---
section: Library
booktitle: "This, This, A Thousand Times This: The Very Essence of Zen"
booktype: "Discourses"
bookcode: "THIS"
dategiven: "06 June 1988 pm"
place: " in Gautam the Buddha Auditorium"
chapternum: "Chapter #11"
chaptertitle: "No beginning and no end"
acode: "8806065"
shorttitle: "THIS11"
audio: "Yes"
video: "Yes"
esttime: "71mins"
displaytitle: "This, This, A Thousand Times This: The Very Essence of Zen: Chapter #11"
---

```style
.sutra {
  font-style: italic;
  white-space: pre-wrap !important;
}
```
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<p class="sutra">BELOVED OSHO,
A MONK CAME FROM JOSHU OSHO'S ASSEMBLY TO UKYU, WHO SAID TO HIM, "WHAT DO YOU FIND IN JOSHU'S TEACHING? IS THERE ANYTHING DIFFERENT FROM WHAT YOU FIND HERE?"
THE MONK SAID, "NOTHING DIFFERENT."
UKYU SAID, "IF THERE IS NOTHING DIFFERENT, WHY DON'T YOU GO BACK THERE?" AND HE HIT HIM WITH HIS STICK.
THE MONK SAID, "IF YOUR STICK HAD EYES TO SEE, YOU WOULD NOT STRIKE ME LIKE THAT."
UKYU SAID, "TODAY I HAVE COME ACROSS A MONK," AND HE GAVE HIM THREE MORE BLOWS.
THE MONK WENT OUT. UKYU CALLED AFTER HIM AND SAID, "ONE MAY RECEIVE UNFAIR BLOWS."
THE MONK TURNED BACK AND SAID, "TO MY REGRET, THE STICK IS IN YOUR HAND."
UKYU SAID, "IF YOU NEED IT, I WILL LET YOU HAVE IT."
THE MONK WENT UP TO UKYU, SEIZED HIS STICK, AND GAVE HIM THREE BLOWS WITH IT.
UKYU SAID, "UNFAIR BLOWS! UNFAIR BLOWS!"
THE MONK SAID, "ONE MAY RECEIVE THEM."
UKYU SAID, "I HIT THIS ONE TOO CASUALLY."
THE MONK MADE BOWS.
UKYU SAID, "OSHO! IS THAT HOW YOU TAKE LEAVE?"
THE MONK LAUGHED ALOUD AND WENT OUT.
UKYU SAID, "THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT!"</p>


Maneesha, this tremendously silent assembly of seekers of truth and love is still being misunderstood by spectators and by journalists who, out of sheer compassion, we allowed in.


Just today, I received from Germany the BUNTE magazine article about us; a beautiful article because I have given good hits to the journalist.


I had prevented in advance any negative article being written. I told them, "Just see the facts and report them without any prejudice covering your eyes."


The article is ninety-nine percent factual and I thank the journalist and the editor. But on a few points they could not resist showing their stupidity.


I simply cannot understand how blind people are! They can't see this silence. They can't feel the presence of so many hearts beating together. Even the bamboos can understand but BUNTE remains German. I have to say a few things in reply to the article before I take up the beautiful anecdote and discuss it.


BUNTE magazine says that I speak with an Indian accent. How do you want me to speak -- with a German accent? English is nobody's monopoly. The American speaks with an American accent, the Australian speaks with an Australian accent. The German speaks with the worst accent. What is wrong with having an Indian accent?


Secondly, he says that I use gutter language. Obviously, if you have to speak with gutter journalists, you have to speak the language they can understand. Rather than feeling the spiritual climate, not a single journalist forgets to mention that the podium is made of marble; that the Buddha Auditorium is made of marble.


How poor the world is! Nobody criticizes the Taj Mahal because it is made of marble. Nobody criticizes the great palaces and temples and cathedrals; everybody appreciates them. But anything that is connected with me...


They cannot argue against what I am saying; they don't have anything to oppose my understanding of things. So they start being stupidly interested in things which prove only their poverty and nothing else.


