Yesterday I was listening to a series of Osho discourses, called ‘The Rebellious Spirit’ from 1987, in which he answered questions from the community of sannyasins around him. They were beautiful answers, that ended up destroying the questions by going deeply into them.
I recall when I met Osho at our family darshan in 1979, when I was seven years old. I was sitting in front of him, on a cushion on the marble floor, and I remember it was like the light of the full moon was shining from behind him, his presence had that quality of silvery light, a loving presence that was like there was no-one there but presence itself.
In a way such an experience fulfills the spiritual search. I didn’t know it at the time, because I hadn’t started my search, but that was the moment. It is now clear to me that in that moment your role changes from a seeker to one who has found a place to drink his wisdom, one who can dance, celebrate, sing with joy.
Somewhere Osho is still available, especially through the sound of his voice.
Comments
The thing is, I didn’t really start seeking until I was forty in 2012. It took me a while to reach a spiritual maturity, a journey that began with Osho, took in Buddhism, moved on to various other teachers until I was ill with it on Old Years Day 2023. Then I let go, and ended up in a kind of between state, a spiritual resting zone.
I came across a question the day before yesterday by an older Ma called Pravira, in ‘The Hidden Splendor’ discourse #4, which asked, if “it” happens to them, why doesn’t it happen to me, am I getting too old? To which Osho answered, “don’t compare yourself to others, return to the earliest experiences of sannyas when you were innocent of expectation and join the dancing! Blissfulness is contagious. And you are never too old, even on the last day of your life there is enough time for transformation!” I’m paraphrasing a little, the actual answer was several pages long.
It was a question which could have been made for me, an answer to the question I had. It spoke to me, as if it was important for me. That was when I realised that seeing Osho in the darshan was kind of an end to the spiritual search for me, because in his presence you didn’t need to seek anymore, you could just be in peace and listen, and afterwards join in the dancing.
Buddhism makes you a seeker of enlightenment, for this life and tells you there are many more lives. It places you on the Buddhist path, gives you a goal, and a practice. It is fine as far as it goes, it introduces you to meditation, but it doesn’t give your own religiousness room to grow. It imposes its pattern on you. And that is why I ended up being more a Dharmist than a Buddhist.
Seeking has nothing to do with age.
Arriving is not based upon years.
Awakening can happen in a moment.
Or not emerge after decades.
What is the cause?
The heart
Where is Osho now, where is the Buddha, where is Nisargadatta?
They are the fingers pointing to the moon.
They have left behind books and sutras, and I read them, widely and frequently. The reading opened doors for me, but it was never satisfying, just short-lasting insight and then on to the next nugget of wisdom. It was returning to the memory of living enlightened presence that brought peace to the search, for me.
Maybe @bunks had the right Buddhist approach by spending time amongst monastics.
Thus have I heard.
"Don't practice to 'become' enlightened...Let your practice be the natural expression of your enlightenment"...
In other words don't seek, just do...
Seeking enlightenment is a fool's game...
We all have Buddha nature...( Buddhas in waiting)
"Paradoxically, it takes time to become who we already are"
This I like, there is more to it than meets the eye. We are already enlightened at heart, we just need to achieve clarity and love and bliss.
Seeking can put you in touch with seeds of wisdom, it is not entirely wasted time.
Maturity takes time, but not only time. It requires being separated from distracting influences, and it requires being surrounded by enough of that which is wholesome.
The thing is, Osho said he had no teachings, and the attempt by his secretary Sheela to compile a “Rajneesh Bible” back in the early days of the Ranch failed miserably. He didn’t leave behind a path, other than to meditate and to celebrate life.
His discourses are subtle, they take a question in a whirl and look at the askers motivation. It was like he could tune in to his disciples, see their mind and thoughts and give advice based on their progress.
In the end Osho died in 1990 and the body was cremated. He left behind the text “never born, never died, only visited this earth”. I still like to go back and visit the photographs of his funeral procession on the way to the ghats.
It takes time to realise what we are not. This takes noticing rather than doing anything.
By turning our attention away from objects of the mind and directing inward,