---
section: Library
booktitle: "The Messiah, Vol 1"
booktype: "Discourses"
bookcode: "MESS1"
dategiven: "14 January 1987 pm"
place: " in Chuang Tzu Auditorium"
chapternum: "Chapter #13"
chaptertitle: "Speak to us of work"
acode: "8701145"
shorttitle: "MESS113"
audio: "Yes"
video: "Yes"
esttime: "125mins"
displaytitle: "The Messiah, Vol 1: Chapter #13"
---

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}
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<p class="sutra">BELOVED OSHO,
THEN A PLOUGHMAN SAID,
SPEAK TO US OF WORK.
AND HE ANSWERED, SAYING:
YOU WORK THAT YOU MAY KEEP PACE WITH THE EARTH AND THE SOUL OF THE EARTH.
FOR TO BE IDLE IS TO BECOME A STRANGER UNTO THE SEASONS, AND TO STEP OUT OF LIFE'S PROCESSION THAT MARCHES IN MAJESTY AND PROUD SUBMISSION TOWARDS THE INFINITE.
WHEN YOU WORK YOU ARE A FLUTE THROUGH WHOSE HEART THE WHISPERING OF THE HOURS TURNS TO MUSIC.
WHICH OF YOU WOULD BE A REED, DUMB AND SILENT,
WHEN ALL ELSE SINGS TOGETHER IN UNISON?
ALWAYS YOU HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT WORK IS A CURSE AND LABOUR A MISFORTUNE
BUT I SAY TO YOU THAT WHEN YOU WORK YOU FULFIL A PART OF EARTH'S FURTHEST DREAM, ASSIGNED TO YOU WHEN THAT DREAM WAS BORN,
AND IN KEEPING YOURSELF WITH LABOUR YOU ARE IN TRUTH LOVING LIFE,
AND TO LOVE LIFE THROUGH LABOUR IS TO BE INTIMATE WITH LIFE'S INMOST SECRET.
BUT IF YOU IN YOUR PAIN CALL BIRTH AN AFFLICTION AND THE SUPPORT OF THE FLESH A CURSE WRITTEN UPON YOUR BROW, THEN I ANSWER THAT NAUGHT BUT THE SWEAT OF YOUR BROW SHALL WASH AWAY THAT WHICH IS WRITTEN.
YOU HAVE BEEN TOLD ALSO THAT LIFE IS DARKNESS,
AND IN YOUR WEARINESS YOU ECHO WHAT WAS SAID BY THE WEARY.
AND I SAY THAT LIFE IS INDEED DARKNESS SAVE WHEN THERE IS URGE,
AND ALL URGE IS BLIND SAVE WHEN THERE IS KNOWLEDGE.
AND ALL KNOWLEDGE IS VAIN SAVE WHEN THERE IS WORK. AND ALL WORK IS EMPTY
SAVE WHEN THERE IS LOVE. AND WHEN YOU WORK WITH LOVE YOU BIND YOURSELF TO YOURSELF, AND TO ONE ANOTHER, AND TO GOD.</p>


In these words, Almustafa is giving the deepest experience of creativity. Life belongs to those who are creative because life is nothing but a long, eternal procession of creating more beauty, more truth... of creating higher states of consciousness, and finally of creating a god in your own being.


There are people who think that without being creative, they can be happy. It is impossible, because creativity is the only way to relate with the ecstasy of existence.


Hence, listen to his words not through your mind but through your heart -- because they come from the heart, and can be understood only if you receive them in the heart. It is not a communication of words from one mind to another mind. It is a communion -- the deepest calling -- to your depths, which you have completely forgotten.
<p class="sutra">THEN A PLOUGHMAN SAID, SPEAK TO US OF WORK.
AND HE ANSWERED, SAYING:
YOU WORK THAT YOU MAY KEEP PACE WITH THE EARTH AND THE SOUL OF THE EARTH.</p>


Have you observed? -- all around you, the whole existence is continuously creating. The biblical story is absurd that God created everything in six days and then rested on the seventh day. And since then, nothing has been heard about it; he's still resting. What kind of rest is this? He must have died! The very idea that God created existence and all that it contains in six days is sheer nonsense.


