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| | | Book Name: Zen - The Solitary Bird, Cuckoo of the Forest | Previous Next | |
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NIGHT I BENT MY POINTING FINGER --
NEVER SUCH A MOON!
SEARCHING HIM TOOK MY STRENGTH. I have searched so much -- I am tired, it has taken all my strength. But one night it happened and it happened in a strange situation:
ONE NIGHT I BENT MY POINTING FINGER --
NEVER SUCH A MOON!
My bent finger pointed to the moon, to myself. The moon is the symbol -- the symbol of your eternity, of your beauty, of your blissfulness.
And Buson wrote:
SUCH A MOON --
THE THIEF PAUSES TO SING.
The thief is always afraid. He moves very cautiously. But SUCH A MOON! THE THIEF PAUSES TO SING. The thief forgets that he is a thief, and he becomes a singer.
Every moment is ready to open its doors. If you are willing to relax into non-doing, if you are willing to relax into no effort, if you are ready to put the mind aside and just be, you will also explode in a song.
Question 1
Maneesha has asked:
BELOVED OSHO, KING OF THE NIGHT,
IT SEEMS THAT ZEN MONKS, POETS, AND MASTERS WERE ALMOST AS MOONSTRUCK AS WE ARE -- THE SINGING CUCKOOS AND GIBBERING LUNATICS WHO SURROUND YOU!
WOULD YOU PLEASE COMMENT?
Maneesha, it is such an existential fact, it needs no comment. It is true. I attract only lunatics, all kinds of crazy people, unfits. Do you hear Sardar Gurudayal Singh? A perfect lunatic! And soon, when we enter into our meditation, you will see: five thousand lunatics can create fifty thousand's worth of lunacy. Anybody hearing you in your meditation cannot sleep in the night. He has seen the worst thing in life. He will never cross this road again -- one never knows, these people may be doing their meditation!
But before we start, making the whole world shake with your gibberish ... thousands of languages, most of them non-existent. No grammar, and everybody is speaking in somebody else's language. But such a great joy, such a great freedom to say what has been moving in your head.
And do you see, after that, what a great silence descends on you? Before the silence descends on you, a few laughs for the silent, solitary cuckoo, hiding in the bamboo trees.
A sudden
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