The Upanishads

BELOVED OSHO,
ARE THE UPANISHADS AND ZEN THE SAME?

They are not.

The upanishad is a happening between the master and the disciple, Zen is the happening in the disciple himself. The master may help him, may create devices, show the path – but Zen is basically an individual experience. It is not like love. It happens in your aloneness. It is not a relationship.

Upanishad is the greatest relationship. It cannot happen if the master is alone. He may be full, overflowing; but it cannot happen because the receiving end is absent. It cannot happen if the disciple is alone, however open, however available – but available to what? Open to what?

Upanishad is a more human phenomenon than Zen. It is closer to human reality because it is closer to love. It can be understood more easily, because it is very difficult to find a person who has not tasted something of love in some moments. There is some experience which can be used to explain to him what happens when a master and a disciple dissolve into each other.

So the first thing: the upanishad is a totally different phenomenon than Zen.

And the second thing: the experience is the same. The paths are different, but finally – whether you have followed Zen and reached alone to the peak, or you have allowed a master to hold your hand in deep trust and reached the peak – it does not matter how you reach the peak. Your vehicles can be different, your means can be different; the peak is the same. The experience of finding oneself and simultaneously finding the whole secret of existence is the same.

So on the one hand I say they are totally different.
On the other hand, I say they are exactly the same.

And there is no contradiction in these two statements. The paths are different but the ultimate finding is the same.

Zen is an arduous path, a hard and long way. But it is up to you – there are people who love to go the hard way. The simple way does not appeal to them; the hard way is exciting.
Upanishad is not a hard way. It is a very simple and relaxed experience. It is the shortest way possible to the ultimate reality.

But there are different kinds of people in the world; they all need different paths to reach to their fulfillment. These are the two extremes. In this sense, Zen and upanishad are as far away from each other as two points can be; and yet, the final conclusion is always the same. One is a hard way, a long way, but a few people need it.

One mystic in Sri Lanka was dying. He declared that the next morning he would be dying. He had thousands of followers; they all gathered. He was old, almost ninety years, and he had been teaching these people for sixty years. And the Buddhist teaching is a very hard way. But the mystic, at the point of death said, ” I have been teaching you the way I have followed, the way that has helped me to attain to the ultimate. But I now know that there is a shortcut in reaching to the ultimate too – so short that if somebody wants to go with me, stand up! I am leaving.”

People looked at each other, at those about whom they thought, ” These are very religious people, perhaps they may stand up. As far as I am concerned there are so many problems.”
Nobody stood up. Only one man raised his hand.

The old man said, ” Even that is a great consolation to me. But why are you not standing up?”

He said, ” Because I don’t want to go right now, but I want to know here the shortcut is in case at some time I want to go. Why bother with the hard and long way? That’s why I just raised my hand. I cannot stand up. As far as the hard way is concerned, we know – because for sixty years you have been teaching it. And at the last moment.... You are a strange fellow. At least tell us where the short way is!”

The mystic said, ” The short way has a condition: it is only for those who are ready to go right now. I give another chance – stand up!”

Even that man’s hand went down, and there was utter silence. And everybody was looking at each other....

The old man died.

People want the way to be hard and to be long because this is a good excuse for avoiding – because the way is so long and so hard... life is so short and so many problems, so many responsibilities; so much has to be done. The children are growing up, they have to be married, the business is not good – or the business is so good that this is not the moment to meditate.

Upanishad is the shortest possible way. Neither has the disciple to do anything nor has the master to do anything. Doing is not part of it.

I have quoted the great Zen poet Basho many times to you: ”Sitting silently, doing nothing, the spring comes and the grass grows by itself.” As far as upanishadic methodology is concerned, even doing nothing is not needed. And what are you going to do even if the grass grows by itself?
Whether you sit silently or not, it will grow. Whether you sit silently or not, the spring will come. You are unnecessarily taking the credit for the grass growing by itself – because you have been sitting silently, doing nothing! Even when you were not, the grass used to grow; when you will not be here the grass will continue to grow. It has nothing to do with you.

The upanishad does not even ask you to sit silently doing nothing.
Even doing nothing is a doing.

The whole approach of the upanishad is so totally different... the disciple is available, the master is overflowing, and something transpires. Nobody is doing it. Nobody can take the credit for it; hence, I say the way of the upanishad is the most mysterious way in the whole human consciousness and its evolution.

