The master said, “Observe me carefully. Whatever I do is right. Whatever I do not do is wrong.”
Rinzai asked, “Do you never make mistakes?”
The master replied, “If I existed, a mistake could happen. But the one who could err is no longer here. I am gone. Who remains to commit a mistake? And if you think even the divine can make a mistake, then that mistake too is right.”
Such courage. Such humility.
Rinzai’s master was so humble. At that time, even the emperor of Japan longed to make someone his guru. He summoned many monks and ascetics, but none satisfied him. Eventually someone told him, “There is only one — Rinzai’s master.”
Remember, this man had no name. That is why I repeat: Rinzai’s master. He had no name at all.
And yet he could say, “Whatever I do is right. Whatever I do not do is wrong.”
The emperor was told, “There is a man, but he has no name.”
“How will I ask for him?” the emperor wondered.
Worse still, no one knew if he would come. Sometimes he entered a hut; sometimes he refused even a palace. He was like the wind — moving wherever existence carried him.
The advisors said, “That is the difficulty. You must seek the one who cannot be sought.”
The emperor began searching.
Outside a village he saw a monk sitting on a rock. The emperor asked him, “I am searching for the one who cannot be found. Can you guide me?”
The monk said, “It is a long journey. It will take years. You will find him — but only after many years.”
“When will it happen?” the emperor asked.
“When the seeker disappears,” the monk said.
The emperor sighed, “These madmen! I must find the one who cannot be found — and I will find him only when I am gone.”
But the monk’s eyes captivated him, and he set out.
For thirty years he searched every corner of Japan — among monks, beggars, wanderers…
After thirty years he returned to his own village.
On the same rock sat the same monk.
The emperor recognized him instantly.
He fell at his feet and cried, “How could you do this? If you were the one I met on the first day, why did you send me wandering for thirty years?”
The monk said, “You could not have recognized me then — because you were still there. Even from God himself a man must be turned away many times, for it is not God but recognition that is the question. Those thirty years were needed for you to reach what was always near — just outside your own village.”
Only those who are nameless can make such declarations.
Only those so humble that they have disappeared can speak like this.
The sages (of Nirvan Upanishad) say: What is the final sign of the enlightened one?
The final sign is this — whatever he does is right; whatever he does not do is wrong.
~ Translated from Nirvan Upanishad by Osho (Hindi Discourse), Discourse 2
---
No comments:
Post a Comment