Except through meditation, nobody has come to know about eternity, about immortality, about the timelessness of our being. Therefore to me religion simply means meditation. Anything else is superfluous, nonessential.
This is the miracle of meditation: that it does not divide people. There is no Christian meditation, there is no Hindu meditation, there is no Mohammedan meditation, and there is no Jewish meditation.
Meditation is a science.
All that is nonessential in religions divides people; and the non-essential becomes so big, so heavy, that the small key of meditation is lost or forgotten.
People feel offended with me, annoyed with me, irritated, because I want them not to be Hindus, not to be Christians, not to be Jainas – but only to be meditators…because meditation is the only essential religion that can join you to your real self.
The word religion has to be understood. It means “bringing together.” You have gone far away from yourself. To bring you back together with your reality is the only religion there is.
Every day I come out of your discourse, having been sitting with you, listening to your voice and dancing to your music. Coming out of the gate the world looks so fresh, the green so deep and shiny, the play of the sun with the shadow so rich, and the people soft and open.
Osho, what’s the magic you use in cleaning my eyes? Is it this or is nature rejoicing too in the presence of such a beautiful master and showing its most celebrative and beautiful side to us? Is this your buddhafield flowing through everybody and everything present here?
It is both. Sitting here in silence, being showered by my silence, my serenity, everything in you becomes fresh, young. Silence is such a shower of the soul.
Listening to the music – not only listening, but participating, almost dancing with joy – you forget your ordinary worries and the world, the tensions and anxieties; those are the layers of dust on your eyes.
And just being with me here, something that is not visible to the eyes transpires between me and you. Some energy, which can only be called divine, passes from heart to heart. I can see that there are moments when you all disappear, and only one consciousness remains. You forget your individuality, your separateness. And this is such a rejuvenation, such a refreshment, such a rebirth, that when you go out – things are the same – but the green looks greener; the people look softer and more loving. The song of the birds, although meaningless, starts having a significance of its own. All your senses are at their maximum sensitivity. The light passing through the trees fills you with wonder. The wind passing through the trees whispers unknown secrets to you.