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CHAPTER 7
Fences, walls and broken tiles
3 July 1988 pm in Gautam the Buddha Auditorium
BELOVED OSHO,
NANYO WAS ASKED BY A MONK, “WHAT IS THE MIND OF THE ANCIENT BUDDHAS?” NANYO REPLIED, “IT IS FENCES, WALLS AND BROKEN TILES.”
THE MONK ASKED, “FENCES, WALLS AND BROKEN TILES ARE INSENTIENT, ARE THEY NOT?”
“THAT IS SO,” REPLIED NANYO.
“DO THEY EXPOUND BUDDHISM?” ASKED THE MONK. “ALWAYS, AND BUSILY,” REPLIED NANYO.
THE MONK SAID, “WHY DIDN’T I HEAR IT, THEN?”
NANYO ANSWERED, “YOU DON’T HEAR IT, BUT YOU SHOULDN’T PREVENT OTHERS FROM DOING SO.”
“WHO HEARS IT?” ASKED THE MONK. “ALL THE SAINTS,” ANSWERED NANYO.
“DOES YOUR GRACE HEAR IT?” ASKED THE MONK. “NOT I!” REPLIED NANYO.
“IF YOU DON’T HEAR IT, HOW CAN YOU EXPLAIN THE TEACHING OF THE LAW BY INANIMATE CREATURES?” ASKED THE MONK.
NANYO ANSWERED, “IT IS MY GOOD LUCK THAT I DO NOT HEAR IT. IF I DID, I WOULD BE THE SAME AS ALL THE SAINTS, AND THEN YOU WOULDN’T HAVE THE CHANCE TO HEAR MY TEACHING.”
THE MONK SAID, “IF THAT IS SO, PEOPLE WOULD HAVE NO PART IN IT.”
NANYO SAID, “I MYSELF EXPOUND IT FOR THE SAKE OF PEOPLE, NOT FOR THE SAKE OF THE SAINTS.”
THE MONK ASKED, “AFTER THE PEOPLE HEAR IT, WHAT THEN?” NANYO REPLIED, “THEN THEY ARE NOT JUST PEOPLE ANYMORE.”
ONE DAY WHILE GENSHA WAS THINKING, HE HEARD THE VOICE OF A SWALLOW AND SAID, “HOW WELL IT HAS EXPLAINED THE BUDDHIST TRUTH, SPEAKING PROFOUNDLY OF THE REAL NATURE OF THINGS!”
AND HE CAME DOWN FROM HIS SEAT.
LATER, A MONK, WANTING TO GET SOME PROFIT FROM GENSHA’S WORDS, SAID TO GENSHA, “I DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU MEANT.”
GENSHA RETORTED, “BE OFF WITH YOU! HOW CAN ANYONE TRUST YOU!”
AT ANOTHER TIME, UMMON ASKED A MONK, “DID YOU HEAR THE LONG-BEAKED BIRDS PREACHING ZEN IN KOZEI?”
“NO, I DIDN’T,” REPLIED THE MONK.
UMMON THEN RAISED HIS STAFF AND SAID, “ZEN!”
These are not, Maneesha, ordinary dialogues; these are dialogues between the valleys and the peaks, between those who are in dark and those who have themselves become light. It is a difficult situation – the communication between darkness and light or death and life is bound to be difficult; their spheres are so diametrically opposite. But Zen, and Zen alone, has at least made an effort. You will see, in this dialogue.
NANYO, a master, WAS ASKED BY A SEEKER, A MONK, “WHAT IS THE MIND OF THE ANCIENT BUDDHAS?”
The answer has tremendous value:
NANYO REPLIED, “IT IS FENCES, WALLS AND BROKEN TILES.”
THE MONK ASKED, “FENCES, WALLS AND BROKEN TILES ARE INSENTIENT, ARE THEY NOT?”
“THAT IS SO,” REPLIED NANYO.
“DO THEY EXPOUND BUDDHISM?” ASKED THE MONK. “ALWAYS, AND BUSILY,” REPLIED NANYO.
THE MONK SAID, “WHY DIDN’T I HEAR IT, THEN?”
