Deva Suria, it is always true that space and time make no difference in the great love affair between the disciple and the master. It is not sometimes true and sometimes not true; it belongs to the realm of the eternal. But in actual experience, particularly in the beginning, the love of the disciple is still not so pure; it still has expectations. It is not desireless yet; it is polluted by many things.
Because of this pollution of desires, expectations, it appears that space and time make a difference. They don't make any difference as far as love is concerned, but your love is not just love; it has many more things involved in it. Even the expectation of enlightenment is enough to destroy its purity.
The principle is about the pure love -- love that is simply happy for no reason at all, love that has already joined the dance of the master in the heart. Then the master is not outside you; you carry him within yourself, wherever you are. That's why space and time don't make any difference. But if the master is still outside -- an object of love -- then certainly, space will make a difference, time will make a difference. The difference comes in through impurities, and the impurities are such that it is almost unavoidable in the beginning, because you cannot think of the desire for enlightenment as an impurity.
In fact, for you the great love affair between the master and the disciple is happening only because of your longing for enlightenment. Naturally, when you are close you feel more confident. The closer you are, the more you feel the presence of the master. The further you go away, your confidence starts shaking because the master is still only a means to a certain end.
The day Gautam Buddha died... there were ten thousand disciples who always followed him on his long journeys. In that great crowd of disciples, there were people like Sariputta, Maudgalyan, Mahakashyapa, Manjushri, Vimal Kirti, and many more who had already become enlightened, who had already crossed the barrier between the master and the disciple, who had entered into the world of the devotee.
When Gautam Buddha died it was a great shock to everyone -- even to his closest disciple, Ananda; he burst into tears. He was older than Gautam Buddha -- Buddha was eighty-two; Ananda must have been nearabout eighty-five or even more -- he burst out just like a small child whose mother has died. But Manjushri, Vimal Kirti and Sariputta remained utterly silent, as if nothing was happening, or whatever is happening does not matter.
Many disciples were shocked by the coldness of Sariputta and others -- they could not understand. They could understand Ananda bursting into tears; in fact, they thought that Ananda was the most intimate. And Sariputta and Maudgalyan and Mahakashyapa -- they were sitting silently. People asked them, "When Ananda is crying, why are you silent?"
Sariputta said, "Because for me, my master can never die. Death cannot make us apart.
He has only left the body, but he is here; my heart is still feeling -- in fact, feeling more than ever -- his presence."
And the same was the answer of the other enlightened disciples... not a single tear in their eyes. They were not hard, they were not cold. They had simply crossed the barrier between the master and the disciple. Either you can say they had entered into the master's consciousness, or you can say they had allowed the master's consciousness to enter into them. It means the same thing: the two had disappeared; now there was only one.
People's understanding was absolutely wrong that Ananda, who had burst into tears, must have loved the master more. Asked, he said, "I am crying because he was alive, and for forty-two years I have been his most intimate disciple -- intimate in the sense that I was always with him. In these forty-two years not even for a single day was I separate; even in the night I used to sleep in his room, just to be present in case he needed something. I am not crying because I was the most intimate, I am crying because even with such a long physical intimacy I have remained separate from him. Something has remained like a barrier."
Gautam Buddha was not dead yet. He had closed his eyes, and he was relaxing into the eternal. He came back, opened his eyes, and said to Ananda, "Don't be worried. It was my presence and your love towards me that was the barrier, because your love was motivated. You wanted to become enlightened before anybody else, and you were always deep down jealous when other people were coming to their potential, coming to their source.
"Deep down you felt hurt that you were so close and yet others were becoming enlightened who had come after you. You could not rejoice in their enlightenment. You could have rejoiced, you could have celebrated, but your mind was focused on your own enlightenment -- you were too much. And your unconscious continued from the very first day, holding on to the idea that you are a cousin-brother to me, and my elder brother.
"Although, after the first day you never mentioned it, still the psychological memory was there. Consciously, deliberately you became a disciple, but unconsciously you always knew that you were the elder brother; you could not dissolve with me. But don't cry, because the moment I am dead, within twenty-four hours you will become enlightened.
Without my death, you cannot become enlightened."
Ananda still could not console himself. He said, "After twenty-four hours you will not be here. To whom am I to say whether I have become enlightened or not? And I don't know when in the eternity of time I will meet a man like you -- a consciousness so great and so vast."
Buddha said, "Don't be worried; it is going to happen. I was watching continuously. I was myself puzzled why it was not happening to you. You want it too much."
And these are the problems: wanting enlightenment too much, and you will miss it; holding the desire anywhere in your unconscious to achieve it, you will not achieve it.
