Take It Easy Vol 1 ~ 12
|date & time||22 Apr 1978 am|
|location||Buddha Hall, Poona|
|audio||Available, duration 1h 29min. Quality: good.|
|online text||find the PDF of this discourse|
- Reader of the questions: n/a; questions are being read by Osho himself.
- Question 1 from Chinmaya
- Though your lecture was quite serious and deep yesterday, there were strange tickles and laughter arising in me. Somewhere deep within, there was a sense of humour as a subtle undercurrent. Tears often rolled down!
- Do the moments of clarity and insight give birth to sense of humour? And what are the tears?
- Question 2
- Is the purpose of the therapy groups to bring the participants to their natural self? If so, isn't the effort to be natural unnatural? If not, what is the essential difference between natural and unnatural?
- Question 3 from Vidya
- How to be total? How to give everything?
- Question 4 from Samvedana
- You say that you want the new commune to be separate from the rest of the world. What I see is that the ashram is the marketplace. Please comment.
- Question 5
- Rene Descartes says, "Cogito, ergo sum -- I think, therefore I am." There is another statement which is now going round in the West: "Coito, ergo sum -- I love, therefore I am," or, "I copulate, therefore I am." What is the difference between the two statements?
- Question 6 from Prageeta
- Nothing to do, nowhere to go. You say it so clear. Your words fall like a crystal-clear waterfall on my head. Some keep dancing in my heart. Yet I wonder. What are we doing here?
- Question 7 from Katya
- Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they are too near
- Your slightest look will easily unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as spring opens (touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose.
- Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will close very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending;
- Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries rendering death and forever in each breathing
- (I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.
- E.E. Cummings
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