Before we go deeper into the anecdote ... So many golden treasures in simple words. The way Nanyo replied ... “The mind of the buddha – even of the buddha – is nothing but fences, prisons, boundaries, walls and broken tiles.” You may be a buddha, but have you ever thought that you are imprisoned in bones, in skin, in flesh, in marrow? This is your house, this is not you. You are the one who is living in this house, behind these fences, walls and broken tiles. It does not matter whether the mind is of a buddha or of someone who is asleep, the nature of the mind is the same.
No other religion has the courage to speak so straightforwardly as Zen. No Christian can say this about Jesus; he will think this is disrespectful. No Hindu can say this about Krishna; he will think this is absolutely irreligious. But Nanyo himself is a buddha and what he is saying is not irreligious, is not disrespectful; he is simply stating the fact. Mind is your bondage. The moment you drop your mind, your buddhahood arises out of the smoke – a high mountain peak, covered with eternal snow, virgin and pure.
But the poor monk could not understand it. That is the difficulty with communication between someone who knows and the one who knows not. Misunderstanding upon misunderstanding ...
The monk was shocked. Buddha is worshipped and this Nanyo himself worships him, himself teaches his teachings, and is talking in such offensive terms!
THE MONK ASKED, “FENCES, WALLS AND BROKEN TILES ARE INSENTIENT, AREN’T THEY?” “THAT’S SO,” REPLIED NANYO.
“DO THEY EXPOUND BUDDHISM?”
The monk is still thinking with his mind, with his logic, with his reason. And his question is reasonable. If this is the mind of Buddha, then they must be teaching Buddhism. He is trying to prove Nanyo to be utterly ignorant of the mind of Buddha. His questions are not just questions, but arguments.
“DO THEY EXPOUND BUDDHISM?” ASKED THE MONK. “ALWAYS, AND BUSILY,” REPLIED NANYO.
As far as teaching is concerned, mind is busy all around the world, teaching this religion, teaching that religion, teaching this philosophy, teaching that theology. Nanyo is saying that Buddhism – or any “ism”, it does not matter – is always taught by the mind. But the buddha himself is silent. The buddha teaches not; only the house goes on resounding with sounds. But the one who lives in the center of the cyclone is absolutely silent.
The monk still goes on:
THE MONK SAID, “WHY DIDN’T I HEAR IT, THEN?”
Again it has to be understood, that that which is beyond mind can neither be said nor can be heard – but it can be understood, it can be realized; it is your very nature. And the master’s function is not to teach you theorizations, hypotheses, but to provoke you.
Just the way if somebody tickles you, and you start laughing for no reason at all. Soon you will see in our meditation: even without tickling, people go mad! And I have said that if anybody sits silently like a buddha, everybody is allowed to tickle him. It is not the place for any spectator.
The master only tickles you to laugh. But he cannot create laughter by words; he creates devices – tickling is just a name of a device. It says nothing. The very presence of the master is itself a device. Without saying anything, he penetrates those who are receptive, who have opened the doors of their hearts.
But the poor monk is in the same situation as the whole world is. Rather than asking, “Why can’t I receive? Why can’t I realize the unsayable?” he asks,
“WHY DIDN’T I HEAR IT, THEN?”
NANYO ANSWERED, “YOU DON’T HEAR IT, BUT YOU SHOULD NOT PREVENT OTHERS FROM DOING SO.”
It is a misfortune that the people who have no understanding are professors, priestsAlmost half
the world is communist and denies the very experience of religion as having any validity – and none of them has ever meditated, none of them has ever explored in. Those who have gone in have always come back with a smile, expounding without saying a word the blissfulness, the fragrance, the whispering silence.
Nanyo said, “You don’t hear it, but please don’t start telling other people that Nanyo is mad because he says that the mind of a buddha is nothing but fences, walls and broken tiles, and he also says that they expound Buddhism always and busily. Please don’t do that. If you cannot hear it, keep it a secret.”
“WHO HEARS IT?” ASKED THE MONK. “ALL THE SAINTS,” ANSWERED NANYO.
