OSHO’S WORDS: Leaving the Old Chrysalis behind?
Lokesh reflects
Osho said:
Chuang Tzu is one of my love affairs, and when you talk about someone you love you are bound to use extremes, exaggerations, but to me they don’t sound like that. I could give the whole kingdom of the world to Chuang Tzu for any single parable that he wrote — and he wrote hundreds. Each is a SERMON ON THE MOUNTAIN, a SONG OF SOLOMON, a BHAGAVADGITA. Each parable represents so much, and so richly, that it is immeasurable.
Rumi said:
“Words are a pretext. It is the inner bond that draws one person to another, not words.”
Osho loved Chuang Tzu. A few weeks, ago I came across the following parable below, which was new to me, and I thought, this could well make a fine foundation for an interesting article on SN … …
The Way of the White Clouds, was the first Osho book that really grabbed me, but it was more his photo and sannyasins that first attracted me to Osho before that, back in 1973.
At that time, Osho was, to employ a Biblical metaphor, “fishing for men”. His books were part of the bait. The Way of the White Clouds was perhaps the first Osho book that really grabbed my attention, Of the over 600 books authored by Osho I have read maybe 200 of them.
There was a time when in old Poona, I eagerly awaited the publication of a new Osho book, after having attended the discourses. My favourites were The Beloved, The Supreme Understanding and The Mustard Seed. Today, I rarely read anything by Osho.
When talking of Osho’s legacy and heritage one must include his books and videoed discourses…his words. I am quite sure many are still inspired by them They are no longer an inspiration for me, because I went to the source of those words, thus making them obsolete in my life. That is not to say they will not be of value to another. I reckon by now, if you yourself had actually met Osho, you will have sensed where this is going. Now that Osho is dead the use of his books as bait to draw you to him has become redundant. So, being part of Osho’s legacy, what purpose would you say they serve today?
In regards to Osho’s books, I reckon, especially in regards to people who actually met him, what he left behind printed on paper was really not that important. Osho was quite a visionary, yet the value of Osho’s visions that his words conjure up - is little – if compared to the instructions Osho gave for those who should want to actually see and live those visions for themselves, and thus see the same things as Osho saw. In other words, practice the disciplines Osho recommended: which is simply to bring a meditative quality into your daily life.
Now to the Chuang Tzu parable. And remember that Osho would have given the whole kingdom of the world to Chuang Tzu for any single parable that he wrote. That is what you call love and respect.
“Duke Hwan of Khi, First Minister in his dynasty, sat under his canopy reading his philosophy; And Phien the wheelwright was out in the yard making a wheel. Phien laid aside his Hammer and chisel, climbed the steps, and said to Duke Hwan: “May I ask you, Lord, What is this you are Reading?”
The Duke said: “The experts. The authorities.” And Phien asked: “Alive or dead?” “Dead a long time.” “Then,” said the wheelwright, “You are reading only The dirt they left behind.” Then the Duke replied: “What do you know about it? You are only a wheelwright. You had better give me a good explanation or else you must die.”
The wheelwright said: “Let us look at the affair from my point of view. When I make wheels, if I go easy, they fall apart, If I am too rough, they do not fit. If I am neither too easy nor too violent – they come out right. The work is what I want it to be. You cannot put this into words: You just have to know how it is. I cannot even tell my own son exactly how it is done, and my own son cannot learn it from me. So here I am, seventy years old, still making wheels! The men of old took all they really knew with them to the grave. And so, Lord, what you are reading there is only the dirt they left behind them.”
Lokesh
What I got from this fine prose is, “If you want to be free from the books start living nearby the author.”
And it is true in a way, to fall in love with one real person is million times more alive than watching all the best love stories, including lovemaking stories and listening romantic songs.
As far as Lokesh is concerned, he will do his best to tease Osho, “Why you are not like J. Krishnamurti or Punja Ji?”
“You are reading only the dirt they left behind.” Then the Duke replied: “What do you know about it? You are only a wheelwright. You had better give me a good explanation or else you must die.”
The wheelwright said: “Let us look at the affair from my point of view. When I make wheels, if I go easy, they fall apart, if I am too rough, they do not fit. If I am neither too easy nor too violent – they come out right. The work is what I want it to be. You cannot put this into words: You just have to know how it is. I cannot even tell my own son exactly how it is done, and my own son cannot learn it from me. So here I am, seventy years old, still making wheels! The men of old took all they really knew with them to the grave. And so, Lord, what you are reading there is only the dirt they left behind them.” -
Yes, one just has to know how it is, then even the ones to whom the words matter shall eventually know that all words are futile!