Do they come here to know whether the podium is made of marble or not? Are they some kind of experts about marble? This is all that they see. They don't see the silence, the music, the dance and the highrising peaks of consciousness of thousands of people.


And these blind people go on spreading their stupid opinions, polluting the mind of the masses. I would like BUNTE to send the same representative here again. He has missed the point. These stone walls do not matter.
What matters is this precious consciousness.
What matters is this cuckoo calling,
the joy, the peace.
A peace that passes understanding.


Send at least educated, cultured representatives who have experienced something of meditation. Otherwise, please leave us alone. Don't harass us -- it is beyond you.


I would like my German sannyasins to write letters to BUNTE on every single point, hitting just as a German should hit. This is an international gathering and nobody can be allowed to spread rumors, fictitious allegations. For that, the whole world is available. If you want to find crime, if you want to find murders, suicides... the whole world is available. But in this small oasis where roses are being grown, you should come with open eyes. It is not part of your world. The moment you enter the gates of this commune you should be alert and aware that you are facing a new phase of humanity. You are entering into the future.


And this is possible only with humbleness, with great intelligence, with great love; not with ordinary journalists who are interested only in sensationalism. These people here are not interested at all in any sensationalism. They are interested, totally and wholly, only to inquire into their own being.


Just watch! -- what has disappeared from the world, what has become unbelievable in the world is still breathing here. It is an alive experiment and I will not allow anybody to say anything that is not honest, truthful.


If you cannot understand, keep your mouth shut. I am not interested in your circulation, I am not interested in the whole world. Even if the whole world disappears... we are enough unto ourselves. I am not a politician who is afraid of losing his reputation. Anyway, I don't have any reputation. How I can lose it? I am so notorious that you cannot make me more notorious.


My people are working silently on a totally different plane. If you cannot understand it just say that it is beyond your comprehension. But nobody wants to acknowledge his ignorance. And it is our responsibility: in whichever language, in whichever country anything appears about this commune... if it is not truthful and honest, hammer it from here, or from your own country.


Make these people understand clearly that although all their efforts are to make me silent, they are fighting a losing battle. They can kill me, murder me, poison me... they have already done everything that they could.


But truth is eternal. It will speak, and it will speak through thousands of mouths. There is no way to stop its song and its dance.


I received a letter from England. One sannyasin was refused entry into India. He went to the Indian ambassador in England to ask why his application had been refused. And the answer that he received was that, "Nobody can ask me why. I'm a sovereign authority here."


These pigmy politicians who come and go as the season changes think themselves sovereign. We have a different definition of sovereignty. Only individuals who know themselves are sovereigns. The days of the kings, the queens and the emperors are finished. There are only four kings still alive, and they are in the playing cards. And the fifth is not even a king but only a husband of a queen. And rumors are that Prince Philip, the husband of Queen Elizabeth, himself is a queen. I cannot guarantee... but this is all that is left. Four kings in the playing cards and the fifth king who is a queen.


That world is no longer here. Now the individual arises on the horizon as a sovereign of his own being. Everybody is a sovereign, a king of his own consciousness. Here we are creating not slaves belonging to any religion, but sovereigns, knowers, individuals -- free, with their wings unfettered. We are destroying their cages, howsoever precious and antique.


But it is strange that I have never come across a single journalist who will report exactly what is happening here. Perhaps first they should join in the game, experience the taste of my presence, the taste of this commune, and only then write or speak anything. Otherwise, whatever they say as an outsider is going to be false. Only the insider's view can have any validity.

