---
section: Library
booktitle: "The Rebellious Spirit"
booktype: "Discourses"
bookcode: "SPIRIT"
dategiven: "18 February 1987 am"
place: " in Chuang Tzu Auditorium"
chapternum: "Chapter #16"
chaptertitle: "The present is the only time you have"
acode: "8702180"
shorttitle: "SPIRIT16"
audio: "Yes"
video: "Yes"
esttime: "86mins"
displaytitle: "The Rebellious Spirit: Chapter #16"
---

```style
.sutra {
  font-style: italic;
  white-space: pre-wrap !important;
}
```
<!--This file is automatically generated. Do not edit!-->
<p class="question">BELOVED OSHO,
IS IT POSSIBLE TO DIE CONSCIOUSLY WITHOUT BEING ENLIGHTENED?</p>


Nirah, existence follows certain laws -- and there are no exceptions. If one wants to die consciously, the only way is to be enlightened.


Death is such a great surgery: your soul is being taken apart from the body and mind, with which it has been involved for seventy or eighty years. Even for a small operation you need anesthesia; and this is the greatest operation in existence.


Unconsciousness is nothing but nature's way of giving you anesthesia. Unless you are completely unidentified with body and mind, you cannot die consciously -- and a death which is not conscious is a great opportunity missed.
Enlightenment is an absolute necessity.


Enlightenment only means that your whole being is conscious: there are no dark corners left inside you. Dying in such consciousness the body, the mind, the brain can be taken away from you, because you know now -- not just as a theory, but as your authentic experience -- that you have always been separate. The involvement with the body was broken the day you became enlightened.


In the ancient scriptures of the Buddhists, enlightenment is called the "great death" -- not that you are going to die, but the death is great because you will be able to see it happening, you will be a witness. Now you are no longer attached to the body, no clinging, and you have become aware of your immortality.


You can die consciously only when you know that you are immortal, that you belong to eternity, not to time; that deep within you is the beginning of existence and the end of existence -- if there is any beginning or if there is any end. In fact there is no beginning and no end; you have always been here, and you will always be here.


A conscious death is one of the miracles of life, because after that you will not be born again in any form -- as a man, as a bird, as a tree. You will remain in the eternal consciousness of the universe, spread all over the ocean. Hence, it has been called the "great death."


But there are no exceptions. Existence follows absolutely definite laws, and this is a law of the highest order, because it concerns your consciousness, your life, your death.
<p class="question">BELOVED OSHO,
I SIT HERE FEELING THE STILLNESS OF THE UNIVERSE, LISTENING TO A BIRD'S SWEET SONG -- AND I WONDER. THEN I LISTEN AGAIN TO YOUR VISION FOR MANKIND NOW, AND I WONDER THAT PERHAPS I AM YOUR HANDS AND YOUR FEET -- THAT PERHAPS I SHOULD BE OUT THERE. I WONDER WHETHER THIS FRAIL BUD IS YET READY ENOUGH, THAT MAYBE IT NEEDS A LITTLE MORE SWEET DEW AND SUN FIRE....</p>


Jivan Mary, you are saying, "I sit here feeling the stillness of the universe, listening to a bird's sweet song -- and I wonder. Then I listen again to Your vision for mankind now, and I wonder that perhaps I am Your hands and Your feet." You are.
Every sannyasin is my hands, my eyes, my soul.


I am not giving you a teaching, I am giving you myself.


But that does not mean that you have to go somewhere else. To transform human consciousness you have just to go on rising higher and higher in your own consciousness -- you don't have to go anywhere.


You are saying, "Perhaps I should be out there." There is no "out there"; everything is "in here." Don't waste a single moment in unnecessary worry. To me, if you are saved, the whole of humanity is saved.


It is not a question of going out into the world and trying to raise people's consciousness -- it is more of a possibility that the crowd of sleepy people is too much, and you may start feeling sleepy yourself. Unless you are enlightened, it is dangerous to try to transform people. Right now, you are the whole world. Just be total in this silence, be intense in this ecstasy, and you are working for the whole of humanity -- because you are part of it. If you become enlightened, that is the beginning of humanity becoming enlightened.


There is a beautiful story about Mulla Nasruddin. He used to steal fruits and sweets in the market, if he got an opportunity. One fruit seller had a dog specially for Mulla Nasruddin. The dog was very intelligent. The shopkeeper told the dog, "I am going for my lunch; you have to take care of the shop. Sit here, and remember that man, Mulla Nasruddin. If he comes here, watch his every action." The poor dog nodded his head.


