BELOVED OSHO,

ON FIRST ENTERING NANSEN'S MONASTERY, JOSHU WAS MADE TO SERVE IN THE KITCHEN AS THE STOKER. ONE DAY HE CLOSED ALL THE DOORS AND PILED WOOD ON THE FIRE UNTIL THE WHOLE KITCHEN WAS FILLED WITH SMOKE. THEN HE SHOUTED, "FIRE! FIRE! COME TO MY RESCUE!"

WHEN THE WHOLE COMMUNITY HAD FLOCKED TO THE DOOR, HE SAID, "I WILL NOT OPEN THE DOOR UNLESS YOU CAN SAY THE RIGHT WORD." NO ANSWER CAME FROM THE CROWD. BUT NANSEN SILENTLY PASSED THE KEY THROUGH A WINDOW HOLE. THIS WAS THE RIGHT WORD THAT JOSHU HAD IN MIND, AND HE OPENED THE DOOR IMMEDIATELY.

Maneesha, Joshu is a very rare case. Joshu had become a priest when he was still a child and experienced his first satori when he was seventeen. He said of this experience: "Suddenly, I was ruined and homeless."

This statement, after having the first glimpse of enlightenment, is of tremendous significance. He says, "Suddenly I was ruined. Whatever I was before, is all ruined. I was not that. I had cultivated a personality, a mind, a heart  --  nothing of that was me. The satori left me suddenly ruined and homeless. The home that I had made for myself according to the rules of the society, amongst the crowd, a cozy place... enlightenment, just the first glimpse of it, has taken away all. I am standing alone, homeless, shattered, ruined."

But this is only one part of the experience. The other part, he is not saying. The other part cannot be said. Only those who enter the experience know the other part.

The first part can be said: that the old is gone. We all know the old, but the new we don't know. So when the new comes, it brings a problem: you can say what has been ruined, what has been shattered, what has been taken away, but you cannot say what have you got. On that point there is utter silence.

That's why he is talking about only one part of it, the first part. The second part has to be experienced. The second part is finding your real home. The second part is finding your original face. The second part is finding your eternity. But these are mere words if not experienced. Experienced, they are the only true realities.

Everything depends on experience. Zen is experiential. It is not a talk about great things, it is not a philosophy. It is a very simple and obvious phenomenon  --  just to look in. What can be more simple? As you look in, a totally new world opens its doors and your old language becomes irrelevant. All that you can say is, the old is finished.

The new is discontinuous with the old. Neither the language nor any gesture, nothing can manage the new in the form that the old allows.

The new brings its own language.

The new brings its own home.

The new brings your ultimate reality.

I said that Joshu was a rare case.... Maneesha has brought one anecdote:

ON FIRST ENTERING NANSEN'S MONASTERY, JOSHU WAS MADE TO SERVE IN THE KITCHEN AS THE STOKER. ONE DAY HE CLOSED ALL THE DOORS AND PILED WOOD ON THE FIRE UNTIL THE WHOLE KITCHEN WAS FILLED WITH SMOKE. THEN HE SHOUTED, "FIRE! FIRE! COME TO MY RESCUE!"

Symbolically, this is the situation of everyone. You live in fire and you die in fire. Your heart is always on fire, burning with all kinds of jealousies and anger and greed  --  a psychological fire that goes on creating new anxieties, new wounds, and it never heals on its own. Joshu's effort, his first effort in the commune of Nansen, was to create a great fire and close all the doors of the kitchen. And when there was only smoke, and there was danger of his being burned, he shouted, "FIRE! FIRE! COME TO MY RESCUE!"

A seeker, whether he says it or not, really feels it: "FIRE! FIRE! COME TO MY RESCUE!"

WHEN THE WHOLE COMMUNITY HAD FLOCKED TO THE DOOR, HE SAID... This is how he shows his tremendous insight in Zen. In childhood he became a priest, at the age of seventeen he became almost enlightened, and meeting Nansen he became fully enlightened.

WHEN THE WHOLE COMMUNITY HAD FLOCKED TO THE DOOR, HE SAID, "I WILL NOT OPEN THE DOOR UNLESS YOU CAN SAY THE RIGHT WORD."

Now, how can you say the right word? What can be the right word? And his life is at stake! Soon the flames will grow bigger, the wooden temple will be on fire, and the man is asking about the right word!

That has also to be understood. There are thousands of cases on record when masters have asked, "Say the right word! If you say it I will hit you. If you don't say it I will hit you anyway." What is asked for is a response, spontaneous. The master has not asked an examination question. He has created a situation in which you cannot say a word from your past memory. If you say it, he will hit; if you don't say anything, anyway you are going to be hit. Don't think that not saying anything means silence.

Now it depends on different disciples, how they react. Sometimes the situation becomes very crucial. In one monastery there were two wings, a right wing and a left wing, and one thousand sannyasins were living there.

