Love

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Re: Love

Postby profdrfeelgood » Mon Jan 10, 2011 10:18 am


A love story




In the late sixties I hitch hiked from Morocco to India. I had lived in a monastery in the Moroccan Middle Atlas Mountains where I studied the Bible and the Koran as well as reading the works of Eastern religions as Hinduism, Buddhism and the Tao and had to move on. At that stage of my life I was on a pilgrimage to find myself and find the truth, which I realized I was not getting from what the people around me believed, or what was said in the media. I came also to realize that I was, as well as the rest of the world were generally lied to and had to find out for myself what was really going on with in me and all Maya around me.

After months of travel across desolate places and trails in the deserts of Iran, where there were no roads and the burning days of Afghanistan I came to India. After becoming orientated as to where I was I ended up in ashrams of the north in the Himalayas at the beginning of the Ganges River in Rishikesh and Hardwar. There I became a chela and studied Yoga and the Vedanta. After mastering the asanas, which took a considerable time, but as I had done Hartha Yoga before, so it was less strenuous than it had been in the beginning when I started some years before. The evenings were spent in the larger halls were Satsang was conducted. There sat the hierarchy of orange clad gurus. There was the number one guru, number two guru and number three as well as the secretary gurus who generally were greatly subordinate to the other three. They all sat with their backs against a wall facing the groups of chelas or aspirants. One after the other would expound on, or should I say parrot and repeat passages from the Upanishads, Vedanta and the Mahabharata, without much interpretation, which could be interesting if one had not read them before.

There were also so called saints who sat by the edge of the river and spoke golden words; there came many who would hang on every one of them. One fellow translated for me what was being said in Hindi, but to me it sounded like the same stuff all over again. In Hardwar there were thousands of matted long haired Sadus whose bodies were covered in white ash and were mostly showing off how much pain they could induce upon themselves and how much they could smoke, unfortunately there were still no answers to be found there either.

Because I was very flexible and had perfected the Hartha asanas, one orange robed guru said that he could make me into a world famous Yogi. This struck me as rather odd, because as I had understood it yoga was a study of the inner self and to reach Samadhi, loose ego and retire from the world of Maya and things. I eventually found him and the great majority of them as a hierarchy of egos, as one guru was bigger and more famous than the next. As for myself I was getting a bit tired of this holy circus.

In 1970 I related my feelings to someone who had just arrived from the south and he told me about a fellow who had been a professor of philosophy turned guru and was very intelligent and lived in Bombay. I rolled up my sleeping mat and put the few possessions I had into a bag and hitch hiked down to Bombay.

This chap lived in a small book lined apartment near Juhu Beach. I found a small room in the vicinity where I could sleep and read. I visited his place and sat on the floor near his person to better hear what he was saying; he was speaking in English, but in a very soft tone. The people attending his lectures were mainly local intellectual Bombay Indians.

He sat in a large arm chair and spoke. Every evening he expounded on another subject and covered all religions and spiritual paths. One evening he would speak about Zen, the next on Hinduism, the next on Jesus, Paul and Christianity, next on Buddhism, Islam and Sufism, Shinto, Mahavir and Jainism; he even spoke about Nietzsche as well as Sartre and existentialistic philosophy. Each talk was totally enlightening, as he was a master on comparative religions and had a sparkling intellect. In the mornings I would attend, along with others, in the gestalt type exercise cum meditation he called Hu meditation on the sandy shores of Juhu Beach. These were quite accelerating and got the body in a sweat, the heart pumping and filled the lungs full with air. At the end of this hard physical workout one could sit with a totally empty mind and travel deeply into one’s inner self.

I listen to him for months and became a disciple; he gave me, eventually, a new name and called me Swami Anand Abhidharma. My adopted guru’s name was Shree Bhagwan Rajneesh. He was a fellow who appealed to intellectuals as he was self a great one. I asked him about this and said that I had lived in the holy cities of the north, but that I could not find anyone who gave me the answers I was searching for as he did, whereby so many who went and were there were satisfied with these superficial diatribes repeated by all at these ashrams. He told me that in India there is a guru for every stadium a person finds himself on. In that way, he went on; there are millions of gurus who can tell you exactly what you wish to hear.