Relaxing, forgetting all about enlightenment, forgetting all about the future, living in the present, your love will attain to a crystal clear purity, undefiled by any desire, even the greatest desire of enlightenment.
Then you will not feel the distinction between the master and yourself; then you can carry the master within your heart. Then wherever you are, your master is with you. The duality is dropped; the two flames have become one. It is not your flame, it is not the master's flame -- when those two flames become one, they become universal. In separation, you are a disciple and there is a master -- in becoming one, the disciple disappears, the master disappears; what remains is only a pure awareness.
The transformation of love into pure awareness is the alchemy one has to learn by being close to a master. By being close to a master you can enjoy the warmth, his presence, his words, his heartbeat. But as you go far away you will not be able to listen to the same heartbeat; you will be again yourself -- back to zero. You will hear the heartbeat but it will be your own. Close to the master you are overwhelmed.
The secret to learn is to purify your love.
Drop all ambitions.
There is nothing to be achieved.
All that you want is already present in you. The master is not going to give you anything that you don't have. In fact, the master goes on taking away things which you think you have but you don't have. And the master cannot give you, of course, that which you have.
He can only take away all the barriers, all the hindrances, all the obstacles, so only that which is your own, remains behind. In that unpolluted space, the distinction between the master and the disciple is no more. That does not mean that you don't feel grateful to the master. In fact, only after this has happened, you feel for the first time a tremendous gratitude.
Sariputta was going very reluctantly on a message tour. Buddha had asked him to go to his own kingdom -- he was a prince before he became a disciple. Buddha said, "Now it is your responsibility and your compassion to go to your people -- to your father, to your mother, to your whole kingdom. What you have achieved, let them become aware of it. It is their potential too; share it."
He was very reluctant to leave. Buddha said, "What is the reluctance? -- because now I am within you. I am sending you away, knowing perfectly well that you will not feel any distance."
Sariputta said, "Distance is not the question. I can go to the farthest star, still you will be within my heart. The trouble is, here I touch your feet every day. You may be in my heart, but how am I going to touch your feet?"
Gautam Buddha said, "You are an enlightened being. You don't have to touch my feet."
Sariputta said, "Before enlightenment, it was a ritual. Just because every disciple was touching your feet, I was touching also. But now it is no longer a ritual. Now it is authentic gratitude, because without you I don't think I would have attained to myself.
Although it was always within me, I don't think that alone I was able to discover it -- not at least in this life.
"Your compassion, your love, your continuous showering of blessings slowly, slowly removed all that was not me. Now when I touch your feet it is not a ritual, it is a heartfelt nourishment. I feel nourished. The day I miss touching your feet, I feel a great gap. And I know that you are within me."
Buddha said, "Do one thing. All you who have become enlightened will have to learn to be away from me, and yet not away from me. It is true you cannot touch my feet, but from wherever you are just turn towards the side you think I am and bow down to the earth. My body belongs to the earth. If you touch the earth with the same gratitude, you have touched me."
Sariputta went away. And the people of his kingdom could not believe it; he had become such a glory, such a magnificence, such a beauty. All this was miraculous, but their curiosity was that every day -- morning, evening -- he would turn towards the direction where Buddha was dwelling far away, and touch his feet with tremendous gratitude. They said, "You are an enlightened being; you don't have to touch the earth."
He said, "I am not touching the earth. I have learned a new secret, that the body is nothing but earth, that the earth contains not only the feet of my Buddha, my master, but all the buddhas of the past, of the present, of the future. Touching it, I am touching all those who have become awakened and made the path clear for me, showed me the way."
Even when Buddha died, he continued... towards the same direction where Buddha's body was lying at the last moment. He never felt any separation. And it was not only for him, it was the same for all twenty-four disciples who had become enlightened.
Ananda became -- just according to the prediction of Gautam Buddha -- enlightened after twenty-four hours. He in fact did not move from the place. He closed his eyes when Buddha died and remained without eating, without drinking, without sleeping. Those twenty-four hours were the greatest time of his life, a time of transformation from an ignorant being into an awakened soul. He opened his eyes only when the tears had disappeared and a smile had come to his face.
Manjushri was close to him. He said, "What happened? You were crying; you were sitting as if dead, and suddenly you are smiling."
Ananda said, "I am smiling because his prediction proved right. It was the impurity of my love that was the hindrance. And now he is gone, there is no question of feeling like his elder brother, of feeling any attachment. In his funeral pyre, as his body disappeared into the smoke, all my attachments also disappeared."
It is not necessary, Suria, that I have to be on a funeral pyre before you can become enlightened. I can be if you need it. One day I will be, but it will be far more beautiful if the day I am on the funeral pyre, you are without tears. As I disappear from the body you know I have become more involved deeply within you, within the whole existence.
