Where are you going? I leave you stay.

OUR BELOVED MASTER,
WHEN IMPO TOOK LEAVE OF MA TZU, MA TZU ASKED, ”WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

Ma Tzu is one of the great enlightened masters; and not just great, but also very strange – I have talked about Ma Tzu to you. There is no comparison to Ma Tzu anywhere. His whole behavior is just absolutely unique.

He walked on all fours, just like an animal. Because he was so much in tune with nature, he dropped the idea of standing on two feet. He said, ”Standing on two feet has created the mind.” That’s why animals don’t have any religion, don’t have any God. Animals are far better; they don’t go to any church, they don’t bow down to any stone cut into the image of God. Animals simply pass by; donkeys don’t care. It is only man who seems to be stupid.

If animals had languages – and there is a suspicion amongst scientists they have; they have symbols, they have certain languages, different kinds, not exactly like human beings – then they must be laughing. In secrecy they must be blinking their eyes to each other, ”Look at that fellow who is bowing down before a monkey god!”

Ma Tzu’s idea was that the brain developed because man stood on two feet. And there is great understanding in it. The brain cannot develop – science is in agreement with Ma Tzu. The brain cannot develop if you go on moving on all fours, because when you are horizontal, moving like an animal, the brain gets so much blood flow that small, very small invisible nerves cannot grow in the brain. The flood of blood destroys them.

As man stood on two feet, the blood reaching to the head became a very small quantity, because it is going against gravitation. Everything is pulled down and your heart has to pump blood upstairs. It is a difficult task. That’s why only man has heart attacks – not animals; only man is continuously sick and ill, because he is fighting with gravitation all the time. The earth is pulling everything down and you are taking everything up, against gravitation. So it is a struggle.

Ma Tzu moved on all fours just to go beyond mind and be in tune with nature. Everybody laughed. They said, ”This is strange!”

And he looked like a tiger. He had such shiny eyes that he would look at you like a tiger. The disciples who gathered around Ma Tzu were men of great courage, because he used to jump on people, beat them. Ma Tzu devised beating and slapping and jumping on people as methods of meditation! You won’t believe it, but he managed to make more people enlightened than even Gautam Buddha, because he had found a secret in it. When he jumped on you, suddenly your mind stopped. You could not think, ”What is happening?” You could not figure it out, it had never happened before.

Mind knows only what has happened; mind knows only what you have learned. Nobody has jumped on you, you have seen nobody walking on all fours. When you first see Ma Tzu walking on all fours, your brain is in shock: what is the matter? And then he looks at you as if he is a tiger – that gives you another shock – and then suddenly he grabs you, and he was a very strong man, of course, just like any gorilla, and he sits on your chest and asks you, ”Got it?”

And one has to say, ”Got it!” because if you don’t, he may do something else. He may beat you, slap you, he can do anything. But his very jumping on you stopped your mind functioning. Something absolutely absurd is happening, mind cannot function. Mind is a rational and logical mechanism. With absurdity it cannot function.

So when Impo told Ma Tzu that he wanted to go, Ma Tzu asked, ”Where are you going?”

IMPO REPLIED, ”I AM GOING TO SEKITO.”

Sekito had become very famous by that time, and many people were coming to Sekito.

MA TZU WARNED, ”THE PATH ON THE STONE-HEAD IS SLIPPERY!”

You can go, but remember that fellow Sekito Stonehead... Because he remained always on a rock, sitting on a rock, and he had a shaved head which looked also like rock, he was called ”Sekito Stonehead.” He was in his own right a unique master. Even Ma Tzu recognized his uniqueness, and when Ma Tzu recognizes, it is a recognition.

Ma Tzu said, ”Be careful. The path on the stone-head is very slippery.”

IMPO SAID, ”I HAVE THE POLE OF AN ACROBAT WITH ME...”

You must have seen people walking on a tightrope. Whenever anybody walks on the tightrope he has to keep a pole in his hand, just to balance. He has to continuously balance otherwise he will fall down from the rope. The whole trick is balancing, and that balancing needs... sometimes you feel you are going more towards the left, then just put the pole towards the right so it balances you. When you feel you are going towards the right, then turn your pole towards the left. That pole is just a help to keep you balancing between right and left, and you just remain in the middle. Without a pole no acrobat can walk on a tightrope. The pole is the whole secret. It is his support; otherwise, if he moves towards the left and he has nothing to support him and make the weight balanced, he will fall.