Rajneesh spoke about the mind and the thoughts as well as sex and its primordial forces which could be channelled, in a Tantric fashion to wake the Kundalini, to achieve higher vibrations of that force.

He did say something one evening which I found quite extraordinary as well as freeing. You people, he said, come here because you are looking for something and you are banging your heads against a wall because you suspect that there is something on the other side of that wall; but the only thing you are getting are headaches. All I can do for you is to show you the door so that you may enter into the other side, instead of breaking the wall down. The thing you must remember is that I am only the doorman and I am not on the other side; it is only you and your self you will find there and you will be alone with who ever you are. This was the most freeing thing I had ever heard. Most religions and teachers of such want to keep hold of you on every level and fill you with all kinds of insecurities and anxieties. He did not; he said you have to let go and find yourself. The next evening I thanked him greatly and went on my way.

A few years later, when I returned to India I went to Pune where he had moved to after his humble beginnings in Bombay. This was now the Rajneesh Foundation and he had a multitude of followers, mostly Westerners and the lectures were now conducted in the mornings.

I sat on the floor in the back in an covered open air pavilion, as all around him were seated orange clad middle aged American women shoulder to shoulder trying to get as close to his person as possible. While he spoke he looked around at the crowed and spotted me and caught my eye, he raised his eyebrow and nodded his head and I did the same, as he had recognized after this time in the group.

He started talking about the light of a candle. He asked if one has ever noticed a flame on a candle. There is the main source of the light which is brilliant, but just around the flame is darkness, almost black. It is first when there is a distance one can see the effect and receive the benefit of the light.
I found this very revealing as to the situation he now found himself in.

I made an appointment to see him with his secretary and was granted one as I was one of his early disciples. When I met him in his rooms later that afternoon, he was dressed in a long kaftan of the finest thick silk one could imagine with cufflinks of gold with a diamond on each cufflink the size of the tip of my index finger. This was quite a difference from his beginnings in Bombay where he wore a kurta, a cotton sarong and a pair of rubber thronged flip flops on his feet.

I remarked that he now had a large following that were, as it seemed, to be hanging on him. So many people need a father figure and are lost without one. He replied.

I thanked him for the enlightenment and the freedom he had given me the years before and related how it had changed my life, as well as a new found objectivity and understanding, which had become the basis for my research of the self and its relation to the outer world.

I bowed down on my hands and knees and kissed his feet with the love and respect I felt I owed him and said Namaste and good bye.

He was now a movie star and soon to be a super pop star. It was here I got off the boat and where most of the people got on, because now he was popular and mainstream. Later he changed his name to Osho, which sounds more Zen and left Rajneesh in the dust. More power to him as he also had to go through a metamorphous, loose his skin and change the clothing when going for one level to the next. He went off to do his thing and I, in the end, went off to do mine.
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Prof. Dr. Feelgood
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Re: Love

Postby mirjana » Tue Jan 11, 2011 6:23 pm

Thank you very much for sharing this beautiful story with us. I enjoyed reading it very much. I like your title as it corresponds to the story . Your life path has been blessed with meeting Rajneesh so early in your life and in that phase of his. And you obviously recognized the sign and made the best of it. Great for you.
I belong to those who are greatly affected by his teaching and his approach to life, although I haven´t had such a rare opportunity to meet him in person and specially not in that phase of his life as you.
The fact that he changed his style over the years actually hasn´t changed his teaching and his speeches are a kind of a treasure for the soul.
Each time when reading something from him or watching some of many of his video I learn something new that opens my life further encouraging me to be more aware of that who am I and to make the best of it.
I have already ask you about your books but I haven´t got any answer so far. I like the way you write and was curious about your books.
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Re: Love

Postby profdrfeelgood » Wed Jan 12, 2011 10:32 am

www.dinomundo.com
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Re: Love

Postby mirjana » Tue Nov 22, 2011 11:58 pm

I came across this interview when Osho answered the question about Gibran and Love.
Osho on Kahlil Gibran
Question - Beloved Master, Over the past ten years I am again and again reminded of the
words of Kahlil Gibran: "Man cannot reap love until after sad and revealing separation and bitter patience and desperate hardship." Please comment.

