Life as a quest: being a disciple of Osho

It truly is very strange. Without any role model, without even the faintest idea of what it really was that I had been seeking since early childhood: where to look, and above all – how? – I was, from the very beginning, a seeker, without understanding that this was something rooted in my soul.

My father left us when I was four, my sister moved out when I was seven, and my mother fell seriously ill when I was nine (she nearly choked at every meal). While she was kept alive on life support in intensive care for twelve months, I lived with three different families.

Early on, life spoke clearly and unmistakably: You are standing on shifting ground – change and death are the actual facts of what other people call life. Death is right here where life is. Pay attention!

In search of an answer to this situation, as I grew older I devoured hundreds of books. I combed through almost the whole of European literature, often reading late into the night.

Yes, disturbed in my behaviour I was, for desperation, depression, loneliness, and a certain determination drove me to avoid people and to read instead, in the hope of finding an answer that could sustain me.

I felt like Jacob, in his despair, wrestling with God and crying out in the darkness of the night: I will not let you go unless you bless me…

Restlessly, I went on to study philosophy, theology, and comparative religion sciences at three different universities, usually working until midnight. I might be the only person who has ever studied theology whilst being an atheist. I ransacked the entire intellectual history of the West – atheism, mysticism, existentialism, Church history, the Enlightenment, and so on.

From Aristotle, Plato, Descartes, Kant, and Pascal to Camus – I devoured everything intellectually. Nietzsche triggered waves of euphoria in my soul: Thus Spoke Zarathustra! That’s it! Joy in life itself, liberated from all chains! (Osho gave two discourse series on this book.) But still, that innermost thirst was not quenched. Thirst for what, though?

One day I was standing in the university library, when I literally heard a voice: What do you really know? Looking upwards, the spontaneous and crystal-clear answer came: Nothing.

I discontinued my studies instantly. The path of thinking had been closed.

As I had very good results in my A-levels, I was able to start studying medicine, and to later work as a specialist in anaesthesia. Here again, death was a constant companion – in the operating theatre, in intensive care, in ambulances and air rescue missions, in repatriation services and in Afghanistan, operating together with the team of the international humanitarian organization Interplast.

Yet my hunger still gnawed within. For what?

Through a chain of ‘coincidences’ (which every one of us sannyasins knows well!), the answer was finally given to me.

On 1 July 1984, dressed all in red, and without the slightest clue or understanding of what was happening, I stood in line with other sannyasins along a road in Oregon. It was the Third Annual World Celebration – and Osho was going to show up. During the so-called drive-by.

As I had no concept of what this whole thing was about, I also didn’t expected anything.

Then Osho arrived. I had the chance to look into his eyes. In the fraction of a ‘no-second’, I was shaken to my core, so completely rattled that there are no words to describe it. It’s simply impossible to express in words.

There was no one. An absolute nothingness inside him. At the same time, I experienced an explosion of ecstasy which was beyond comprehension. He showed me his state: an endless explosion into the void. Formless, infinite, incomprehensible. I was bathed in unconditional love – equally formless, infinite, incomprehensible. For a moment, I was deafened to the world by the immeasurable silence that surrounded him.

From that moment on I have been flooded by this presence and been accompanied by it – day and night. Since 2:25 pm on that 1st July 1984 I have been his disciple. Though the formal initiation came later, this was the turning point in my restless search. The echo of that experience still reverberates eternally in the space of my soul – indelible and ever-present. I feel it like a current flowing through my cells.

Even now, I often begin a meditation with the gachchhamis, and this experience – Osho – becomes immediately present, transforming the energy in the room, wherever I may be in the world. The gachchhamis are truly ‘the invocation of the Guru’, and a great aid in our meditation.

But an answer shown is by no means a realised one… This experience has intensified my search – but has also redirected it.

What followed – as it was for most of us – were many years of therapy: Primal, Encounter, Tantra, Esoteric Sciences, Anti-Fischer-Hoffmann Process, Path of Love, programmes at the Humaniversity, and a two-year training in Clinical Hypnosis according to Erickson. Later on I worked with many traumatised people in my own practice in Rosenheim, Germany, and witnessed real miracles, pure magic – transformations of patients and, simultaneously, of myself too.

Then, during an eight-month stay in Pune – Osho had already left his body – I received a second hint. I contracted meningitis – but survived. This time, the voice asked: What is all this for? Where is this madness going to lead you? The insight came just as clearly as it had that day in the library: Nowhere. This can go on endlessly, ad infinitum. Like a hamster, restlessly running in its wheel, whilst calling out enthusiastically: I’m making progress, I’m making progress…

Therapy certainly made my life feel lighter, but for me it was not the path to liberation. The path of therapy had been closed. What now?

The many years that followed were full of disorientation. Without my daily Kundalini Meditation I would never have endured the time in the clinic and practice – the stress, the fear for patients in critical situations, the power struggles, the humiliation games between partners in the practice. Kundalini helped me survive the terror of all the suffering I witnessed in my profession. Although this form of meditation practice helps reduce stress – in my experience it does not ripen to the depth where we can touch no-mind. And that – and only that – is the real point.

Again there was this burning question: What now? Helplessness and desperation can open wide gateways towards grace, I have learned.

It happened that Sindhu (my great sannyas love) had come with me to Rishikesh. We were without fixed plans there, but suddenly we had to leave our hotel. Now where to go? At that very moment – as we were leaving – by the pool we saw a friend from Munich. He only said: I’ve just come from Tapoban in Nepal. You have to go there.

