Osho, If I can truly experience the music of the flute player, can that be on the same level as the experience you wish to occur with you?
I am thinking of the Sufis: I see, but I do not see. I am behind a glass wall.
The object is irrelevant. Only the subjectivity is relevant. Whether listening to me, or listening to a flute player, or listening to the birds in the morning, or sitting by the side of the waterfall and listening to it, the same experience can happen. It happens not from what you listen to, it happens because you listen. Just listening gives you total silence; in deep listening you disappear. The whole art is how to listen.
Once you know how to listen, in deep receptivity, sensitivity, you are not there. The listener is not there, only listening. And when the listener is not there, there is no ego: there is no one who listens, only listening. And then it penetrates to the very core of your being.
If you listen to me with mind, you will miss. If you listen to the waterfall without mind, you will get. It is not a question of listening to me; it is a question somewhere concerned with you, with the listener. What I am saying is irrelevant; who is saying it is irrelevant. The whole thing is: are you surrounded by a deep silence? Have you become non-existent in that moment? Do you find suddenly that you are not, that you are a deep emptiness, throbbing with life, full, but empty, a tremendous silence, with not a single ripple of thought? Only then do you attain to a plane where truth can penetrate you.
So try to be a listener. Just hearing is not enough. Hear, you can; listening will need great discipline. It is the greatest discipline there is. If you listen, you are already delivered; because in that listening, suddenly you find yourself.
This looks like a paradox. You disappear, I say, and in that disappearance you find yourself. You are empty, and in that emptiness arises a fullness, a fulfilment. No thought is there. And then there is understanding. And love flows, like breathing – it goes in, it goes out, it goes in, it goes out. Then you start sharing your being with the existence that surrounds you. Then the part is no more part and separate – it throbs with the whole. You fall in line with the whole, you are no more out of step. A harmony has arisen – the celestial music, the music of the stars.
Then suddenly you are open. From every dimension God flows into you. But the whole thing is how to be so receptive and silent. Just now it can happen, just now it is happening to many. I am not here; you are not there: and suddenly the meeting, suddenly the being.
What can you do? Because all doing will be a disturbance. Whatsoever you do will bring you in from the back door; whatsoever you do will be an effort and a disturbance. Don’t do anything; just be.
The whole art of religion is nothing but this – just be, allow, be in a let-go; sitting by the side of the tree, just sit – nothing else is needed, just sitting. Buddha attained to truth just by sitting under the Bodhi Tree. Walking, just walk. Loving, just love. Being, just be. By and by you start feeling that within you the fragments are disappearing, and an integration is arising. By and by it happens; by and by you start feeling that something is penetrating you from the unknown, from the beyond. You feel happy. You feel like a pregnant woman: the unknown has entered you. You don’t know who has come to your womb, you have not seen the face yet, but you can feel the weight, you can feel the unknown kicking in your womb. You know the unknown has penetrated you.
Osho, Come Follow To You Vol 3, Ch 10, Q 2