“Dear Mother,” wrote Paddy to his old, old mother. “I am sending some pills that a witch doctor gave me, and if you take one it will take years off your life.”
Paddy came home a few weeks later, and there was a beautiful young woman outside his house, rocking a pram in which a baby lay sucking a bottle. “Where is my mother?” asked Paddy.
“Don’t be silly,” said the woman, “I am your mother. And those pills were marvelous.”
“Imagine that,” said Paddy. “Only one pill – and what is more, you were able to have a baby.”
“Are you crazy?” cried the woman. “That is not a baby. That is your father. He took two.”
Greed can be dangerous; but there has been no greed, only a misunderstanding. There has not really been greed or exhibitionism. But mind will always use that strategy: whenever you are moving in the right way, the mind will suggest that something is wrong. And the strangest thing about mind is, when you are going wrong it will remain silent; it will not say anything at all. Take it as a criterion: when mind says that something is wrong, do it. When mind says something is right, don’t do it. That’s how one gets free from the fetters of the mind.
Please expose me. Is this what Zarathustra calls “The cruel honesty”? Is sincerity a high value in life? Beloved Osho, did I get the joke? Can you give me the right number to phone? Do I need to be sent to Goa, or can you and this beautiful commune forgive me, so I can start afresh?
Dhyan Om, it is not what Zarathustra calls “The cruel honesty,” it is a very mild form. But if you insist on being a nut, I may have to use cruel honesty too. But your nut has to be broken.
You are asking, “Is sincerity a high value in life?” It is the highest value in life. A life which is not sincere is not worth living at all. A life which is not sincere is fake – it is pseudo; you are playing a role in which your heart is absent, you are saying things which you don’t mean. You are living as if on somebody else’s behalf. And you call it life! Sincerity and life are synonymous.
You are also asking me, “Did I get the joke? Can you give me the right number to phone? Do I need to be sent to Goa, or can you and this beautiful commune forgive me, so I can start afresh?”