“Whatsoever you think about yourself, starts happening. You create your world by your thought, you create your world by your desire,” states Osho.
I was reading the other night a beautiful Japanese story. Such stories exist in all the folk tales of the world, on similar patterns. It is a beautiful story. Listen to it.
There was once a man who hewed stones from the rock. His labour was very hard and he laboured much, but his wages were slight and he was not content.
Who is content? Not even emperors are content, so what to say about a stonecutter? His work was certainly hard and the payoff was almost nothing.
He sighed because his labour was hard, and he cried, ‘Oh, I wish I was rich so I could rest on a couch with a cover of silk.’ And an angel came from heaven, saying, ‘You are what you have said.’
And this really happens – not only in parables and stories; it happens in real life. Whatsoever you think about yourself, starts happening. You create your world by your thought, you create your world by your desire. Whatsoever you insist on, starts happening. Reality goes on cooperating with you. It waits for the moment, for the day, when you will cooperate with it. Until then, it goes on cooperating with you.
And the angel said, ‘You are what you have said.’ And he was rich, and he did rest on a couch, and the cover was of silk, and the king of the land went by with horsemen in front of his carriage and behind the carriage there were also horsemen, and a golden parasol was held over the head of the king.
And when the rich man saw this, he was vexed that no golden parasol was held over his own head and he was not content. He sighed and cried, ‘I wish to be a king.’
And the angel came again and he said, ‘You are what you have said.’
And he was king and many horsemen rode in front of his carriage, and there were also horsemen behind his carriage and a golden parasol was held over his head, and the sun shone hot rays and scorched the earth so that the grass shoots withered. And the king complained that the sun burned his face and that it excelled him in power and he was not content. He sighed and cried, ‘I wish to be the sun.’ And the angel came and he said, ‘You are what you have said.’
And he was the sun and he directed his rays upward and down, to the right and to the left – everywhere – and he scorched the grass shoots on earth, and the countenances of kings who were on earth.
And a cloud placed itself between him and the earth, and the rays of the sun bounced back from it and he grew wrathful that his power was resisted. He complained that the cloud excelled him in power and he was not content. He wished to be the cloud, which was so powerful, and the angel came and he said, ‘You are what you have said.’
And he became a cloud and placed himself between the sun and the earth and caught the rays so that the grass grew green. The cloud rained large drops on the earth causing the rivers to swell and floods to carry the houses away, and he destroyed the fields with much water. He fell upon a rock which did not yield, and he splashed in great streams, but the rock did not yield, and he grew wrathful because the rock was not yielding to his power, and the power of his streams was in vain and he was not content.
He cried, ‘That rock has been given power which excels mine. I wish to be the rock.’ And the angel came and he was the rock, he did become the rock, and did not move when the sun shone nor when it rained.
And then there was a man with a pick and with a chisel and with a heavy hammer, and he hewed stones out of the rock and the rock said, ‘How can it be that this man has power that excells mine and hews stones out of my lap?’ and he was not content.
He cried, ‘I am weaker than he. I wish to be that man.’ And the angel came from heaven, saying, ‘You are what you have said.’
And he was a stonecutter again. And he hewed stones from the rock with hard labour, and he laboured very hard for small wages – and he was content.
I don’t agree with the conclusion. That is the only disagreement with the story; otherwise the story is beautiful. I don’t agree with the conclusion. Because I know people – they cannot be so easily content. The wheel is complete. The story in a way has come to a natural end, but the real stories in life don’t come to any natural end. The wheel again starts moving.
That’s why in India we call life ‘the wheel’. It goes on moving, goes on repeating itself. As far as I can see, unless the stonecutter became a Buddha, the story must have been repeated again. Again he will become discontent. Again he will long for a beautiful couch and a cover of silk, and again the same thing will start. But if this stonecutter was really content, then he has jumped out of the wheel of life and death. He has become a Buddha.
Osho, The Discipline of Transcendence – Discourses on the forty-two sutras of Buddha, Vol 2, Ch 2, Q 1 (excerpt)