Zen is as simple as the taste of tea

Maneesha, Zen is a simple phenomenon - as simple as the taste of tea. But if you want to explain it, it becomes the most difficult thing in the world.

These anecdotes indicate again and again the existential status of Zen, not philosophical, not theological. It is more poetry than religion, more music than philosophy; a language that is understood even by the bamboos, by the flowers, even by the cuckoos. It is a language of existence itself. This is the way existence opens its doors.

Mind is the enemy. The more knowledgeable the more dangerous, the more knowledgeable the more closed. When there is no-mind even for a single moment, you have come home: a thousand miles journey is finished in a single moment.

The questions asked are very symbolic. There are only a few questions that have been asked down the ages. Everybody knows the answer. Even the questioner knows the answer - as far as mind is concerned. But he is asking the question so that he can see beyond the mind and beyond the answer of the mind into reality itself.

This is one of the most important questions asked in the Zen tradition. Obviously, Bodhidharma is the most important master, who introduced Zen from India into China. The question: "What is the meaning of Bodhidharma coming from the West?" ... you will have to understand that the West does not mean what you know as the West. From China, the place Bodhidharma landed, India is West.

The concepts of east and west are very relative. What is east from one point is west from another point: in itself, it is neither east nor west.

Where you are, inside - in the East or in the West - there are no directions, no indications, just a pure isness. You are... and so strongly that you don't have to believe in it: you cannot disbelieve.

All the religions of the world have been telling people to believe; and I want to make it clear to you that unless you come to a point where you cannot disbelieve, all your beliefs are meaningless. That point where you cannot disbelieve, that indubitable point, is neither East nor West.

That was the purpose of Bodhidharma going from India to China. When Bodhidharma reached China, they were strongly influenced by the thoughts and philosophy of Confucius and Mencius, both great intellectuals. But neither of them had known the peace of no-mind. They knew much and yet - they knew nothing.

Bodhidharma's master had sent him on this long journey. Three years he had to waste to reach China. He himself was a son of a king. His master gave him orders: "It is now absolutely essential that you should carry the message of being in to China, because it is being overwhelmed by Confucius, Mencius and other thinkers. They think they have found the truth. Go and make it clear that 'Mind is absolutely impotent. If you want to know the truth, you will have to have the courage to leave the mind aside. Push it aside and enter into your silence.' "

That was why Bodhidharma went to China. Obviously, it became a traditional question for every Zen student.

Ryuge's temple was famous. He had a great turtle in front of his temple, cut out of a huge stone.

He said, "WAIT TILL THE STONE TURTLE SPEAKS WORDS OF EXPLANATION AND I WILL TELL YOU."

He is saying, "This is not a question to be asked. And if you insist, I give you time. Wait till the stone turtle starts speaking." Obviously it is absurd: that stone turtle is never going to give any explanations.

But Ryuge has answered in the Zen way, in the Zen language. "Wait" is the secret word. If you can wait silently, the meaning will shower on you like flowers. Or the meaning will arise in you like a flame. But wait!

Our minds are in such a hurry. We have completely forgotten the beauty of waiting. We want everything to happen quickly. But nobody considers that waiting has a beauty which you miss when you are running after shadows.

Ryuge's answer was perfectly right, "Wait till eternity. But wait; and you will find the meaning of Bodhidharma coming to China. The meaning will not be told to you by somebody else. It will arise in your own being. Just be silent."

These dialogues are immensely beautiful, a totally different play than Socratic dialogues or Martin Luther's dialogue. The monk thought himself competent enough to answer the question he himself has raised.

But you cannot deceive a master.

Now, if Ryuge had been just a teacher, he would have been embarrassed to continue. But Ryuge was an authentic master.

Now he found that he was not competent enough to have a dialogue with a master, with an enlightened person... and he could not deceive. And anyway, you are only deceiving yourself.

The question is the same. The masters are different. The answers apparently are different, but not truly.

Daibai said, "HIS COMING HAS NO MEANING."

Meaning is always part of the mind. Without mind, there is no meaning, there is only silence. There is significance, there is beauty, there is dance, there is music, but no meaning. Mind is meaning: no- mind is no meaning. One of the names of Gautam Buddha is tathagata. It has many connotations.

One of them is worth remembering at this point. It means, "Came thus, gone thus" - just like a breeze. You don't ask, "What is the meaning of the breeze coming and then going away?" You know the breeze has no-mind, hence you cannot ask the question.