“Is this the end of Sannyas Scripture & Canon Reading News throughout the Emperor’s lands, as we know it then?”‘ asked Wun Long Wang, the wheelwright Phien’s following-friend, “for without any more words what should we do?”, he cried loudly into his bowl of tofu-soup and nettles, which he usually enjoyed consuming heartily.
However, today was different as the prospect of not being able to use any alphabetti spaghetti ever again seemed a real googly, in a metaphor-mixing kind of way. The nettles were slightly poignant too, or so they began to seem.
“Do not worry”, replied Duke Parm of San, “For we can communicate more precisely without them, now that we understand each other. Your soup is safe too,” he added thoughtfully.
The crying got louder as the soup got colder for Phien’s friend.
It was almost veering on blubbing, although, as Wun Long was a novice monk, monks were not allowed to blub without watching and this blubbing was completely, totally watchful-less.
Wun Long Wang had had some insights over the years, especially in the early morning looking at frogs waiting by cold water ponds, but this wasn’t one of them. This was a steaming hot bowl of tofu, gone off the boil, not a pond, and now it too was getting cold. Very.
Just then the Abbot, Josu Loo-king, of I-Bizan prefecture, wandered up the almost empty mountain track, with the wind lifting the heavily-hemmed garment of his abbot’s robe, that was made of a curious, homespun pattern which resembled ancient mythical Chinese-Celtic tartan.
“Hello, Parm-San, what are you doing up here, then? Nippy, isn’t it? Seen any frogs? Ha,ha, just kidding, yae ken, San-Parm – er, Parm-San.” Both men bowed gracefully low, although as there was little room on the narrow path this meant they received a gentle forehead smacker, one apiece, common amongst the inhabitants of Gov-an from whence the abbot had walked, since the previous week.
“Equals, no returns,” the Duke wrily commented.
“A real Zen smacker on yer bonce, Dukey, I laykke it, I layyke yer style,” the Abbot smilingly replied.
“No good, no good, no good, blub, blub, blub.”
Josu noticed Wun Long Wang and his now cold bowl of soup spilling over his trembling hands onto the mountain track.
Have ye heard the latest, wael no’ be able tae uuse werds nae more, especially if ye’ve got somethang uhmportant tae sae – says so here in thae Emperor’s ‘Morning Sannyasin Pali Canon Bugleteer’,” he continued, “but dunnae fess yerselves, for I’ve got a wee ruse up mae sleeve, och-ae mae ol’ noodle eaters.”
“Ohhhh, whaaatt…blub…whaaat could you possibly do to refuse the (blubbing) the, the Emperor’s edict, I hate alphabetti spaghetti now and forever,” said Wun Long Wang.
On seeing this unbridled grief, the kindly Duke moved to console his trusty and faithful wheelwright’s friend, the novice monk, by offering him more hot soup and assuring him that from now on they could still talk, even about frogs and ponds and winter and far-off views, just as they always had.
“Aye, that’s right, me ol’ wheelwright son, san,” chipped in the Abbott, Jos-Look-ing, “but this time ye’ll have tae use semaphore and whistling.”
At this point, the blubbing stopped all of a sudden, with both the Duke and the ancient wheelwright shocked, stood-still on the wind-blown escarpment high up above the Ning Nong Nang river.
“No, he’s definitely lost it this time,” the Duke thought to himself, but aloud, also, to which the old wheelwright’s Phien’s friend furiously nodded affirmatively.
At which point Phien introduced himself.
“My dear Abbot, I am a wheelwright. My name is Phien. This is my friend.”
“Aye, how doos?” replied the Abbot.
“Look, in the trade of wheelwrighting we have to put things in their proper place, otherwise…”
“It’d be a wheelwrong, it would, aye”, the Abbot interjected, which even the Duke found quite funny.
Phien continued, “You see my friend here was just on the verge of an insight, which we’ve spent all morning clambering up the windswept mountain path to attain, and you’ve come in and with your talk of semaphore and whistling I might say that you have, in old wheelwright and hammering terms…”
The abbot interjected again, “Dropped a Clanger,” adding, “Oh, deary dear.”
The Duke, who by now had placed his arm over Wun Long’s shoulder so as to steady both himself and the novice monk, was laughing so infectiously that the novice monk’s mood changed in an instant…the laughter began to spread laterally along the precipitous mountain’s edge until all the now-gathered party shared in the precious news.
“Semaphore…haaaaa hahaa haaaaaaa!”
“Clangers…aaiiiiihaahaaa!”
“Woooo wheeeee whooooo!” as each one pursed his lips as if to whistle back the answer to the rest. Delicious moments arose and were pursued and replaced by even longer moments, until the very notion of notional separation became itself ridiculous, laughable and mirth-filled.
Just then the frog jumped into the pond, below them, amongst the solitary remaining, tree-strewn patch of precipitous mountain.
