Words, be they from anybody, do not convey Truth. But if words delete words; if words are erased; and if the mind is emptied so that words have no hold on it, then of itself the mind attains Truth; for Truth is nowhere outside. It is within each one of us. Once the mind gives up its habit of Looking outward, Truth is not difficult to attain. As long as we look to gurus, we look outside; as long as we hold on to shastras, we are looking outward. As long as we cling to the cognition of other’s words, that which is attained in the No-Word, silent states remains unknown. 

A poet once went to the seashore. It was early morning: The sun’s cool radiance filled the sky. The breeze came with a touch of the waves. The joy of the scene filled the poet’s heart too. Delighted he began to dance. Oh the bliss, the joy!... but his thoughts went back to his beloved, lying in in a hospital. How he wished that she were here beside him to share this beautiful morning! He was a poet, so the scene affected him more. Tears welled up in his eyes but soon he wiped them away. ”What if I filled a casket with this beautiful morning and sent it to her?” 

He brought a box and lovingly opened its lid to the wafting breeze and the dancing rays. He then sealed it with care and sent it to his beloved, explaining to her how much he had missed her in those lovely surroundings, but that he was sending them to her in a box. The letter reached: so did the box but when she opened it there were no rays of the sun, no cool breeze, no glory of the morning that her lover had described. It was only an empty box.

What is at the seashore cannot be carried in a box; and also there is no way to fill the experience of the Ocean of Truth in the chest of words. Only words, blank and empty, remain. That which was experienced at the seashore is left far behind. Those who reach the shores of Truth, they too, long to convey the joy of their experience to those they love; so that those who could not come that far may also get a glimpse of that wonderful experience. They fill their chests with words and send them to us. The Geeta, the Bible, the Koran reach us; but that which they tried to send, remains far behind. Their compassion is unquestionable but their words fail to convey Truth. Words have never been adequate. If the beloved had held the box to her bosom and danced, we would have called her insane; but if she had caught the meaning behind the box, she would have run to the seashore. Then she would have partaken of the joy of the dancing waves and the cool breeze. But this is possible only if after getting the message, she is willing to cast the casket aside and set out towards the place from where something was attempted to be conveyed.

Those that likewise cast the shastras aside and proceed towards the source of the shastras, find themselves one day, at the shores of the Ocean of Truth. But we are such fools – we made a fanfare of the Geeta and are completely oblivious of the source from where Krishna sent the message of the Geeta. So also, have we done with the Bible and the Koran.

If Krishna and Christ, Mahavira and Buddha, happen to look at us, they will shed tears of anguish. They will say: ”We tried to send them a whiff of the sea-breeze but they have clung to the words of our message and remained where they were!” If they had their way, they would snatch all the books and throw them into the sea. But even if Krishna were to snatch the Geeta away from us, we would catch him by the neck – for what have we besides the Geeta?

Osho: The Beginning of the Beginning

painting credit: Claudette Dean