This man Impo said, ”I HAVE THE POLE OF AN ACROBAT WITH ME.” He used to be a tightrope walker, so he said, ”Don’t be worried. Howsoever slippery the way of Stonehead Sekito, I have the pole with me, I have walked on tightropes. Don’t be worried; I will keep my balance impeccably.”

”I CAN MAKE A SHOW WITH IT WHENEVER I WANT,” AND WITH THAT HE LEFT.

WHEN HE GOT TO SEKITO, IMPO WENT AROUND SEKITO’S ZEN STOOL ONE TIME, SWUNG HIS STICK WITH A SHOUT AND ASKED, ”WHAT IS THE DHARMA OF THIS?”

This is an important question. He is asking, ”What is the truth of this?” By striking the stick on the stone where Sekito is sitting, he is asking, ”What is the nature of thisness?” In Gautam Buddha’s language, what is the meaning of tathata, suchness? Buddha’s whole teaching can be brought to this one word: suchness, thisness, isness, the present moment. What is the meaning of this present moment?

When he asked, ”WHAT IS THE DHARMA OF THIS?” SEKITO SAID, ”HOW SAD! HOW SAD!”

Why did he say that? He is saying it because, if you know this, you will not ask the question. And you cannot ask the question if you don’t know this.

You see the problem: if you know this – this moment, this suchness, this silence – if you know this, you will not ask the question. And if you don’t know this, how can you ask the question without knowing it?

That’s why he said: ”HOW SAD! HOW SAD!” You know the question only, but you don’t understand what you are asking. This question cannot be asked, it can only be experienced. It seems you are a knowledgeable person, you must have read scriptures where it is described. Again and again, Buddha says, ”This very moment is all.” If you can understand the secret of this moment, you have understood everything of existence, because existence is always in the present. It is never in the past, never in the future. The past is your memory; the future is your imagination. Existence remains always in the present. It has no past, no future.

So if you understand isness, the presence of the present moment, you have understood all the secrets and all the mysteries. There is nothing beyond it.

But he is asking the question as a scholar, not as a meditator. That’s why Sekito said, ”How sad! How sad! You know the right question but you don’t know the right experience. And without the experience the question becomes meaningless. If you had the experience you would not have asked it, you would have just sat by my side and experienced thisness. It surrounds this mountain. This silence, this immense tranquility and calmness... you disturbed it by striking your stick on my stone. That was the only disturbance in the silence of the mountain. Otherwise it was so quiet. And I feel so sad for you that you are only a man of the mind, that you don’t know the secret of no-mind.”

Mind cannot know anything about existence, it can only know through scriptures, statements of others. All its knowledge is borrowed. It cannot know any direct experience, and only direct experience liberates you.

”HOW SAD...” Impo did not have anything to say, he could not figure out what to say. He had never expected that this man would say, ”How sad! How sad!” This is not the answer to his question! And now he is feeling embarrassed.

IMPO DIDN’T HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY, BUT HE WENT BACK TO MA TZU AND TOLD HIM THE STORY. MA TZU SAID, ”YOU GO AGAIN, AND WHEN SEKITO SAYS, ‘HOW SAD,’ YOU START CRYING.”

Ma Tzu is playing a game, just as Sekito is playing a game. Between both of them they are trying to make him aware of this moment. Now Ma Tzu is saying, ”You got into trouble. I had told you from the very beginning that Sekito’s path is very slippery. Now you know. You have come back immediately. Just one question and you forgot your pole! Now go again and ask the same question.” This is the strategy of Ma Tzu. He is putting him again into difficulty. He is telling him, ”Go and ask the same question, and when Sekito says, ‘How sad,’ you start crying.”

SO IMPO WENT TO SEKITO AGAIN AND ASKED IN THE SAME MANNER, ”WHAT IS THE DHARMA OF THIS?”

AT THAT, SEKITO STARTED CRYING.

This was a great device between two masters, who have not talked to each other, who don’t know each other, they have never met! But both are enlightened.