Daibai said, "HIS COMING HAS NO MEANING."

But remember the word 'no' because that 'no' cancels meaning and mind. Just as waiting will cancel mind, its worries, its questions; just as waiting will make you silent, so 'no' will create the same space. Different masters, different answers; but pointing to the same space.

It does not happen anywhere: two dead men in one coffin. He is saying by this statement that you are putting two dead men in one coffin: you are putting this significance, the tremendous beauty, the grace, into one coffin with Bodhidharma. But Bodhidharma is after all a coffin just as you are, just as I am. Inside, there can be only one, not two.

Enkan's meaning is a little difficult to understand but he is saying, "Don't put contradictory things together. Mind and meaning? What has mind to do with meaning? And what has Bodhidharma to do with coming?" Even without Bodhidharma, dhyan was going to blossom. It is just coincidental that Bodhidharma was being used by existence to bring the message.

It reminds me of Albert Einstein. He was asked that, "If you had not discovered the theory of relativity, can you tell us how many years we would have had to wait for someone to discover it?"

Albert Einstein was certainly a very humble, sincere man. He said, "Not more than two weeks. The climate was ready. I was just a vehicle."

The people who heard this could not believe it. The theory of relativity is so difficult that the greatest philosopher of our century, Bertrand Russell, has written a book: THE ABC OF RELATIVITY. When he was asked, "Why ABC? Why not the whole thing up to XYZ?" Bertrand Russell said, "First I have to understand that much. I only understand the ABC."

Only twelve people in the whole world were known to have had some understanding of what Albert Einstein had found. And to say that within two weeks somebody else would have discovered it shocked people. They could not believe it. They thought, "Perhaps he is joking. Perhaps he is being too humble." But it is not humbleness, it is simple truthfulness.

And the theory was found in a German philosopher's notebooks who had discovered it before Einstein. But he was a lazy man and he did not publish it. So somebody had discovered it not just after two weeks, but perhaps two months previously. But lazy men are lazy men: it remained in his papers, which he never published; they were found when he was dead. He was the real discoverer.

There is always a climate. In a certain climate, as the spring comes and thousands and thousands of flowers start blossoming, as the rain comes and clouds and clouds cover up the whole sky....

Daibai's reply, "HIS COMING HAS NO MEANING," meant, "It would have come anyway. The time was ripe." Existence can give a little rope, but not much.

The monk brought this question to Gensha, another master. GENSHA, HEARING OF THIS SAID, "ENKAN IS A CLEVER CHAP."

I would have to remind you of Enkan's answer, "TWO DEAD MEN IN ONE COFFIN."

Gensha said, "ENKAN IS A CLEVER CHAP." He did not say that Enkan was enlightened - just "a clever chap." He made up the answer, which had not come from his own experience.

By the way, please note: our own Sekito has gone to Germany. He will be coming back soon.

Perhaps Germany has more stoneheads than any other country. Half of my disciples are German.

And it is not a coincidence that two years ago the German parliament passed an order that I cannot enter Germany. Clever chaps! They know that once I am in Germany, Germany is mine. It is better not to take the risk. For two years they have stayed on the safe side.

But it does not matter. My stoneheads go on coming here. Premda has come just today, finishing everything. Only stoneheads can do that: it needs guts. The German parliament is being very cowardly, very un-German; they should have invited me. I would have brought the dignity to Germany that it has lost because of idiots like Adolf Hitler.

Even Sardar is laughing. But let Sekito come back and Sardar will have to face him. But he is in good form. Yesterday, he faced... not only faced, but he had to swim in from a long way away - he was outside - to meet the strange philosophical creature, sitting behind Maneesha. And they had a good dance.

Sekito missed a great chance of meeting with another stonehead. And that stonehead has disappeared. Just one chance and one dance was enough. That is intelligence.

Asking such a stupid question, it is better you go to the post outside and ask. Having the opportunity of meeting an enlightened man, you should not bring such stupid questions.

Bodhidharma was just like a white cloud. Those white clouds go on traveling from one country to another country, passing boundaries without any entry visas, having no passports. They seem to be the most free people in the world. And Bodhidharma is just a white cloud; he cannot come for any special purpose; he must be just enjoying a morning walk. "But if you want to ask, go out and ask the post of the hall. Perhaps you may get the answer."

Asking a post outside the hall? I don't know what you mean.

"NOR DO I," SAID SEKITO .