Following our inner voice, we let our flights to Mumbai slip and flew to Kathmandu. And from there, we went to Tapoban. And here I want to briefly share what the ashram’s founder, Swami Arun, teaches. Not just what he taught me, but everyone who goes there.

I will never forget the moment I saw Arun for the first time. I didn’t perceive the man – I first saw the aura, a great cloud of love emanating from him. It filled the entire corridor as he walked towards us. Only then the man appeared behind it.

This was the third hint I received. It immediately gave my life a new direction.

Arun’s entire life is one of devotion, love, and trust in the eternal, omnipresent presence of the Master. He is a true devotee, with his every breath. He opens every session with the words, “Feel the Master’s presence in your heart.” And at the end of each session, he bows deeply, moved and full of gratitude, before Osho’s image or his statue, and is then barely able to pull himself away. To witness such a person is the deepest possible teaching. It must inevitably lead to a place where all the walls around our soul and heart crumble.

Arun has built this vast campus without a single penny in his pocket. He says, “Without trust you cannot move a single inch. With trust you can fly to the ultimate – into limitlessness.”

His clearest message is to stay deeply connected with the indelible presence of the Master.

My own efforts towards awakening – towards liberation – cannot take me beyond myself. The end of striving, of yearning, of seeking can only happen through deep love and devotion – through the indestructible connection with the Master, the Buddha. The Buddha, in the truest sense, is the end of all seeking – and with that, the end of the seeker. For in our unfulfilled state, we are nothing but a seeking.

Quotes by Osho that have inspired me

To conclude, here a few quotes that have served me as inspiration. Each one of us is called to live that inspiration in our own unique way.

Before becoming invisible to our eyes Osho asked us: “Never speak of me in the past tense.” ¹

After Osho’s death, for many years I believed that my discipleship – the potent presence of the Master – had come to an end. I was deeply mistaken. Arun’s entire life is proof that the bridge to Osho’s guidance is trust, love, and meditation. This bridge is bound neither by space nor time. It’s a fact – incredible and true.

The quote: “In your silent moments you will suddenly feel my presence.” ²

There are famous lamas who still receive instructions from Buddha today. In memory of countless moments in my dramatic, joy-filled, and painful life, I can only confirm Osho’s words. I experienced so many ‘coincidences’ and true miracles – innumerable – that confirm this fact.

When I meditate in this sense, I first perceive the energy in the room. When I consciously connect with Osho, the energy changes instantly. And a ripple of pure joy flows through my cells.

The East knows about the eternal, timeless presence of the awakened ones. Every path of devotion is based on the ‘invocation of the Guru’. And thus, with an image of Osho, I can experience the Tratak meditation.

Another quote: “Whenever you are relaxed you will feel my presence.” ³

These ‘reminders’ help me a lot to open to a reality beyond any physical perception – a reality I had not known before becoming a disciple. They help me trust the invisible – every day. The invisible plane of reality is, after all, the threshold at which ‘spirituality’ begins. Whatever that strange word might mean – each one of us must explore it by themselves.

Many of us were blessed enough to experience Osho in his body. After his passing, for many years I felt completely lost. Today, I finally understand: I did not become a disciple of a body – but of an immortal consciousness, which I address as ‘Osho’. If I had bound myself to the past, to his physical presence, then all discipleship would have ended with the Master’s death. There wouldn’t be any living current of consciousness. The reason why I quote my Master here, is because his words fill, shape, and inspire my everyday life, my meditations, my being:

“Space and time, both can disappear. Yes, it is possible you can feel my presence – in fact I am surrounding each of my sannyasins. You may feel it, you may not feel it. In a certain moment of attunement you will feel it. Then it doesn’t matter whether you are in England or in Japan – it does not matter: space, distance, make no difference.” ⁴

Contrary to custom, since I met Arun, I have been wearing my mala, and feel deeply protected by it, especially in a crowd. You can try it: walk down the street, once without, and once with the mala! A big surprise is guaranteed. The mala works for me like an internet link. It connects me to Osho.

About the mala Osho says, “The mala keeps you connected with me. You can be thousands of miles away and yet you are as close as one can be… Any time you hold the mala in your hand you will find me close to you. It is a subtle bridge, invisible… Slowly slowly, passing through many experiences, you will become aware of it: that it keeps you connected with me, that you can be thousands of miles away and yet you are as close as one can be.” ⁵

The mala also helps me see clearly where I am inwardly. It is a mirror, a tool of protection, and a link to the Buddha – one I desperately need. Because I am a very forgetful person.

I share this to clarify that each one of us has to live and fulfil our discipleship individually – alone, yet never while being cut off from the Source. When I inwardly attune in this way, I experience a joy that rushes through me. I often think: each of us is seeking joy. Everyone. And joy is somehow the one thing that we cannot create or produce. It is always a gift – given through the gates of trust, love, and surrender.

In this spirit I live – and in this spirit, I will also die.

Translated from German by Osho News

Sources

1. Message given to Anando, 18 November 1989
2. Beyond Enlightenment, Ch 11, Q1, 13 October 1986
3. A Cup of Tea, Letter 303
4. The Fish in the Sea is Not Thirsty, Ch 5, Q2, 25 April 1979
5. The Rainbow Bridge, Ch 16, 17 July 1979

Related article

• Transformative stays at Osho Tapoban – Samadhi writes from Nepal; “At Osho Tapoban I experience the confluence of the paths of devotion and meditation.”