This monk does not understand the language of enlightenment. When Ma Tzu sent him back with an answer, he knew perfectly well that Sekito is not going to repeat again, ”How sad! How sad!” because no enlightened man ever repeats anything. He responds always freshly to the new situation.

Now, this is a new situation. The first time Impo came without knowing what he was going to say; now he comes knowing perfectly well what he is going to say. This has changed the whole situation. This man comes now, knowing his old response. But the old response is no longer applicable. And somebody else’s answer cannot be your answer.

So Ma Tzu gave him the answer, ”You go again. He will say, ‘How sad, how sad.’” He knew he would not say that! – ”And when he says that, you start crying.” He supplied the answer.

But any answer supplied by anyone is of no use, because every moment the enlightened person responds afresh. So when Sekito was asked again, ”What is the dharma of this?”...

AT THAT, SEKITO STARTED CRYING.

Now he is saying, ”This is too much! I was already sad; now sadness seems not to have affected you. You are still asking the same question! It makes me cry!”

Again the poor Impo is left without any answer, because he was given the answer, ”You should cry.” Now Sekito himself is crying, what to do?

IMPO AGAIN WAS LEFT WITHOUT ANY WORD, AND RETURNED TO MA TZU. MA TZU COMMENTED, ”I TOLD YOU – THE PATH ON THE STONE-HEAD IS SLIPPERY!”

”Where is your pole? You slipped twice! You make me ashamed!” – that’s what Ma Tzu is saying – ”Being my disciple, you slipped twice, and you could not answer.”

That reminds me about a small story that will help you to understand.
There were two temples in Japan, both antagonistic to each other. One belonged to Shinto, another belonged to Zen. And for centuries they had been quarreling, arguing against each other. Both had masters, and they both had young boys, because the masters were old and they needed somebody to help them, to bring vegetables or cook food. Those small boys helped them.

Both told the small boys, ”Don’t talk to the other boy of the other temple – never! We have been enemies for centuries, we are not on talking terms.”

But boys are boys, and because both were prevented, both were anxious... So one day, going to the market to fetch some vegetables, they met on the road. And one boy asked the other – this was the Shinto boy, coming from the Shinto temple. He asked the Zen boy, ”Where are you going?”

And the Zen boy said, ”Wherever the wind takes me.” He had been listening to his master, all kinds of things, so he had also got the taste of Zen. He said, ”Wherever the wind takes me.”

The Shinto boy was shocked at this. What to answer? He wanted to make friends, but this boy seemed to be completely uninterested; he had completely cut him short. There was no way for conversation – now what to say? He is saying, ”Wherever the wind takes me...”

Very sad, he came to his master and told him, ”I did not obey you, I am sorry. I was just inquisitive, curious to know about the other boy. I was feeling alone, and I thought he must be also feeling alone. And your temples may have been for centuries antagonistic, but we are just boys. We can be friends.

”But you were right; it was not good to ask. Certainly those people are dangerous. I asked the boy, ‘Where are you going?’ and he said, ‘Wherever the wind takes me.’”

The master said, ”I had warned you. Now tomorrow, you go again and stand at the same place, and when that Zen boy comes, you ask him again: ‘Where are you going?’ And when he says, ‘Wherever the wind takes me,’ just ask him, ‘If the wind is not blowing, then...?’”

The boy went. He stood at the same place, watched. The Zen boy was coming. He asked him, ”Where are you going?” And the boy said, ”Wherever the legs take me.”

Now he could not answer what the master said, ”If the wind is not blowing...” It would be absurd to answer that. He came very sad to the Shinto master and said, ”Those people are very strange! That boy changed his whole approach! I asked the same question, but he said, ‘Wherever the legs take me.’”

The master said, ”I have been warning you. Now you are unnecessarily getting defeated and that means a defeat for our temple. This is not good. You go again! And tomorrow you stand in the same place, and when the boy comes you ask, ‘Where are you going?’ and when he says ‘Wherever the legs take me,’ ask him: ‘If you were crippled, then would you go anywhere or not?’”

So, utterly happy, the boy went again, stood in the same place, watched. The boy came out of the temple. He asked, ”Where are you going?” utterly happy that now he knows the answer.

