But it was good that you were mentioning me when Anna Freud, Sigmund Freud’s youngest daughter, was dying, and she heard about me with deep love and reverence from you. She was not an orthodox woman. She was really representative of Sigmund Freud – the same quality of mind, the same sharpness, the same fearless intelligence to cut through all nonsense, superstitions. She was one of the most significant women of this century – and sensitive, alert.
I hope that what you felt, she also may have felt a little bit. At the moment of death, nothing could have been a greater gift to her – and she deserved it.
An old Tibetan is quoted as saying:
Like a lion, I have no fear.
Like an elephant, I have no anxiety.
Like a madman, I have no hope.
I tell you the honest truth.
Osho, what is so wondrous and precious about the honest truth?
In fact, to use these two words together shows a deep misunderstanding. “Honest truth” implies that there can be dishonest truth. Truth is enough. Honesty is a very ordinary quality that comes as a shadow of truth, with many other qualities. There is something immensely important about truth. But remember, never use the words “honest truth.” That means you have a suspicion: deep down, you yourself are not convinced of the truthfulness of truth. To substitute, to compensate, you add honesty to it.
Nothing can be added to truth. Truth is always pure, nude, alone. And there is great beauty, because truth is the very essence of life, existence, nature. Except for man, nobody lies. A rosebush cannot lie. It has to produce roses; it cannot produce marigolds – it cannot deceive. It is not possible for it to be other than it is. Except for man, the whole existence lives in truth. Truth is the religion of the whole of existence – except man.
The moment a man also decides to become part of existence, truth becomes his religion. It is the greatest revolution that is possible to happen to anyone. It is the glorious moment.
When I say that except for man everything is living truth – the ocean, the clouds, the stars, the stones, the flowers; everything is nothing but truthfulness, nothing but just itself with no mask, and only man is capable of deceiving others, of deceiving himself – it has to be remembered that this is a great opportunity. It has not to be condemned, it has to be praised because even if a rosebush or a lotus wants to lie, it cannot. Its truth is not freedom; its truth is a bondage. It cannot go beyond the boundaries.
Man has the prerogative, the privilege of being untrue. That means man has the freedom to choose. If he chooses to be truthful, he is not choosing bondage, he is choosing truth and freedom. Freedom is his privilege. In the whole of existence, nobody else has freedom.