To hear or to listen makes the whole difference. Everybody can hear sound, but if you want to listen, you have to be very close to your ears, alert and aware. In such a moment as this, you can hear
it. If your mind is silent ... that is the block. If it is removed – and if this silence cannot remove it, nothing else can remove it – then this bird chirping is teaching you the eternal truth of life; then this very silence becomes the teaching. Nothing is said, but a deep understanding starts arising within you.
“WHO HEARS IT?” the monk asked. “ALL THE SAINTS.”
In Zen, a saint means one who can listen, who can listen to the profound silence of existence. It has nothing to do with virtue, with doing good things. It has something to do with your being conscious, alert, aware ... waking up, and suddenly you see the bamboos are saying the same truth that the buddhas have said. The birds are singing from the same life source that you are breathing from. It is one cosmic mystery, in which we all share.
The monk must have been utterly stupid, because he goes on asking questions without understanding any answer that has been given. But the compassion of the master tolerates it.
He again asks, “DOES YOUR GRACE HEAR IT?” “NOT I!” REPLIED NANYO.
He was such a great master. Because if he says “Yes, I hear it” ... the ‘I’ is the barrier; you have to drop it. And there is no reason to hear it, because you are it. That’s why he simply denies; he says, “NOT I!”
The monk still goes on being stupid.
“IF YOU DON’T HEAR IT, HOW CAN YOU EXPLAIN THE TEACHING OF THE LAW BY INANIMATE CREATURES?” ASKED THE MONK.
He seems to be thinking in his mind that he is winning a debate! The experience of existence is not a debate. It is not debatable.
NANYO ANSWERED, “IT IS MY GOOD LUCK THAT I DO NOT HEAR IT.”
Strange are these statements, but absolutely true. IT IS MY GOOD LUCK, because I am not there. It is my good luck that I don’t hear it – I am it, I have dissolved myself into this silence. I have become this fire; everything else is burned in it.
Nanyo must be very compassionate, he said:
“IT IS MY GOOD LUCK THAT I DO NOT HEAR IT. IF I DID, I WOULD BE THE SAME AS ALL THE SAINTS, AND THEN you WOULDN’T HAVE THE CHANCE TO HEAR MY TEACHING.”
Looks like a very absurd answer – it is not. He is saying, “It is my good luck that I do not hear it, because I do not exist.”
(IN THE PAUSE, A CUCKOO SINGS HER EVENING SONG.)
The cuckoo has just spoken it. Do you hear it? (AND THE CUCKOO REPEATS HER SONG.)
It is the same life source, without any discontinuity ... the heart of the cuckoo and her song is also your being. You don’t hear it, you simply become it. You forget the distance between the singer and the listener, you simply become the song. In this silence, this cuckoo is doing her job, knowing perfectly well that these lectures are dedicated to the solitary cuckoo, deep in the forest.
Nanyo said, “IF I DID, everything would be wrong.” That’s why he is using the word ‘if’. IF I DID – hypothetically, just to carry on the dialogue – IF I DID, I WOULD BE THE SAME AS ALL THE SAINTS.
In fact he is talking about all the so-called saints, who are preaching without knowing. “AND THEN YOU WOULD NOT HAVE THE CHANCE TO HEAR MY TEACHING.” My teaching is not in words. Words are being used, but the teaching is slipped through to your being in the gaps between the words.
In the silences of the heart, there is a meeting between the master and the disciple.
Both know that something has moved, some energy has been transferred, transmitted. The flame that was asleep in the disciple is asleep no more; it has jumped into aliveness and consciousness.
This is the transmission of the lamp. But you can do it only if you have it. A strange situation is needed: the master has to have it and the disciple has to be ready to receive it.
Nothing is said, nothing is heard and the dialogue is over.
THE MONK SAID, “IF THAT IS SO, PEOPLE WOULD HAVE NO PART IN IT.”
NANYO SAID, “I MYSELF EXPOUND IT FOR THE SAKE OF PEOPLE, NOT FOR THE SAKE OF
THE SAINTS.” I am speaking for those who do not understand, who cannot hear, who are still not open to receive. I’m not saying anything to the saints who know.
