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The search for the way creates fanatics

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excerpt

series:

The Guest

Chapter 6

May 1, 1979 Buddha Hall

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125

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excerpt The Guest - Ch.6
excerpt The Guest - Ch.6

The sixth question:

Bhagwan (Osho), For years I have been listening to you to find out the right way to God. But the more I listen, the more confused I become. What is wrong with me?

Satya Prakash, there is no right way to God. There are ways and ways, but there is no right way to God. There are ways, but don’t seek the way. The search for the way creates fanatics. All ways are his, so don’t be too worried about the right way.

And how can you decide what is right? You don’t know anything about what is right and what is wrong. If you already knew what was right, there would be no need to search. You must be carrying a certain idea in your head. You must be carrying an a priori criterion, a conclusion given to you by others, and you must be judging according to that criterion. That’s why you go on missing me. And rather than clarity happening to you, you are becoming more and more confused.

My observation is that people who come already with a conclusion always become confused when they listen to me, because there is a constant struggle between what I am saying and their conclusion. Between these two they are crushed. People who come here without any conclusion immediately start attaining to clarity.

So that is what is wrong with you: you must be carrying a hidden conclusion – Hindu, Christian, Buddhist, Jaina. In a way you have already arrived, deep down in your heart you think you know. Now the only question is to find somebody who can support your conclusion.

You are not in search of a master, you are in search of somebody who can strengthen your ego, who can strengthen your knowledge; who can supply you with more information supporting what you already believe. But I don’t support any knowledge; I destroy all kinds of knowledge. I go on pulling away all that you know, brick by brick, slowly, slowly, until one day you find the earth beneath your feet has disappeared – hence the confusion.

Listening to me, you have become attached to me as well, and you are not yet detached from your old conclusions. Hence, you are pulled in two directions, opposite directions, and because of that you are in confusion.

Either you have to drop listening to me or you have to drop your conclusions. If you drop listening to me you will have a kind of certainty; not clarity but certainty, a kind of certainty – the stupid kind. Because you don’t know much, you can think that you know enough. A little knowledge is dangerous because it can give you the feeling that you have arrived.

An intelligent person knows that one is always arriving but never arrives, that life remains a pilgrimage, an eternal pilgrimage. One is approaching closer and closer to godliness every day, but this is an eternal process. One cannot say one day, “I have arrived.” When someone says “I have arrived,” he is simply saying that all his resources are finished, that he is no longer interested in the pilgrimage, that he is no longer interested in the journey, that he is tired, that he is weary, that he wants to settle down.

The real seeker goes on and on. And the joy of the journey is infinite, so who bothers to arrive? The stupidest person is one who has not taken even a single step along the way and still has the idea that he knows what is right and what is wrong.

If you drop listening to me you will have a kind of certainty: the certainty that ignorance gives, the certainty that false knowledge, borrowed knowledge gives; the certainty that will make you more and more stupid, more and more unintelligent.

Or you can drop your conclusions and come along with me. All the certainty that you have will disappear. I cannot promise you any certainty. I can promise you only infinite uncertainty – but clarity will arise, your mind will be unclouded. And in that clarity is truth, in that clarity you are able to see what life is.

You may not be able to come to any conclusion because life is vast and cannot be reduced to any conclusion – but you will be able to enjoy the bliss of existence. You may not be able to make a theory out of it, a system of thought out of it, but great poetry will arise in you, and great dance and great love and great compassion. Your life will become a rejoicing. I don’t promise you any philosophy of life, I only promise a new way, a new style of life.

You say, “For years I have been listening to you to find out the right way to God.” You seem to have arrived at right and wrong about almost everything, even about God. How do you know that God is? What certainty have you got about God? You have already decided that God is – and now you are searching for the way?

