Question 1

BELOVED OSHO,

THE LAST LINE OF THIS ZEN STORY SAYS TEN WERE ENLIGHTENED AND THAT THIS WAS A GREAT NUMBER. TEN DOESN'T SEEM A GREAT NUMBER TO ME. CAN WE BUY YOUR STICK AND USE IT ON OURSELVES TO HELP SURRENDER HAPPEN?

Ten is really a big number because enlightenment is so arduous, so difficult to achieve, almost impossible. Ten is a big number but even bigger numbers have happened. With Buddha hundreds became enlightened; with Mahavira hundreds became enlightened.

The basic thing is not how to buy my stick -- you cannot buy it -- it is how to allow it. It is not a question of the master hitting you, it is a question of receiving the hit, welcoming it. If you resist, nothing can be done; and resistance is there. In ordinary things resistance is there, and death is very big, the ultimate. In ordinary things resistance is there.

One man was here and he said, "I want to surrender."

I told him, "Think about it -- what do you mean? It is difficult; it is not so easy that you can come and say, 'I surrender.'" I told the man, "Go and first shave your head."

The man said, "That's very difficult, that I cannot do; I love long hair."

The man had completely forgotten he was going to surrender to me, but he could not cut his hair. And hair is dead already, hair is not a live part of you; that is why you can cut it and you are not harmed. Hair is dead, already dead, something which has gone dead and been thrown out of the body as dead cells. This man says he cannot cut his hair because he loves long hair -- and he is ready to surrender. He doesn't know what surrender means.

Someone comes to me and says, "I am ready to surrender." And I say to him, "Change to ochre." Then he says, "That will be awkward, it will be difficult." He cannot change his dress to ochre yet he is ready to surrender.

The word surrender has become meaningless, it carries no meaning for him. He is not aware of what he is saying, otherwise to utter the word surrender would make his whole being tremble and shake, because it means death.

My stick is there; I can hit you but your readiness is not there. If I hit you before you are ready, you will simply escape from me. Many escape, many have escaped because I have hit them somehow or other.

And don't think that the stick is really a visible thing; I use subtle sticks. Just a word can hit you to death; you are shattered. Your logic, your religion, your concepts are hit and you are shattered, and you never come back again to me. I hit your emotions, then you become antagonistic to me. Your ripeness is needed: you have to welcome the hit, wait and pray for it.

In Zen it has been one of the oldest traditions that whenever a disciple is hit, the whole monastery becomes happy, and the disciple is received as something special. The master has hit him; the disciple has been chosen. People wait for years to be hit by the master. They pray, they ask the master, "When will we be capable?" or, "When will we be fortunate enough to be hit? When will your stick, your staff, descend upon us?"

A deep receptivity is needed. There is no need to buy my staff, it is always yours. Only have a welcoming heart, a deep receptivity, patience; it can descend on you at any moment. Sometimes it comes near to you and you become scared. Sometimes, on many centers of your body I hit but then you are scared, then you want to escape from it.

Be alert to the mind; the mind will always tell you to escape. Wherever there is danger the mind will tell you: run away from here.

The mind has two ways of encouraging a situation -- one is fight, another is flight. Your mind starts fighting with me, I can see. When I am talking, I can see in your eyes whether you are fighting or fleeing. Your very look, the way you sit, the way you hear, shows that you are fighting, resisting, withdrawn -- creating a space so I cannot enter in you. Or, you are on a flight, and then you are sleepy and you are not listening at all. Or you are somewhere else, thinking something else, you are engaged within so you can escape.

When you are ready neither flight nor fight exists, just a prayerful patience and waiting. There is not even an impatience about it... because impatience creates tension. You are not even impatient, just patiently waiting, passively waiting with a prayerful mood.

The hit is yours; I am waiting for it, and many more than Ekido's disciples can become enlightened. The possibility is there; the opportunity is there, the river is flowing, but whether you will bow down and take a drink, or whether you will remain egoistic and turn away from the river, thinking either of flight or of fight and creating all your own ideas around you -- whether you will allow your mind to take you away from me, or whether you will put it aside and allow me to hit you -- everything depends on you. The hit is always near but you go on wavering.

This disciple was hit by Ekido; he was really surrendered. And after his death many more were ready. From somewhere the chain is to be broken. When one light is kindled, many more follow. Who will be the first to die? -- that's the question. Once this disciple was dead and inside, enlightened, many followed; ten became enlightened.