The man went to take his lunch at home, and that was the time... Mulla Nasruddin was waiting somewhere close by. He had heard what the dog was told; he sat in front of the shop, closed his eyes, and pretended to fall asleep. Seeing him asleep -- sleep is contagious -- the poor dog also closed his eyes and fell asleep. And then the Mulla took away whatever he wanted from the shop.


When the shopkeeper came back, he saw the dog asleep, and he saw that things were missing. He woke up the dog and said, "What is the matter with you? I told you to watch his every action."


Mulla Nasruddin by that time had put all the fruits in his house, and had come back to see what had transpired between the dog and the shopkeeper. He was standing just by the side of the shop.


The dog felt very miserable; tears came to his eyes. Mulla Nasruddin, out of compassion, came out and said to the shopkeeper, "This is too much. Your dog followed your instructions exactly. Sleep is also an activity -- and when I fell asleep, the poor dog could not resist the temptation to fall asleep. Don't be angry at him.


"And when I was asleep, he thought, 'Now he cannot steal' -- nobody has ever heard of sleeping people stealing fruits in the marketplace. But after all, he is a dog; he could not make a distinction between pretended and real sleep.


"Don't be angry at him. Next time you instruct him, tell him clearly, 'If somebody sleeps in front of the shop, that is the moment to remain very awake -- because if you fall asleep that man is going to steal.'"


And he said, "Don't you worry, I will find some other way to steal."


The time is not yet right and ripe for going into the world. One day, I myself will tell you to go into the world, when I see that now the mob psychology cannot affect you; that your awareness will remain the same; that your silence will remain the same; that your ecstasy may even grow deeper.


Jivan Mary, you are right in saying, "I wonder whether this frail bud is yet ready enough, that maybe it needs a little more sweet dew and sun fire...." It needs not "a little sun fire" -- it needs much; not "a little dew" -- it needs much.


But you are on the path, and to be on the path is almost half the pilgrimage.


The bud will soon become a flower, dancing in the wind and in the sun and in the rain. Then, whether you go or not, your fragrance will be reaching out there into the world -- and that fragrance will trigger more people.


My own experience is that when you try directly to make somebody more aware, he starts defending himself. Rather than becoming more aware, he becomes more closed. It is a kind of attack on his territory -- and it is an attack; you are destroying all his past, his lifestyle, his way of thinking. You are destroying his very mind -- although you are destroying it to bring his reality to the surface. Your destruction is not for destruction's sake; it is in the service of the greatest creation in the world.


My experience is that it is far easier indirectly. For example, when I am answering Jivan Mary, others are listening more openly, because it is not their question; so they are not defending themselves in any way. When I am answering somebody else's question, it is possible that you will be benefited more than the questioner himself -- because the questioner becomes in a certain way tense; it is his question, he is involved in it. Others are relaxed; it is not their problem -- although it is everybody's problem. Jivan Mary is just an excuse; she has asked it on behalf of all of you who are present here, and all of my sannyasins who are not present here will also listen to it.


Everybody feels that when joy comes, they want to share it; when awareness arises in them, they want to make others aware.
One of the great German philosophers, Immanuel


Kant, was very particular about time -- almost obsessed with it; it was an insane kind of thing. Once he was going to the university. It had just rained, the road was muddy and one of his shoes got stuck in the mud. But he was so particular about reaching his classroom exactly on time, that he went there with one shoe on one of his feet, and the other shoe left in the mud. "When I return I will pick it up; if I try to pick it up now I will be a few minutes late."


It was said that people used to set their clocks and watches when they saw Immanuel Kant going for a morning walk. It might be raining, it might be snowing, it might be any season -- but his time was fixed. When he reached the university, all the professors did one thing and that was to set their watches to the right time.


He was a lifelong bachelor, dependent on a servant -- much too dependent. Kant was giving him double the salary he would get anywhere else. But the servant had also become aware that Kant could not live without him. Kant would get rid of any new servant within a day -- his demands about time and absolute punctuality were so difficult for new people to maintain.


The old servant never used to say, "Sir, it is lunchtime." He used to come and say, "Sir, it is one o'clock"; or at dinnertime, "Sir, it is nine o'clock"; or at sleeping time, he would come and say, "Now it is ten o'clock." He was told the time.