I used to travel all over the country, for almost twenty years continuously. I had an old tailor who prepared clothes for me. I told him, "I am in urgent need -- this time please don't behave like a tailor! I need my robes prepared in six days because on the seventh day, I'm leaving the city."


That old tailor looked at me and said, "I have no objection. They will be prepared. But just look at the world: God created it in six days, and what a mess it is in! The same will be the case with your robes; then don't tell me about it."
In six days, this whole existence?


I say unto you that creativity is a continuity, the seventh day never comes. Have you seen trees on holiday, rivers on holiday? On Sunday, which is the day for the sun, he should not rise; it is a holiday. Even God rested, why should the poor sun rise and go on and on?


Existence is a continuous creativity. It has not been created by anyone, it itself is divine. So I would like you to replace it in your minds and in your hearts: the word "god" does not mean the creator, it means creativity. And it is my experience that the most blissful people in the world are those who can create something. The most miserable are those who are uncreative because the more uncreative you are, the farther and farther you are from nature -- from earth, from the sky, from the stars -- whose dance knows no beginning and no end.
Almustafa is absolutely right:


You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth. If your work is just a burden to you, somehow to be done, you are not keeping pace with the whole existence. You are falling backwards. And to be in tune with existence is the only bliss -- there is no other -- and to fall out of pace with the earth and the sky is the only misery.


Man is miserable and is going to remain miserable because he has lost contact with the creative forces that have given birth to him, that are keeping him alive. He has become futile. He looks almost as if he would rather enjoy the rest in a grave than work, create, and dance with the whole existence.
<p class="sutra">FOR TO BE IDLE IS TO BECOME A STRANGER UNTO THE SEASONS....</p>


We have been given such a beautiful existence with such glorious seasons. In the fall, when the leaves start falling from the trees, have you heard the song? When the wind passes through the dead leaves which have gathered on the ground... even the dead leaves are not as dead as man has become; still they can sing. They don't complain that the tree has dropped them. They go with nature wherever it leads. And this is the way of a true religious heart: no complaint, no grudge but just being blissful for all that existence has given to you -- which you had not asked for, which you had not earned.


Have you danced while it is raining? No, you have created umbrellas. And it is not only against the rain... you have created many umbrellas to protect you from the constant creativity of existence.


When I was a student in the university, whenever it used to rain it was an absolute certainty that I would leave the class, and my professors became aware that "When it is raining, you cannot stop him. He has to go." And I had found the loneliest street, with tall trees reaching and touching the clouds. On that silent and deserted road, there were only a few bungalows belonging to professors and deans, and the vice chancellor. It was a silent place and it was a dead-end street.


The last bungalow belonged to the head of the department of physics. His family had become accustomed to it, that if I was there, the rain was bound to come; or if it was raining, I was bound to come. We had become simultaneous, to the family.


The whole family used to look -- "What kind of crazy boy is this?" Soaked in the falling rain, in the dancing winds... and because that was the dead-end, I used to stay under a tree as long as it continued to rain. The family was certainly curious. They wanted to inquire, "Who is this boy?" But the head of the department of physics had become interested in me for other reasons. He was a lover of books and he always found me in the library. There were days when we were the only two persons in the library.


He started becoming more and more loving and friendly towards me and he said, "You are a little strange. You should be in your class, but I see you most of the time in the library."


I said, "In the class, the professor is almost always out of date. He is saying things which he read when he was in the university thirty years ago. In these thirty years, everything has changed. I want to keep pace with the growing wisdom, knowledge, science. In fact, in the library I am more a contemporary, in touch with the latest findings. So I go to class once in a while when I feel a desire to argue. My professors are happy that I remain in the library because whenever I visit their classes, it is always trouble. There is a gap of thirty years and I have all the latest information."