This is one of the most meaningful anecdotes.
<p class="sutra">A MONK CAME FROM JOSHU OSHO'S ASSEMBLY TO UKYU...</p>


Both are great masters and it was almost a natural phenomenon to move from one master's assembly to another just to see whether the same experience is happening everywhere. Ukyu was very famous, particularly because he was the first Zen master to use the stick.
<p class="sutra">A MONK CAME FROM JOSHU OSHO'S ASSEMBLY TO UKYU, WHO SAID TO HIM, "WHAT DO YOU FIND IN JOSHU'S TEACHING? IS THERE ANYTHING DIFFERENT FROM WHAT YOU FIND HERE?"
THE MONK SAID, "NOTHING DIFFERENT."
UKYU SAID, "IF THERE IS NOTHING DIFFERENT, WHY DON'T YOU GO BACK THERE?" AND HE HIT HIM WITH HIS STICK.</p>


He is making the point clear that every master has some uniqueness. The ultimate experience may be the same but the paths to it are many. According to the master, different flowers blossom on the path.


"If there is no difference then why have you come?" -- and he hit him with his stick to make it clear that at least that much is different: "Your master has never hit you."
<p class="sutra">THE MONK SAID, "IF YOUR STICK HAD EYES TO SEE, YOU WOULD NOT STRIKE ME LIKE THAT."</p>


The monk is not a humble man but arrogant. The hit of Ukyu was out of compassion to wake him up. Rather than being thankful, he said, "IF YOUR STICK HAD EYES TO SEE, YOU WOULD NOT STRIKE ME LIKE THAT."
<p class="sutra">UKYU SAID, "TODAY I HAVE COME ACROSS A MONK," AND HE GAVE HIM THREE MORE BLOWS.
THE MONK WENT OUT. UKYU CALLED AFTER HIM AND SAID, "ONE MAY RECEIVE UNFAIR BLOWS."</p>


You should not go this way: without answering or without asking why you have been hit.
<p class="sutra">THE MONK WENT OUT. UKYU CALLED AFTER HIM AND SAID, "ONE MAY RECEIVE UNFAIR BLOWS."
THE MONK TURNED BACK AND SAID, "TO MY REGRET, THE STICK IS IN YOUR HAND."</p>


These were very great people and great days. This kind of dialogue is very special to Zen.
<p class="sutra">UKYU SAID, "IF YOU NEED IT, I WILL LET YOU HAVE IT."
THE MONK WENT UP TO UKYU, SEIZED HIS STICK, AND GAVE HIM THREE BLOWS WITH IT.
UKYU SAID, "UNFAIR BLOWS! UNFAIR BLOWS!"
THE MONK SAID, "ONE MAY RECEIVE THEM."
UKYU SAID, "I HIT THIS ONE TOO CASUALLY."</p>


You were not worthy of it.
The moment he said,
<p class="sutra">"I HIT THIS ONE TOO CASUALLY,"
THE MONK MADE BOWS.
UKYU SAID, "OSHO!"</p>


Osho is a very honorable word. It is almost used for the masters. For example Joshu Osho. Osho is not his name but his honor, his acceptance as an enlightened man.
<p class="sutra">UKYU SAID, "OSHO! IS THAT HOW YOU TAKE LEAVE?"
THE MONK LAUGHED ALOUD AND WENT OUT.
UKYU SAID, "THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT!"</p>


Setcho makes this comment:
<p class="sutra">EASY TO CALL THE SNAKES, HARD TO SCATTER THEM.
HOW SPLENDIDLY THEY CROSSED SWORDS! ALTHOUGH THE SEA IS DEEP, IT CAN BE DRAINED; THE KALPA STONE IS HARD, BUT WEARS AWAY.</p>


The Kalpa stone is a mythological way of measuring time, just like light years.
A footnote explains:
<p class="sutra">THE KALPA STONE IS FORTY MILES SQUARE. EVERY HUNDRED YEARS A NYMPH COMES AND PASSES THE SLEEVE OF HER SILKEN ROBE LIGHTLY OVER IT.
WHEN THE STONE HAS WHOLLY WORN AWAY, ONE KALPA, OR AGE, HAS PASSED. THE KALPA STONE WILL EVENTUALLY CEASE TO EXIST, BUT THE ACHIEVEMENT OF UKYU AND THE MONK WILL LAST FOREVER.
Setcho is saying,
THE KALPA STONE IS HARD, BUT WEARS AWAY.
OLD UKYU! OLD UKYU!
WHO IS THERE LIKE YOU?
TO GIVE THE STICK TO ANOTHER -- THAT WAS TRULY THOUGHTLESS!</p>


Thoughtlessness is respected only by Zen. Everywhere thought rules supreme. Only in the world of Zen is thought just a bondage.
Thoughtlessness is freedom.

