One Seed Makes the Whole Earth Green
Discourses
Table of Contents
Peace of mind, my foot!
Peace of mind, my foot! Rinzai was pulled off the high seat by Ma-yu, who sat on it himself. Rinzai pulled him back down and sat again. Ma-yu left; Rinzai stepped down. Three hundred donkeys surrounding one bodhisattva protested against Osho. Nobody can insult him—humiliation needs acceptance. Peace of mind is a contradiction: mind is never peaceful. The thousand hands and thousand eyes of compassion—there is no single true eye. The true eye is no-eye.
The secret of coca-cola
The secret of coca-cola. 'The golden carp is out of the net—what will it feed on?' 'When you've gotten out, I'll tell you.' A monk said 'Kwatz!'—Sansho replied 'Kwatz!' back and forth. 'When you go down a slope, there's no pleasure unless you run.' The editor bitten by a mad dog writing names of people to bite. The secret of coca-cola: the whole world is addicted to something—religion, politics, consumerism. Zen's secret: freedom from all addiction.
1,758,640,175 devils
1,758,640,175 devils. 'What is Buddha?' 'The bamboo whips of Mount Jorin.' 'What is not Buddha?' Religion's worst crime: placing man at the center of existence. God created man in his own image—no, man created God in his own image. Man's dominion over nature has destroyed species, forests, ecological balance. India lost 22 million hectares of trees since independence. One billion, seven hundred fifty-eight million devils—one for every human. The Buddha is not separate from bamboo whips.
One wonders...
One wonders... 'Confess me!' Fuketsu snapped his fingers: 'May your sins disappear!' 'Even without practicing Zen, can we attain Buddhahood?' 'The golden cock heralds the dawn; the pitch barrel sends out dark radiance.' 'Both speech and silence transgress—how to avoid?' 'I always remember the spring in Konan, where the partridges sing: how fragrant the countless flowers!' The Dalit party demands Osho prove his sanity with a psychologist's certificate. One wonders: who will certify the certifiers? The spring in Konan—truth is not in arguments but in fragrant flowers.