Sufism, Vol. 1 The Perfect Master Chapter 2: There is Communion, Question 3

The third question:

Question 3

MY BECOMING A SANNYASIN HAS CREATED A GREAT STIR IN MY COMMUNITY. THEY THINK THAT I HAVE GONE CRAZY, ALTHOUGH I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY AND BLISSFUL AS I AM NOW. OSHO, WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING ABOUT IT?

THEY ARE RIGHT! YOU HAVE GONE CRAZY. They have a certain idea of what sanity is. Because of that idea, they cannot say that you are sane. If you are sane, then they are insane. That idea can allow sanity to only one: either to them or to you. And who is willing to lose his own sanity?

They said the same thing to Jesus, "You are mad." They said the same thing to Socrates, "You are mad." They say the same thing to me, that I am mad. They will say the same thing to you, that you are mad. They are not really saying anything about you; they are simply saying that your presence creates a disturbance in them. Your very presence makes them suspicious of their sanity.

And, naturally, the suspicion becomes very very strong because you are joyful and you are happy and you are celebrating and they are miserable. Sanity should give people joy. It has not given them joy. They become suspicious, doubtful. Whenever they come across a person who is really joyous, they become suspicious of their whole life-style: "Is there something wrong in it?" And, naturally, to defend their life-style they have to say to you that you are wrong. That is their defense measure. Don't be angry at them, just understand their problem.

Their problem is that their whole way of life is at stake because of your presence. They will call you mad. And if it becomes too difficult for them to tolerate your presence, they will murder you. They did that to Jesus. They have been doing that to thousands of mystics down the ages. And I am trying my best to transform you into a mystic.

This sannyas is no ordinary phenomenon. It is a quantum leap into the mysteries of life. And, of course, I am giving you a totally different vision. They are bound to react. And they will be hard with you.

I remember an old story of a college professor named A2:

A2 lived in Flat Land. Everything in Flat Land had just two dimensions, height and breadth. Nothing had depth. If a friend turned sideways, you couldn't see him. People lived in flat houses, ate flat meals, drank flat cokes, thought flat thoughts, and lived flat lives.

A2 taught higher mathematics at the university. One night, he threw a party for some of his friends. Upstairs his precocious little son, Pentagon, tried to sleep. As he tossed on his bed, he began to dream. He dreamt a dream no one had dreamt before. Suddenly, Pentagon dreamt that everything had not only height and breadth, but depth! Houses and trees and especially girls looked so different. He felt different. Life took on a whole new scope. This new dimension affected the way people thought and acted. Then, as unexpectedly as it had started, the dream ended.

Pentagon couldn't keep a dream like that locked up inside himself. His bare feet hit the floor and carried him downstairs right into the middle of his father's party. There he stood in his rumpled pajamas pouring out a dream of an unheard-of dimension of life. Pentagon tried to explain what depth looked like and felt like. People didn't have to go on living flat little lives and thinking flat little thoughts. They could sink their roots down into a whole new dimension of depth.

A2 couldn't hide his embarrassment. Nor could he shut Pentagon up. The party ended in a shambles. Far into the night A2 tried to reason with his son, but Pentagon stamped his foot and kept saying that another dimension of life existed.

The next morning, Pentagon talked to anybody who would listen. People thought the poor boy had lost touch with reality. So for the sake of his sanity and theirs, they locked him up .

People ARE living in a flat land. They have lost the dimension of depth. And that dimension is God! I am teaching you depth here. And once you start living in depth, you will be constantly in trouble -- trouble from the people. You will be utterly happy inside yourself, immensely happy, as you have never been before. Your life will become richer and richer every moment. You will know things as you have never known them. The whole existence will turn psychedelic. Trees will be greener and roses will be rosier, and for the first time you will sing the songs of the birds. And for the first time you will see in what a wonderland you have always been living with closed eyes. Your life will become a dance, a song will explode in your being.

But from the outside, from the herd, from the crowd, there will be shouts. They will say that you have gone mad, that you are crazy. This is not the way to be! To dance, to sing, with such abandon? To love, to live, with such abandon? This is not allowed. This is against the rules of the game. One has to be serious and sad, and one has to be a long face. At least saints are not expected to dance, or sing, or be joyous, Saints have to be dead men.

By becoming a sannyasin you have entered into a new vision. That vision will be constantly in a world which is not supporting it, which cannot support it. You will not be supported by the people. You will be colliding with them. So you have to learn one thing: when you are with people, don't be too joyous. Keep it in. And don't try to talk about the dimension of depth -- unless somebody is willing to hear it. ACT as if you are sad. ACT as if you are a long face. ACT that you are a dead saint. Avoid people.When you want to dance, dance alone.