“Clanggggg!”, they all chimed in unison.
“Clangg whhoooo clang whheeeeee!”
You might say they were now ‘over the moon’ with the news.
(* For more on Zen Clanging, please Google ‘The Clangers’ in you-tube).
One of the best examples of humorous creative writing I have read on SN in some time. Bravo, Martyn.
Agreed McLoke! PM is frightfully funny! He goes to the very heart of the matter and has no mercy! I am sure I have missed much because of my lack of English, but for what I understood is brilliant! XX
Marty, after reading this piece I feel like saying, “You are the man!”
Beloved Lokesh, Kavita, Tan and other camp (and not so camp) followers of the Mistake-East Caravanserai…
I don’t suppose there’s a chance you might all enjoy some mild devotion to me. I won’t charge.
Saturday nights are best, if that suits?
Blessings.
Martyn (c/o End of The Pier Amusement Arcade Theatre)
“Osho loved Chuang Tzu…”
Lokesh, can you share one or two incidents from the life of Osho where impact of Chuang Tzu is manifested?
Well, apart from naming buildings in his ashram and commune after the great Taoist master, I would say Osho was a man of Tao. Although he spoke a lot his emphasis was always on the space between his words. In other words, silence.
Chuang Tzu was a master also of the concise. I think the following saying of his captures that very well. I also hope it answers your question. Plus, we stay on topic.
“The purpose of words is to convey ideas. When the ideas are grasped, the words are forgotten. Where can I find a man who has forgotten the words? He is the one I would like to talk to.”
“Where can I find a man who has forgotten the words? He is the one I would like to talk to.”
With this kind of thought in background, Satsang movement is trying to get roots in the West.
Sit in the presence of Mr. or Mrs. Rishikesh returned and talk to his/her serene silence.
That`s right, Shantam. Books are out, silence is in.
When I showed Guru Buntar my large volume of ‘The Book of the Secrets’ and asked him, “Swami, are such spiritual books any use?”, he grabbed the book from my hands, lifted it up and shouted “Hagadagada!”, slamming the heavy volume hard down onto my head.
There were few stars and then…
It was instant no-mind.
In the previous thread we had Mini declare the following:
In the past 7 years Rajneeh has also set up websites with free download Osho books, audios. He gives all Osho videos free, they only need to bring a 3 terra bite hard drive and 3000 videos are given free to distribute.”
No doubt Rajneesh sees himself as a spiritual Robin Hood, giving for free what is in fact copyrighted material and perhaps declaring that this is what Osho would have wished. Truth is, like many Indian gurus, Osho saw it as being perfectly acceptable to make a financial profit from what he was doing.
Osho was in agreement with Gurdjieff in that he believed that people do not appreciate things fully unless they pay for them. Rajneesh is giving away for free something he did not create himself. I think it is okay but I am not sure that Osho would have because he made money for his organization by selling his work.
When Osho noticed people putting flowers on the bonnet of his Rolls Royce during drive-bys in Oregon, he immediately gave instructions to open a flower shop. Why, now that Osho is dead, does Rajneesh do something with Osho’s books and videos that Osho never did while alive? Does he have the right to do this? The answers to these questions are debatable.
One thing I observe about Rajneesh and his people is that they are not very open to dialogue. It is all broadcasting, bringing attention to their latest project. I can understand that. The Mexican community sounds beautiful and I wish them the best of luck. To me, it is old hat and not very interesting, because I have already done that sort of thing and am in a different stage of my life now with no need for communal living etc.
What I find suspicious is their self-righteousness. Seeing as how this thread began with a story about books I will mention an old favourite, ‘The Wisdom of Insecurity’ by Alan Watts, a great title. I see no such wisdom existing in Rajneesh and his people, but I did with Osho.
After reading Lokesh’s post it made me think & wonder if Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Krishna, Rama etc. had gone to Jabalpur University then they would not have given their invisible copyrights to various authors & there could be no chance for this Osho’s copyrights case to come up!
And the empire won´t strike back to the empire of Robin hood?
Do we need always a Nostradamus to see what is possible to see through common sense?
I think what we will see (in our present bodies, or perhaps others) and as long as the planet survives in a similar fashion, with humans living on its surface) is multiple variations and lineages expanding from Osho, and a myriad of different interpretations, like different colours shining through a prism.
A bit like one of those Indian god pictures, with thousands of different heads, features and characteristics.
There may be different groups, different sects. There will be the Osho bhaktis, the Osho zennists, and even those who like to wear similar hats, costumes and watches as Osho. Of course, Osho will not interfere. He is now one with the Godhead. Similar to what happened after Buddha`s death, with the different offshoots of Tao and Zen.
