BELOVED OSHO, YOU HAVE SAID THAT ALL YOUR WORDS OF THE PAST ARE NOT IMPORTANT. SO WHAT ARE ALL YOUR BOOKS FOR?
Jesus! I have never said that my books of the past are not important! But you may have heard that. What I had said is that to me truth is not something unchanging. Anything unchanging is dead.
Truth is alive, breathing, moving. So when I am saying something to you now, don't be bothered about the past -- what I said twenty years before. And I say to you, if I am still here tomorrow, the truth will have become more potent, deeper, higher. My books of the past are not unimportant.
I am just like a tree. When it comes to blossom, do you think now the roots are unimportant, the trunk is no longer needed, the leaves are unnecessary, because the tree has blossomed, the flowers have come? No, you don't say that. You know perfectly well that those flowers are intrinsically connected with the hidden roots in the earth. It is all one process. The flowers cannot exist without the leaves, without the branches, without the trunk, without the roots. But when flowers are there, don't be bothered to compare them with the roots. Then you will find great contradictions, inconsistencies.
There are. What is consistent between the roots and the flower? What is consistent between the branches and the leaves and the flower? The leaves may be green and the flower is red -- so contradictory, so inconsistent! The roots are ugly, the flower is so beautiful -- what is consistent? But when the flowers are there, you know perfectly well that those roots underground are the base. The trunk, the branches are moving -- a movement towards the flowers, the leaves. They all help the flower.
I have lived in many places, but I don't own any house. I am a houseless wanderer. I have always been a guest of somebody. But wherever I have been, I have created beautiful gardens.
In one place the land was big. It was impossible for just me alone to make the whole land green. I searched for a gardener, the best -- because less than that does not satisfy me. This gardener was receiving awards every year, because every year there was a competition to see who brings the biggest flowers, the most beautiful. From the whole province people were participating, but this old man, a poor gardener, had been getting the first prize for years. I asked him, "Would you love to be with me and be my gardener?"
He had never lived in such a big bungalow -- he was a poor man. He was very happy, he had never had such a big piece of land. And I said, "All the facilities will be provided, you don't be worried. Whatever salary you want, you just say. It is up to you to decide."
A poor man, he said, "Thirty rupees per month would be enough."
I said, "No. Thirty rupees for a man who creates so much beauty? Sixty will be okay." He could not believe me, he thought I was mad -- and perhaps he was right.
Sixty rupees in those days was a great salary; the headmaster of a school or the head clerk of a big government office was getting it. And I was alone in the big bungalow. I said, "You take as many rooms of this bungalow as you want -- free of charge. I am a guest, I don't pay anything; you are my guest, there is no problem. And every facility that you need for the garden will be provided. Go and find out, purchase all beautiful plants, flowers, trees, and make this barren land...."
It had remained barren for many years, because somehow the rumor spread that the house was haunted. The owner could not sell it. Who is going to purchase a haunted house? The owner was very nervous when he offered it to me -- he loved me. And I said, "That's perfectly... that is a beautiful building" -- it was Victorian architecture -- "I would love it."
He thought perhaps I didn't know that the house was haunted. He said, "But one thing I have to say to you -- I don't want to keep you in the dark -- the house has been empty for years, and nobody purchases it, nobody rents it, because the whole city know the house is haunted."
I said, "That's great! In such a big house, to live alone does not feel good. If a few ghosts are there, it will be good company."
The gardener brought all kinds of plants and flowers, and he started working, because in the next competition he had to bring the greatest rose flowers. But what did he do? On each rosebush he went on cutting the buds. He would leave only one bud and cut all the other buds.
When I came to know of it, I said, "What are you doing?"
He said, "This is the only way to bring the biggest flowers, because then all the juices of the tree start moving into one flower to make it blossom. If there are many flowers, then the juices are divided."
I said, "You forget about your annual exhibition. From now onwards I will give you the award for not cutting a single bud! It is not important that the rose should be big, it is enough that it is a rose. And you are being murderous." I wanted to make it clear to you that the roses are there, but the juice is flowing from the roots.
Whatever I have said in these thirty years -- and I have been speaking continuously, except for those few years when I was silent -- every single word is important, because they are all interconnected. You may find contradictions, you may find inconsistencies. Don't be afraid; life is full of contradictions, full of inconsistencies. And I don't know any other god than life itself.
I have never said that my books of the past are not important. But this goes on happening: I say one thing, you hear something else. I have said on.
Osho.
From the False to the Truth Chapter #11 Chapter title: That explosion of bliss