Osho - It is true about Kahlil Gibran, but not true about love. Kahlil Gibran suffered much despair, anguish. He was not what you find him in his immensely important books, THE PROPHET, THE GARDEN OF THE PROPHET, and JESUS, THE SON OF MAN. Kahlil Gibran was just the opposite.

And that is true about almost all the so-called great artists, painters, poets, sculptors, musicians, dancers. They are trying to fulfill their unfulfilled life in writing poetry, literature. That literature simply signifies their dream, not their reality.

Never meet any man like Kahlil Gibran. Read his book, THE PROPHET -- it is immensely beautiful -- but avoid Kahlil Gibran himself, because you will be very much disappointed, for the simple reason that you cannot believe that this man has produced one of the classics of the whole of history. His book stands like an Everest, but he himself lies deep down in the dark valley of despair, existential meaninglessness: angry about life, angry with life, angry about everything. And the reason is simple. It is a psychological truth that whatever you miss in your life, you fulfill in your dreams. Your dreams show what you are missing in your life.

You can try small experiments and you will be able to see it. Just fast one day, and in the night you can be certain of having a great feast in your dreams -- all delicious foods, perhaps an invitation from the king, or the president in the White House. Your dream shows that during the day you have been hungry. These creative people are able to put their dreams into their writings -- but they are their dreams.

So what Kahlil Gibran says about love is the experience of a man who wanted to love but could not love. He could not love because of his ego. The first need of love is that you should put aside your ego; and artists, poets, painters, musicians, are very egoistic people.

Kahlil Gibran could not put his ego aside. It was not love that became his despair, it was his ego that would not allow him freedom to move into the world of love. He was chained. The longing for love and being chained to the ego created the whole tension, the anguish of his life. He has to be pitied. He is certainly one of the greatest geniuses of this century, but that does not make him a great lover. The very fact that he was a great genius helped him to go on nourishing his ego. He never could become innocent like a child -- of which he talks again and again in his writings. That is his dream.

So remember, while you are reading books written by unenlightened people, looking at paintings, sculpture, architecture made by unenlightened people, beware. These people were not blissful people themselves. They were capable of projecting their dreams, but they were not able to transform their dreams into a living reality within their own being. They were utter failures as far as their own being is concerned.

Love does not need you to go into depression, despair, no -- just the opposite. Love needs you to go into silence, into peace, into meditativeness, into a tremendous rejoicing -- rejoicing just in the fact that you are alive. And out of this rejoicing, this dance, love radiates.

According to Kahlil Gibran's statement, before you reach love you have to pass through hell. Strange training... a great school to teach love! And a man who has been in despair, depression, anguish, anxiety, will become farther and farther away from love.

No, if you want to experience love you have to pass through your inner paradise. You have to become centered, you have to become so peaceful that small things of life make you dance. Just a roseflower dancing in the wind, in the rain, in the sun -- and something in you starts dancing with it. You are ready. You have graduated from the school of paradise; now love is your reward.

So I contradict Kahlil Gibran absolutely and categorically, because it goes against my existential experience. I have been through my own paradise, and after that only the fragrance of love remains. You are so blissful that you would like to bless the whole world.

Kahlil Gibran is absolutely wrong. But what he is saying is his own experience, and he never graduated from hell. He never could manage to be a loving human being. He was always sad, always a long face, always angry -- as if he was against existence itself, as if he wanted to ask existence, "Why have you chosen me to be born and suffer?"

If you want to write poetry about love, follow Kahlil Gibran.
If you want to experience love, then listen carefully to what I am saying to you.

Source - Osho Book "From Bondage to Freedom"


Your thoughts...?
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Re: Love

Postby blackfellawhitefella » Wed Nov 23, 2011 12:30 am

Who is actually 'still' playing the game of right and wrong ?
... that's the thought i'm left with.

Good luck with that Osho.
relax, connect, allow.
repeat process.
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Re: Love

Postby mirjana » Tue Dec 27, 2011 7:11 pm

This is a very interewsting thought about LOVE

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