A young child died; the father of the child had already died and the woman was living only for this child. That child was her whole life and her only hope; otherwise, there was nothing for her to live for. And the child died - she was almost on the verge of going crazy. She wouldn't allow anyone to take the child to the crematorium. She was hugging the child in the hope that perhaps he might start breathing again. She was ready to give her own life if the child could live.
Buddha chose for his sannyasins the yellow robe. Yellow represents death, the yellow leaf. Yellow represents the setting sun, the evening. Buddha emphasized death, and it helps in a way. People become more and more aware of life in contrast to death. When you emphasize death again and again and again, you help people to awaken; they have to be awake because death is coming. Whenever Buddha would initiate a new sannyasin, he would tell him, "Go to the cemetery: just be there and watch funeral pyres, dead bodies being carried and burned... go on watching.
Look at yourself and contemplate life. There is birth and death, growth and decay; there is combination and separation. The glory of the world is like a flower: it stands in full bloom in the morning and fades in the heat of the day. Wherever you look, there is a rushing and a struggling, and an eager pursuit of pleasure. There is a panic flight from pain and death, and hot are the flames of burning desires. The world is Vanity Fair, full of changes and transformations.
Consider your life; don’t you think it’s too short? Don’t you have trouble believing the speed with which things pass? One moment you are in high school worrying about which college to attend, and almost the next thing you know you’re a full-fledged adult with adult concerns, belief systems, responsibilities, and travails. How does this happen? Is it really true that each of us will grow up, mature, grow old and die? Sometimes it seems so inconceivable that we choose not to think about it, but we become wiser when we accept the tenuous, short-lived nature of life.
Somehow I draw my enemies to me:
They harm me, but my karma brings them here.
So they go to hell because of me.
I'm the one who sends them to their doom.
- Bodhicharyavatara 6.47
No question, finding compassion for our enemies is hugely difficult. It takes at least a lifetime of practice to approach this goal. Shantideva's words help me because they highlight the deep irony of harm: We are our enemies' enemy.
ALWAYS the Buddha spoke of two ways of life—one being the ordinary thoughtless course in which people seek happiness through various pleasures, always hoping that they can obtain conditions which will give them satisfaction, the other being called the Path (as distinguished from the former, which is wandering about), a progressive determination to cease such seeking for pleasure in material things. There is no travelling on this Path, it is stated, for one is not going from one place to another, or even from one mental condition to another.
Ananda, Buddha’s closest disciple, lived with Buddha for forty years – and he lived like a shadow. He never left Buddha for a single moment, not even in the night; he would sleep in the same room where Buddha used to sleep. No other disciple lived so close to Buddha as Ananda. But because he was so close he started taking Buddha for granted. He was so close, he started forgetting Buddha. He was so close that he never tried what Buddha was saying. And the day came when Buddha dropped his body…
Life can be lived in a poetic way –should be lived in a poetic way. Life should not be reduced to any utility. Society has been doing that, down the ages – reducing people to utilitarian commodities. But they talk as if they are saying it out of great love. But always remember Jesus: “Man cannot live by bread alone.” You should not become just a bread-producer, a bread earner. Bread is needed, but bread is needed only so that you can sing a song. The bread is needed for the song, the song is not needed for the bread – the bread is a means, it is not an end.
People often ponder over this question that “Is there life after death?” Osho does not give an answer. He counter-questions: Is there life before death? And even if we know what lies beyond death, will we gain anything?
This is a short story about Buddha that when he reached the gate of Nirvana, the gates were thrown open. Rarely does it happen – millions of years pass before a person comes to the gate. For millions of years the gatekeeper was just waiting and waiting for somebody to come. Rust must have gathered on the gate, it had not been opened for so long, for so many million years. The gatekeeper was happy, he opened the door. But Buddha didn’t enter the gate. The gatekeeper asked, “Why are you standing outside?