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Part VII : New Death Celebrations
In March 1976 a Dutch sannyasin, Ma Vipassana, dies from a brain
tumour. She has been in a coma for several weeks, and hospitalized.
Osho recommended people visit and meditate with her to understand
the process of dying. Now Osho gives the precedent for death celebrations:
the body is brought to the Meditation Hall, and then carried to
the burning ghats, with singing and dancing.*
*Note: the darshan diary Nothing to Lose But Your Head, Ch.22,
contains a description of Vipassana's death, of friends' reactions,
the celebration, and Osho's discourse about it.
Whenever somebody dies—somebody you have known, loved,
lived with, somebody who has become a part of your being—something
in you also dies.
Vipassana had become a part of this commune, of this family. She
was totally surrendered to me. Her devotion was complete. Of course
you will miss her. A vacuum will be felt. That's natural. But
the same vacuum can be converted into a door. And death is a door
to God.
Death is the only phenomenon left which is not yet corrupted
by man. Otherwise man has corrupted everything, polluted everything.
Only death still remains virgin, uncorrupted…untouched by
the hands of man. Man would like to corrupt it also, but he cannot
hold it, cannot possess it. It is so elusive. It remains unknowable—and
man remains at a loss as to what to do with death. He cannot understand
it. He cannot make a science out of it. That's why death is still
uncorrupted. And that is the only thing left now in the world.
Use these moments.
When suddenly death enters into your consciousness, your whole
life feels meaningless. It is meaningless. Death reveals a truth.
When suddenly you come across death, the very earth underneath
you slips away. Suddenly you become aware that this death also
implies your death. Every death is everybody's death.
Never send a man to ask for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for
thee.
In death we are all equal. In life we may be different, separate.
individuals. In death, all individuality, all separation disappears.
Death reveals a fact about your life—that whatsoever you
have been thinking as very concrete, real, is very filmy. It is
dream stuff. It can be taken away from you any moment. So don't
be too much concerned with it…remain a little aloof.
This is not your home—at the most an overnight stay. As
Vipassana is gone, everybody has to leave. A caravanserai—you
stay for the night, and by the morning you are gone. Everybody
is standing in the same line, in the same queue. So don't feel
sorry for Vipassana. Don't feel sad for her. If you at all want
to be alert, aware, then be aware that your life—whatsoever
you mean by it—is just a dream. Any moment it will be broken.
The life that you have been thinking of as true life is not
true life. Death brings this truth home. It hammers deeply into
your heart. That's why it hurts. It is not Vipassana's death that
hurts you. It is something else…it is your own death. It
is the awareness that life is not worthwhile. And how much we
get involved in it, how much we get identified with it. And how
much we are ready to pay for it—and it is not more than
a dream.
Remember this…then you are using this situation for a
tremendous awareness. Your whole life can be transformed—and
then you will be grateful to Vipassana. And that will be a true
respect for her. And when I say don't feel sorry for Vipassana,
I mean it. She has done well, tremendously well. She has died
as one should die.
She accepted death. That is one of the most difficult things
to do. Only if you are in deep meditation is that possible, otherwise
not. Because the whole mind, the whole human mind, has been trained
against death. We have been taught for centuries that death is
against life…that death is the enemy of life…that
death is the end of life.
Of course we are scared and cannot relax; cannot be in a let
go. And if you cannot be in a let-go with death, you will remain
tense in your life—because death is not separate from life.
It is not the end of life. Rather, on the contrary, it is the
very crescendo…it is the very climax.
And if you are afraid of the climax, naturally you will be unable,
you will not be able in any way, to relax in life also, because
everywhere in life, death will be felt to be hidden. You will
be frightened.
People who are afraid of death cannot relax in sleep, because
sleep is also a very small death that comes every day. People
who are afraid of death are afraid of love also, because love
is a death. People who are afraid of death become afraid of all
orgasmic experiences, because in each orgasm the ego dies. One
who is afraid of death will be afraid of everything. He will miss
everything.
