Mind with a small m

Maneesha, before I discuss the Zen anecdote I have to say a few things to my sannyasins here or anywhere else in the world.

Write to the Nobel Prize committee that this old goat, the Shankaracharya of Puri, needs a Nobel Prize. And be quick, otherwise he will commit suicide, though that would not matter, even if the Nobel Prize had to be given posthumously. I have talked about the Shankaracharya, who continuously insists that sati pratha should be legalized and incorporated in the constitution of India.

Now he has come with a great original idea. For this original idea he needs, deserves a Nobel Prize. In Hyderabad there are no rains this year. He has said that if a woman commits sati, hara-kiri, rains would come. In the whole history of Hinduism there is not a single scripture describing any connection between a woman committing suicide, being burned alive, and the rains coming. For what? To quench the fire of the funeral?

But it is strange that in a country which is now bulging with a population of almost one billion, nobody opposes such stupid ideas. It seems nobody is concerned with what happens to man and his future.

These priests have exploited man for centuries, have destroyed his dignity. They have been the greatest slave-makers. Half of society consists of women and they have taken all freedom from them, even the freedom to breathe. They want women to commit suicide.

This person should be immediately imprisoned. He has to prove on what grounds, for what reason a woman burning alive can bring clouds? And as I have said, he should commit suicide himself to prove it; that would be more manly and more courageous.

Secondly, just like the women, in this country a great number of people have suffered for centuries; they have been called untouchables. If even their shadow touches you, you have to take a bath.

Such insult, such humiliation!

A new temple is raised, where the untouchables, to whom Gandhi gave that name 'HARIJANS', meaning God's men... clever politics, cunning diplomacy. If these are God's men, what is everybody else? And these "God's men" have been suffering for centuries: they are not permitted to read any Hindu scripture or enter any Hindu temple.

And because harijans are trying to enter this temple, suddenly all the Hindu chauvinists, who would not have dared to say anything against the Shankaracharya, are now demanding that he should retire from his post, because he is preventing the harijans from entering the temple.

Man's history is full of strange turns. On this point all Hindu scriptures are in favour of the Shankaracharya. If the politicians want to allow harijans into Hindu temples, they should burn all Hindu scriptures. But everybody's concern is votes. Nobody is concerned with the untouchables, the harijans, or their entry into the temple; the question is, "Should they remain part of Hindu society?"

Their number is twenty-five crore, one fourth of Hindu society. Even a man like Mahatma Gandhi was against giving harijans a separate vote, though it could give them a certain independence from centuries of slavery.

My own suggestion is that in the first place no harijans should enter any Hindu temple. They should avoid Hindu temples, scriptures, these so-called Shankaracharyas, and should simply declare themselves independent of Hindus. They are enough, twenty-five crore; they can rule over the country! But political parties want them to remain Hindus, because of their voting strength. The politicians are willing even to condemn the Shankaracharya who is right as far as Hindu tradition is concerned. He is perfectly right, because for five thousand years no harijan has ever entered any Hindu temple.

But they are suddenly against the Shankaracharya, because he is creating trouble. If these harijans separate themselves from the Hindu fold, the whole destiny of the nation will be different. But they are poor, uneducated, because they have not been allowed any education; they have not been allowed any job other than the ones they have been doing traditionally, the lowest jobs: cleaning people's toilets, making shoes, butchering animals. They have not been able to move into any other work.

But even Mahatma Gandhi was afraid - and I don't know why people go on calling him Mahatma.

The word means 'the great soul', but the soul was not very great, it was absolutely political, diplomatic. He fasted for twenty-one days against harijans getting a separate vote. The separate vote was only a symbol that was going to create for harijans a strength of their own. But they don't have to become anything, they don't have to become Christians, they don't have to become Mohammedans, they don't have to become Buddhists; nobody needs religion, everybody needs individuality, awareness.

And this is a good chance for harijans, but such is foolishness... although for centuries they have been pushed back from the temples and burned alive if found reading the scriptures, they still go on clinging and asking to enter into Hindu temples. There is no need for anybody to enter any temple, any synagogue, any church, any mosque. This whole universe is your temple and your being is the only scripture you have to read.