And this is not a new teaching I am giving to you. Sufis have always said it, that when you pray, pray when you are alone. Nobody should hear it, nobody should know about it. Not even your wife! In the middle of the night, wake up and bow down in immense joy, delight. Don't let the woman know, because she will talk to the neighbors tomorrow and the thing will go around, exaggerated in many ways. And you will be in trouble.

These people are living a very sad life, neurotic, not healthy at all, pathological. So when somebody turns to being healthy, he has to be very alert.

One of my friends became mad once. He was caught by the police -- the story is old, before India was divided -- and he was kept in a prison in Lahore. He was imprisoned there for nine months. After six months, just an accident... but he became sane. He was mad and he found a tin of phenol, so he drank it. The tin must have come for the bathrooms. He found it in the bathroom and he was mad so he drank it.

It gave him great nausea, naturally. For fifteen days he had diarrhea, vomiting, but that diarrhea and vomiting cured him of his madness. Maybe it was a good catharsis; all the poisons in the body were thrown out. And after fifteen days, when he became healthy again and the nausea disappeared and the diarrhea disappeared, he was perfectly sane. Then the trouble started.

For six months he had lived amongst twelve hundred mad people, and there was no problem because he was also mad. Now he was sane, and twelve hundred mad people... think of him! Somebody is pulling his leg, somebody is trying to sit on his head -- and he is sane! They were doing this for six months, but then he was insane himself, so there was no problem in it. It was accepted It was exactly as things should be.

He went to the superintendent and he said, "Now it is difficult -- I am sane now." But the superintendent wouldn't listen because he said, "They ALL say that they are sane -- all mad people say that they are being tortured unnecessarily. They are sane!'? Each mad person thinks that he is the sanest person in the world. In fact, psychologists say: The day an insane person thinks he is insane, he is already sane -- because insane people never think that they are insane. So nobody would listen to him.

Those three months, he was telling me, were such a hell that he started praying to God "Make me mad again!"

To live with these mad people, even for three months, one needs to be mad.

You are living with a certain kind of world, a flat world, joyless, depth less, superficial. People's lives are just trivial. They live for money or for power, prestige -- which are all meaningless. In the ultimate reckoning they carry no weight. Death comes and all money and all power and all prestige disappear -- and you are thrown to the dustbin. Nobody ever remembers you again. You may have been a prime minister or a president of a country -- nobody cares a bit. You may have been the richest man in the world, but death is very communistic.Whether you are a beggar or a rich man, death treats everyone equally. It comes and destroys all, without any exception.

People are living in a flat world. So when you start moving into the dimension of depth, you have to be a little alert -- otherwise you will be in trouble from the outside. The inner joy will grow, and as it grows, the outer conflict will grow proportionately. So unless you enjoy that conflict, act as if nothing has happened to you. Only share your joy with those who understand.

That's why sat sang is immensely valuable. You can share your joy with other orange people. They will understand. They will be happy. They will be joyous through your joy. They will SEE what has happened to you. But don't go on sharing it with those who don't understand -- unless you enjoy it. If you enjoy it, then it is perfectly okay.

A saint once heard about the evil city of Sodom. Being a saint, he went to the city with love and concern for its people.When he saw wickedness all about him, he began to preach and plead and protest daily.

After many years of this, a friend asked, "Why all the bother? You have not changed them a bit!"

The saint replied, "In this city of madness and sin, I must go out to shout, to preach and plead and protest -- not that they should become like me, but that I should not become like them."

All that you can do, and all that is needed is: don't become like them. Do everything, take every precaution. If you feel a very strong desire to share with people who don't understand, then move into that knowing perfectly well that they will treat you the same as they have always treated others. Go knowingly into it; then if they start throwing stones at you, don't complain. This is your choice. If they crucify you, don't complain. This is what you have chosen of your own accord.

A farmer was driving his wagon past an insane asylum. One inmate cried out to him, "What have you got there in the waggon?"

"A load of horse manure," was the farmer's reply.

"What do you do with the horse manure?" asked the inmate. "Spread it on strawberries," answered the farmer.

"That's really wild," the inmate called out. "You should be in here. We put sugar and cream on ours."

Always remember with whom you are talking... otherwise you will create trouble for yourself.

Sufism

VOL. 1, SUFIS: THE PERFECT MASTER

Chapter-2

There is Communion