THE MONK ASKED, “AFTER THE PEOPLE HEAR IT, WHAT THEN?” NANYO REPLIED, “THEN THEY ARE NOT JUST PEOPLE ANYMORE.”
That is the only difference. If you can feel the buddha, the master, you are no more a disciple. And there are idiots in the world ... I have talked to you about starting an anti-Fischer-Hoffmann therapy, because the Fischer-Hoffmann therapy is trying to get people to be stronger egos. Even here, there are people who have passed through that therapy. The therapists know nothing about me, and they are even saying that “you have to drop Osho, you have to be independent.”
But it is strange ... nobody here is dependent; you are making independent people again independent, liberated people again liberated? It is my challenge to Fischer-Hoffmann therapists
that first they should be here and see how people are enjoying independence, freedom. Nobody is forced to follow a theology, a religion, a philosophy, a doctrine. Everybody is asked to be just himself. It is their absolute duty first to be here, and then tell my people to be independent of me. They are independent.
Freedom is my message, because the moment you become a buddha, hearing silently your own heartbeat, you are no more a disciple. But it is a little subtle to understand. You can be an egoist in the name of independence and freedom – and then you are as far away from your authentic reality as you can be; stars are not that far away from you. Your ego takes you for a ride. And it becomes more and more difficult, as the ego becomes more and more crystallized, to come out of the prison to freedom – to break the chains, to jump the fence. And that’s exactly what Fischer-Hoffmann therapy is doing. It is against human beings and their growth. They need to be with a master. But this need is not dependence, this need is simply a device so that the master can share his light and his space and make you aware that now you need not be here, you are a buddha yourself.
Either you can be a buddha – then you are in freedom, real freedom. Or you can be an egoist – then the freedom is just a name, you don’t know anything about freedom.
Nanyo said, “THEN THEY ARE NOT JUST PEOPLE ANYMORE.” I teach people ... the moment they understand they are buddhas, this much is the difference between the sleeping person and the person who is awake.
What I am doing here continuously is pulling on your legs – “Come out of your blankets, it is time to wake up! It has already been long that you should have been out of bed.” But you are clinging to your bed, clinging to your blanket; it seems to be secure, comfortable. Who knows what awakening will bring?
You have to be awake to know. Nobody else can be awake in your place.
ONE DAY WHILE GENSHA WAS THINKING, HE HEARD THE VOICE OF A SWALLOW AND SAID, “HOW WELL IT HAS EXPLAINED THE BUDDHIST TRUTH.”
I would like to say only one thing to Gensha: truth is not Buddhist. Truth makes one a buddha – it will make a Mohammedan a buddha, a Hindu a buddha, a Christian a buddha, a Parsee a buddha. It does not matter who becomes awake – the word ‘buddha’ simply means ‘the awakened one’. Truth is not Buddhist; neither is it Mohammedan, nor Hindu, nor Christian. Truth is simply your awareness.
But he is saying something beautiful. Drop the word ‘Buddhist’ – “HOW WELL THE SWALLOW HAS SAID THE TRUTH, SPEAKING PROFOUNDLY OF THE REAL NATURE OF THINGS!”
That’s what I was telling you about the cuckoo here! And I am continually reminding you about the bamboos. They are all expounding the truth ... in their silence, in their dancing in the wind, in their joy in the sun, in their beauty with the rain. In every moment, everything around you which is alive is expounding the truth.
AND HE CAME DOWN FROM HIS SEAT.
The sermon was very small, because the swallow had already said it. Now there was no need for Gensha to repeat.
LATER, A MONK, WANTING TO GET SOME PROFIT FROM
GENSHA’S WORDS, SAID TO GENSHA, “I DID NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU MEANT.” GENSHA RETORTED, “BE OFF WITH YOU! HOW CAN ANYONE TRUST YOU!” I have not said a
single word! Go and ask the swallow, learn the language of existence. Otherwise you remain deep in your dreams, drowned, and a tremendous life passes by.
AT ANOTHER TIME, UMMON ASKED A MONK, “DID YOU HEAR THE LONG-BEAKED BIRDS PREACHING ZEN IN KOZEI?”
