---
section: Library
booktitle: "The Old Pond ... Plop"
booktype: "Diaries"
bookcode: "POND"
dategiven: "10 January 1981 pm"
place: " in Chuang Tzu Auditorium"
chapternum: "Chapter #10"
chaptertitle: "None"
acode: "8101105"
shorttitle: "POND10"
audio: "No"
video: "No"
esttime: ""
displaytitle: "The Old Pond ... Plop: Chapter #10"
---

```style
.sutra {
  font-style: italic;
  white-space: pre-wrap !important;
}
```
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> [!info]
> Note
>
[NOTE: This is an unedited tape transcript of an unpublished darshan diary, which has been scanned and cleaned up. It is for reference purposes only.]


A life becomes really alive only when love blossoms, otherwise it is a tree with no flowers, it is a bird who is dumb, cannot sing, or a bird without wings. A life without love is crippled inwardly, paralysed, from the outside everything will be as it should be but from the inside something is missing -- something which makes everything valuable, something without which it is all dark.


Love is the lamp of the interior world, the light of the within. But love brings many problems, sometimes so big that it seems safer to avoid it. It brings anxiety, conflict, fear, bondage. It is absolutely needed. The person who avoids it is committing suicide, but the people who live calculatedly, whose lifestyle is rooted in arithmetic, whose vision is not more than the material, the worldly, the outside, whose vision consists only of the miserable, the logical -- they are bound to decide against love. They will call love madness ... And they are not absolutely wrong either.


They are right because love brings so many problems that life becomes a turmoil, an insanity. One loses all balance and then to get out of it is very difficult -- one thing leads to another, one problem to many other problems. Hence the cautious person decides against love, but then he has decided against life itself. Then he is living meaninglessly. Then he simply vegetates and calls it life. He drags and he feels continuously that there is no dance, no significance, but he consoles himself 'It is so because life itself is meaningless -- what can I do?'


That's what Jean-Paul Sartre and other existentialists say: life itself is meaningless, it is not our fault! Life is absurd, it is not our fault. But they are utterly wrong! Life is not absurd, life is not meaningless, but meaning comes through love. Life is only an opportunity to grow into love. Love brings problems -- hence all the religions of the world have decided against love. These religions have been invented by very Jewish people -- calculating, businesslike.


As far as I can see all the religions have been founded by Jews! (laughter) They may be known or hidden -- that's another thing -- but it is a Jewish conspiracy, because they all live with such calculation. The monastery is nothing but an escape from love.


Love can become without any problems if one more element is added to it -- that is awareness. Unconscious love creates problems. In fact it is not love that creates problems, that is a misunderstanding. It is the unconsciousness in it which creates problems.


Rightly analysed one can see clearly from where the problems come. They don't come from love itself, they come from unconciousness. It's unconsciousness that creates jealousy, that creates possessiveness, that creates domination, that fear, that creates anxiety about the future, that creates suspicion, doubt. It is unconsciousness that brings anger, hatred, conflict -- it is not love at all. But we are such a mixture that unless you are very aware you will not be able to separate them.


The moment you become alert they can be separated. And once you are able to separate what love is and what unconsciousness is, once you are conscious of your unconsciousness it starts disappearing, because that is the only way to make it evaporate. To be conscious of unconsciousness simply means that consciousness cannot allow unconsciousness to exist any more. It is like bringing light into a dark room; the moment the light is inside the room the darkness disappears. Yes, when you are bringing the lamp and the room is still far away you can see that it is dark. The closer you come the more you can see that it is dark. but the moment you enter into the room the darkness disappears.


In a Sufi parable, a mystic asked one of his disciples, 'Go out and see whether the sun has risen yet or not!' It is very early, the last phase of the night, and the disciple says, 'There is no need to go. I can see from the windows it is very dark and the sun has not risen yet.' But the master says, 'Then you take a lamp with you and go and look for the sun -- whether it has arisen yet or not. If it is dark then take a lamp.'


The disciple feels very puzzled. The master looks crazy, but he is giving an indication to the disciple. He is not talking about the outside world, he is talking about the inside world. He is saying, 'If it is dark then take the lamp and look, whether it is really dark or not. And the moment you take the lamp it is no more dark.'


The same happens when you become aware. The first thing is that unconsciousness and love are separated.When all the misery that has remained associated with love is no more associated with love. Love becomes purified, a fragrance, and the unconscious starts disappearing because you start becoming more and more conscious of it.


This is the whole process of sannyas. Only two things to be remembered, love and awareness. Love plus awareness is equal to sannyas.


Religions in the past have lived in a very uncreative style. The very orientation of the religions has been uncreative, escapist, life-negative. That's why so many centuries have passed and man is still irreligious (laughter). There are two kinds of irreligious people, those who are honestly irreligious and say so, and those who are not honest enough and go on pretending that they are religious but are not.