God is not a hypothesis. You cannot start with God, you can only start with an open heart, an inquiry into what is. You cannot call it God, you can simply call it an inquiry into whatsoever is: “I don’t know what it is, God or no God, but I want to inquire.” Then you don’t seek a way to God, then you seek a totally different thing. You seek methods of inquiry, not ways to God. And I can teach you methods of inquiry.

Meditation, all the types of meditation, are methods of inquiry, not ways to God. Yes, if you go on inquiring, one day God is revealed, but that is not for you to decide in the beginning. It happens one day when your heart is really clear, with no clouds in your inner sky.

What is revealed is called God by a few people, no-God by a few others; truth by a few, beauty by a few others; paradise by a few, nirvana by a few others. And there have been many who have not called it anything at all, they have remained completely silent about it.

One of the greatest philosophers of this age, Ludwig Wittgenstein, says in one of his most important aphorisms, “That which cannot be said, should not be said.” Down the ages, many have followed this dictum. Buddha has not said anything for or against God. He must have been asked thousands of times, but he would never say anything about it.

Whenever I come across somebody asking Buddha about God in the Buddhist scriptures I always remember a small anecdote…

A husband came home very late at night. It was three o’clock in the morning, the night was almost gone. He entered his wife’s room, and was very shocked because his wife was in bed with a stranger. He was so shocked that for a moment he could not say anything. Before he could find the right words his wife asked, “Where have you been? Why are you so late?” He said, “First, tell me who the man in the bed is.” And his wife said, “Don’t change the subject!”

Buddha always changes the subject; whenever you ask about God he talks about something else, immediately. He simply bypasses the subject. Why? – because he does not want to say yes or no. His respect for the ultimate is so deep that to say yes would be wrong, to say no would be wrong; because yes gives a limitation as much as no gives a limitation. No word can be unlimited, each word becomes a limitation. He never defines because all definitions limit. He is so respectful of the ultimate, toward the ultimate, that he simply does not talk about it. He will not even say this much, that “nothing can be said about it.”

Once he was asked, “If you don’t want to say anything about God, why don’t you at least say that nothing can be said about it? Because that’s what the seers of the Upanishads have been saying: ‘Nothing can be said about it. God is anirvachana, unspeakable, indefinable, ineffable.’ Why can’t you say this much, that nothing can be said about him?” And Buddha replied, “Even to say that would be saying something about him.”

You see the delicate point? Even to say that would be saying something about him. If nothing can be said about him you have said something already, you have given a definition already. If you say he is indefinable, then that is your definition. If you say he is unspeakable, you have spoken. There has been a long tradition of many mystics who have simply kept quiet, who have not uttered a single word.

But you have come here, Satya Prakash, with a certain idea, conclusion. You already believe in God, now you are searching for the way. Your name makes me suspect that you may belong to one of the most fanatical religious sects that has developed in this country during the last century, Arya Samaj, because this name, Satya Prakash, is usually used by the Arya Samajis, the followers of Dayanand. It is one of the most fanatical sects that has evolved in this liberal country; it is almost as fanatical as the Mohammedans.

Now a bill is coming in the Indian parliament called “Freedom of Religion.” It is supported by Arya Samajis all over the country; they are the only supporters of it. The name is just the opposite of what it really means to do: if it becomes a law then it will be impossible for anybody in India to change their religion.

It is called “Freedom of Religion,” but it will destroy all freedom of choice. It is basically against the Christians who convert Hindus, saying that no conversion should be allowed. The Christians are against it; they are demonstrating all over the country, making resolutions that it should not become law. Only the Christians are against it, and only the Arya Samajis are for it; both are in the same boat and nobody else is saying anything. The Arya Samajis’ concern is that no Hindu should ever leave the Hindu fold, and the Christians’ interest is that they should be able to convert as many Hindus as they can into Christians, by fair means or foul.