Nandan, a purification is happening. It has nothing to do with your monthly period. It may be coincidence that both are happening together, but because you have been capable of dropping your miserable relationship, which very few people are capable... Look at Latifa -- old great Om is back! It took me so much trouble to separate them... because both were miserable, but misery is something at least to hold on to. Both must have been feeling very alone without misery.
Misery functions almost like a magnet. People complain about it, but not really to get rid of it; they complain about it just to brag about it. They are really saying, in fact without saying, "Don't think I am alone; I am miserable!" And because misery hurts, they are in a dilemma: if they leave the misery, that means leaving the miserable relationship. Then they feel very lonely, and then they are reminded of the Western proverb -- and nothing is more miserable -- "Something is better than nothing." At least there was something to talk about, to question, to figure out -- and now you are just sitting in your room doing nothing.
Ginsberg returned home from a trip abroad on business to find out that his wife had been unfaithful. Very upset, he interrogated his wife, "Was it that dungheap Goldsberg?"
"Was it that pile of filth, Levensky?"
"Was it that swine, Morrie Levy?"
Finally Ginsberg exploded, "What's the matter with my friends? Not good enough for you?"
People are so attached to misery they are searching and looking for it. Nandan, you are in a beautiful space. Just remember not to miss, that you don't have anything to hold on to -- there is no need. Why should one have something to hold on to? Are you a passenger in a commuter bus, that you have to hold on to something? And even if you want to hold on to something, avoid for the time being, human beings; otherwise, they will start the same old story again.
With great difficulty you have been able to finish a miserable relationship. Rejoice in it.
And as far as holding on is concerned, anything... a teddy bear! And don't laugh, because you know the great bodyworker, Satyarthi? He still holds on to a teddy bear. He cannot go to sleep without his teddy bear. And it is an old dirty teddy bear, an old relationship, ancient friendship, from his very childhood... he has become greasy! He may be wanting to escape, but Satyarthi is holding on and he has strong hands. His art is deep massage, and I think he must be doing that massage to the teddy bear.
An outdoor man who had gone on hunting expeditions all over the world -- always accompanied by his wife at her insistence -- told his troubles to a friend one day.
"Yes sir," said the hunter, "I've taken that woman into the jungles of Africa, the jungles of Borneo, and the jungles of Malaya. The only trouble is, she always finds her way back!"
So Nandan, it is good. Hold on to anything. Keep the doors closed because the old misery may come back, the old miserable fellow will be also in the same space -- what to hold on to? Strange ideas... because I have lived my whole life without holding anything, and I don't see why you cannot.
Just learn to live. It is just a habit; there are people who cannot sleep without their intimate enemy, because it is a ritual. First they have to fight -- a good pillow fight, saying everything dirty that can be said to each other, and then, feeling tired, they fall asleep. Alone, one feels almost lost; one does not know who he is. But there is no need. It is only a question of giving a little time for your consciousness to become acquainted with aloneness.
Once you are aware of the beauty of aloneness, the purity and the ecstasy of it, you will never think to hold on to anything. And a relationship is possible without holding on to each other. Then the relationship also has a beauty. You are not dependent on each other; the other is not a teddy bear; nor should you allow the humiliation of being a teddy bear for him.
You stand as two pillars of a temple, separate but supporting the same roof. Your love is just like the roof: you are both supporting it, but you stand alone, in your beauty, in your silence, in your meditation.
Nandan, you are doing perfectly well. You ask me, "Osho, what is happening?" Nothing is happening, and that's what is needed. This constant desire that something should happen keeps one unconscious: running after shadows, throwing parties, going from here to there, to this person, to that person, for something to happen. But just watch your whole past -- has anything ever happened? One only deludes oneself that things are happening.
Stop deluding yourself.
All is perfectly good.
There is no need for anything to happen.
The moment you relax and you don't desire for any happening, you will be surprised -- millions of things are happening. So many birds are singing, so many trees are blossoming... Just get out of the imprisonment of your own making, and all around things are happening.
The whole of existence is always in a celebration -- participate in it. Dance with the trees, dance under the moon. Just for a few days, avoid human beings -- I am saying just for a few days, just to give you a gap to become acquainted with the nonhuman existence around you. Otherwise, you become so miserable with human beings, you don't have any time, nor do you have a clear eyesight. Everything becomes dismal and dizzy, and you cannot see the tremendous universe all around you, in eternal ecstasy.