Maneesha has brought another story:
<p class="sutra">UKYU WAS ONE OF BASO'S OUTSTANDING DISCIPLES. AFTER HE HAD LEFT BASO AND WAS LIVING IN HIS OWN TEMPLE, TWO MONKS, GEN AND SHO, CAME FROM BASO'S MONASTERY TO HAVE AN INTERVIEW WITH HIM.
UKYU ASKED GEN, "WHERE ARE YOU FROM?"
"FROM KOZEI," REPLIED GEN.
(KOZEI WAS IN THE LOCATION OF BASO'S TEMPLE).
BEFORE GEN HAD FINISHED THESE WORDS, UKYU GAVE HIM A BLOW WITH HIS STICK.
GEN SAID, "I HAVE HEARD THAT YOU TREAT VISITORS LIKE THIS."
"YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND ME," SAID UKYU, AND TURNING TO SHO, HE SAID, "COME BEFORE ME."
WHEN SHO CAME FORWARD, HE WAS HIT BEFORE HE HAD SAID ANYTHING.
UKYU WAS ONE OF THE FIRST ZEN MASTERS TO USE THE STICK IN HIS TEACHING.</p>


What was this teaching by a stick, by hitting people? He was making the point by hitting them: Just come out of your sleep, wake up.
You are the buddha.
You are the dharma.
Except your isness, everything is just a dream.


Only your witnessing is authentically real. Otherwise, everything comes and goes like a dream. Only the witness remains.
<p class="question">Maneesha's first question:
BELOVED OSHO,
ZEN SEEMS TO BE OF THE UNDERSTANDING THAT THE END ALWAYS JUSTIFIES THE MEANS.
WOULD YOU PLEASE COMMENT?</p>


Maneesha, there is no beginning and there is no end.
There is no means and there is no goal.
Zen is this declaration.


Your question has been discussed by the intelligentsia down the ages. What is important? -- the means or the end? Can one achieve the right end by wrong means? Or by achieving the right end, does it matter what kind of means you use to reach it?


I can discuss your question only on the margin. It has nothing to do with the anecdote we are discussing.


Nobody can reach the right end without right means, because the end is nothing but the ultimate flowering of the means. The goal is nothing but the road reaching to its fullness. You cannot divide the road from the goal. Otherwise, there will be an unbridgeable space.


I am in absolute support of those who have, at least intellectually, accepted the idea that only right means can bring the right end. You cannot divide them, although everybody is dividing them. Particularly, the politicians are dividing them. They are using all kinds of wrong means and they are thinking that they will reach the right end.


Theologians are making the same mistake by using rituals, by worship, by scriptures; and they think they will reach to the ultimate essence of their being.


Zen does not bother about ends and means. You are both together: the means and the end, the way and the fulfillment of the way.
<p class="question">Maneesha's second question is:
BELOVED OSHO,
HAS A DISCIPLE ONLY PROVED HIMSELF WORTHY AS A DISCIPLE WHEN HE HAS GONE BEYOND DISCIPLESHIP?</p>


Maneesha, in every disciple there is a deep desire somehow to go beyond it. To be a disciple seems to be humiliating. One can surround oneself by a philosophical fog that a disciple is only a disciple when he has gone beyond discipleship.


As far as I am concerned, a disciple is authentically a disciple when he does not want to go anywhere -- even beyond disciplehood. When he is so much deeply rooted in himself, then there is no question of transcendence.


In being oneself you have transcended all relationships; not only discipleship but all relationships.


You are simply alone, standing like a mountain high rising into the sky alone in its beauty, in its freedom, in its being.


