If you cannot be silent when there is storm and darkness, your silence is not true.
It is only a question of looking at things in a right way. The storm is so beautiful, so fresh, is bringing you news of a constantly changing life.
The old leaves are dropping, without making any fuss about it, to make way for the new leaves to come. The very dropping of the old leaves… if watchfully, consciously understood, you have understood the secret of relaxation.
The dead leaf does not cling to the tree, neither the tree clings to the dead leaf; they depart peacefully, in silence. They loved, they lived, and it is now time to depart.
As far as I am concerned, just as the storm has come again, I have come again. I was not going to come, it is the storm that persuaded me: "I am going again — you will be missed."
I wanted you to know that I am not an old-style Zen master, but I also hit — in my own way, more sophisticated. I also destroy your clingings, your egos; I also destroy your taking me for granted, because one day suddenly I will be gone, just like the storm will be gone. Before I am gone, I would like you to blossom into the biggest roses possible.
Iit can be of great value to understand that it is absolutely wrong to take my presence for granted. Then it becomes a routine, and you forget completely that one day I will be gone.
Before I go I would like to see you all blossom in mystical roses, releasing your fragrance.
I have loved you as no master has ever loved his disciples. Gautam Buddha would not have loved you at all. Yes, he was compassionate, but being compassionate is not the same as loving. Compassion is dry, compassion is a distance; one is higher and one is very far down in the darkness.
I am not compassionate to you; I authentically love you. My love is not dry; it is not in any way a feeling of superiority, of taking your dignity and reducing you to inferiority. I give you so much honor, as has never been given by any master to any disciple.
Because to me, being a master or being a disciple is just a fiction. The difference is very small: whatever I am, I know; and whatever you are, you do not know. Only this much difference does not make somebody superior and somebody inferior.
You are exactly the same universal soul which any Gautam Buddha or Zarathustra or Bodhidharma has experienced. It is within your reach any moment to enter into the ultimate, into the very roots of your being, and all differences between the disciple and the master disappear.
The whole function of the master is very strange. He is destroying his mastership continuously, as he is making you more and more aware. The day you become fully aware — and I will be able to rejoice in seeing my garden full of roses — there will not be any difference between my heart and your heart.
We are all part of one universal heartbeat. And in every possible way — even impossible way — I am trying to bring that synchronicity between you and the universal which is your real and original face.
OSHO