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Chapter 9: The Master Is a Mirror

You have also asked about witnessing, watching the breath and where one should watch. Anywhere - because the point is not where you are watching, the point is that you are watching. The emphasis is on watching, watchfulness. All those points are just excuses. You can watch the breath at the tip of the nose where the breath goes in, you can watch it while it is going in, you can watch it when it returns - you can watch it anywhere. You can watch thoughts moving inside. The whole point is not to get lost in what you are watching, as if that is important. That is not important. The important thing is that you are watchful, that you have not forgotten to watch, that you are watching.watching.watching.

And slowly, slowly, as the watcher becomes more and more solid, stable, unwavering, a transformation happens. The things that you were watching disappear. For the first time, the watcher itself becomes the watched, the observer itself becomes the observed. You have come home.

Osho,
I have not expected anything from you, yet you have tricked me and given me some beautiful things. Is there anything a sannyasin has to ask for, or does everything happen on its own?

Everything happens on its own, but a sannyasin has to be alert not to miss the train. The train comes on its own, but you have to be alert. All around you so much is happening; every twenty-four hours - awake, asleep - you have to be watchful of what is happening. And the more you are alert, the more you will be surprised. The same things are happening that were happening before, but the meaning has changed, the significance is different.

The roseflower is the same, but now it is radiant, surrounded by some new energy that you were not aware of before - a new beauty. It seems you used to see only the outer side of the rose; now you are able to see its inner world. You used to watch the palace from the outside; now you have entered into its innermost chambers. You have seen the moon hundreds of times, but when you see it silently, peacefully, meditatively, you become aware of a beauty that you were not aware of before, a beauty that is not ordinarily available, for which you need to grow some insight. And that insight grows in silence, in peace.

It happened - a very significant incident. One of the Indian poets, Rabindranath Tagore, translated one of his small books of poems, Gitanjali: “Offering Of Songs.” He was awarded the Nobel Prize for that small book. In India it had been available for at least fifteen years. But unless a book meets the international standards of language and gains international appreciation, it is difficult for it to get a Nobel Prize.