A disciple has not to transcend. Yes, transcendence comes but it cannot be a goal for the disciple, it is a happening. When you have reached home, there is no need of the way. And there is no need of any vehicle.


When you are, everything else falls away. You stand absolutely naked under the sun in the open sky, alone in your beauty and blissfulness... Transcendence has come to you. It was never the goal. It is the reward. To be a disciple as deeply as possible, existence rewards you by transcendence. Then you are enough. There is nothing more left to be learned.


The word 'disciple' simply means: one who is learning. But there comes a point within you when there is nothing to learn. One simply is. This isness is transcendence; but it comes on its own, spontaneously, without your seeking it. Your seeking is dangerous. Your seeking will become a hindrance even to be a disciple. Your desire for transcending simply means getting rid of disciplehood.


Get deeper into your own being and consciousness and transcendence will come. It is bound to come, you just have to be at home.
Some laughter before we enter into our own selves...

Francesco goes to the medical room to see doctor Azima.


"Mama mia!" he says to Azima, "I came-a home last night and found-a my girlfriend in bed with-a my best friend. I was about to kill-a them both when my girlfriend she say, 'Come on-a, Francesco, we are all-a friends. Let's have a cuppa coffee together.'


"So we all sit down and have a cuppa coffee," says Francesco. "The next day I find her in-a bed with another swami, and my girlfriend she say the same thing. So we all have a cuppa coffee. And doctor, this-a happen every day this week!"


"I see," says doctor Azima. "But I am a doctor, not a therapist. So, why you tell-a me all-a this-a ?"


"Well," says Francesco, "I am-a worried, will it be-a bad for me, all this-a coffee?"


Olga Omsky, a Russian housewife, is the envy of all her neighbors, because she always has a plentiful supply of fresh vegetables and fruit.
One day, one of her neighbors is visiting her.
"Tell me, comrade Olga," asks the neighbor, "how do you manage it?"


"It is quite simple," explains Olga, "I have a parrot which I have trained to speak. Whenever I go to the market, the parrot sits on the handle of my shopping cart. I leave the cart in the middle of the market, and when the parrot starts squawking, 'Long live communism!' everyone throws at it whatever they can get their hands on!"


Paddy gets a new job, and on the first day, the boss walks up to him and says, "What is your name?"
"Patrick Murphy!" Paddy replies.
"Look here," snaps the boss, "say 'Sir', when you speak to me!"
"All right," says Paddy, "Sir Patrick Murphy!"


Old man Finkelstein is lonely one evening, so he invites his pal, Rosenfeld, over for a game of cards.
They play for a while, and then Rosenfeld looks at his watch.
"What time is it?" he asks. "My watch has stopped."
"Who cares?" says Fink.
"Well, look at your watch," says Rosenfeld.
"I ain't got a watch," says Fink.
"Then look at the clock in the bedroom," says Rosenfeld.
"I ain't got any clock in the bedroom," says Finkelstein.
"Well, how about the clock in the kitchen?" asks Rosenfeld.
"I ain't got one there either," says Fink.
"Well, don't you ever wanna know what time it is?" asks Rosenfeld.
"When I wanna know," says Fink, "I just pick up my drum."
"Drum?" asks Rosenfeld.


"I will show you," says Fink, and he takes his drum over to the window and starts beating on it.


All around the houses outside, windows go up and people start yelling, "Are you crazy? Beating a drum at a quarter to twelve?"

And now, Nivedano can beat the drum.
The first drum...

(Drumbeat)

(Gibberish)

Nivedano...

(Drumbeat)

Be silent, utterly silent.
Close your eyes, no movement.
Let your whole energy be in.

This...
Force your needle of consciousness on the point...


This.

Nivedano...

(Drumbeat)

Relax, just be dead.


This.


This.
A thousand times This.

Nivedano...

(Drumbeat)


Come back to life -- really back, with your fresh consciousness like a flame which has burnt all that is false.
Just be like the bamboos.
Here and now.

Okay, Maneesha?
Yes, Osho.
			

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