Послания любви. 365 писем Ошо
Шрифт:
and lots of it.
I looked at once for your letter
amongst the pile waiting for me on my return.
I can’t tell you how glad I was to get it –
written by hand, too.
You write: Now your presence is felt in your absence.
Love really is presence.
Where there is love
space and time vanish,
and where there is no love
even what is near in space and time
keeps immeasurably apart.
Only lovelessness separates
and love is the only nearness.
Those who find total love
discover everything within themselves.
The whole world then is inside, not outside
and the moon and stars lie in the inner sky.
In this fullness of love, ego vanishes.
I want God to lead you to this fullness.
31. Love.
I arrived here yesterday
and have been thinking of writing ever since
but it didn’t happen until now.
Forgive the delay
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