And the Hindus will absorb Osho, and someone will probably try to declare that Osho was actually an incarnation of Vishnu, an Avatar who had just come down out of compassion, to help those to grow spiritually who were too attached to nice foods and sex, and could not live in the purest possible way. (Actually, the Vaishnava sect, when it absorbed Buddha into its fold, decided that Buddha had incarnated just to help those atheist souls to grow spiritually, but who found it difficult to worship a God).
Of course, Osho will not interfere at all, now that he is fully reunited with the `Godhead`.
His energy will be available to anyone with a heart that is open, and these people will be able to do anything they like in his name. Doesn`t this always happen with religions after the master leaves the body?
December 11th will be a national holiday, a little like Christmas (but with a bit more emphasis on witnessing) and there will be little cartoon books for kids, with tales from Osho`s life, ‘Osho Goes Camping’ and ‘Osho` Adventures In The Desert’.
“I think what we will see(in our present bodies, or perhaps others), and as long as the planet survives in a similar fashion ,with humans living on its surface) is multiple variations and lineages expanding from Osho, and a myriad of different interpretations, like different colours shining through a prism.”
Plurality.
Given Osho’s emphasis on individuality, bound to be so.
Osho ?
Good post.
Ok, so I have replied to Lokesh in previous topic.
Talking about my comment in previous topic, so I reply in same place.
Where have the Mexican bullies disappeared to? A red rag and not a snort from los toros, just the faithful devotees of the great god SN who, as we all know, are completely surrendered to Existence.
They are still asleep, don’t you get it?! I mean, it’s early morning in Mexico! Anyway, it’s bedtime for me!
Rust never sleeps.
Yes, you’re right about that!
Lokesh, why don´t you create your own commune? I think you rate your wisdom in high notes, you are living on one of the best parts of the world.
You just need to make one small change: don´t shave for next one year! Beard is the USP of O Trade.
Truth is, Shantam, I could not be bothered keeping up the pretext of being enlightened. That is the rub, the greatest victim of someone claiming to be enlightened, when they are not, is the very person making the claim. The strain and responsibility of keeping up such a pretext can kill you. I still have a bit of living to do, places to go and people to meet. I like the role of cosmic nobody. The way of the tartan cloud.
Let me say only from my research, Japanese porn has more Zen into it than Indian porn has Tantra!
Still, I don´t find much attraction in Zen. It is simply too foreigner.
Where was this research taking place? Let me guess: Round the back of Lidl’s.
“Truth is, Shantam, I could not be bothered keeping up the pretext of being enlightened. That is the rub, the greatest victim of someone claiming to be enlightened, when they are not, is the very person making the claim.”
I think this needs a lengthy brainstorming, whether someone is really enlightened or pretending to be. Are there some parameters? When we believe someone is enlightened, the person becomes enlightened?
In any case, CCTV cameras of Cosmic eyes are the final judges.
Well, Shantam, the pretenders reap what they sow. No need for you to be concerned because you are not pretending to be enlightened.
Pretending to be enlightened creates massive stress in the human body. Our cells do not like that kind of stress, because it damages them. The eventual breakdown that results from this kind of stress can take myriad forms, from heart attack, stroke, neurological illness etc, in fact just like the stress-created illness that kills millions every year in our modern-day, stress-filled society.
The pretenders know what their own game is, although perhaps not the completely delusional in their ranks. In the middle of the night, when they are curled up tight, it will come to them.
Yes, Lokesh, you are right! And there is nothing better in the world than to have a peaceful and happy sleep, it’s heavenly!
Only stupid fools bother about enlightenment! If I am not mistaken, you said it yourself and I couldn’t agree more! X
GRAPES ARE SOUR.
Have a beautiful ´New Years Eve´, Everybody!
And special thanks to Lokesh to come up the the ´Wheelrighters´ Parable and cooling down some upheavals – the latter brought some sanity, which I very much enjoy.
I was reminded of similar stuff, a parable about a Zen Master of Archery in ancient times and some monks of His monastery looking for a successor, which failed for quite a while and had to go a ´natural’ way, so to say.
It’s a story about modesty, and real and not enforced empowerment.
Wish you well, all of you!
Madhu
Happy New Year, to Madhu and all the regulars here on SN.
To be honest, I am quite glad to say adios to 2015. It was a tough year for me. Not complaining, just saying.
So, bring on 2016. Rock ‘n’ Roll!
Madhu & all of us here, Happy New Year!
& to my invisible Master, this song…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3vCB3YBMUo
Thanks, Kavita. Can you believe that listening to any love song, it reminds me of Osho, till a bird’s song! It is how things are…
Happy New Year to you and to everybody in SN.
Thank you too, Tan.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyiJW5GqaAY
Thanks, Arps, what a treat! Celtic punk! Love it! Shane McGowan…love him! X