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I have nothing to do with it -- that is your idea. But when you come to me, I am here, and then suddenly your imaginary ideas are no more relevant: You come with a dream in your mind. My reality will destroy the dream.
Remember to change your consciousness from the imaginary to the real. Always listen to the real. Unless you are very, very alert, you will remain in the trap of the imaginary.
The imaginary seems to be very satisfying for many reasons: it is under your control. You can have Osho's nose as long as you want -- in you imagination. You can think whatsoever you want to think. Nobody can hinder it, nobody can enter into your imagination; you are utterly free. You can paint me as you want, you can imagine me, you can expect... you can make whatsoever you want of me -- you are free; the ego feels very good.
That's why when a Master is dead he finds more disciples than while he is alive. With a dead Master, disciples are completely at ease; with a living Master, they are in difficulty. Buddha never had so many disciples as he has now, after twenty-five centuries. Jesus had only twelve disciples -- now, half of the earth. Just see the impact of the absent Master: now Jesus is in your hands -- you can do whatsoever you want to do with him. He is no more alive; he cannot destroy your dreams and imaginations. If the so-called Christians had seen the real Jesus, their hearts would stop fluttering immediately. Why? -- because they would not believe; they have imagined things. And Jesus is a real man. You could have found him in a pub, drinking with friends and gossiping. Now this doesn't look like the 'only begotten son of God', it looks very ordinary. Maybe he is just the carpenter Joseph's son. But once Jesus is gone, then he cannot interfere with your imagination. Then you can picture and paint and create images of him as you like.
Far away it is easier -- the imagination has full power. The closer you come to me, the less and less power will your imagination have. And you will never be able to see me unless you drop your imagination. So is the case with all other pleasures.
THE STIRRING OF BIOTIC FORCES IN THE HOUSE OF NOTHINGNESS
HAS
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