And he abandons nothing”—this will trouble Jain monks: neither does he “do,” nor does he “abandon”—for abandoning too is doing; in abandoning, the doer and the ego arise. Neither clinging nor rejecting—he lives in silent witnessing. “He alone, by Nischaya-naya, is the path of liberation.” He is the way to freedom. One stuck in holding and dropping will be stuck—wandering from here to there— Now in the temple, now in the Kaaba— Where all does the longing drag me to that Door?