The master had a cat. Because it was the master's, a tremendous respect and love was shown to the cat and both sides wanted to take it to their wing. There was a continuous fight between monks about the cat.

Finally one day the master gathered the whole assembly. Only one monk was missing; he had gone for some work, down to the plains. So nine hundred ninety-nine monks were present. And the master took a sword at the cat and he said, "Say the right word! If you don't say it, I will cut the cat in two parts and divide it for you, so this fight, this continuous fight, is finished! Say the right word quickly; otherwise the cat will lose her life."

Those nine hundred ninety-nine people just looked at each other: "What can be the right word?" The master cut the cat and gave it, half and half, to both wings. Sad, carrying the dead cat, with blood flowing... And then came the monk who had gone down to the village. He came in and hit the master with a good slap! The master said, "Good! If you had been here, the poor cat would have been saved."

This was the right word. "What nonsense you are talking  --  cutting the cat! A living being cannot be divided that way." The master said, "This was the right thing, but those nine hundred ninety-nine monks had not the courage to come to me and hit me. I had given the opportunity... they could have saved the cat, but the very idea did not arise in their minds."

The idea can arise only in a mind who is coming very close to enlightenment. It is a spontaneous response. Otherwise, hitting the master is very rare. The master hits, that's okay; but the disciple hitting the master... There are a few instances, and they are always right. The disciple has shown a great insight, that the master is asking an absurdity.

WHEN THE WHOLE COMMUNITY HAD FLOCKED TO THE DOOR, HE SAID, "I WILL NOT OPEN THE DOOR UNLESS YOU CAN SAY THE RIGHT WORD." NO ANSWER CAME FROM THE CROWD. BUT NANSEN SILENTLY PASSED THE KEY THROUGH A WINDOW HOLE.

In fact, Joshu could not open the door without the key. That was the right word. He was closed in, he needed a key. Nobody thought of it, that the door was closed.

NANSEN SILENTLY PASSED THE KEY THROUGH A WINDOW HOLE. THIS WAS THE RIGHT WORD THAT JOSHU HAD IN MIND, AND HE OPENED THE DOOR IMMEDIATELY.

The "right word" simply means a spontaneous response, with clarity and intelligence, to the situation. There are two kinds of possibilities. One is a reaction. In a reaction you start thinking  --  what can be the right word? You have missed the point. Now you can go on thinking and consulting encyclopedias, you will not find the right word. The second is responsibility, not reaction. Responsibility means you don't go into your memory storage. You look directly at the situation: the door is closed, the flames are growing bigger and bigger. Any man of clarity will think of how to help him to open the door. That will be the right word, the right response.

Gido wrote:

TOWARD DAWN,

THE SAME BRIGHT STARS RETURN,

NIGHT AFTER NIGHT

ON THE MOUNTAIN RANGES.

WINTER SNOWS APPEAR EVERY YEAR.

SILLY TO IMAGINE FROM THESE THINGS

THAT GAUTAMA IS IN ANY

PARTICULAR PLACE  --

LIKE CARVING NICKS ON THE SIDE

OF A BOAT TO MARK ITS PLACE

IN THE RIVER!

First I have to tell you a small story.

Mulla Nasruddin had gone fishing... His wife had been insisting continuously, "Some day you take me with you." He said, "I will not have time for you. I will be so concentrated on fishing, and you don't know how to keep your mouth shut."

But she promised that she would not speak, so he took the wife. Strangely enough he found a place in the river where there were so many fish... he had never been so fortunate! Obviously it was the fortune of the wife. He thanked her. He said, "Strange! I have been searching and searching  --  a few fish here and there. But this place is full of all kinds of fish and so easily catchable! I should mark this place so I don't forget; otherwise how to find this place again?"

So he took a piece of chalk  --  he was a schoolmaster  --  and made a cross on the side of the boat to remember, that "this is the place where there are so many fish." But marking on the boat won't help in any way.

Gido says: TOWARD DAWN  --  always remember, these poems are visualized. TOWARD DAWN, as the morning sun is rising, THE SAME BRIGHT STARS RETURN, NIGHT AFTER NIGHT ON THE MOUNTAIN RANGES.

WINTER SNOWS APPEAR EVERY YEAR.

SILLY TO IMAGINE FROM THESE THINGS

THAT GAUTAMA IS IN ANY

PARTICULAR PLACE  --

He is saying that seeing all this change, it is almost silly to think that the Buddha is in any particular place  --

LIKE CARVING NICKS ON THE SIDE

OF A BOAT TO MARK ITS PLACE

IN THE RIVER!

All your marks are on the boat. And they don't in any way help you to find the place in the river, because in the river you cannot make a mark. The moment you make it, it disappears.

You will laugh at Nasruddin, but all his anecdotes are very indicative. What are your statues of Gautam Buddha? Just marks on the side of the boat. Buddha has disappeared in the universal; he has not left any footprints. Just as a bird flying into the blue sky leaves no footprints  --  where are you going to find him?