She relaxed. She died as I wanted her to die…in a deep let-go.
She accepted death. She was not in any conflict…she was
not struggling. And this is the criterion—that you have
come to know something tremendously beautiful within yourself
which is beyond death. One can relax in death only when one has
come to feel something which is deathless.
Those few days she was in hospital were days of suffering and
sadness for you, but not for her. I have been continuously watching
her. I have been in contact with her continuously. She was relaxing.
She has gone into death without any struggle, without any fight
on her part. Once you die that way then only one more birth is
possible—not more than that. She will be born once more,
that's all. And then the wheel of life and death is finished for
her.
You be happy for her—don't feel sorry for her. She has
attained to something very beautiful…you should feel jealous.
(laughter) And then you will be able to give her a good farewell.
Remember, not only you are here—she is also here. I would
like to tell a joke for her. It is not for you. (laughter)
During a seance the medium was offering to bring people back from
the other world. Among those present was a nine-year-old boy.
"I want to talk to Grandpa," he said.
"You be quiet," said the medium, annoyed.
"But I want to talk to Grandpa," the boy insisted.
"Alright, little boy," the medium said, and made a few
hocus-pocus passes. "Here he is."
"Grandpa," said the little boy, "what are you doing
here? You ain't dead yet?"
That I would like to say to Vipassana—"What are you
doing here, Vipassana? You aren't dead yet!"
In a way, nobody ever dies. In a way, every moment everybody is
dying. So when you go to give her the send-off, give the send-off
as one gives to somebody who is departing on a long journey. Not
to a dead person—to an alive person. Let this be a send-off
of dancing, celebration, festivity. She was a musician and a dancer—and
she would love it.
Dance when you go to give her the send-off this night. When
fire starts consuming her body, dance as much as you can around
her funeral pyre. Let your whole energy become a dance. Dance
to orgasm…forget yourself completely. And give this send-off
for her as if she is alive. She is alive…and if you really
dance, many of you will feel her alive presence. A few of you,
if you really celebrate the moment, will be able to see, actually
be able to see her.
So don't be sad—otherwise you will miss. Because when
you are sad and gloomy and depressed, your eyes lose perceptivity.
When you are happy and bubbling with some unknown joy, then your
eyes are clear; then they have a clarity. And for this moment,
deep clarity is needed, so that you can see the body burning on
the funeral pyre, and you can also see the spirit moving away…farther
away…to the other shore.
If you dance, and happily, gracefully, sing…. It will
be difficult I know—but not as difficult as you think. Once
you do it, by and by you will feel that it comes easy. The same
energy that becomes gloom starts moving, starts flowing, and becomes
a dance. In the beginning you may feel a little hard, because
you have completely forgotten how to dance. You have forgotten
how to dance in life, so how to dance in death? I understand.
But once you start, the energy starts melting, and soon you
will see you are dancing. And the sadness has disappeared, and
your eyes are glistening with a new light…and you will be
able to realise something. I am giving you a particular meditation
for this night.
Vipassana has left—but don't miss this opportunity. Death
opens a door of the unknown. She will be moving into the unknown.
You can also have a glimpse. The door will open for her, but you
can have a glimpse of the door, and her movement into the unknown.
So don't be sorry there. Don't be sad. If you want to be sad,
then don't go there, because your sadness will be a disturbance.
Go there dancing, happy, singing! And dance so totally that
the dancer disappears and only the dance remains. All of my sannyasins—dance
round the fire, and your orange, your fire colour, will become
flames. And you are going to have a tremendous experience, a royal
feast.
This is the way to give a send-off to a friend. And if you are
happy, you help the other person to move easily into the unknown.
If you are sad, it becomes difficult for the other to move away.
Your sadness becomes heavy on the other person. It becomes like
a rock, and hangs around the neck of the other.