“NO, I DIDN’T,” REPLIED THE MONK.
UMMON THEN RAISED HIS STAFF AND SAID, “ZEN!”
Those long-beaked birds were preaching Zen, because whatever was coming out in their songs was coming from their very center of being. They were not musicians – trained, practicing, disciplined in a school. They were just poor birds without any training and education. Whatever was coming had to be coming from their very being, not from their minds.
Ummon’s raising the staff is symbolic. He was saying, “Everything is teaching Zen.” Everything is teaching to be yourself. Everything is itself except man, who has gone astray. No bamboo is worried, no cuckoo is worried; they don’t go to the psychoanalyst.
And your psychoanalyst himself needs psychoanalysis. After every six months he goes to another psychoanalyst because he becomes tired, every day listening to all kinds of crazy, stupid people. You can understand – by and by he himself starts partaking something of their stupidity.
A man had the idea that he had died. Now the whole family was worried; they all told him, “You are alive – who told you this?”
He said, “I don’t need anybody’s advice, I know I am dead!”
At first they thought it was a joke, but soon they realized, “That man has simply gone cuckoo.”
They took the man to the psychoanalyst. The psychoanalyst said, “Don’t be worried, it is my profession. I will bring him down.”
He asked the man, “Do you know the old proverb that dead men don’t bleed?”
He said, “Yes, I know – I used to know in fact, before I died, but I still remember. What of it?” The psychoanalyst took a knife and cut the patient’s finger and brought a little blood.
The patient said, “Aha! That proves that the proverb is wrong: dead men do bleed, I am a living proof!”
Treating such people continuously ...
Another man had the idea that some very greasy, Italian creatures are coming all over him and he goes on throwing them away, but they don’t stop. Somebody is going into his ears, somebody is coming out of his nose, he was really in a terrible mess.
His family brought him to the psychoanalyst.
The psychoanalyst said, “Don’t be worried. Such cases I have heard about, but he will be okay.”
And the man sat on the chair and he was continuously throwing off those creatures, all Italians, just spaghetti types.
First the psychoanalyst tried to tell him, “Don’t be worried, nothing is ... I don’t see anything.”
He said, “It does not matter whether you see it or not, they are creeping all over me. I am tortured and you are watching! At least help me to throw them away!” And he pulled his chair close to the psychoanalyst. The psychoanalyst said, “Be off, away, because a few of them have already started crawling over me! I don’t want to take this case, it is dangerous.”
It is only a man like me ... You all go crazy and then when I go back to my room I say, “Great, you survived again so many crazy people!” Never before has any psychoanalyst encountered thousands of people going absolutely crazy, throwing away all their creatures all over the place.
What you experience in a few minutes, psychoanalysis takes years to analyze! And still nothing helps. I have not heard that a single patient has been helped to sanity by psychoanalysis or psychiatry. They themselves recognize that nobody in the whole world is perfectly psychoanalyzed, because it takes years, ten years, fifteen years continuously.
But they don’t know that here, within five minutes, five thousand people go crazy and come back immediately. Nivedano just has to give the sign – “Come back, enough!” – and they all sit silently like buddhas. It is a miracle!
A Zen poet has written:
THE OLD PINE SPEAKS DIVINE WISDOM; THE SECRET BIRD
MANIFESTS ETERNAL TRUTH.
When he was dying, Kangan wrote: THESE EIGHTY-FOUR YEARS, STILL, ASTIR,
ZEN’S BEEN MY LAST WORD.
SPOKEN BEFORE TIME BEGAN.
Existence has always been here. And it is not dumb or deaf; it is singing its song continuously, only you need the heart to understand.
Here you are learning a new language, the language that the universe understands. You are learning a dance with the universe. And the moment you are not and only the dance remains, you are a buddha.
This is the highest peak of joy and bliss. Question 1
Maneesha has asked:
BELOVED OSHO,
IS THERE ACTUALLY SOMETHING TO BE HEARD? OR IS IT THAT AS WE REFINE OUR SENSE OF LISTENING, WE ARE REFINED, AND BY THE TIME WE ARE ABLE TO LISTEN TOTALLY, WE ARE TOTALLY TRANSFORMED?