Be acquainted with this existence, and after this acquaintance and the bliss that will arise out of it, you can share it with a human being -- and without holding, without any attachment, just being with a human being as if you are with a stranger. You don't know who he is, nor does he know who you are -- and there is any need to know. Let yourself be a mystery and let him be a mystery. It is good if you can have a few moments of joy and celebrate together, but the moment you see that holding starts, beware... you are getting back into the misery again.
It does not matter with whom, holding on is the fundamental cause of all misery. If you can relate without any relationship, just a casual friendship, you will feel grateful. There was no need for it to happen, but still existence has allowed you to be with a stranger for a few hours or a few days. Don't expect too much. That's why I am saying a few hours, a few days -- not even a few weeks. Because the more you expect, the more is the possibility to cling, to hold.
One strange woman from the Philippines... I have never forgotten her; she is a sannyasin.
She told me that after being in so-called relationships and always finding, strangely, that every relationship ends in hell, "I decided not to have any relationship, but only casual meetings with strangers."
She said, "I can tell it to you -- I don't say it to just anybody: In a train I meet somebody. I don't know him; he does not know me -- we enjoy the time together. And then a station comes -- he gets out. And the moments have been beautiful while we were together.
Now, perhaps we will never see each other, but those beautiful moments still go on lingering in the memory."
She said, "Since I learned that, I have been only with strangers. I have not even bothered to find out their names. I remember them only by their faces. And anyway there is no need to remember, because there is no possibility of meeting them again." But I have seen that the woman has a tremendous freedom and a great beauty.
Out of this understanding -- of not creating a relationship but only moments of relatedness, friendship, or better only friendliness; not falling in love but only enjoying love without creating any bonds, without giving promises for tomorrow or taking promises for tomorrow -- just live the moment joyfully. And when tomorrow comes it will also bring its own gifts.
Nandan, whatsoever pains and tears you are passing through are all cleansing. And you can feel it, that something new is happening: "Even though I have no idea what it is."
There is no need to have any idea. Let it happen, because having an idea means again you make it a mind thing. Let it happen; it is a cleansing of the unconscious. And it is good that it is happening in your premenstrual emotional turmoil -- that will clean your body and your mind, both together.
Just wait.... Some stranger is bound to knock on your doors. Never be afraid of strangers, because everybody is a stranger. However long you have lived with a person, you remain strangers. And being with a stranger has a freshness. Never hold him, and never allow him to hold you. Make it clear: "Our meeting is out of freedom; freedom is a greater value to me than love. Because if love destroys freedom, it destroys itself; if love enhances freedom, it enhances itself."
Freedom is our most precious treasure. Don't lose it for anything. And anything that comes out of it as an offshoot -- love, friendliness -- will have a great beauty to it, and will never create any misery; there is no point. The moment you see misery is arising, say goodbye; become strangers again as you have been before.
One thing I have observed which is very difficult for human beings to maintain: either they can love or they can hate, but they cannot remain just strangers neither hating nor loving. Remember, hate is also a relationship. And if you are going to have a relationship then it is better to have love, because in the misery of love there may be a few moments which are beautiful. But in the misery of hate it is all dark night -- no stars, no moon, no light, no possibility of anything; it is poisonous.
These are the secrets to learn: Love, but keep as much apart as the pillars of a temple -- don't come too close. Being at a distance is always good; a fresh breeze can pass between you. Coming too close, the bad body odor, the bad breath... and there are a thousand and one things. Life unnecessarily becomes a continuity from one hell into another. Just the names change, but the reality of misery remains continuous.
My vision of a good world is that people will be individuals, meeting with others, sharing their joy, their love, unconditionally. And not expecting that tomorrow also will be the same -- they will remain aware of the constantly changing existence.
Your love, your friendliness is also going to change. And when it changes don't cling.
Allow it to change. Be like a river, constantly moving; don't become a pond.
All marriages are ponds. They don't go anywhere, they are simply there. Water is evaporating every day and they are becoming more and more dirty. One day there will be only dirt.
The river is constantly flowing, and because it is constantly flowing, it remains always fresh. The freshness is in its flow.
Your life should be like a river.
And you will have to move through many scenes -- why get caught up with one scene?
Why go on reading the same page again and again and again? It is destructive. Once, it is beautiful -- twice, it is dangerous. Keep your eyes fresh, and keep your consciousness available, available in both ways: to allow someone in and to allow someone out, with no hate but only gratitude.
Slowly, slowly... Love is not the ultimate, it is just a training school for learning how to be alone. This togetherness is so painful that finally, even the most retarded learn that to be alone is the secret of being blissful.
Even Niskriya has learned it! He is a silent fellow; he tolerated as long as possible. He has no time for anything except his work, but even to him it became a trouble and finally, he had to get rid of it. Since then, he is looking very happy. I have just been wondering how long he will remain happy. It is possible -- he may remain happy -- he has his camera to hold on to!