This acceptance, "Nor do I," is one of the greatest contributions of Zen to the world. Being a not- knowing consciousness is not unworthy of respect, but is in fact the highest point of being aware, alert, conscious. It is buddhahood.

WHEN SUIYRO PUT THE QUESTION TO HIS MASTER, BASO... you have come across Baso again and again. He had thousands of disciples and is said to have made more people enlightened than anybody else, including Gautam Buddha. But his ways were very strange.

Baso said nothing but did something. Certainly, from the outside it looks as if he kicked the chest of the inquirer. But that is a photographic description from the outside. What happened inside? Baso had not hit the other inquirers in the chest. But hitting this monk in the chest simply means: the monk was absolutely ready, he needed only a little push.

And that little push, hitting him on the chest, knocking him down, was enough. It made it clear to him why Bodhidharma had come from the West. Just to knock you down and to bring you to your center, hidden behind your chest... The enlightenment of the inquirer was so great, he laughed aloud and said, "A miracle! A miracle! That which cannot be known, I have come to experience. That which cannot be said, you have said. You have opened the doors of millions of miracles, just by a single knock."

It was almost like a ripe mango, one knock and it falls. But unripe mangoes will not fall with one knock. It is only into those who have been preparing, waiting, keeping their doors open that a man like Baso enters. Baso is very compassionate, otherwise who cares to knock anybody down, to hit them in the chest? These methods are especially Zen methods. No tradition in the world has ever known anything about these secret methods.

But things when written lose much. I would like you to experience it. Writing and reading will not help. Learn to wait till infinity. Because you are eternal, there is no hurry. Be silent and if you have found a master, if you have fallen in love with a master, then just remain bathed in his presence.

Some day, the push will come.

You must have seen... birds have to push their children from the nest. It is something worth seeing because the same happens between the master and the disciple. When the egg is broken and the bird has come out of it, the mother leaves the nest, flies around the tree to give a sense, a feeling to the bird that, "You also can do it." But the poor small fellow simply flutters his wings afraid to go out into the vast unknown.

The mother goes to other trees and gives a challenge, calls the bird, "Come to me" - not in your language. The bird becomes slowly, slowly stronger and when the mother finds it is the right time, she pushes the bird out of the nest. First, the bird feels freaked out - the mother is killing him - but soon he finds that he has wings and he goes to another tree and calls back.

And once he has flown a few feet, a few miles does not matter. There are birds, for example swans, which travel three thousand miles every time, every year when the lake in the Himalayas becomes frozen. They have to come down to the plains, three thousand miles.

It is not only true about birds. One step is enough to understand that if you can step once, you can manage to travel a thousand miles. Soon the bird will be flying farther and farther away. One morning as the sun rises, the bird will be gone perhaps forever, not to return to the nest.

The master has to wait. Those days were more beautiful than the days we live in, because now if you hit somebody, you will find yourself in the police station - however much you try to say, "I am a master." However much you say, "He is my disciple and I am trying to make him awakened." It isn't going to help. You will have to appear in court.

I myself have been jailed in six jails and brought into two courts. And I could see: the people you call judges are absolutely unqualified. They don't understand even the ABC of meditation. They may know all the laws and bylaws, but they don't know themselves.

In these jails I had to spend time in - it was a strange experience - the prisoners seemed to be innocent. Perhaps out of innocence they had committed something which a clever man would have avoided. But in almost every jail, the prisoners said to me, "We are immensely happy to be in this jail at this moment, to be with you just for a night. We have only heard of people like you. But being with you, we never dreamed of it."

Only one jailer out of six jails had some sensitivity. He did not put me into the proper jail, but into the hospital. I said, "I am not sick."

He said, "You are not sick but I cannot put you in jail. A man who is trying to free other people from jails should not be put in a jail. You rest in the hospital."

And the head nurse and nurses and the doctor were all surprised, because he used to come at least six times a day to see me. And because he was coming to see me, his assistant and his other staff members all started coming. The hospital became my ashram for three days. They all forgot that I was a prisoner. They ought not to have asked me questions related to the secrets of life, for on the third day I had to leave the jail for another jail. The government felt that his jail was destroyed, because the jailer had also allowed me a world press conference. Even his assistant said, "This is not done. It is unprecedented."

He said, "I don't care. I am on the point of retirement. At the most, they can retire me."

The government must have felt very embarrassed by the idea of having a press conference inside the jail, so immediately I was removed. But when I was coming out of the jail, the jailer said to me, "In my whole life of service I have never felt unhappy when a prisoner was released. But about you, I would love it if you were never released from this jail. In three days we have become so much accustomed to you; without you there will be an empty space. If you want to have the experience of being in jail again, please don't forget us!"

