Going For the Diamonds

The flavour of the word “impermanence” is somehow scary. Just to say it, I feel the earth move under my feet, the world spinning round, and the picture of my own death coming ever closer. The creation and destruction of the Earth are contained within that word. It’s wonderful and terrifying at the same time.

I remember how, often in my childhood people who hadn’t seen me for a while would say “She has grown, hasn’t she?” and inside I felt annoyed to be measured in that way. But they could see the change and I couldn’t - because I was inside the body that was growing. It’s hard for us to see the impermanence that is happening all around and within us because the change is so slow and we are in it; however, there are certain moments that bring it up closer for inspection. And Osho brings it to our attention many times, in many different ways – by telling us straight and by leading us through the experience of it.

The occasion that comes to mind immediately is Osho’s departure from the physical world, which happened on 19^th January, 1990. At the time I was staying at Osho Ko Hsuan, the Osho school for kids in Devon, England. I had very much wanted to be in Pune but could not because of bad health. I was teaching maths and other subjects and my living space was a funky trailer in the grounds, which used propane for heating and for the water heater. It was pretty cold in the trailer due to the almost complete lack of insulation, and I was sleeping alone at that time, so a hot water bottle was a high priority at night! During the week before the 19^th I had intense nightmares every night, and would wake up feeling scared and worried. Waking up to a cold trailer, alone in the grounds added to the feelings. The nightmares were all about the end of the world – fires raging, nothing to drink or eat, people in panic, the whole structure of society falling apart.

On the morning of the 19^th just by chance I had run out of propane, and the trailer was feeling particularly cold. At around 10:00 am the who school was doing the Friday morning deep clean, a wonderful ritual where everyone would clean intensely for 2 hours and then be rewarded with a yummy jam doughnut. I was in the kitchen with several others scrubbing away, the music blaring, when Nisheetha picked up the phone. I saw her crying and wondered what had happened. “Osho’s dead” she said. Just two words to blow my world apart. The music stopped and we all stood in shock.

My first response was that my dreams were all true – the world is going to end. In my mind, the only hope for this beautiful earth is Osho and his passionate fight against all the destructive and negative forces in the world. I only remember feeling numb after that. My mother, with her antenna in full operation, called about an hour later. It was extremely unusual for her to call me in the daytime, out of the blue, and I was a little peeved that she should call me at such an important moment. She was not all that sympathetic, as my sannyasin-hood was against her choice, but it seemed to be fitting that she called. Someone helped me with a new propane bottle up to the trailer and we joked about running out of propane and losing a master all in one day.

Later on, everyone gathered in the main hall to hear Osho songs and Osho quotes. That’s when it really hit me and I started balling my eyes out. A little hand touched my head and a little voice said, “Don’t cry Suvarna. Osho said we should celebrate his death.”  I don’t remember which kid it was, but it was so incredibly sweet. The kids had organized a disco in one of the classrooms and were dancing away in there. I went there to try to do as my master had asked, but the sadness was too strong and I slipped away after one dance. I sat outside my trailer, listening to the wind, and trying to feel Osho now that he was no more in the body. And yes, I felt him in the wind and the trees of the beautiful Devon countryside.

The next day a major hurricane blew in and it really was dramatic. End of the world stuff again! Trees came down, windows blew in, the top floor of the school building was shaking, tiles came loose, the power went out…. We were without power for ten days, but somehow this was a blessing as normal school life was halted and we concentrated on keeping life together without electricity. It gave me more time to absorb the change that had just happened.

Of course, Osho had told us so many times that Existence will decide its timing for him to leave. I knew, theoretically speaking, it would happen one day, but I was not prepared for it to happen. I have been a sannyasin since I was eighteen – from family home to commune, almost. Through all the outward changes that have happened to me since then, Osho’s presence has been the most constant and grounding thing in my life, the only thing I haven’t doubted. I wasn’t ready for that presence to be taken away (or so I thought at the time).

I could understand what had happened on a physical level, but could not accept that it had to happen then, when he was only 58. Why does Existence’s timing give him so few years on the Earth? Why did he have to leave when I didn’t feel ready, mature enough? Couldn’t we sannyasins have prevented his going to jail by being more alert about all the bad stuff that happened on the Ranch, by protecting his safety more? What if, what if….

Strangely enough, his leaving helped me very much, and his presence has not gone away. I realized I had been depending on him for my own growth, despite him telling us a million times not to. So I decided to get going and do some serious work on myself. A few years of intense therapy later, my heavy emotional load had been lightened tremendously – I had really moved on. Still, some part of me can never accept that he left when he did. Yes, life is impermanent, but can’t it last just a little longer?

These days I am watching the environmental news with great interest. It seems that every piece of news is another validation of my end of the world feeling. The coral reefs are dying, the rainforests are burning, each year brings record temperatures, the genetic makeup of our food is being tampered with. The one thing that always seemed to be stable – our beloved earth, the air we breathe, the food we eat – now seems threatened. If we change job or relationship it seems like a big upheaval, but what about if we can’t live on the earth any more? Yes, even our planet is impermanent. Whether mankind causes the changes or Existence provides them, it can change so that we are not able to live on it. Then the ultimate test of our trust in Existence will happen.

Osho often joked that if this earth were destroyed we would all meet again on another planet, and he would be able to find his people by our singing and dancing. I hope so! When I look at life in that context, I have just to be grateful for his presence here – in the body or out of it – and for my time in the physical plane. 

“The New Man will have the spirit of adventure; his concern will not be security, his concern will be ecstasy.” (Secret of Secrets, Vol. 1, Chapter 14)

When I look at the big picture, this statement seems so right on. Our life is so short and we may die at any moment. If I’ve only thought of security I know that at the moment of death I’m going to regret it. What this means for me is that I have to do everything that I need to in order to experience my full potential. Anything left unsaid or undone will be a burden.

About a year ago I realized that unless I made a CD of my own music, I would die unfulfilled. And so I did. It took about a year and was a wonderful process of discovering my inner music – I had always played other people’s music before that. It will be released early next year. Strangely, I was a little worried during the recording that I would die before it was finished (I don’t know why – I’m fairly healthy!). After it was made I felt complete, and now I feel myself more present in the day-to-day world, not thinking about the future so much.

Lately, I have been feeling really empty inside. It’s as if parts of my identity are simply floating away unobserved, leaving just a space behind them. It feels a little weird, but I’m getting used to it now. Outside, life goes on as before – work, taking care of things, relating – and on the inside it’s unclear who is doing all this. It’s certainly not the one I always thought it was.

Osho answered one of my questions in the Invitation, and it seems to fit very much with the topic of the ever-changingness of life. I asked him about a particular experience, and how I was longing for it to come back again. He very kindly encouraged me to let go of every experience and never look back. He told that wonderful story of the poor woodcutter who was told again and again by an old master on the side of the road “Just go a little further and you will find more and better treasures. Never look back.” I think I can say that I have been doing that ever since. Perhaps moving a little slower than needed, but still I’ve been gradually finding the copper, silver and gold mines. Now for that diamond mine….