He said, "One day I would like to take you to my home. I want you to be introduced to my children, my wife, to show them that here is a student who has come to the university not for degrees but to learn; not for certificates and gold medals but to keep in tune with the explosion of knowledge in all directions, in all dimensions. Sometimes, even although I am the head of the department of physics and you have nothing to do with physics, you know more than I know. Now it is too late to cover the gap of thirty years; I have lost contact."


So one day he invited me. He was feeling that his family would be immensely happy to meet me, to talk with me, to listen to what I had to say. But he was very much shocked -- as we entered his house, the whole family started laughing, and they escaped inside the house!


He said, "This is very strange. They have never done this before. My wife is a postgraduate, all my children are getting educated. This is not a behavior...."


I said, "You don't know; I know your family, we are well acquainted. Although we have not spoken to each other, we have known each other for two years."
He said, "This is strange. I wasn't even aware of the fact."


I said, "Don't be worried and don't feel sad and sorry and hurt by the behavior of your family. What they have done is absolutely right."


We entered, and the family gathered. He asked them: "What was the reason for you all to start laughing and why did you all escape? Is this a way to welcome a guest? And I had informed you that I was bringing a guest that you would all love."


They said, "But we are almost in love with the guest already. He's the craziest fellow in your university. Not only does he waste his time, when it rains, he wastes our time too because we cannot go inside until he leaves. He's an interesting fellow."


Then I explained to him that I loved running miles against the wind -- one feels so alive -- going for long walks without any umbrella, particularly when it is raining. Even when it is a hot day and the sun is throwing fire, it has its own beauty -- to perspire and then to have a jump in the lake. The water feels so cool, just the contrast.
One who understands life will not be left behind.


In fact, what Almustafa is saying is very moderate -- to keep pace with life. I teach my sannyasins to dance ahead of life. Why wait for life to move? Let life try to keep pace with YOU and that will bring great joy and bliss to you which millions of people on the earth remain absolutely unaware of.
<p class="sutra">... AND TO STEP OUT OF LIFE'S PROCESSION THAT MARCHES IN MAJESTY AND PROUD SUBMISSION TOWARDS THE INFINITE.</p>


Life is continuously moving towards the eternal, the infinite, the ultimate. If you lose contact, you start feeling like just a living corpse. You cannot have laughter and you cannot have tears of joy. You have died before death; you may live fifty years more but that is posthumous life. You are no longer part of the beautiful caravan of life moving always into the unknown.
It is an adventure, a moment-to-moment challenge.
<p class="sutra">WHEN YOU WORK YOU ARE A FLUTE THROUGH WHOSE HEART THE WHISPERING OF THE HOURS TURNS TO MUSIC.</p>


It is not a question of any particular work -- any work that you love. You need not be the president of a country to be happy. Perhaps just making shoes... but making them with such intensity and totality that you are completely lost in the act, and you are far more blessed than any president can be.


The moment you are lost in work, you become almost like a flute on the lips of existence itself. Your every gesture turns into grace, and your every moment brings celestial music to the earth. You become a vehicle.
<p class="sutra">WHICH OF YOU WOULD WOULD BE A REED, DUMB AND SILENT, WHEN ALL ELSE SINGS TOGETHER IN UNISON?</p>


It is almost inconceivable how vast the universe is. And the latest discoveries of physics are that it is not a static universe, such that there is a boundary to it. It is continually expanding, becoming bigger and bigger. With the speed of light, all the stars are running farther away from the center.


The universe today is far bigger than it was yesterday. Tomorrow you will be living in an even bigger universe. It seems there are no limits to existence and its expansion. But there are people who are not in tune with this vast universal harmony.


Even here I see two or three persons every day: when you are all singing, rejoicing, they are sitting like the dead, freshly driven from their graves. If they cannot be part of the dance and the music, they should not be here. Even while I am paying respect to them with my folded hands, they are sitting dead and stiff.