One day a guest was visiting, and Kant was so involved in a complicated philosophical discussion that he forgot to look at his watch. The servant came, interrupted, and said, "Sir, it is ten o'clock." Kant jumped -- shoes, hat, and all -- into his bed, and covered himself with the blanket. The guest could not believe what was happening. He asked the servant, who said, "It is time for him to go to sleep."


The guest said, "But he could at least have said 'good night' to me." The servant said, "He does not waste a single moment. You have seen the shoes and hat... he has not even changed them, because that would take time."


He used to get up at three o'clock in the morning; and that was the most difficult thing, where every servant failed. Just this one servant, who had been with him almost his whole life.... Once in a while he wanted more money, and if he did not get it, he would go away -- knowing perfectly well that tomorrow he would be called back. New servants would be hired, because Kant was also tired of the man -- he was always asking for more money, a bigger salary -- but no other servant was even remotely a substitute.


The real problem was at three o'clock, early in the morning.... Kant used to explain to his servants, "At three o'clock, whatever happens, you have to pull me out of bed. I will fight you -- I may beat you. You have to beat me. You have to wrestle with me, whatever happens, because I am asleep and I want to sleep at that moment. But that is my regular life; at three o'clock I have to get up."


Naturally, no new servant could beat the master. But the old servant was really good. He would hit him hard, pull him out of bed by his legs -- and Kant is shouting, abusing him, but he would not listen. There were times when the servant would slap him: "Wake up! It is three o'clock. Don't create any nuisance and noise, because there are neighbors too, and they don't want to get up at three o'clock."


He almost had to wrestle with him. It was an everyday routine -- three o'clock, a wrestling match. Kant would go on slipping under his blanket, and the servant would go on pulling him out.


The world may be attracted by the idea of awakening, but sleep has its own soothing calmness. So when you are talking with people about awareness, they may listen to it -- they may even think that they will give it a try -- but to remain unconscious is very consoling. And when you are surrounded by millions of sleeping people, their sleep is going to affect you, unless you have come to the highest peak of awareness -- from where there is no turning back.


Jivan Mary, I can see your frail bud, and I can see your immense longing to help people; but that can be done here and now, not there and then. You become more and more seasoned. When I see that you are in a position where no mob unconsciousness can crawl into you, I would like you to go into the world.


But you can help people from here; and you can help people from here more than you would be able to help people there, because here you are not alone. With you there are hundreds of my people -- my whole garden, in different stages of growth. They are all a support to you; they are all a tremendous nourishment to you. You will not find these trees anywhere else, because these trees have been absorbing silence, peace, joy, ecstasy.


A few days ago the mayor of Poona came to my room. He could not restrain himself; he touched my feet. And when he was going out, he told Neelam, "I have never been in such a silent room, so cool, so fresh -- it is really a temple. I am overwhelmed by the atmosphere of the room."


Anybody who comes here will be overwhelmed. These trees are no longer ordinary -- they are sannyasins. The very air has a different vibe: even when you go away, your song, your dance, your joy go on vibrating here. This is how a temple is created. A temple is not made of bricks, is not made of statues; a temple is made of a different vibe -- the vibration of silence, peace, joy, and blissfulness.


Linger on a little more in this buddhafield. When you are ripe, you will know it yourself. Then there is no problem: either you can remain here and go on growing -- your growth is going to be a tremendous help for the growth of humanity -- or you can be somewhere else.


But here -- because you are a commune, a sangha -- you are not alone; so many people are pouring their awareness, it becomes almost a pillar of fire.


I never go out of my room; I just come in the morning and in the evening to be with you. But remaining in my room, just sitting silently, I know I am doing everything that can be done to save humanity.
<p class="question">BELOVED OSHO,
IS IT REALLY POSSIBLE TO BE IN THE "NOW-HERE" ALL THE TIME? MOST OF MY TIME SEEMS TO GO IN PLANNING FOR, OR WORRYING ABOUT, THE FUTURE.</p>


Nitin, whether you know it or not, you cannot be anywhere else than here and now. Wherever you are it will be here and now.


You are given only one moment at a time -- and you are wasting that moment in planning or worrying about the future; and the future never comes. What comes is always here, now: it is a series of 'nows' -- one now, another now -- but you are always living in the now.


There is no future -- so how can you worry about the future?


