Transience

Osho, in the world everything is transient—so, if one must hold on, what is there to hold?

Now, tie a woman to a saint—what greater torment can there be? But the guru is angry: “Be quiet, you fool.” He is indignant. What is it that you want in heaven? If you open the scriptures, you will be astonished—who wrote this? Some sensualists must have. In heaven streams flow with liquor! There are beautiful women; flowers of gold bloom; diamonds and jewels are strewn along the roads. Whose imaginations are these? Whose sick fancies are these? Filled with greed, these people want to abandon the transient and attain the eternal. I am saying something else to you. I am saying: the eternal is not different from this transient. God is not other than nature; he is merged in it, contained in it. Creator and creation are not two. As the dancer is merged in his dance, so the Creator is merged in his creation. The day this becomes…

Osho, on the one hand Doolandas sings of life’s transience, and on the other, after drinking the nectar of love he plunges into carefree ecstasy where time becomes infinite! Please explain this paradox to us.

Narendra! A moment too is a fragment of the eternal—just as the drop belongs to the ocean, the atom to the vast. In a single small leaf the sap of the whole tree is flowing. In a tiny flower the entire existence has poured its beauty, its color, its fragrance—its all. The great poet Tennyson has said: if we could fully understand even a single flower, we would understand the whole of existence. For what appears small from the outside is, by unending pathways, joined to the whole. This flower would have no fragrance if it were not of the earth. It would have no colors if it were not linked with the sun. It would have no life if the breath of air did not move through it. The deeper you inquire, the more you will find the flower has already disappeared; little by little, the whole cosmos has…

Osho, in your satsang I am experiencing great joy and life appears to be a celebration. But isn’t the joy of this fleeting life also fleeting?

Naked in each other’s arms! At first they were delighted and rushed to embrace. But when ropes tied them to the post, how long does pleasure remain pleasure? Within a few minutes they began to panic: How to separate now? How to be apart? How to get free? But they remained bound. A few hours passed, and then another disturbance began. Evacuation of excreta and urine happened; filth spread. Each other’s mouths began to stink; sweat; such distress. And they had to remain bound for twenty-four hours. As soon as they were released, the story says, they ran away from each other so fast they never saw each other again. The young man even left the village. This proved a wondrous—yet very psychological—way to end love. You see in the West love is being uprooted, breaking. Why? There is no longer any obstacle between man and woman; therefore love is…

Question: Second question: Osho, everyone is searching—for a fistful of sky. Everyone wants a fistful of sky to hold to the heart, such a world that one can embrace. Everyone is running after love and security, but both remain mirages. Where, after all, is security? You say: leave yourself in the hands of existence. But that state looks even more insecure. How can love and security be attained? Well asked. Man is really chasing only two things: to have love and to have security. For security he hoards money; for love he forges relationships. For security he builds houses, raises fortress walls, sets up strongboxes. For love he gathers a wife or husband, sons and daughters, friends, beloved ones, family. It is from the search for security and love that the whole world gets built. What is this “world” you speak of? A fierce longing to obtain security and love.