It is in this discourse that Osho refers for the first time to the Japanese word ‘Osho’…
…ahead of the big name-change from Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh to Osho, during December 1988 to February 1989.
One day a monk came along, and, not knowing he was speaking to the master, asked Bokushu the way to the master’s room.
Bokushu took off his sandal and hit the monk on the head with it – the monk ran off.
Then Bokushu called to him, “Osho!” and the monk turned his head.
“That’s the way to it,” Bokushu said, pointing with his finger.
What has happened in this incident? Unless you lose your head, you cannot find your heart. Hitting the head of the monk with his sandal is simply a way of saying, “Please stop thinking.” Except for thought, nothing is a barrier to truth. But the monk became afraid, “This seems to be a madman. I am asking the way to the master’s room and he hits me. It is better to run away from here. He may do something even more nasty.” So he ran away.
Bokushu called him back, “Osho!”
‘Osho’ is a very respectful word. It is a way of calling someone almost divine. It is in essence so respectful that only a disciple calls a master ‘Osho’.
Bokushu called after him,“Osho!” indicating: “Don’t be afraid and don’t escape. It is against your dignity. You are to me as worthy of respect as Buddha himself.” And saying,“Osho!” he said, pointing to his own room, “That’s the way to it.”
This kind of incident is impossible in this world today unless you are humble enough. If the master hits with his sandal on your head, you will start fighting with him. You will not think that he is a man worthy of respect. He will seem to be insane – you are simply asking the way and he hits you.
But once a different world existed. Bokushu did both things: first he hit him on the head with his sandal, and then he called him, “Osho!” – You are also a master; who you are looking for? If you are looking for the master, this is the way. Drop your head outside; be humble, innocent. In your silence, without thought, you may find the master. […]
Now, Nivedano … give the first beat.
Close your eyes.
No movement of the body.
Just become frozen
so that you can enter into yourself.
This silence, Osho,
this silence, the buddha.
Deeper, deeper, deeper.
The deeper you go, the more oceanic
becomes the experience.
The dewdrop slips from the lotus leaf
and disappears in the ocean.
This is our eternal reality.
This is our divineness.
There is no other God than this experience.
There is no other prayer
than this tremendous silence,
this peace, this ecstasy.
To make it deeper, Osho, Nivedano …
Relax, just as if you have died.
The body may go on breathing, but you remain in.
Pull yourself as much as possible inwards.
The more you are in,
the more the buddha is awake.
At the very center of your being,
you are the ultimate experience
of being a buddha.
Drink it, let it sink into every fiber and cell
of your body, your mind.
Carry it twenty-four hours within you —
just like a silent flame,
showing you the path, reminding you
that you are the goal, not the way;
the God, not the devotee;
the sought, not the seeker.
You can all come back,
and for a few seconds, just sit like buddhas
in your grandeur,
in your grace.
Blissful is the night
with so many buddhas,
breathing together to the same song,
listening together to the same music,
feeling together the very heartbeat
of the universe.
Except this, there is no religiousness.
And this religiousness
is neither Christian,
nor Hindu, nor Mohammedan.
It is freedom from all boundaries,
it knows no limits.
Be unlimited, be the ocean.
Can we celebrate the gathering of so many buddhas?
Osho, Zen: The Diamond Thunderbolt, Ch 3 (excerpts)