OSHO and Death
IT IS ONE THING TO REALIZE COSMIC CONSCIOUSNESS ON EARTH, AND TRANSCEND BODY. BUT HOW DO REALIZED ONES KNOW FOR SURE THAT THIS CONSCIOUSNESS IS ETERNAL AND WILL REMAIN AFTER THE DEATH OF THE BODY?
The first thing is they don’t bother about it. They are not worried about whether it will remain or not. It is you who are worried. They don’t think of the next moment.
The next life is just irrelevant; even the next day, the next moment, is not a point of concern. It is you who always ask about something in the future, something of the future. Why?
Because your present is just empty, your present is just nothing, your present is just
rotten, your present is such a suffering that you can tolerate it only if you go on thinking
of the future and the paradise and the life ahead.
Just here now there is no life so you pitch your mind into the future just to escape from the present, the ugly present. One who is realized is here and now, totally alive. All that can happen has happened. There is no future to it. Whether death is going to kill him or not is not a concern at all. It is the same.
Whether he disappears or remains, it makes no difference. This moment is so rich, so absolutely rich, this moment is so intense, that his whole being is here and now.
Anand asked Buddha again and again, “What will happen to you when your body dies?”
And Buddha insisted again and again, “Anand, why are you so concerned about the
future? Why don’t you look at me, at what is happening now?” But again, after a few
days, he will ask, “What happens to an enlightened one when his body dies?” He is afraid about himself.
He is afraid. He knows that when the body dies there is no possibility of reviving it, there is no possibility of remaining, there is no possibility of being. And he has not attained anything.
The light will just go out—it has been a futile thing. If that happens without his attaining anything, he will simply disappear. So the whole thing was meaningless, the whole suffering was meaningless, leading nowhere.
He was concerned; he wanted to know if something survives after the body. But Buddha says, “I am here and now. What will happen in the future is not a concern at all.”
So the first thing is that a realized one is not bothered. That is one of the signs of a
realized one—he is not bothered by the future.
And the second thing—you asked, how does he know for sure? Knowledge is always sure. Certainty is inherent, intrinsic, to knowledge. You have a headache. Can I ask you, “How can you say for sure that you have a headache?” You will say, “I know.” I can ask, “But how are you sure that your knowledge is right and not wrong?” But no one asks such nonsensical questions. When the headache is there, it is there—you know it.
Knowledge is intrinsically certain. When one is enlightened, he knows he is enlightened;
he knows that he is not this body; he knows that inside he is just a vast space. And space cannot die. Things can die, space cannot die.
Just think about this room.
We can destroy this building, this “Woodlands”, but we cannot destroy the roominess in this room. Can you destroy it? The walls can be destroyed, but we are sitting here in this roominess, space. The walls can be destroyed, but how can you destroy this room—not the walls, the space here? The whole of “Woodlands” may disappear—it will disappear one day—but this space will remain.
Your body will disappear and because you don’t know the inner space, you are afraid. You want to know it for sure. But an enlightened man knows that he is the space—not the body, not the walls, but the inner space. The walls will drop, they have dropped many times, but the inner space will remain. It is something he has to find proofs for, it is his immediate knowledge. He knows it, that’s all.
Knowledge is intrinsically certain.
If your knowledge is uncertain, then remember it is not knowledge. People come to me and they say, “Our meditation is going very well. We are feeling very happy.” And then suddenly they ask me, “What do you say about it? Is our happiness really there? Are we really happy?” They ask me! They are not certain about their happiness. What type of knowledge is this? They are simply pretending. But they cannot deceive themselves.
They are thinking, they are hoping, they are wishing—but they are not happy. Otherwise what is the need to ask me? I will never go to ask anybody whether I am happy or not.
Why should I? If I am happy, I am happy. If I am not, I am not. Who else can give proof of it? If I cannot be a witness, who will be a witness for me, and how can the other be a witness? So sometimes I play games. Sometimes I say, “Yes, you are happy. You are absolutely happy.” And they become more happy just by hearing me. And sometimes I say, “No, you don’t show anything. There is no indication. You are not happy.
You must have been dreaming.” And they drop, their happiness disappears, they become sad. What type of happiness is this? Just by saying that you are happy it increases; and just by saying that you are not, it disappears! They are just trying to be happy but they are not.
This is not knowledge, this is just wish-fulfillment. They hope, and they think they can deceive themselves. By thinking that they are happy, believing that they are happy, finding some proof, finding some certificate from somewhere that they are happy, they think that they will create happiness. It is not so easy.
When something happens in the inner world, you know it has happened. You don’t need any certificate, you don’t need one! The very search for someone to approve is childish. It shows that you long for happiness, but you have not attained it.
You don’t know it. It has not happened to you.
One who has realized is always certain, and when I say certain, sure, absolutely sure, I
don’t mean that he feels some uncertainty somewhere, and against that uncertainty he
He is simply certain. There is no question of uncertainty. I am alive. Am I certain about
it, sure about it? There is no question. There is no question of certainty. It is absolutely
certain. It does not have to be decided. I am alive.
Socrates was dying and someone asked him, “Socrates, you are dying so easily, so happily. What is the matter? Are you not afraid? Are you not scared?” Socrates said a very beautiful thing. He said, “Only two things are possible after I am dead: either I will be or I will not be. If I am not, then there is no question.
No one is there to know it, to know that ‘I am not’. The whole thing simply disappears. And if I am there, then there is no question -- ‘I am’. Only two are the possibilities: either I will be, or I will not be, and both are okay. If I am, then the whole thing continues. If I am not, then there is no one to know, so why be worried?”
He is not an enlightened one, but he is a very wise man. Remember, this is the difference between a wise one and an enlightened one.
A wise one thinks deeply, penetrates intellectually into everything, and comes to a conclusion. He is a very wise man. He says that there are two alternatives. Logically he penetrates into the phenomenon of death:“only two are the possibilities: either I simply disappear, I am no more; or I will remain.”
Is there any third alternative? There is no third alternative.
So Socrates says, “I have thought about both. If I remain, then there is no question to be worried about. If I am no more, there is no one to worry. So why be worried now? I will see what happens.” He is not in the know, he doesn’t know what is going to happen, but he has thought about it wisely.
He is not a Buddha, he is the keenest intellectual possible.
But if you can become wise—not enlightened, because enlightenment is neither wisdom nor ignorance, the duality has been transcended—even if you can become wise, you will feel relaxed; even if you can become wise, you can feel very contented.
But wisdom is not the goal of Tantra or yoga. Tantra and yoga aim for the superhuman, the point where wisdom and ignorance are both transcended: where one simply knows and does not think, where one simply looks and is aware.