Послания любви. 365 писем Ошо - Раджниш Бхагаван Шри "Ошо". Страница 5
though even a single day’s delay is no small delay!
What shall I say about the return journey?
It was very blissful.
I kept sleeping, and you were with me.
It appeared I had left you behind
but actually you were still with me.
This is the being-together that is so real
that it cannot be divided.
Physical nearness is not nearness,
there can be no union on that level,
only an unbridgeable gulf,
but there is another nearness which is not of the body,
and its name is love.
Once gained it is never lost.
Then no separation exists
despite vast distances in the visible world.
If you can arrive at this distancelessness
with even one other it can be found with everybody.
One is the door, the all, the goal.
The beginning of love is through one, the end is all.
The love that unites you with everything,
with nothing excluded, I call religion,
and the love that stops anywhere I call sin.
32. Love.
I received your letter;
I have been waiting for it ever since I returned.
But how sweet it is to wait!
Life itself is a waiting!
Seeds wait to sprout,
rivers to reach the ocean.
What does man wait for?
He too is the seed for some tree,
a river for some ocean.
Whoever looks deep inside
finds that a longing for the endless and boundless
is his very being.
And whoever recognizes this
begins his journey towards God
because who can be thirsty and not look for water?
This has never happened and never will!
Where there is longing,
there is thirst for attainment.
I want to make everyone aware of this thirst.
I want to convert everyone’s life into a waiting.
The life that has turned into a waiting for God
is the true life.
All other ways of life are just a waste, a disaster.
33. Love.
I received your letter.
Its poetry filled my heart.
It is said that poetry is born out of love.
In your letter I saw this happen.
Where there is love
the whole existence becomes a poem;
the flowers of life bloom under the light of love.
It is strange that you ask
why my heart holds so much love for you.
Can love ever be caused?
If it is,
can it be called love?
Oh, my mad friend! love is always uncaused!
This is its mystery,
and its purity.
Love is divine
and belongs to the kingdom of God
because it is uncaused.
As for me
l am filled with love
as a lamp is filled with light.
To see this light one needs eyes.
You have those eyes so you saw the light.
The credit is yours, not mine.
34. Love.
I never imagined that you would write
such a loving letter!
And you say that you are uneducated!
There is no knowledge greater than love,
and those who lack love – these are the true illiterates,
because the heart is the real thing in life,
not the intellect.
Bliss and light spring from the heart,
not from the mind, and you have so much heart – that is enough!
Can there be a better witness of this than me?
I am surprised that you write asking me
to point out any mistakes you have made.
So far on earth, love has not made one mistake.
All mistakes happen through lack of love,
in fact this for me is the only mistake in life.
Writing to you: May God make you envious of me
was no mistake.
I would like the bliss that has arisen in my heart
to make you thirst for it more and more.
Queen of Mewal!
there is no reason for you to worry about it!
35. Love.
It was just this time of night, two days ago
that I left you at Chittor.
I can see now
the love and bliss filling your eyes.
The secret of all prayer and worship
is hidden in the overflow of those tears.
They are sacred.
God fills the heart of those he blesses
with tears of love,
and what to say about the calamity of those
whose hearts are filled instead with thorns of hate?
Tears flowing in love
are offerings of flowers at the feet of God
and the eyes from which they flow
are blessed with divine vision.
Only eyes filled with love can see God.
Love is the only energy
that transcends the inertia of nature
and takes one to the shores of ultimate awareness.
I think that by the time this letter reaches you
you will already have left for Kashidham.
I don’t know how your journey was
but I hope it passed in song and laughter.
Give my kind respects to everyone there.
I am waiting for your promised letters.
1966
36. Love.
I was very happy to meet you the other day.
I felt the stirrings of your heart and the longing of your soul.
You have not yet flowered as you were born to:
the seed is ready to sprout and the soil is right.
You will not have long to wait.
But now you have to work with great determination.
It is only a matter of starting the journey,
God’s gravitational pull does the rest.
37. Love.
It is good that you are forgetting the past –
it will open up an altogether new dimension of life.
To live completely in the present is freedom.
The past does not exist apart from memory
and nor does the future apart from castles in the air.
What is, is always present,
and if you start living unreservedly in the present
you live in God.
Once you are free of past and future
the mind turns empty and peaceful,
its waves die down
and what is left is limitless, endless.
This is the ocean of truth –
and may your river reach it!
P.S. I shall probably go to Ahmedabad in January,
can you come with me?
It would be good if we traveled together for a few days.
38. Love.
I am glad to see such thirst for God!
To have this thirst is a divine blessing;
where there is thirst – there the way is.
In fact, intense longing becomes the way.
God is summoning us at every moment
but because the strings of our heart are slack
we don’t echo his call.
If our eyes are closed then even if the sun is at the door
we will be in darkness;
and the sun is always at the door –
we only have to open our eyes and let it in, that’s all!
May God give you light, that’s my wish.
My love and I are always with you.
Regards to the family and love to the children.
39. Love.
I have your letter.
The wheel of the world keeps spinning
but why spin with it?
See what is behind body and mind;
that has never moved,
is not moving,
can never move,
and thou art that, tat tvam asi.
Waves lie on the surface of this ocean
but in its depths – what is there?
When the waves are taken for the ocean
it is a terrible mistake.
Look at the wheel of a bullock cart:
the wheel turns because the axle does not;
so remember your own axle,
standing, sitting, asleep or awake,
keep it in mind.
By and by, one begins to encounter
the changeless behind all change.
You have asked me about the poem.
I had a little piece read out by someone,
then it came to me: I should hear it from you yourself!
Now when you read it out to me I shall listen –