It is because of this kind of worrying and planning for the future that a certain proverb exists in all the languages of the world: Man goes on desiring, planning, worrying about the future -- and God goes on disappointing him.


There is no God to disappoint you. In your very planning, you are sowing the seeds of disappointment. In your very worrying about the future, you are wasting the present; and slowly, slowly it becomes your second nature to worry about the future. So when the future comes, it will come as the present; and because of your habit of worrying about the future, you will waste that moment also in worrying.


You will go on worrying about the future for your whole life. You will stop only when death comes and takes away all possibility of the future. You missed your whole life: you could have lived -- but you only planned.


Live intensely and totally now, because the next moment will be born out of this moment; and if you have lived it totally and joyously, you can be absolutely certain that the next moment will bring more blessings, more joy.


I have heard: Three professors of philosophy were having a discussion at a railway station. The train was standing at the platform. There were a few minutes before it was due to leave, but they got so involved in their discussion that the train left without them -- then they realized, and they ran.... In the last compartment, only two professors could enter; the third remained on the platform. The train had gone and he had tears in his eyes.


A porter was standing there. Seeing the scene, he said, "Why are you crying? At least two of your friends have got the train." He said, "That is the problem. They had come to see me off." They must also be crying, inside the train.
Existence also sometimes plays jokes on people.


Nitin, stop this habit of planning. Stop worrying about the future. If tomorrow comes, you will be there; and if you know how to live, if you know how to live joyously and dancingly, your tomorrow will also be full of dance and joy.


It is the miserable man who plans for the future, because his present is so miserable that he wants to avoid it, he does not want to see it. He thinks about tomorrows: good days are going to come. He is utterly impotent to transform this moment into a good moment. A long habit of transferring everything to the future, postponing, living for the future, will take your whole life out of your hands. There is no other way.


You are asking, "Is it really possible to be in the here-now all the time?" This is the only possibility. You cannot be anywhere else. You try: try to be in the tomorrow. Nobody has succeeded up to now -- you cannot be in the coming minute. Do you think you can jump and reach into the future, jump out of today and reach into tomorrow? Even if you are planning for tomorrow, that too is being done here-now; even if you are worrying about the future, that too is being done here-now. You cannot be anywhere else; whatever you do, existence allows only this space of here and now.


I can say to you that I am living here and now. I also have tried somehow to get into the future -- but there is no way. You cannot go back into the past, you cannot go ahead of time into the future. In your hands is always the present; in fact, the present is the only time you have.


And 'now' is such a meaningful word, because that is your whole life -- a 'now' stretched from your birth to your death. But it is always now... and here is the only space. You cannot be anywhere else than here; wherever you are, that place will become here.


Just be clear about it, otherwise life goes on slipping through your hands like water. Soon you will have empty hands; and meeting death with empty hands is an utter failure. Meet your death full of joy, silence and serenity.
Meet death with your hands full of ecstasy.


In that ecstasy, death itself dies. You never die... your here-now continues forever and forever.
<p class="question">BELOVED OSHO,
SITTING IN THE DISCOURSE, CLOSING MY EYES, I FIND MYSELF ALL ALONE WITH YOUR VOICE AND THE SONG OF THE BIRDS, TOUCHING THE SPACE WHERE ALL IS ONE. IT IS AN EXPERIENCE OF SILENCE, CLARITY AND ETERNAL PEACE. EVEN SLEEP, WAR OR DESTRUCTION APPEAR AS DIVINE EXPRESSIONS OF LIFE. RETURNING TO THE WORLD OF FORMS, I SEE PERSONS, CONFLICTS, DUALITIES EVERYWHERE. EXISTENCE BECOMES A QUESTION MARK, AND I AM AFRAID THIS PLANET CAN BE DESTROYED, AND ALL ITS BEAUTY DISAPPEAR. DEEP DOWN, I SENSE THAT I AM BOTH AND BOTH ARE ONE.
BELOVED MASTER, IS AWARENESS A BOAT CROSSING TO THE OTHER SHORE, AND LOVE A BRIDGE TO COME BACK -- UNITING THE BANKS OF THE RIVER OF LIFE?</p>


Dhyananand, what you are saying is absolutely true, "Awareness is a boat crossing to the other shore, and love a bridge to come back -- uniting the banks of the river of life."


It is a very significant statement. Your so-called saints have gone only halfway. They may have attained a certain crystallization, a certain awareness, but they are not capable of coming back to the old shore with a shower of love. A saint who is without love is only half grown.


