Sharing

Osho, I want to carry your message from home to home, from heart to heart, but people are completely deaf and blind. What should I do? Having found what I have found, it is not possible not to share it. There is an inevitability to sharing it.

You who hurl a challenge to humanity all eight watches of the day, You who take palaces and treasures as your hereditary right— Tomorrow you will become dust-motes, kicked under people’s feet. Who here is there that has tasted the nectar of immortality? These rainbow dawns are borne on nights black with sorrow; In summer’s scorching flames there are showers of sweetness! This making and unmaking is the tread of deathless Time’s feet; These talk of joys and sorrows are like pictures of shadows here. To stop is not the law of motion—keep on walking, brother; To be extinguished is not the law of life—keep on burning, brother! Like a block of snow—pure, cool, bright—be the heir of glory; It is not the law for tears to freeze—keep on melting, brother! Keep flowing on, flowing on, flowing on, brother! Keep your head held high and bear the cold and heat,…

Osho, what is the proof of God’s existence?

And you still ask for proof? There have been people who offered proofs, and all their proofs are futile. No proof works. All the proofs for God so far are not worth a penny. Someone says: everything that is made must have a maker; such a vast world—surely it must have a maker. But that proof commits suicide; the moment it meets an atheist, it goes lame. The atheist says: If every made thing must have a maker, if God is needed to make the world, then who made God? With that he tightens the noose around your neck. Who made God? You protest: No, no one made God. Then the atheist says: If God can be without being made, why can’t the world be without being made? The argument collapses; it falls flat. You say: just as the potter makes the pot, so that Great Potter made this world.…

Beloved Osho, passing through the gate of this mandir for the first time in eight years, I felt a kind of fragrance which has stayed with me ever since. Is it possible to take this fragrance with me when I leave? Oh, beloved master, it is so beautiful, and I am so grateful to spend this time with you, even if I cannot take this fragrance with me.

Prem Maharaj, the fragrance that you have felt in this temple of seekers is not something that you can leave behind. This fragrance contains love, meditativeness, silence, trust, life-affirmative values, a song of gratitude, a dance with the trees and with the stars... This fragrance is an experience of a totally new atmosphere that does not exist in the outside world. If you meditate, you will become the same temple. Then, wherever you go the fragrance will go with you like a shadow; even others will feel it. It is not the first time that such a question has come to me. The moment they enter the gate many people have felt suddenly, as if they are entering into another world -- the air is different, the vibe is different -- as if they have come home. And there is bound to be a certain fragrance, because so many people…

Within, the mind suggests one arithmetic; life’s arithmetic is altogether different. To drop the mind’s arithmetic is sannyas. To grasp life’s arithmetic is sannyas. To awaken from the mind’s arithmetic is awareness. To recognize life’s arithmetic is Buddhahood. And life’s arithmetic is paradoxical. You too sometimes get a glimpse of it, because you too are linked with life. Whatever the mind says, you sometimes glimpse it in life. But since you cling so tightly to the mind’s arithmetic, you push aside those glimpses; you never contemplate them. Have you ever noticed—when you bow before another, suddenly the other bows before you. You have surely tasted this. When you become truly small before someone, suddenly you find great reverence arising in the other’s heart for you. Whenever you have heard a whisper of your own glory, it has been through humility.