This word ten is also worth thinking about. This ten is symbolic... because ten is the greatest number. It is not exactly ten, it is not arithmetical; ten is just the greatest number. Man started counting on his fingers, and there are ten fingers. Even now in the villages people count on their fingers. Ten is the highest number and all other numbers are repetitive. Eleven means one upon one, twelve means two upon one; there is repetition. Ten is the basic number in all the languages of the world, because everywhere man has ten fingers. These are the ten digits so ten is the highest number; it is symbolic.

One dropped into infinity, then many followed. Once the abyss is open and you see someone entering it, and you see the bliss, the benediction, you can also enter it very easily; you can take the jump as well.

Many are getting ready, but even if you are ninety-nine percent ready, the hit cannot descend on you. The hit can descend on you only when you are one hundred percent ready, because then it is a revolution. You can turn back even from ninety-nine percent, that's the problem. It is very unfortunate but it happens.

I have been working with many, many people, and sometimes they turn when the right moment was going to be; exactly before that moment they turn away. And the mind is cunning enough; it can philosophize, it can say why you have turned away. Exactly at the moment when something was going to happen, you can turn away. There is more possibility for you to turn away from that moment than from any other moment; it is unfortunate but it happens. You wait and wait and wait, and then the moment is nearing where the evaporating point can be reached, and suddenly you turn away. To resist that turning is very difficult. It is just like death reaching nearer, nearer, nearer, and seeing the abyss you turn away and run as fast as you can.

Remain alert. This misfortune happens to seekers; it can happen to you.

Buddha passed through a village many times in his forty years of traveling. One man used to come; he would listen for a few minutes then get up and go away. And this had become a habit; he never listened to Buddha for the whole time Buddha was speaking. He would come, that was certain, and whenever Buddha would come to the town he would wait for that man. He would come, that was certain. He would sit and for a few minutes he would listen, then, respectfully bowing down to Buddha, he would go away.

Ananda once asked that man, "Why do you do this?"

The man said, "Sometimes this is the peak hour for my business, but I must come just to pay my respects; that's why I come. But my shop is open and customers are there, and they will not wait. Enlightenment can wait; next time I will hear." It happened again and again.

The day Buddha died he was near the village, and before his death he said to Ananda, "That man has not come. This is exceptional -- he never missed. He always missed in a sense but he never missed. He has always come, now he has not come."

Then Buddha asked his disciples, "Do you have anything to ask -- because soon I will enter into the final samadhi, the final ecstasy, and then I will not be able to come back and answer you."

They started weeping and crying but there was no question. And Ananda said, "We have asked everything, you have answered everything, and there is nothing. Our minds are blank just thinking that you are going to disappear."

Buddha asked thrice, again and again. There was no question so he went behind the tree and closed his eyes, just to dissolve into the infinite, to leave the body, and then suddenly the man came. He started fighting with the monks and said, "I must see him. This is the last time; I will not be able to see him again. For forty years I have been missing and I have a question to ask. I have never been able to ask it before because sometimes there was a marriage in my family, sometimes business was at a peak, sometimes I was ill or my wife was ill, and sometimes there were relatives staying. I always missed but now don't prevent me."

The disciples said, "It is not possible; now he is dissolving."

Buddha came out from his ecstasy, from his final samadhi. He came in front of the tree and he said, "Don't prevent that man. He may have been foolish, he may have missed because of his ignorance, but I cannot be hard on him. I am still alive so let him come. No one should say that Buddha was alive and a man who had come begging was sent back." Buddha said, "What have you come to ask?"

The man had forgotten the question. He said, "When I came, I knew, but now I can't remember. Next time I see you I will bring the question." ... And there was going to be no next time.

Buddha died that day, and that man must be wandering somewhere on this or some other earth, seeking a man who can answer his question. That man missed Buddha continuously for forty years.

You can miss me -- always remember that possibility. But it will be because of you, not because of me; I am always ready. Whenever you are ready I will hit you, but a deep surrender is needed; before that nothing can be done. You have to die, die as you are, so that which you really are can be born out of you. You have to die as an appearance so that the real can be born. You have to die on the periphery, so that the center evolves and comes out in its luminousness, in its full perfection.

All hits are to destroy the seed so that the tree is born.