A lover who knows nothing of awareness is also living half-heartedly. Your saints are repressing their love; your lovers are repressing their awareness. I want you to be both together -- awareness and love. Then only is the circle of life complete.


Zorba is love, Buddha is awareness. And when you are Zorba the Buddha, you have attained the greatest height that is possible in existence.


But unfortunately, man has lived for centuries divided. Zorbas think they are against Buddhas, and Buddhas think they are against Zorbas. And because of this idea of antagonism, the Zorba is repressing his Buddha: he is beautiful in his love, in his song, in his dance -- but his awareness is nil. The Buddha has repressed his Zorba: his awareness is very clear, but very dry. There is no juice in it; it is like a desert, where no roses blossom, where no greenery can be seen.
A Buddha without a Zorba is only a desert.


I am being condemned by both sides: the communists, the socialists, and other types and brands of materialists condemn me because I am talking about spiritual growth, awareness, enlightenment. According to them, man is only the body, and should live as a body. And I am condemned by the other side, the Buddhists, because I am bringing materialism into their spirituality; I am polluting their pure spirituality.


The ambassador of Sri Lanka in America wrote me a letter: "You call your restaurants, discos, ZORBA THE BUDDHA. It will hurt the feelings of the Buddhists all over the world -- so I would like you to consider it and change that name. Zorba should not be joined with Buddha."


I wrote him a letter: "It is not only a question of my restaurants being called ZORBA THE BUDDHA -- I am creating living human beings who are Zorba the Buddha. My whole life's effort, my whole dedication is to bring Zorba and Buddha hand in hand, dancing in a disco."


Both are deprived: the Zorba lives an unconscious life; the Buddha lives a life without love. The meeting of both will create the whole man -- and the whole man is the only holy man.
<p class="question">BELOVED OSHO,
PLEASE TALK TO US ABOUT THE COOLNESS OF LOVE.</p>


Dhyan Amiyo, you have become too accustomed to hot dogs! Passion is hot, but passion is not love. Passion is an effort to use the other for your own biological and sexual needs. And the man who has renounced passion becomes cold -- ice cold, almost dead.


Love is just in between these two extremes, hot dogs and cold saints. In your restaurant you should start selling hot dogs and cold saints -- they are the two extremes. Just between the two is the coolness of love.


Love is not cold and love is not hot; it is a cool breeze, a fresh breeze, an early morning breeze. When it comes to you, you feel almost young again, fresh again, as if suddenly you have taken a shower.


Passion uses the other; that's why passion is a continual fight -- because so-called passionate lovers are both trying to use the other. Love does not use the other; it gives its own heart to the other. It is not a desire to get something, but a longing to share something. One is full of peace and silence and joy, and wants to share it with those who are close. They may be friends, they may be husbands, wives, children, father, mother -- anybody.


Love has an immense coolness about it. But very few people have attained to the coolness of love. Either they are hot and passionate, or when they become tired and bored with this heat, they turn to the opposite -- they become an ice-cold saint, frozen.


Mind has a way of moving like a pendulum, from one extreme to the other. That's how the clock runs, by the pendulum moving from one extreme to the other. If the pendulum stops in the middle, it will be the coolness of love; and if the pendulum stops in the middle, the clock will also stop.


I can say it in another way: in the moments of cool love, you feel time has stopped; there is no movement -- everything has stopped. It is so silent that there is not even a ripple on the lake of your consciousness.


My longing is to fill this whole world with cool love; and through cool love we can give birth to a new man, to a new humanity -- which are urgently needed. And I hope that man has enough intelligence not to choose death, that he will choose a different style of life -- without conflict, without wars, full of the peace which passeth understanding.


I hope man will not prove so retarded as to destroy himself. The greatest thing that can happen to save humanity is the coolness of love -- friendliness. Passion burns you up, and in the same way, the frozen saint is already dead.


Love keeps you alive, and coolness keeps you young and fresh. Man can have such a beautiful planet and such a beautiful humanity. Just a little understanding is needed, and I think that understanding is arising, slowly but constantly.


If you can understand me, then everybody else in the world can also understand me. Maybe it will take a little more time for them, but there has never before been a time when understanding was needed so much. It is no small matter, because now understanding is equivalent to life.
Okay, Vimal?
Yes, Osho.
			

> [!info]
> Copyright 1964-1990 Osho (Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh)
>