You have to watch: Whenever you see any dead person here, he should never be allowed in this temple of the living. I am not wasting my time with the dead; otherwise there are many graveyards I can go to, and without any trouble, without disturbing anybody, without any controversy, talk to the dead to my heart's content.


This is a living temple of god. If you cannot be in communion with my people, please don't enter here. This is not the place for you. Perhaps they are the agents of the dead police commissioner! Otherwise, I am paying respect to their dignity with folded hands and they cannot even show that much courtesy. And when you are all singing and rejoicing, I watch them -- they look so ugly, so out of place.


So everyone of you has to be alert. If you find some dead person sitting by your side, make sure he never again crosses the doors of this temple. And strangely enough, those dead people are always sitting on the chairs! I know one should be respectful of the dead but the dead have also some duty towards the living.


So remember: from tomorrow, if I see anybody not in tune with you, I will have to enter among you and take hold of that man and throw him out. Enough is enough -- I have been waiting -- and these people should be searched well; they may be carrying firearms with them. And if anybody is found with firearms, report him to the police. Even if he says that he's a policeman in plainclothes; even if he shows his identity card, everything can be false. If notes can be printed, do you think identity cards cannot be printed?


No firearms are allowed in this temple. This is sacrilegious. This is against intelligence, against love, against prayer. They can come, even if they are agents of the police, if they come as disciples. Everybody has some profession... here, even thieves and murderers are welcome.


And in fact, the psychological fact is that the people who enter the police service are the same people who turn out to be criminals. Criminals are doing the same work as the policemen are doing; they belong to the same category, to the same psychology. They are two sides of the same coin. Criminals are a little more courageous -- they are doing their business alone. The weaker criminals are not capable enough to do their crimes alone; they want the support of the government, firearms. But what they do is exactly the same -- sometimes even more criminal.


Everybody is welcome here except the dead. So you have to be aware -- don't put me to the trouble of going inside and taking some donkey by his ears. Don't force me to do that.


Don't let them come in. And you can watch, just watch around you. If somebody is sitting dead, just tell him: "This is not the place for you. There are graveyards -- Christian, Hindu, Mohammedan. Go wherever you want, but get lost!"
<p class="sutra">ALWAYS YOU HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT WORK IS A CURSE AND LABOUR A MISFORTUNE.</p>


Man has been fed such great lies that one wonders: why do we go on and on feeding our children on the same lies -- which have not given you anything in life. Your insanity, your unconsciousness, your blindness must be enormous.


In this country you can see it. The country has been divided for five thousand years by one of the most criminal minds of the world. But Hindus think that he is a great seer. His name is Manu and his book is MANUSMRITI. It divides humanity into four categories: the highest is the brahmin -- who never works, who only worships, who only prays, and he's the highest. And the lowest is the sudra, who works and supports the whole society. You can live without brahmins without any trouble. In fact, because of them there is always trouble. But you cannot live without the sudras. Who is going to clean your streets, your gutters, your absolutely unhygienic, ugly toilets?


In fact, most Indian houses don't have any toilets. People are using the earth openly, urinating anywhere, defecating anywhere. And these people think they are the most cultured people in the world.


In Bombay, I became aware that the whole city is floating in urine and shit! I have always wondered why Morarji Desai had chosen Bombay to be his residence. It is because the perfume that surrounds the great city of Bombay... except Morarji Desai, nobody else could enjoy it.


We are, and we have been for centuries, so inhuman to one-fourth of our people -- who are the very foundation of our society; without them, you cannot live a single day. But they are condemned, they are not even accepted as human beings.


They cannot live in the middle of the city, they have to live outside the city. Their other name in Sanskrit is antyaja -- those who live outside the town. And there have been times when even their shadow was thought to be disgusting, so every sudra had to move with a bell in his hand -- it was in the north of India -- so that people could disperse, hearing his bell. You think the West has invented the horn? You are wrong, it is an invention of Hindu society, thousands of years old. No sudra was allowed to move in all parts of the city -- only a few parts, but there too he had to keep ringing a bell continuously so everybody should know who he is.