And he had tears in his eyes.

Our bodies, our minds are nothing but jails. We are imprisoned splendor. And if you go on and on, around and around, you will not find yourself and your freedom. To be is to be free. To be is to be a god. Nothing less will do to describe the fact.

Question 1:

Maneesha has asked:

Maneesha, the beautiful person who was behind you was not a beast. No beast is a beast. He was just wearing the coat of a beast. He was nobody else but our poor Vimal. And remember, it is not only true about Vimal. Whenever you come to real beasts, they are also wearing coats. Inside them, is the same consciousness as is in you.

The gorilla behind you was as much a buddha as the buddha before you. And in between, don't forget that you are also a buddha. Here, there is only one quality of consciousness: the consciousness of being buddhas.

But don't be cuckoos. The moment you start declaring in M.G. market that, "I am a buddha," you will be in trouble. Keep this a secret within you, unwavering, never forgetting for a single moment that buddhahood is your nature. You cannot be otherwise. Although Vimal was hiding behind a gorilla coat, still Vimal was Vimal.

The body that Vimal has is another coat, given by biology. Behind that coat, given by your society there is another layer: the mind. And within that mind is your temple, your buddha. We are searching here for nobody else but our own authentic being.

It was good of Vimal to come in a gorilla dress, because everybody is wearing different kinds of dresses. The inside has the same taste, the same sweetness, the same song, the same laughter.

Hymie Goldberg and his son, Swami Deva Herschel, are discussing Herschel's coming trip to Poona.

"You know son," says Hymie, "you can get very sick in India."

"I know," replies Herschel, "and I can get killed walking across Fifth Avenue in New York."

"Well," urges Hymie, "at least think of your mother. She is worried sick."

"She is always worried sick," snaps Herschel.

"Well," says Hymie, "this guy you are going to see, is he Jewish?"

"Hell, no," replies Herschel, "he even works on the Sabbath."

Disgusted, Hymie snaps back, "You know, son, if you carry on like this, you will amount to nothing."

"Wow, Dad," says Herschel, "you really do understand."

Swami Deva Herschel has only been in Poona for a week, when he meets a gorgeous Ma, and invites her out to dinner. They go to the Regency Hotel and feast on Italian spaghetti, Japanese sushi, and French wine.

For dessert, they choose German chocolate cake and finish up with Brazilian coffee.

When the waiter brings them the bill, Herschel finds that he has left his wallet at home. So he takes out a picture of Osho and hands it to the waiter.

"What is this?" demands the waiter.

"THIS," replies Herschel, "is my Zen master card!"

Granma Murphy is eighty-five years old. She tires easily, has little appetite and is sometimes confused mentally. So her son, Paddy, calls for the doctor. He arrives shortly and goes up to granma's room where he undresses her, lies her down on the bed and gives her a complete physical examination. Half an hour later, the doctor comes downstairs.

"There is no need to worry," he explains, "there is nothing really wrong with her except her age. She will be all right."

Paddy is very relieved and goes upstairs to see her.

"Well, mother," he asks, "how did you like the doctor?"

"So, he was the doctor, was he?" says granma with a smile. "I thought he was a bit naughty for the priest."

Little Ernie says to his mother, "Mom, do dogs have spare parts?"

"Don't be silly," replies his mother, "how on earth could dogs have spare parts? They are alive."

"Well, then," says Ernie, "why did Dad tell Uncle Joe that when you go to visit your sister next week he is going to screw the ass off the bitch next door?"

Rupesh, beat the drum.

(Drumbeat)

(Gibberish)

Rupesh...

(Drumbeat)

Be silent, close your eyes.

Be in.

No movement.

Be as still as a stone buddha.

Rupesh, beat the drum.

(Drumbeat)

Everybody falls dead.

Let the body breathe;

you be as deep within yourself as possible.

This is the quantum leap

from mind to no-mind.

This is the message for which

Bodhidharma has come from the West

to China.

The message is:

it is you;

it is in.

Rupesh, beat the drum.

(Drumbeat)

Come back to life as totally as possible,

alive, fresh.

A few may still be in their graves.

For them a special beat...

(Drumbeat)

That's good.

At least it will make the drums enlightened.

Okay, Maneesha?

Yes, Osho.

Can we celebrate now?

YES!