Upasana

The second question is also related to this. 'Guna' has asked: Osho, I have been with you for a long time, and I am very ignorant and unintelligent—you know this well. Many of the things you say go over my head. The pain of separation from the Divine that you speak of—I have never felt it. I know nothing of thirst for God. Then why am I here, and what am I doing with all this meditation and practice?

‘Guna’s’ difficulty is exactly what I have just been talking about. She was born in a Jain household; therefore the word “God” does not carry meaning; even the word “thirst” carries no meaning. In the language of a Jain home there is no place for God or for prayer. The conditionings are Jain; the life-breath is not. On the surface the entire current—intellectually—is Jain; but within, the life-breath is that of a deeply emotional woman. She could have been dyed in Krishna’s color. With Krishna there could have been dance. With Mahavira, dance does not sit well; if you dance with Mahavira, it feels like a disturbance. There is no place for dance there—no place for song or instruments. That is the difficulty. So when I say “thirst for God,” a Jain can listen, but nothing moves within. All his layers of conditioning say, “What God? What thirst?” Because he…

Upasana means: to sit near to That. And the more duality there is, the more distance there will be from the seat; the less true worship there will be. The more non-separation there is, the nearer we shall be able to sit to That. Upavas has the same meaning; Upasana has the same meaning. Upavas means: to remain near to That. It does not mean starving oneself. So how are we to come near to That? And if in that nearness even a little distance remains, distance remains. We can be near to That only by becoming That. However great the nearness, it is still distance. Nearness too is only another name for distance—less distance, more distance. Truly near we can be only when we become That.

Whatever happens—first Ram, then the other. Your whole life will change. If someone abuses, and first Ram’s remembrance arises, then answering abuse with abuse will become difficult—how? Ram has come in between; now abuse becomes impossible. Even death comes—first remembrance of Ram; then even in death the sting is gone. Whatever happens—Ram stands first. This is what I call upasana. Twenty-four hours—rising, sitting, sleeping—the felt presence of Ram, of the Divine, of Paramatma. Slowly this becomes dense—so dense that everything else melts and flows away; only this density remains. Gradually all else is veiled—only the presence of God all around remains. Then when you walk, God walks with you. You arise—God arises with you. You move—God moves with you. You sleep—in him you sleep. You wake—in him you wake. Then all around—only he. In every breath—only he. In the heartbeat—only he. This is upasana. And there is nothing to ask.

What are Krishna’s upasana and sadhana?

No matter how lofty his words, the sadhaka will think in terms of benefit. His moksha is his happiness. His liberation is his liberation. Therefore, it is not surprising if in a very deep sense the sadhaka is selfish; he will never be able to rise above self-interest. The upasaka rises above self-interest; therefore the upasaka speaks of parmarth—he speaks of the supreme meaning, where the self is lost. What will be the meaning of this upasana, and what will be its movement and journey? It will be difficult to understand. That is why I say in advance: drop the word sadhana completely; it has no place. Then we can move to understand upasana. As I said, upasana means to come near, to be nearer. So what is the distance? One distance we can see is physical space. You sit there; I am here; there is a gap between us.…