How you have taken the dignity of a human being, how you have reduced him! Dogs can move, buffaloes can move, donkeys can move, police officers can move -- but a sudra cannot move because if even his shadow touches you, you will have to take a bath immediately to clean yourself.


In the south, it became even more absurd. Every sudra had a long brush attached to a belt at the back, and in his hand, a bell. And why was this long brush attached? -- so that the earth does not become unclean. When he moves, the brush goes on cleaning it.
And you think this country is civilized?


A brahmin can marry any woman -- she may belong to the warriors, the second category; she may belong to the vaishyas, the business people, the third category. She may even belong to the fourth category, the sudras -- although if he marries a sudra, he will be expelled from the highest caste. He will become a sudra, that is the only punishment. But the sudra cannot marry any woman beyond his caste; it is a more heinous crime, according to Manu, than murder. And Manu is still the lawgiver to the Hindus.


I am asked continuously not to criticize anybody. You just tell me: if nobody criticizes these idiots of the past, then how are we going to get rid of all this nonsense?


The sudra is not allowed to have any education, he's not allowed to read any religious scripture. Obviously, he cannot read because he has never been in a school.


It was the British government who made a law that sudras can and should be allowed in the schools. When I was a child and I first entered school, I was surprised that a few children were sitting outside the class. I asked, "What is the matter? Why are these children sitting out of the class?"


And the teacher told me, "They are sudras. Although the law has been enforced, we cannot drop our culture. They have to sit outside."


Even if some sudra somehow manages to learn to read, he cannot read any religious scripture. The penalty and the punishment is death. Forget all about reading religious scriptures -- he cannot even listen. If somewhere brahmins are reciting the VEDAS, the sudra is not allowed to listen.


This is the respect that you have given to labor. The parasites, the brahmins, are the highest caste; you have to touch their feet. Always you have been told that work is a curse.... And certainly, when religious priests were saying that work is a curse, it appeared to be absolutely a fact, because for thousands of years you have been cursing the workers. It is a vicious circle. First you take the dignity of the laborer, of the worker; first you destroy his pride, his integrity. He cannot do another business.


In Hinduism, there is no movement -- you are born a brahmin, you cannot become a brahmin. Even if you are more learned, more wise... even a Gautam Buddha cannot become a brahmin.


And the brahmins have not been able to produce a single Gautam Buddha. But you will be surprised: the sudras have produced people almost equal to Gautam Buddha -- of course, unrecognized by the society. But now you can see... a Kabir who was a weaver, and weavers belong to the sudras. He's uneducated; hence he has not the refined expression of a Gautam Buddha but what he says in the simple and ordinary language of the people has the same flight. And sometimes -- because it is raw, uncut diamonds -- it has more potential, more possibility, more meaning.


Buddha is a well-cut diamond, well polished, but now you cannot do anything more to him. Kabir is a Kohinoor, just out of the mine. Let me remind you: when the Kohinoor was found, it was three times bigger than it now is in the crown of the Queen of England. To cut it, to give it facets, to give it a beautiful shape, to polish it, two-thirds was lost. Kabir is an uncut, freshly taken out diamond; he has many more possibilities than the Kohinoor.


Raidas was a shoemaker but has the same attainment of consciousness. He was uneducated, never heard of any religious scriptures. His case proves that all religious scriptures are useless, there is no need. A Raidas just making shoes can rise to the same height as a Gautam Buddha -- then what is the need of unnecessarily burdening yourself with religious scriptures?


A Gora... he was a potter. He's also part of the sudras, the untouchables -- they cannot be touched. But the poetry of Kabir, Raidas, Gora, is so beautiful, so authentic, so unburdened with unnecessary ornaments -- just pure and simple. No brahmin has been able even to produce a Raidas, a Gora or a Kabir, and still they continue to be the most respected people in the society. And the most unproductive, because they are not working at all; they are not creating anything.


