
Suddenly a bud can open and become a flower
excerpt
series:
Be Still and Know
Chapter 9
Sep 9, 1979 Buddha Hall

135



The sixth question:
Bhagwan (Osho), When we don't understand you rightly, how do you feel?
I simply feel that you don’t understand me – and that is that. It is not a question of feeling anything else. I say, “Two plus two is four,” and you don’t understand – so I understand that you don’t understand. I try again next day. I go on hammering, “Two plus two is four.” If you understand, good; if you don’t understand, good. It is not a question of feeling. I don’t feel hurt, I don’t feel frustrated, because from the very beginning I am not expecting you to understand.
Frustration comes through expectation. If I am expecting that you are going to understand, then, of course, when you don’t understand there will be frustration, deep frustration. If I am hoping that you are going to behave in this way and you don’t, then certainly I will feel hurt. You have disobeyed, you have not proved worthy enough, you have not risen to the occasion. But I have no expectation at all, of anybody.
So whatsoever you do, I go on giggling and seeing it all. If you misunderstand, then I say, “Old man, try again.” What else can be done? And this is not a new situation; this has been always so and this is going to be always so. In fact, to expect that people should understand you is a subtle desire to dominate them.
Why? If they don’t want to understand you it is perfectly okay. It is their life. They don’t want to go in a certain way – it is their choice and they are free. Hence I never give detailed information about how you should live – although you go on asking me: what you should eat, when you should go to bed, when should you get up in the morning…. You go on asking about these stupid details. And these stupid details have been given by your great – so-called great – saints down the ages.
I don’t give you one single detail. I simply give you my insight, I share my insight. I open up my heart before you. If you can partake of anything, I am obliged, I am thankful that in some way my love, my understanding, helped you to become more loving, more understanding. But misunderstanding is accepted.
Krishnamurti gets very angry – sometimes even hits his head – when he sees that people are not understanding him. Why be so worried about it? He is taking things too seriously, he is not playful. You can ask me the same question a thousand and one times; I am not going to be angry. Each time you ask the question I am happily ready to share whatsoever is possible.
Why is Krishnamurti so serious? He was brought up by wrong people, the theosophists. They are very serious people. They had made a very mysterious philosophy out of all the religions of the world, a kind of synthesis. It is not a synthesis, it is just hocus-pocus, fragments from one place and a few fragments from another place. They were very serious people, and they wanted Krishnamurti to become the “World Teacher.” Now, how can you become the world teacher? There has never been a world teacher and there will never be. Unless the world decides to be your disciple, how can you be a world teacher?
In India there are many. All the shankaracharyas are called jagatguru – world teachers. I know one shankaracharya who has only one disciple! I asked, “What kind of world-teacherhood is this?” He looked a little embarrassed. I told him, “Don’t feel so embarrassed. I will suggest a way out to you.” In Hindi, jagatguru means world teacher. Jagat means the world, guru means teacher.
I told him, “You do one thing – you start calling your disciple Jagat – and then you become jagatguru. Don’t feel so embarrassed; there is always a way. One can wriggle out of laws and words and… Call him Jagat, and you are the guru, certainly.”
Theosophists wanted Krishnamurti to be a jagatguru – a world teacher. And they tried hard. They could not make him do it, because he was a really intelligent person. If he had been just a little less intelligent he would have become a jagatguru, a world teacher. But he wriggled his way out. But even though he has come out of their grip, the scars are left. The seriousness is still there; he is not playful, he has no sense of humor.
I am not serious. What I am saying to you is said out of playfulness. It is more a gossiping than a gospel.
Watson, a Clevelander in Paris, was unable to find a bordello, so he asked a gendarme to give him directions. The policeman did not understand English very well. Watson tried pidgin English and pointing. “Me,” he said, pointing to his chest. “Ah. You wish to eat?” said the gendarme. “No, no.” said Watson. He tried again, taking out a twenty-dollar bill. “Ah. You wish to gamble?” “No, no, no!” shouted the American in disgust, and he unzipped and zipped himself. “Ah, oui, oui.” said the gendarme. “Wee-wee, my ass. Where the hell is the nearest whorehouse?”
I am talking a different language, you understand a different language – but there is no need to make much fuss about it. It is natural.
A hippie was walking along the road when he saw a big rock by the side of the road, wobbling. Being a strong hippie, he picked up the rock to see what was underneath. To his surprise, out jumped a leprechaun. “To be sure, I am grateful to ye, lad.” he cried. “And in return for your kindness I will grant you three magic wishes.”
“Far out!” drawled the hippie. “Hey man, well, I wanna be uptight, outa sight and in the groove, baby.” “Okay.” said the leprechaun, and turned him into a Tampax.
There is no problem when you misunderstand me or don’t understand me – there is no problem. I simply enjoy, whether you understand or misunderstand. My enjoyment remains undisturbed.
And I am not a messiah, and I am not a missionary. And I am not here to establish a church or to give a doctrine to the world, a new religion, no. My effort is totally different: a new consciousness, not a new religion; a new consciousness, not a new doctrine. Enough of doctrines and enough of religions. Man needs a new consciousness. And the only way to bring consciousness is to go on hammering from all the sides so that slowly, slowly chunks of your mind go on dropping. The statue of a buddha is hidden in you. Right now you are a rock. If I go on hammering, cutting chunks out of you, slowly, slowly the buddha will emerge. It takes time.
And there is no hurry either. I am not in a hurry, because the problem with hurry is: the more you are in a hurry, the more the whole thing is delayed. And if you are not in a hurry at all, things start happening sooner.
I can wait forever, I can wait infinitely. But the miracle is: if you can wait infinitely, things can happen instantly. Right now the buddha can pop up in your consciousness; suddenly a bud can open and become a flower. And one never knows when it is going to happen so one has to simply go on working.
And the work should never be thought of as work but as worship. Working with you I am worshipping you. Talking to you I am loving you – not giving you a doctrine but my heart. Handle it with care.
Enough for today.
Be Still and Know
Chapter 9