Satya Prakash, you may be an Arya Samaji. And my experience of different religious people is that the Arya Samajis seem to be the most closed; Jainas, Buddhists, Hindus, Sikhs are not so closed. Arya Samaj is a reaction against the Mohammedans and the Christians. In fact Arya Samaj should not be counted as an Indian religion at all; it is a reaction against Christianity and Mohammedanism, and reactions always reflect the original source. It is like the Christians and like the Mohammedans: very closed, adamant, stubborn.

If you are not an Arya Samaji, very good. If you are, please drop it. Only then can you understand what I am saying to you, and only then will it not be confusing; otherwise you will become crazy.

You say, “What is wrong with me?” This is wrong with you: that you are listening with all kinds of prejudice. Listen with no mind, listen being neither for nor against. I am not saying to believe whatsoever I say, no, not at all. There is no need to believe, but there is no need to disbelieve either; simply listen. Why can’t you simply listen?

And there is a beauty in truth. If you are listening silently without being for or against, when truth is uttered, it immediately stirs your heart. A dance arises in your being, you start feeling deep sympathy. And finally you become so deeply attuned to the utterance that there is no time to think about whether you believe it or not. If it is not truth, no bell rings in your heart, you remain unaffected by it – but no decision is needed by the mind.

And one thing more: my whole effort here is to confuse you because unless I confuse you I cannot create clarity. You are settled, you are certain; I have to shake you, shock you, I have to confuse you. Only then will you start seeking and searching for new planes of clarity. So in a way this is good, this is not wrong; it is good that you are confused. Something is happening – your foundations are being shaken.

They were seated on adjoining stools in a dimly lighted cocktail lounge. “Honey,” he said, “what about forgetting your inhibitions and spending a quiet weekend with me in Atlantic City?” “See here,” she answered, “after an exhaustive perusal of the corpus of documented evidence garnered by research on heterosexuality as applied to contemporary sociological mores, and in view of the innate predisposition to the more exotic manifestations of concupiscence evident in your demeanor, a categorical negative is my answer.” “But honey,” he said, “I just don’t get it.” “That’s what I mean,” she answered.

That’s what I mean. If you are confused, it is a good sign, it shows intelligence. Only an intelligent person can be confused. A stupid person cannot be confused; you cannot shake him, you cannot shock him. He is absolutely certain.

Remember, only fools are absolutely certain.

Mulla Nasruddin was saying to one of his disciples, “Never be absolutely certain because only fools are absolutely certain.” The disciple asked, “Mulla, are you absolutely certain about that?” And Mulla Nasruddin said, “Yes!”

An intelligent person is always ready to hesitate. The more intelligent you are, the more easily you become available to hesitation because each hesitation is a new beginning, a new search, a new inquiry.

But if you have come here not to be confused, if you have come here to gain more certainty – not clarity but certainty – if you have come here to attain more knowledge so that you can become wiser, so that you can attain to God more easily, more certainly; so that not only in this life but in the afterlife you have a guarantee, an insurance; if you have come to find a certain catechism, certain principles, fixed theories, dogmas – then you have come to the wrong place.

I am not a scripture, I am a living light. You can learn how to see by being with me, but I will not give you any commandments. And commandments never help anyway because life goes on changing and principles are always out-of-date.

A devoted husband commissioned a Frenchman to paint his wife’s portrait. She was quite nervous during the first sitting and said to the painter, “I realize I am not young anymore. I would like a good likeness, but please paint me with sympathy.” When the portrait was completed, the husband gave a party and invited a hundred friends to the unveiling. The cover was removed, and revealed a beautiful likeness of his wife. But a gasp of horror went through the audience because the picture showed a man’s hand reaching into the lady’s bosom.

“How dare you insult my wife like this!” shouted the irate husband. “Insult your wife?” exclaimed the painter. “How can you accuse me of that? I did everything I could to please her. She asked me to paint her with sympathy, and when I looked up the word sympathy in your dictionary, it said: ‘A fellow feeling in your bosom.’”

Enough for today.

The Guest

Chapter 6

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