Zen is mysterious, but yet it can be understood.

Upanishad is simply mysterious, there is no way of understanding it. You can have it, you can dissolve into it, but there is no question of explanation – only experience.

All over the world there have been mystery schools. In Greece, Pythagoras founded mystery schools. In the religion of the Jews, Baal Shem founded a mystery school called Hassidism. In China there is the mystery school of tao, and when Buddhism reached China a new mystery school, a chain of new mystery schools opened, ch’an. The same mystery school, ch’an, reached Japan with the name ‘zen.’ But the word ‘zen’ or ‘ch’an’, or the Buddhist word ‘jhan’ are all different forms of the Sanskrit word ‘dhyan’.

In India dhyan has been known for centuries – before Gautam Buddha ever meditated, that mystery school was there.
There was the mystery school of tantra. There were the mystery schools of different types of yoga.
I have gone through all these schools not as a scholar – that is not my approach – but as an experiencer. I can say to you: nothing rises higher than the mystery school of upanishads – because it is the shortest. Nobody is expected to do anything, and yet the miracle happens.

Osho

The Osho Upanishad,

Ch#9 - The way of the Upanishads

Question 3
24 August 1986 pm in

Samadhi

DROPPING THE MEDITATOR AND THE MEDITATION RESPECTIVELY, WHEN THE MEDITATEDUPON, THE GOAL, REMAINS AS THE ONLY OBJECTIVE AND THE MIND BECOMES STILL LIKE THE FLAME OF A LAMP IN A WINDLESS PLACE – THIS IS CALLED SAMADHI, THE ENLIGHTENMENT.

Samadhi is the ultimate happening. The first three are the steps towards it, the fourth step is samadhi itself. Beyond that the world of words does not exist. Beyond that there is no world of speech. Only up to samadhi can anything be said. That which is beyond it, nothing has ever been said about it and nothing will ever be said about it.

Whosoever stands at the door of samadhi comes to see that which is invisible, comes to know that which is unknowable, meets that without which life was all misery, all pain and all anguish. That which is unknowable becomes known and that which is a mystery is revealed and disclosed. All complexes shatter, the consciousness becomes one with the truth in its open sky.

Samadhi is something that comes after assimilation to one who has attuned his mind with the supreme statements like Tattvamasi, ’That art thou’, aham brahmasmi, I am Brahma, soham, I am that. One whose mind and behavior have become expressions of these statements, one in whose movements there is the melody of ’That art thou’, one in whose movements there is the gesture and the indication that he is moving in tune with Brahma – such a person is able to attain to samadhi.

When the meditator and meditation both are lost, only the meditated-upon, the aim, remains – this is samadhi.

Let us understand this. There are three words: meditator, meditation and the meditated-upon – the aim. For example, ’That art thou’ is the goal, the meditated-upon. We are trying to grasp this supreme statement. This is the goal. This is worth achieving, only this is worth achieving. This is the goal, this is the final destination. Then I, the meditator, is the one who is thinking of this aim, is the one who is contemplating this aim, who is longing for this aim, who is thirsty for this aim; who is eager to attain this goal.... This is I, the meditator – the consciousness moving towards the goal.

And when the meditator runs toward this goal, when all other running ceases and only this running of the consciousness toward this goal remains, this is called meditation.

When all streams of consciousness begin flowing towards the goal united and do not flow separately in dozens of streams any longer, when they are integrated into one, when the consciousness becomes a single stream and begins flowing toward the goal, constantly – flying straight like an arrow – this flowing consciousness is called meditation.

Samadhi – the Upanishad says that when the meditation drowns in the goal leaving not even a trace of life-energy behind, when the meditator’s total energy and total consciousness becomes one with the goal, the moment comes when the meditator is not even aware that ’I am’. A moment comes when the meditator is not even aware that meditation is, that only Tattvamasi, only the goal, remains. That state is called samadhi, when not the three – the meditator, the meditation and the meditated-upon – when not the three but only the one remains.

Let this be understood a little more, because different spiritual disciplines have selected differently as to which of the three should remain in the end.

The Upanishads say that the meditated-upon, the goal, should remain; the meditator and the meditation should be lost. Mahavira says that the meditator should remain, the meditation and the meditated-upon should be lost; only the soul, the pure ’I’ should remain. It all sounds contradictory.