Be happy! And let the other person also feel that she is remembered,
that she is loved, that she is accepted…and that she is
leaving a happiness behind her, a gladness behind her. In that
moment it is easier for the other to move; very easy to move.
Then there is no repentance, and one doesn't want to cling.
All have to go—man, woman, all. In India, women are not
allowed, but I would like everybody to go. Why should women be
prohibited from a beautiful and great experience? Death is for
all.
Even small sannyasins, kids, if they want to go, take them with
you. Let them also face the truths. Let them also experience.
Let them also start thinking along the line that even death is
not bad, that even death is beautiful—so that they can accept.
Unless you accept death, you remain half, you remain part, you
remain lopsided. When you accept death also, you become balanced.
Then all is accepted—the day and the night, the summer and
the winter, both the light and darkness.
When both are accepted, both the polarities of life, you gain
balance. You become tranquil…you become whole. And remember
always, my teaching is not for perfection. My teaching is for
wholeness….
Go happily…with deep prayer. If you cry, cry—but cry
with happiness. If tears come, let them, but let them be tears
of prayer, love, gratitude. Let them be tears of celebration.
Tears are not necessarily of sadness, remember. Tears have nothing
to do with sadness. They come only when something overpowers you,
overwhelms you. Maybe it is happiness, maybe it is sadness. Whenever
something is so much that you cannot contain it, it starts flowing
through the tears. Tears are just symbolic of something overflowing.
So if you want to cry, cry, but let them have the quality of a
song. If tears come, let them flow, but let them have the quality
of a dance.
The Hindu way of burning the body is very significant. It is
significant for the soul that has departed, because the soul can
see the body being burned, reduced to ashes. It helps detachment.
It gives a last shattering, a last hammering shock—because
when a person dies, it takes a few hours for him to recognise
that he is dead. And if the body is buried underground—as
for Christians and Mohammedans—then it takes many days for
the person to recognise that he is dead. With the Hindu way of
burning, immediately it becomes a realisation that the body has
been left.
Vipassana is going to be there. It is good for her that she
can see her body being burned, and turned dust unto dust. It is
good for her. It is good for—you because the same is going
to happen to your body also. Let it be a great meditation.
Now I will not delay you any more. She has to go long…beyond
the stars. For ten minutes sit in silence with me, and then you
go….
Life is beautiful…has its own blessings. Death has its blessings
too. Much flowers in life, but much flowers in death also…and
something of that has flowered in Vipassana.
Remember all that God gives has to be taken in deep gratefulness—even
death…only then you become religious. tolose22
Just a few days before, Vipassana died. Her brother Viyogi was
asked to hit her head; that has become symbolic in India. When
a person dies and is put on the funeral pyre, the head has to
be hit. Just symbolic, because if the person has attained to the
ultimate, then the head will break on its own; but the person
has not attained. But we hope and pray, and break the skull.
The point of release becomes open. This point can be seen. Some
day or other, when Western medical science will become aware of
yoga physiology, this also will become part of all postmortems—how
the person died. Just now they see only whether he died naturally
or was poisoned or killed or committed suicide—all ordinary
things. The most basic thing they miss, which has to be there
on the report—how the person died: from the sex center,
from the heart center, or from sahasrar—from where he died.
And there is a possibility—and yogis have done much work
on it—it can be seen in the body because that particular
center breaks, as if an egg has broken and something has gone
out of it.
When somebody who has attained to samyama becomes, just three
days before he dies, aware from what center he is going to move,
almost always he moves from sahasrar. A certain activity, a movement,
just at the top of the head starts working three days before one
dies.
These indications can prepare you how to receive death, and
if you know how to receive death in a great celebration, in great
joy, in delight—almost dancing and in ecstasy—you
will not be born again. Your lesson is complete. You have learned
whatsoever was to be learned here on this earth; now you are ready
to move beyond for a greater mission, for a greater life, for
more unlimited life. Now you are ready to be absorbed by the cosmos,
by the whole. You have earned it. yoga801
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