I repeat: they are parasites, bloodsuckers. They should be brought back to the earth and they should be made aware that unless you create and work, you don't deserve anything. Why have they not been able to create a Kabir or a Buddha? The reason is simple: because they have fallen far away from nature and existence. Remaining uncreative, nobody can go on dancing with the tune, in harmony with the stars.
<p class="sutra">ALWAYS YOU HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT WORK IS A CURSE AND LABOUR A MISFORTUNE
BUT I SAY TO YOU THAT WHEN YOU WORK YOU FULFILL A PART OF EARTH'S FURTHEST DREAM....</p>


You are participating when you are working, creating, with love and devotion and joy. You have become, without knowing, part of the creativity of the whole existence. Your life will be showered with great bliss and great benediction.


Existence has a dream to fulfill: to create in every living being, ultimately, the qualities of a god. And this dream was assigned to you when that dream was born... from the very beginning.
You are the arrows of existence to reach to the farthest stars.
<p class="sutra">AND IN KEEPING YOURSELF WITH LABOUR YOU ARE IN TRUTH LOVING LIFE.</p>


How can you show your love to life? There is a beautiful Sufi story. A great emperor used to go around the town every day early in the morning when the sun was rising, on his horse. It was a beautiful exercise for him and also an experience of how the city was growing, how his capital was becoming more and more beautiful.


He had a dream to make it the most beautiful place on the earth. But he was always puzzled... and he always stopped his horse and watched an old man, who must have been one hundred and twenty years old. He was always working in the garden, sowing seeds, watering trees -- trees which would take hundreds of years to come to their youth; trees that live for four thousand years.


He was puzzled: this man is half in the grave; for whom is he sowing these seeds? He will never be able to see the fruits and the flowers. It is impossible to conceive that this man is going to see the outcome of his labor.


One day, he could not resist his temptation. He stepped down from the horse and asked the old man: "I have been passing every day and the same question arises every time. Now it has become almost impossible not to interfere with your work, just for a moment. I want to know: for whom are you sowing these seeds? These trees will become ripe, young, when you are not here."


The old man looked at the emperor and laughed. He said, "If this had been the logic of my forefathers, then I would not have been able to get fruits and flowers and this beautiful garden. I am a gardener for generations -- my father and my forefathers planted seeds, I have eaten the fruit. What about my children? What about my children's children? If they had also been of your opinion, there would have been no garden. People come from faraway places to see this place because I have trees that are thousands of years old. I am simply doing whatever I can in thankfulness.


"And as far as sowing the seeds... when the spring comes, seeing green leaves coming out is such a joy that I have completely forgotten how old I am. I am as young as ever. I have remained young because I have continued to be creative. Death takes away people who become useless; perhaps that's why I have lived so long, and still I am young. Death is compassionate to me because I am keeping pace with existence. Existence will miss me; existence is not able to replace anybody. Perhaps that's why I am still alive. But you are young and you are asking questions like a man who is dying. The reason is, you are uncreative."


The only way to love life is to create more life, is to make life more beautiful, more fruitful, more juicy. Don't leave this earth unless you have made it a little better than you found it when you were born -- this is the only religion that I know of. All other religions are just fake.


I teach you the religion of creativity. And by creating more life, you will be transformed because one who can create life has already become part of God, of godliness.
<p class="sutra">AND TO LOVE LIFE THROUGH LABOUR IS TO BE INTIMATE WITH LIFE'S INMOST SECRET.</p>


What is the most intimate secret? -- that life never dies. Only forms change: old leaves fall, new leaves are arriving; old trees disappear but before disappearing they have spread millions of seeds all around.


In India there is a tree... perhaps just behind our campus. The name of the tree is semal. It is a very intelligent tree because... it is big; under its shade, thousands of people can sit. Naturally, it is afraid: if its seeds fall underneath, without sun, they will die. It has to find a way so that the seeds can go as far as possible.


