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Part X : 1987-1990 Poona-Two : Osho is ill
For three weeks in April and May, 1987, Osho is ill and unable
to give discourses
When I saw you the other morning, you seemed so totally fresh,
so new, so radiant—deeper, and higher, and vaster than ever
before. What has happened to you in these days of silence?
There are many things that have not been told by the mystics
to people, just so that they don't freak out. One of the things
is the moment you become aware, conscious, reaches which were
unknown to you before become available. Your contact with the
body becomes loose, particularly after enlightenment.
The general understanding is that you will be more healthy.
You are in an inner sense more healthy, but as far as your body
is concerned, you become more fragile. So whenever I have a great
opportunity of being sick, I use it—just resting under my
blankets, being utterly silent. I love to be sick, to tell you
the truth, because then I can sleep twenty hours, at least. It
is sleep to the outside people; but to me it is a deep meditation.
So, because both my arms and their joints are in bad shape,
I cannot even participate in your rejoicing and in your music.
I have been resting completely. And whatever I do, I do totally.
That may have given you the idea that I looked "totally fresh,
new, radiant—deeper and higher and vaster than ever before."
I am always the same. But as you become more and more centered
inward, even to look outside is a strain on the eyes, even to
speak a word is a strain because effort has to be made. Otherwise
the silence cannot be translated in any way and conveyed to you.
golden15
You are saying, "I see you here every day, so radiant, so
full of light, so far away from the everyday reality of my life."
Don't take it for granted, because one day you will not see me.
And then you will repent for all those old days when I was alive
and available, and could have helped you in every possible way.
It is a strange thing about the human mind that you become aware
of things only when you have lost them. When you have them, you
tend to forget them—they become too obvious.
You are saying, "You are a shining beacon showing the way,
and the possibility of something more that can happen in me."
How long are you going to see me just as a shining beacon showing
the way? It is time. You should walk on the way; otherwise, what
purpose is my beckoning, my shining, my calling you forth, if
you don't move a single inch? Just don't get lost in enjoying
my presence; it has to become your experience too, and for that,
you have to walk the way. Gautam Buddha is reported to have said,
"Buddhas can only show the way, they cannot walk for you."
Nobody can do that. It is just not part of the nature of things….
Now you are saying, "It does not seem to matter really
anymore, each day seeing you again is enough in itself."
That is a very dangerous conclusion, because one day certainly
you will not see me. I cannot help it. I would love to remain
with you forever, but that is not how things happen. Today I'm
with you, tomorrow is uncertain, and the day after tomorrow it
is certain that I will have to leave.
You can be nourished by my presence, you can drink me, you can
allow yourself to be showered by me; but all these things should
create a passion to reach to the same state in which I am. Otherwise,
you will not be able to console yourself—your misery will
be great because you have made me something ultimate.
My presence is momentary. We are together for the moment—for
a few moments at the most—and then we have to depart. And
this departure cannot be canceled. So enjoy it, but don't be contented
with it. The enjoyment of my presence and your love for me should
be shown by your passionate search for enlightenment. There is
no other way. rebel03
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