I am saying this, because Hindu chauvinists are trying to force harijans to enter the temples, while more orthodox Hindus are trying to prevent them. The whole thing is so stupid! The harijans should simply refuse to enter any Hindu temple or any Mohammedan mosque or any church. You are enough unto yourself. If I don't need any religion, if I don't need any temple, if I don't need any scripture, if I'm sufficient unto myself, why cannot you be?

But it seems the slaves are as much responsible for slavery as the slave-makers themselves. The slaves want to be slaves: they want to be dependent. They are afraid, without the priesthood, without the temples, of what would happen to their spiritual growth. I say to everyone: spiritual growth is an individual affair, it needs no organization, it needs no special place, it needs only for you to enter into your own space.

A NON-BUDDHIST PRESENTED HOGEN WITH A SCREEN THAT HAD A PICTURE PAINTED ON IT. WHEN HE HAD FINISHED LOOKING AT IT, HOGEN SAID, "DID YOU PAINT THIS WITH YOUR HAND OR YOUR MIND?"

I have to remind you of one thing: Buddhists write 'mind' with a small m, when they mean 'your mind'. And when they want to mean 'the universal mind', they write 'mind' with a capital M.

In this question Hogen has asked about a small-m mind.

THE ARTIST ANSWERED, "WITH MY MIND," - small m.

HOGEN SAID, "WHAT IS THIS MIND OF YOURS?"

THE ARTIST HAD NO ANSWER.

Poor artist! A very ordinary artist, who knows nothing of the intricacies and the workings of the mind - what to say about the no-mind? - facing a great master. And if a picture comes from your mind, it is going to be just a reflection of your craziness, insanity. Unless you know the no-mind, unless you know the space beyond mind, your painting, your poetry, your music cannot be sane.

We are living on an insane planet. From the second world war to today, without any great war happening, seventeen million people have been killed in small wars, which people hardly notice.

Is something basically wrong with the mind? It is violent, murderous, suicidal, it gives you misery, suffering, agony, anguish, and still you go on clinging to it.

This has to be remembered by my people, that unless your art, your creation comes out of your meditation, it has no value at all. Out of meditation, out of silence, every song becomes Solomon's song, and every picture represents, as a mirror will represent, a buddha. Before you create anything, uncreate your mind.

The artist was really very poor. I want you to be really rich, and there is only one richness which is hidden deep, very deep inside you. It is beyond the reach of your thought, of your reason, it is available only to those who can be utterly silent. Once you have got it, the very kingdom of God is yours. Then whatever comes out of it has a beauty, a blissfulness, an ecstasy.

Basho wrote:

It does not matter what you are doing; what matters is: is the inner space silent? Then even planting seeds in a field, you yourself become a song, you yourself become a dance.

Basho also wrote:

Our so-called mind is almost four million years old. It has passed through very dark nights, when there was no fire, no clothes, no houses; it has lived for millions of years in constant danger. That has made it aggressive, afraid, defensive, always being afraid of the dark night, of the wild animals.

The mind carries those four million years of darkness, the fear of death. Hence it is afraid, although the situation has changed. Now there are no wild animals except you. But the mind knows nothing of the present, it carries only the past.

If you want to know the universe and its mystery, you have to take a jump out of the mind.

Shataku wrote:

And Gotsuan wrote:

These people are talking about things which cannot be said, but out of compassion they are trying to make all kinds of effort to indicate to you your very being, which is your freedom; otherwise, everybody is a prisoner.

When I was imprisoned in America, the sheriff of the jail fell in love with me. He said to me, "Do you feel humiliated, because your hands are cuffed, your feet have chains, your waist has chains, do you feel humiliated?"

I said, "Everybody is a prisoner, just these handcuffs and these chains don't make any difference.

You are also a prisoner but your chains are invisible."

He was a little puzzled, an old man, but very intelligent. He said, "I don't understand."

I said, "You will have to meditate to see the point that your body is your prison, your mind is nothing but your chains. And I am not humiliated; these handcuffs and these chains that you have put on me simply expose everyone else's reality. As far as I am concerned, I am free. No chain, no handcuffs, no prison cell can hold me. I can move out, open my wings and be in the eternal - it does not matter."

He was very respectful. He used to come to see me about six times a day and he asked me, "What are you doing all the time? I am the sheriff of seven hundred prisoners here, but you are the strangest, you simply go on sitting."

I said, "It is such a rare opportunity not to move, not to do anything, not to have to remember if it is seven o'clock when I go to my people. I have never been so free."