It is very rare to come across a person who is religious. In the temples, in the mosques, in the churches, in the synagogues, you will find phony people, pretending to be religious -- they are not. But it is not their fault. They have been conditioned in a wrong way, and each generation goes on conditioning the new generation. That becomes almost a heritage. All the diseases of the older generation become part of the mind of the new generation. This heritage has to be disowned -- only then one becomes a sannyasin.


One has to disown the whole past. One has to learn a totally new style of religiousness. To me life-affirmation, blissfulness, creativity -- these are very fundamental, the very roots of an authentic religious consciousness. And then life certainly becomes a song, a celebration.


The old saints lock so sad and so serious, so dull, so dead, that I would like my people to get rid of all those saints. It is better to be with a sinner who knows how to laugh than to be with a saint who has forgotten how to laugh.


It is better to be an ordinary person but capable of singing and dancing and loving and sharing, than to become closed into a very subtle ego of holier-than-thou.


My sannyasins have to be blissful and they have to create their life in such a way that slowly slowly it starts having the flavour of music, the rhythm of a song, the harmony of a dance. And it is possible It is our birthright. We have been denied and we have been taught wrong things which are functioning like hindrances. They can be immediately removed -- one need not wait for tomorrow. It is only a question of clarity.


Once you are clear about what the impediment is, you either remove it or you by-pass it or you step over it. You need not be hindered by it because it is dead and you are alive and life can always find ways and means. And that's what we are doing here, trying to find out as many ways, as many means as possible, so that all kinds of obstacles can be either removed or by-passed or stepped over.


But once the decision settles in the heart that 'I have to make my life a song, a celebration, a festival of lights,' then nothing can prevent you, then nothing is impossible.


The ultimate truth cannot he conquered. we are too small and it is too vast. moreover we are just part of it and the part cannot conquer the whole. But we can invite. Even the poorest person can invite the richest man. Even a beggar can invite the emperor. And if there is a sincerity, intensity and passion in the invitation, it has never been rejected.


It happened on the last day of Gautam Buddha's life on earth, a very poor man invited him to take his meal at his home. This was the routine way -- Buddha will open his doors early in the morning and whosoever will invite him first, he will accept his invitation for that day. He will go to his house. He used to take only one meal each day. It was almost impossible for a poor person to invite him, it was just accidental.


The king was coming to invite him out just on the way some accident happened and the chariot in which he was coming, broke, so he was delayed. He reached there just one minute late. But by that time Buddha had already accepted the invitation of the poor man.


The king said, 'I know this man. He has been trying his whole life to invite you. Whenever you come to this town'... and Buddha loved a few places very much, Vaishali, one of the cities, was one of the most loved by him. In his whole forty-two years as a master he visited Vaishali at least forty tines, almost every year. And he remained in Vaishali for at least twelve rainy seasons, for the whole rainy season, because in the rainy season he used to stop his journey -- it was too difficult to walk. So for three or four months he would remain in one place; for eight months he would move around.


The king said, 'I know this man, I have seen him many times. He is always trying and he has nothing to offer! Please reject this idea of going to his house.'


But Buddha said, 'That is impossible. I cannot reject the invitation. I have to go.' And he went. And that, very going, became fatal to his body, because in Bihar where Buddha moved... the name 'bihar' comes from Buddha's movements. Bihar means 'the place where a Buddha moved'. This is the boundary where for forty two years he continuously moved. That boundary makes the whole state of Bihar.


Buddha went. The poor men in Bihar collect mushrooms, dry them and keep them for the rainy season. They use them as vegetables. Sometimes mushrooms are poisonous. And he had prepared mushrooms for Buddha -- he had nothing, else, just rice and mushrooms.


Buddha looked at what he offered him, but saying no to the poor man would be hurting him, so he ate those mushrooms. They were very bitter, but to say that will hurt the poor man, so he ate the whole thing without saying anything, thanked the poor man, and came back. He died of food poisoning.


And when he was asked at the last moment, 'Why did you accept? You knew, the king, had warned you, other disciples were warning you that he is so poor, he will not be able to offer you the right food, and you are old, eighty-two years old -- you need the right nourishment -- but you didn't listen.'


Buddha said, 'It was impossible. Whenever truth is invited he has to accept. And he invited me with such passion and love as nobody has ever invited me -- it was worth risking my life!'


This story is beautiful. It is true about the ultimate truth also: all that is needed on our part is a total invitation, not holding back even a small part of our being. If we are totally available, open, ready to receive the host, the host comes. It has never been otherwise.


This is the law of existence: truth cannot be conquered but can be invited. One has to be just a host for the ultimate guest. And that's what I call meditation; it simply makes you empty of all rubbish, it empties you completely so you become spacious, receptive, sensitive, vulnerable, available. And all those qualities make you passionately inviting -- an invitation for the unknown, an invitation for the unnameable, an invitation for that which will make your life a fulfilment, without which life is just an exercise in utter futility. But one cannot do anything more than that; just an invitation and waiting.


This is what I call prayer: invitation and waiting in deep trust that it is going to happen. And it happens, it has always happened! Ais dhammo sanantano, says the Buddha -- this is the ultimate law of existence.
			

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