So Nandan, you can find something. Anything will do except a human being; these are the most dangerous animals around. Don't get caught up. Unless you are certain that you are capable of getting out of any relatedness, don't enter in.
Keep the door open; don't close it. And keep the future clean without any promises to be fulfilled.
Amrit Sagaram, things are growing.
Since you started meditating, much water has gone down the Ganges, and much has changed in your consciousness. But don't ask for more; let existence take its own time.
Remember Ta Hui -- the more you hurry, the more you are delayed. You cannot do anything better than existence is doing already. Simply leave yourself in the hands of existence.
This relaxedness people have misunderstood always as laziness. It is not laziness. It looks like laziness to workaholics who cannot sit down, who have to do something because they are afraid the moment they stop doing something, they will have to know themselves. And that is their fear -- who knows who they are? It is better to avoid the encounter.
Relaxation is to be at ease. Whatever is happening to you is perfectly good.
You say, "Since I started meditating four years ago my life has changed tremendously.
Changes are happening, it is not that I have an insight and then I start doing something.
This has been a time of waiting. There is a feeling that something wants to express itself, and that I have to allow it." That's how it should be. Your mind is worried about what is happening because what is happening is going to take all the functions of mind out of its control. Hence, the mind is creating questions: "Am I waiting for something to grow strong enough or am I just lazy? Or am I waiting for Godot?" You are not waiting for any Godot.
Meditation is simply a waiting for the unknown, for the unpredictable, for the incomprehensible. And the more the waiting is pure, the more grace arises out of it. No hurry, no desiring, no expectations, just waiting and millions of things will happen. In fact, the things that are going to happen to a meditator are so vast you can not conceive of them, you can not have even dreamt of them; they are beyond the capacity of the mind to conceive.
You just wait and let things happen to you -- not according to you, but according to existence itself. Existence has not to be according to you; you have to be in tune with existence, according to existence.
This is the only difference between the non meditator and the meditator. The non- meditator always wants existence according to his ideas, and falls naturally into miserable states, because existence is too big; it cannot follow your ideas, your prayers, your expectations, your demands. The proverb is true that man proposes and God disposes -- but there is no God to dispose. In fact, in the very proposal, you have disposed of it. You have created a failure for yourself because you wanted to succeed.
So there is nothing to expect, nothing to desire. Existence is so abundant that if you are simply waiting it starts showering flowers on you. A life of waiting, without any expectations, is the only religious life I know of.
A Broadway bookie was given a parrot in lieu of cash payment. The bird's vocabulary included choice phrases in English, French, Spanish and German. Sensing a winner, the bookie hauled the bird off to his favorite bar. "Speaks four languages," he said to the bartender, who snorted in disbelief. "Wanna bet this bird can speak four languages?" the bookie challenged.
Annoyed, the bartender finally agreed to a ten-dollar wager. The bookie turned to the parrot and said, "Parlez-vous Francais?" There was no response. On the street the bookie glared at the bird, "You fink!" he exclaimed, "I've got ten bucks riding on you and you clam up on me. I oughta strangle you."
"Don't be a jerk," the parrot replied. "Just think of the odds you'll get tomorrow."
Just wait for tomorrow. My own experience is, every day brings so much that when I think retrospectively I cannot conceive that I could have expected it -- and it always brings in abundance! Existence is so compassionate and so sharing, but only to those who don't demand. Desirelessness is the foundation of all great happenings.
Sagaram, just wait in trust and everything that existence has will be revealed to you.
The Lone Ranger is about to be hanged by rustlers who caught him spying on their camp.
His only hope is Tonto who managed to escape and go for help. As the bandits are putting the noose around the Lone Ranger's neck, he sees three horses approaching at a gallop. Sure enough, as they get closer, he can see that it is Tonto on the first horse, but he can't make out who the other two riders are.
The Lone Ranger finally sees that Tonto is riding with two beautiful naked women. The riders burst into the robbers' camp and Tonto rides up to the Lone Ranger saying, "Kemosabe, I have returned with the people you asked me to get."
"Tonto, you idiot," says the Lone Ranger, "I told you to go get a posse!"
It is better, Sagaram, not to ask for anything; otherwise, there is always frustration.
Don't ask, and you will be fulfilled.
Just trust silently and wait, and miracles are always happening to the meditators. The greatest miracle is the revelation of the mystery of oneself.
You are perfectly on the right path. Beware of your mind -- it will try to disturb you, to distract you, to create doubts. Just put it aside. This great affair has nothing to do with the mind.