Maneesha, your question is not a question but an answer. Now, Miyan Farookh has come here ...
(OSHO SMILES AT THE SMALL SON OF ASHRAMITE ZAREEN, AND SNAPS HIS FINGERS) ...
being very silent, sitting in a buddha posture. A few laughs in Miyan Farookh’s honor. At dinner one evening, the cannibal chief complains, “I hate my mother-in-law.”
“Well then,” says his wife, “just eat the vegetables!”
Ma Papaya Pineapple is doing her new group, the Primal-Encounter-Breath Massage of the Neo- Rebalancing-Psychic Inner-Release.
Of course, half way through the group she falls madly in love with the therapist, Swami Deva Cleverhead. But the rules are that she cannot connect with the therapist until the group is over.
Finally, the group ends and Papaya Pineapple rushes home. She showers, doesn’t shave, and puts on her sexiest silk and satin see-through sari. Then she finds Cleverhead and invites him to dinner at the Blue Diamond.
After they finish dining, Papaya Pineapple buys brandy and dessert, still hoping for a big night. At last she invites him up to her flat for an after-dinner herb tea.
Sitting on her huge bed, she lays back and smiles. After a long silence – a very long silence – Swami Cleverhead says, “My feeling about you, Papaya, is that you want something but you just don’t put it out.”
“Put it out?” cries Papaya. “Thank you for sharing, Swami, but don’t you think it’s time that you put it in?”
While Kowalski is in the hospital, after a nasty accident, he receives this letter from his mother: Dear Son,
Just a few lines to let you know that I be still alive. I am writing this letter slowly because I know you don’t read too fast.
You won’t recognize the house when you get home because we moved. There be a washing machine in the house when we moved in, but it not working too good. Last week I put ten of your father’s shirts into it, pull the chain, and I not seen the shirts since.
Your sister Hannah had a baby this morning. I not find out yet if it be a boy or a girl. So I not know if you be an uncle or an aunt.
Your uncle Lenny drown in a huge barrel of whiskey last week. Some men dived in to save him, but he fought them off hard. We cremated his body, but it took three days to put out the fire.
Weather is good. It only rain twice last week. First for three days, then for four days. Try to learn to write soon,
Your loving Mother
P.S. I was going to send you ten dollars, but I have already sealed the envelope.
Pope the Polack and President Ronald Reagan are meeting in Warsaw, the capital of Poland.
They have come for the official opening of the first public swimming pool in the city. There is much fanfare and royal display. Pope the Polack bends down to kiss the ground around the pool, while Ronald Reagan looks on. Then Reagan cuts the ribbon, officially opening the pool.
Hundreds of screaming Polacks rush and jump in, to fill the huge pool. Then they scream even louder, get out, and jump in again.
“It seems the people are really enjoying themselves,” smiles Pope the Polack.
“Yes,” says Reagan, “and they will enjoy themselves even more once it is filled with water.”
Now, get ready for Nivedano’s beat, and don’t try in any way to save anything inside. Throw it out. Give it to anybody, but don’t keep it to yourself!
Nivedano ... (Drumbeat)
(Gibberish) (Drumbeat) Be silent.
Close your eyes, no movement ... just go within. Deeper and deeper ...
The deeper you go, the more you are.
Unless you reach your very center, you don’t know who you are, what is the mystery of life. In this very moment you are a buddha, awakened.
Keep this awareness. Don’t again forget it!
To forget awareness is the only sin and to remember it is the only virtue. Nivedano ...
(Drumbeat) Everybody dies.
Die totally, don’t hesitate, because your life source is beyond death. This silence is Zen.
Out of this silence the cuckoo sings, out of this silence the roses bloom. This silence is the language of existence itself.
Nivedano ... (Drumbeat)
Everybody comes back, but without forgetting your inner reality. Come back rejuvenated.
Come back with the fragrance of your inner sources. Except this there is no religiousness.
Okay, Maneesha?
Yes, Osho.
Can we celebrate so many buddhas meeting under one roof for the first time in history? Yes!
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