Sankhya, the path of nonduality, says both the meditator and the meditated-upon should be lost; only the meditation should remain, only the consciousness should remain – just the awareness.
It seems these are all very contradictory statements, but they are not contradictory at all. Scholars have always been having great debates, ludicrous debates. They have been debating heavily, and these debates are bound to arise. Those who understand only words will debate that these three are contradictory statements.

The Upanishads say that only the meditated-upon should remain, somebody else says the meditator should remain, and still another says the meditation should remain. What really is samadhi then? Is samadhi of three kinds? Moreover, if samadhi is when only the goal, the meditated-upon remains, then how can that be samadhi when only the meditator remains? So it will have to be decided as to which one is the right samadhi. Two of them will be wrong, only one can be right.

A scholar lives in words, not in experiences. The experience has a totally different taste to it: all these three are one and the same. Why? Because there is a very interesting thing about these three, that when any two out of the three disappear and only one remains, then a name for this remaining one is such a superficial matter that what name you give it is up to you.

Right now there are these three – the meditator, the meditation and the meditated-upon. For a seeker, for a seeker up to the state of assimilation, there are these three. When the three have disappeared and only one remains, then he selects for it any one name out of the three. This selection is altogether personal, it does not make any difference what name you give it. If you want you may select even a fourth name for it. Many Upanishads have in fact given it the name ’the fourth’; so all the three are lost, there remains no point of dispute... Because if any one of these three is selected, if two are dropped in favor of one, that may look like a bias, so they called it turiya, the fourth.

They have not given it any name, just called it ’the fourth’, so that no dispute arises. But those looking for a dispute have no problem, they say that there were only these three, from where has the fourth come? Which is this fourth? Which one of the three is this fourth? Or have all those three vanished and is this fourth something completely different from them, or it is a combination of the three? What is this fourth?

It makes no difference – those who want to argue, they pick on anything to start an argument. But the one who is interested in real seeking, his journey is entirely different.

Out of these three, the Upanishads chose the meditated-upon as the one that remains; Mahavira chose the meditator as the one that survives; Sankhya, the path of nonduality, said it is the meditation that remains. But all these are just names.

One thing is certain, that only one of the three remains. Names are all artificial, you may give it any name. Just remember one thing, that when only one remains there is samadhi, the enlightenment.

As long as there remain two know it well that all the three are there, because as long as the two remain, the third, adjoining them in the middle, is a must.

Two alone cannot remain, two always means three. So those who always think in mathematical terms do not call the world dwaita, dual, they call it traita, the triple, because when there are two the third is bound to be there, otherwise who will join or separate the two? The third becomes inevitable when there are two. Three is the way of existence.

This is why we have made trimurti, the three-faced statue representing Brahma, Vishnu and Mahesh:

it is indicative of traita, that the world is made up of three. But the three faces are of the same person which is ’the fourth’. You enter through any of these three faces and when you reach within the three faces no longer remain. But the seeker will admire the face through which he entered. Some seeker may enter through Brahma, some through Vishnu and some through Mahesh; each will name the experience after the face through which he entered. So he will say the fourth to be Vishnu or Mahesh or Brahma. But after reaching inside, all the three faces are lost. There is no space within, there everything is one.

This trimurti is not just a statue, it is the conclusion of our ultimate endeavors in seeking.

The three are just before the final jump; they remain there – the meditator, the meditation and the meditated-upon. And whichever out of these three makes the jump, that one remains. Whatsoever name you want to give it, it is up to you; the name makes no difference whatsoever. If you do not want to name it, it is up to you. If you want to call it ’the fourth’, beautiful. If you do not want to call it anything and you remain silent, that is the best.

Hear: turn hearing into listening. Think: turn thinking into contemplation. Contemplate: derive conclusions and let the conclusions become assimilation, to allow attunement.

And let attunement not remain mere attunement, let it ultimately become oneness.

Understand the difference. Attunement means the two still remain; though a harmony, an attunement has happened between the two, yet the two still remain. Oneness means the two are lost and only the harmony has remained.

Attunement is assimilation; oneness is samadhi, the awakening.

Enough for today.

Osho

Finger Pointing to the Moon,

Ch#10 - The Four Steps

am in Mt. Abu, Rajasthan, India