So the semal tree creates a seed with cotton wool around it... it is the most beautiful cotton wool. Because of the cotton wool, the seed cannot fall directly to the earth, and the wind takes it far away. The tree has secured for its children a place where they will be able to grow. This existence is not stupid. Its very intelligence is another name of God. This semal tree one day will die, but before dying it will make certain that thousands of semal trees, its children, are going to live the same beautiful life of dance in the rain, in the sun, in the wind.
<p class="sutra">BUT IF YOU IN YOUR PAIN CALL BIRTH AN AFFLICTION AND THE SUPPORT OF THE FLESH A CURSE WRITTEN UPON YOUR BROW, THEN I ANSWER THAT NAUGHT BUT THE SWEAT OF YOUR BROW SHALL WASH AWAY THAT WHICH IS WRITTEN.</p>


All the religions have been telling such lies to people. It seems the very profession of the priest is to lie, and to lie with such a method that people start believing in it. They have been saying, "Whatever you do, you cannot change your fate. It is written on your brow." Nothing is written there. You have to write it by what you do, by what you become.


Everybody creates his own destiny. And even if there is written something, Almustafa is saying, "Don't be worried. The sweat, the perspiration will wash it away. Be creative with such intensity that even if something is written there, it will be washed away" -- although the truth is, there is nothing that is written.
You come into the world absolutely free.


What you become is your responsibility. Only fools go to the astrologers, only fools are concerned about their birth charts. The intelligent person creates his own destiny, his own life. Don't waste your time in astrology, birth charts, tarot cards, I Ching. Just learn to love life and enhance life with your heart. Whatever you can do, do it.
<p class="sutra">YOU HAVE BEEN TOLD ALSO THAT LIFE IS DARKNESS,
AND IN YOUR WEARINESS YOU ECHO WHAT WAS SAID BY THE WEARY.</p>


This statement is more important than all the religious scriptures of the world, because they are all saying, "Life is darkness, life is a punishment. You are suffering all these miseries and pains and anxieties because of your evil acts in your past lives." These are the people who themselves are uncreative; hence they have fallen out of tune. They are miserable.


Look at your saints -- whether they are Christian or Hindu or Mohammedan or Jaina, it makes no difference -- they are all against life, anti-life. You have to renounce this life; only in your renunciation will you be able to please God.


But if you renounce life, you naturally become uncreative. That's why your saints are the most uncreative people in the world. Otherwise, this world would have been a paradise. But because they have fallen out of tune and become miserable, because they are tired of misery, because they are weary, they think something is wrong with life.


The reality is just the opposite: everything is right with life, something is wrong with those saints. Your saints are all sick people, they need psychological treatment. And instead of giving them psychological treatment, you have been worshipping them, fulfilling their egos. They become even more sad because sadness is bringing, without any effort, a fulfillment of the ego.


The politician has to fight, struggle, to fulfill his ego. The man who is after money -- it is not an easy job because there are millions of competitors. But for the saint, there is no competition. His is the only business where competition does not exist. You can stand on your head as long as you want; no one is going to come and compete. You can torture your body, you can fast for months; people will come to worship you. They will bring flowers, touch your feet and receive your teaching -- which is going to be sick, because it is out of a sick mind.


Humanity has been tortured by psychologically sick people, and they are still in power, and people are listening to them without ever thinking for a moment that no tree ever becomes a saint, no mountain, no ocean, no river, no star in existence -- only man can become psychologically sick. And if you start worshipping a sick man, he will start teaching the same sickness to you.
Life is light. Life is joy. Life is celebration.


But ask those who have experienced life -- not those who have renounced it. Just by their renunciation, they have closed the doors of ever knowing the deepest secrets and the mysteries of existence. I have seen all kinds of idiots but your saints are incomparable. They have reached to the highest peak of being an idiot.


Listen to the singers, listen to the dancers, listen to the painters, listen to the poets. Listen to those who are creating something beautiful, who are enhancing life. Stop listening to people who are anti-life. If they are anti-life it is their business -- leave them! Don't worship them, because your worship is keeping them sick. If you stop worshipping them, soon they will realize: "Something is wrong with me."