He said, "You are strange, but the whole staff has fallen in love with you."

The moment I left that jail he said, "I know you have to go from here, but deep down none of my staff nor the prisoners want you to leave. Why can't you stay here? In three days the whole climate of my jail has changed."

I said, "I would love to be here, but my people are waiting. Next time, when I decide to have another taste, I will come directly to North Carolina in America."

He said, "You are always welcome, whether you are arrested or not, whether any court wants you to be in the jail or not. As far as I'm concerned, my doors are open."

There is only one freedom, the freedom to be; there is only one life, that which is hidden within you.

The moment you touch it, you have moved beyond words, you have heard the celestial song and a dance that continues from eternity to eternity.

Question 1:

Maneesha has asked:

Maneesha, your question is not a question, but only a statement of the truth.

Before we enter this moment, I think a cup of coffee would not be... Sardarji sounds very happy. This time he is sitting nearby. Basically he belongs where the bamboos are, just a turbanned bamboo.

Ronald Reagan takes Margaret Thatcher and Pope the Polack out to lunch. They go to President Reagan's favorite family restaurant, the 'Buns and Breasts Chicken House.'

After drinking a little too much wine with lunch, the slightly tipsy trio orders coffee. As it is being served, Ronald Reagan leans over to Margaret Thatcher's ear. With a devilish grin he slurs, "In America we say 'Pass the honey, honey.'"

The prime minister smiles and bats her eyelashes. Then stroking Pope the Polack's fingers sensuously, she slurs, "In England we say 'Pass the sugar, sugar.'" Then she says, "What do you say where you come from, Pope-sy wope-sy?"

Pope the Polack smiles and, straightening his collar, gives Margaret his best Valentino eyes. Then in a low voice he says, "Pass the tea... bag."

The phone rings at the Camp David motorpool and Private Leroy Jackson answers it.

"Where is that limousine that was ordered half an hour ago?" screams a voice at the other end.

"Why is it taking so long?"

"Oh, you mean the limo for old Colonel Fat-Ass!" replies Leroy.

"What did you say?" cries the other voice.

"Er... who is this calling?" says Leroy, sheepishly.

"You don't know? This is Colonel Hawkbutt! And who are you?" demands the Colonel.

"You don't know?" says Leroy. "Well then - bye, bye, Fat-Ass!"

The Bishop of Mississippi and his wife are owners of a magnificent parrot. But the parrot is a great embarrassment to the bishop because of its very unreligious language. However, his wife is devoted to the bird and will not get rid of it because of its great intelligence.

One day they are playing host to a new black preacher visiting from Chicago. The local people are not happy about having a black man preach in their church, but the bishop is doing everything he can to be polite.

After the services, the bishop and his wife are having coffee and a snack with the preacher in their home.

The black man sees the parrot in the corner and is impressed by its beautiful feathers.

"Say something to him," urges the bishop's wife. "And he will give you a reply."

So the preacher walks over with a little piece of food and says, "Polly wanna cracker?"

The parrot eyes the black man suspiciously, and then shrieks, "Nigger wanna watermelon?"

Now, Rupesh, give the first beat of the drum and everybody goes absolutely crazy...

(Drumbeat)

(Gibberish)

Rupesh...

(Drumbeat)

Be silent. Close your eyes. No movement.

Just be in.

This is it, your very being, your eternity,

your freedom from all limitations.

This silent space is what makes you a buddha.

In this moment

I am surrounded by thousands of buddhas.

To be a buddha is your birthright.

That is the quantum leap,

from mind to no-mind.

Mind makes you just an old ancient animal.

And no-mind brings a new universe

of ecstasy and blessings;

thousands of roses blossom in this space.

Now to make it deeper, Rupesh give the drum a good beat and everybody dies...

(Drumbeat)

Die totally.

Let the body breathe, don't bother,

you just go on digging deeper and deeper

within yourself.

There somewhere is the door

of the kingdom of God, so close

that it is unbelievable how one can forget it.

Once you have a taste of it,

keep it whatever you do,

just as an undercurrent.

Let this silence remain dancing.

Rupesh...

(Drumbeat)

Come back to life. Be a sitting buddha,

but keep the touch and the connection.

Never for a single moment

forget your divineness.

Okay, Maneesha?

Yes, Osho.

Can we celebrate the resurrection of so many buddhas?

YES!