I just wanted to pass on the story of how my family got involved with Osho. One day, my father was thumbing through some leaflets and alternative papers when a foto of a bearded man caught his eye, there was something about this man... he went home, but it wouldn’t let him go. So he took some time off from his post at the University, booked a plane to India and went to see him, leaving his wife and six year old son behind. He came back clothed in orange, and we looked and joined him. We visited India again, together, several times.
It was a classic case of listening to what the heart is telling you. It’s something mysterious, that sometimes the heart knows better what we need than our poor befuddled minds. But in order to listen you sometimes have to be ready to take a leap into the unknown. It’s a question of trusting your intuition, that it won’t lead you astray.
Sometimes we have that with spiritual teachers, that their words or their image suddenly seems to touch us. The spiritual can be a quest, with a number of twists and turns. You find some new influence, your head thinks it’s interesting but your heart seems unmoved, until one day you find that one person who inspires you.