I have heard a story. One dog had become a saint, and he was continuously teaching one thing to all the dogs of the city: "We have not been evolving to higher peaks of consciousness because we are wasting our energy in unnecessary barking at each other. Barking is our problem. Stop barking!"


And every dog thought, "There seems to be some reasonability in what he is saying because we are unnecessarily barking -- barking at the moon."


Now the people who are going to the moon are called astronauts. What will you call the dogs? -- astroNUTS. But they are the most ancient astronuts: from the very beginning, they have been against the moon. Full moon night, and they cannot even sleep.


So it looked logical: "Our whole energy is being wasted in barking." They all started worshipping that dog, and the more they worshipped, the more authoritative the dog became. Their conviction made him convinced in return that what he was saying must be right. Otherwise, so many dogs cannot listen, with their heads down in shame... "Our great teacher, great saint, our first saint in the whole of history, and nobody listens to him. The moment he is gone, barking starts."


But there is a limit to everything. One full moon night, they decided: "At least for one night, whatever temptations come -- a policeman passes, a strange dog from another town passes -- we will keep our eyes closed. And at least one night every year we will devote to our saint's teaching." So they all became silent.


The teacher could not believe what had happened. The whole city was silent, no dog barking. He went around the city. Dogs were hiding wherever they could find a place to hide -- with closed eyes, with clenched teeth. It was very strenuous and very difficult, but it was only a question of one night.... "In the morning we can bark with vengeance but if we have decided, then we should stick to the decision."


But the saint became very much worried: what would happen to his sainthood? All the dogs had stopped barking -- what was he going to do? His only business was to teach them that barking was wrong.


As the middle of the night came, the teacher felt for the first time a strange irritation in his throat. He said, "My god, what is happening? All the dogs are silent and a great urge to bark is arising in me."


In fact, his urge to bark had been fulfilled because he was continuously barking in the form of teaching all over the town -- moving from here to there, his throat was never unemployed. It was the first time for six hours he had not talked. And of course, he was a dog so he went into a dark corner and started barking.


When other dogs heard that one dog had broken the promise, then they could not resist the temptation. The whole city burst, all the dogs barking as they had never barked. And the teacher came from the darkness and started saying, "This is the curse of our race; otherwise we could have risen above humanity. Stop barking! Barking is the only problem, the only sin!"


If you don't go to your saints, I say to you they will be in the same position as the saint of the dogs. They will rush and do things against that which they have been teaching you. Just give them a little chance.


But you are continuously worshipping them. There is always a crowd around them. It is so fulfilling. Politicians come to be blessed by them for their elections -- presidents, prime ministers. And what is their qualification? Their qualification is that they are anti-life.
I teach you life, love, laughter.
<p class="sutra">AND I SAY THAT LIFE IS INDEED DARKNESS SAVE WHEN THERE IS URGE...</p>


If your longing to reach to the stars has died, life is darkness.
<p class="sutra">AND ALL URGE IS BLIND SAVE WHEN THERE IS KNOWLEDGE.</p>


All longing is blind unless it arises out of wisdom and your meditativeness, out of your silence.
<p class="sutra">AND ALL KNOWLEDGE IS VAIN SAVE WHEN THERE IS WORK...</p>


A knowledge that is uncreative, unproductive, is barren, is meaningless. It is vain.
<p class="sutra">AND ALL WORK IS EMPTY SAVE WHEN THERE IS LOVE.</p>


If you work without love, you are working like a slave. When you work with love, you work like an emperor. Your work is your joy, your work is your dance. Your work is your poetry.


And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God.


Work based in love brings you closer to yourself and closer to others and finally, closer to God himself.


Remember, I repeat again: If anybody is not going to participate in the song there is still time -- get lost!

Okay, Vimal?
Yes, Osho.
			

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> Copyright 1964-1990 Osho (Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh)
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