Answering a question about a connection between Buddha and him because both of them having been poisoned, Osho states: “The poisoning has been a great purification for me. This purification makes me receptive to the wandering soul of Gautam Buddha.”
Maneesha has asked:
Gautama the Buddha died by poisoning. You have survived in spite of being poisoned. Is there any connection between the two? Is there a particular significance in the timing of your declaration that Gautama Buddha is living on in you?
Maneesha, it is true; Gautam Buddha died of poisoning. The fact is, he was too old, eighty-two years old, and tired. Forty-two years just walking from village to village… He could not fight back against the poison. But his work was incomplete.
In fact, the work of a buddha is always going to be incomplete. It is an intrinsic part of spreading the fire of awakening. You cannot conceive that the whole world will become awakened, but people like Gautam the Buddha are the dreamers of the impossible. They hope against hope. He had to leave because his body was tired and old and could not survive the poisoning. But he left with a dream that he may find somewhere someone to carry on his dream of growing more lotuses in the world. These twenty-five centuries he has been wandering like a white cloud, searching.
It is my great destiny that he has chosen me to be his host. I will do – in fact I have been doing already – the same kind of work of spreading awakening. Hence it is not a problem to me. An ancient buddha residing inside will certainly strengthen my work.
You are asking about poisoning, “Is there any connection?”
Certainly, seeing that I have overcome the poisoning, which was far more dangerous than the poisoning that Buddha suffered. The poisoning has been a great purification for me. This purification makes me receptive to the wandering soul of Gautam Buddha.
He is not a weight. He is rather more like wings. He is not the man to dictate anything – the pure agnostic, the greatest individualist, the utter rebel. I have been, without knowing, preparing a home, a shelter, for a wandering Buddha. It is my fortune that he has accepted me to be his home for a few days at least.
You are also fortunate to be the assembly of two Buddhas, a bridge stretched between twenty-five centuries, so rich that if you miss, nobody except yourself will be responsible for it.
It is time for Sardar Gurudayal Singh. Gautam the Buddha may not be aware… because I don’t find in his scriptures any sense of humor. But now in this assembly even a dead man will start laughing.
Polanski, the Polack, applies for a job at the Poona Travel Agency. He tells them that he worked three years for Polish Airways. The personnel director calls Polish Airways to see what kind of an employee Polanski was.
His previous boss says:
“He is a meathead, a cheat, a dumb bunny, a busybody, a loafer, a birdbrain, a sneak, a numbskull, a loudmouth, a fruitcake, a dodo, a chiseler, a bigot, a wino, a lamebrain, a dunce, a boob, a bananahead, an ass, a screwball, a dumbdumb, a nincompoop, a goofball, a dimwit, a pig, a hockey puck, a klutz, a dumkopf, a fuddy-duddy, a ding-a-ling, a lush, a weirdo, a dunderhead, a moron, a bungler, a mental midget, a turkey, a bloodsucker, a bully, a muttonhead, a slavedriver, a vulture, an imbecile, a tightwad, a dingbat, a braggart, an animal, a puttyhead, a bitcher, a clown and an idiot! Still, I recommend him for the job.”
“Why on earth would you recommend him?” asks the personnel director.
“Because,” the previous boss says, “he was our best employee!”
Hymie Goldberg is lying on the psychiatrist’s couch.
“So what seems to be the problem?” the shrink asks.
“Well, Doc,” Hymie replies. “For the past two months, every morning at eight-thirty, I take a huge shit!”
“Really?” says the psychiatrist, after a moment’s silence. “Why, millions of people would love to be that regular. So, what is the problem?”
“Well, Doc,” Hymie replies, “I don’t get out of bed until nine!”
Marco is a newcomer to the country. Although he does not know the language well, he manages to meet Janet and dates her for several weeks. Then, Janet invites Marco to her house for dinner. When he arrives Janet excuses herself and goes off to the kitchen to help her mother. Marco gathers up all his courage and says: “Sir, I wanna ask for your daughter’s gland.”
“What?” cries the father. “You mean you want my daughter’s hand?”
“No,” says Marco. “I’m fed up with hand jobs. Now I want the gland!”
The quiz show moderator says to the contestant, “Okay, Mr. Clump, and now, for the one hundred thousand dollar question, what is the difference between Ronald Reagan and a bucket of shit?”
Clump thinks for a second, then smiles knowingly and declares, “The bucket!”
Be silent. Close your eyes. Feel your body to be completely frozen.
Now look inwards with your total consciousness, and with an urgency as if this moment is going to be the last in your life.
The center of your being is not far away. As you come closer, a strange coolness, a silence starts becoming deeper. A light that has no source, a blissfulness… thousands of flowers start raining on you.
This moment, you are the buddha.
This is your ultimate reality. The only character to be remembered is witnessing. The buddha consists only of witnessing.
To make it clear,
Relax, and just be a witness. You are not the body, you are not the mind. You are just a pure witness standing by the side. This witnessing is the very soul of a buddha.
The night was beautiful in itself, but ten thousand buddhas melting into an oceanic consciousness has made the night a splendor, a miracle.
Just remember one thing: when Nivedano calls you back, gather as much light, as much fragrance, as much existential juice as you can, and persuade the buddha to come along with you. Finally, he has to become your everyday action, gesture, word, silence – everything. The circumference of your life has to disappear, giving place to the center.
This is the greatest rebellion and the only living religiousness: to bring buddha into your ordinary life, simply, innocently.
Come back… with all the grace of a buddha, with all the beauty and the joy. Sit for a few minutes just to recollect the golden path that you traveled to reach to your center, and the encounter with the buddha, and the experience of just pure witnessing.
Slowly slowly, that which looks like a faraway peak of consciousness will become your simple, ordinary being. That will be the most historical moment for you.
Osho, No Mind: The Flowers of Eternity, Ch 2 (excerpt)