And the boy said, ”I am going to fetch some vegetables.” Now the situation again becomes absolutely different. He cannot say, ”If you were crippled...” he cannot say, ”If the wind is not blowing...” So he returned, very angry, and said to the master, ”Those people are strange! Even the boy is strange.”

The master said, ”I have been telling you, but you won’t understand.”

The story is exactly the same. The significance is that each moment is so new and so fresh that nothing old is to be repeated. That Zen boy has understood from his master and his constant dialogue with the disciples that nothing can be repeated, because the situation is never the same.

So every moment you have to respond freshly – out of your consciousness, just like a mirror. If a mirror is there and you look into it, you will see your face. And if a monkey looks at it, then the monkey will see his face. If a donkey looks at it, then the donkey will see his face. The mirror is the reflecting medium, it has no opinion. You cannot say that the mirror is very self-contradictory, that it is not consistent: sometimes it shows the face of a man, sometimes the monkey, sometimes the donkey, what kind of mirror is this? One should be consistent! Zen is not consistent with the past, but absolutely consistent with the present. Its consistency is a totally different phenomenon to anything that has happened anywhere in the world. It is unique.

Philosophers are consistent with their past statements. Whatever they have said before, they will continue to be consistent with their answers their whole life, but such a consistency is dead. The day he first made the statement, it died. And he goes on repeating the same statement although the situation goes on changing.

Zen has a consistency not in time, but with existence. It simply watches existence and whatever comes up. It is not made up. When the boy the first time said, ”Wherever the wind takes me,” that was his response in that moment. Of course next time he cannot repeat it, because the boy must have come with a ready-made answer, and ready-made answers are not applicable in the world of Zen.

Although he is just a boy, he has lived in a Zen atmosphere where he has understood one thing: never repeat, because existence never repeats. You will not find two persons similar in the whole world. You will not find in a tree two leaves exactly the same; you will not find two roses exactly the same. Existence never repeats. It always creates an original; it does not believe in carbon copies.

Ready-made answers don’t function in the atmosphere of Zen.

So each time you can expect a Zen master to be fresh. He is always young and always fresh, and he responds to the situation. He is not concerned with his memory of past answers. He has nothing to do with them. He is always available to the present, just like a mirror.

Buson wrote:
I LEAVE,
YOU STAY –
TWO AUTUMNS.

What does he mean by this haiku? Autumn is very beautiful in Japan; hence it comes again and again in haikus. It is one of the most beautiful times of the year. Buson is a Zen master, awakened, enlightened. And when he says, ”I leave. I am going – you stay,” he is talking to the autumn. The autumn is going and it almost hurts that autumn is going. So he says to the autumn, ”You stay. I will go. I am also another autumn; just as you are beautiful, glorious, so am I. Instead of you, I can go, you remain.”

It shows tremendous compassion: ”Why are you going when I am ready to go in your place? And people love you, they enjoy you. They dance when autumn comes. Don’t disturb their joy. As far as going is concerned, I am ready to go.”

I LEAVE, YOU STAY –
TWO AUTUMNS.

”You are an autumn, I am also an autumn. You have blossomed, I have also blossomed. So there is no problem, I can replace you. You be here.”

It is as if you are talking to a roseflower which is going to drop its leaves and disappear. And you feel tremendous compassion for the rose and you say, ”Don’t go away. I can go away; you remain.

People love you so much. They rejoice when you dance in the wind and in the rain and in the sun. Everybody loves you. And my time is over. I have blossomed, I have come to my ultimate peak. There is no further to go. I have come to the end of the road. I can go; you remain.”

Only a Zen master can talk this kind of dialogue because he feels in tune with existence. Whether it is spring or autumn or summer or winter it doesn’t matter. He feels himself in tune with the universe. And he would like whatever is beautiful to remain for other people to enjoy. He is ready to go, to disappear into this vast ocean of existence. It is a tremendously stunning haiku.

I LEAVE, YOU STAY – TWO AUTUMNS.

Just as you have a beautiful atmosphere, I am also just the same inside. My autumn has come. So I can leave. There is no need for you to go. People love you so much.

God is Dead, Now Zen is the Only Living Truth 192 ♡♥Osho♡♥