Milarepa quotes:

When you run after your thoughts, you are like a dog chasing a stick: every time a stick is thrown, you run after it. Instead, be like a lion who, rather than chasing after the stick, turns to face the thrower. One only throws a stick at a lion once.

Accustomed long to contemplating love and compassion I have forgotten all difference between myself and others

Desires achieved increase thirst like salt water.

When you are strong and healthy, You never think of sickness coming, But it descends with sudden force, Like a stroke of lightning. When involved in worldly things, You never think of death's approach; Quick it comes like thunder, Crashing round your head.

My religion is to live and die without regret.

Strong and healthy, who thinks of sickness until it strikes like lightning? Preoccupied with the world, who thinks of death, until it arrives like thunder?

[Osho had said] nothing short of ecstatic: like being loved deeper than I had ever been before; like being seen to the core by someone and showered completely with love. Soaking you! I have never felt the word 'yes' so deeply in my entire life.

The affairs of the world will go on forever. Do not delay the practice of meditation.

Deep in the wild mountains, is a strange marketplace,where you can trade the hassle and noise of everyday life, for eternal Light.

In the monastery of your heart, you have a temple where all Buddhas unite.

In brief, without being mindful of death, whatever Dharma practices you take up will be merely superficial.

Hasten slowly and ye shall soon arrive.

By late 1989, the Commune was flowering again in all dimensions. Like a rainbow.

[Osho] discourses took on more and more the flavor of Zen and it was clear he wanted each of us to become our own individual, not dependent on anybody else. Including him! Nor dependent on anything, even the Commune.

All meditation must begin with arousing deep compassion. Whatever one does must emerge from an attitude of love and benefitting others.

All worldly pursuits have but one unavoidable and inevitable end, which is sorrow; acquisitions end in dispersion; buildings in destruction; meetings in separation; births in death.

Every morning after discourse, I would take an hour to be alone and write. Very soon I realized what a unique opportunity it was to everyday expose myself and get Osho's immediate feedback. Sometimes he would accept my questions, sometimes he would reject them.

Expressing one's creativity in the service of meditation, you help create a special space where hearts can open and people can receive the many blessings. For a musician, a creator, this is ultimately fulfilling.

Life is short and the time of death is uncertain; so apply yourself to meditation. Avoid doing evil, and acquire merit, to the best of your ability, even at the cost of life itself. In short: Act so that you have no cause to be ashamed of yourselves and hold fast to this rule.

My religion is to live - and die - without regret.

I need nothing. I seek nothing. I desire nothing.

[Osho] knows our love arises from very deep feelings of gratitude. He knows we only want to do our best, to give our best to him, all that we are capable of, as this is our joy.

[Osho] silence and love say more than any words.

After the Ranch dissolved, I went to live and work in Los Angeles. Shunyo left the Ranch with Osho as part of His team of caretakers, so we were separated for some months during this time. In our six years together, although we were not always lovers we maintained a close friendship. I think we shared a mutual understanding that, in spite of the love we had for each other, ultimately we were sannyasins, fellow travelers, bound in spirit by a deeper love: Our love for the master.

All worldly pursuits have but one unavoidable and inevitable end, which is sorrow; acquisitions end in dispersion; buildings in destruction; meetings in separation; births in death. Knowing this, one should, from the very first, renounce acquisitions and storing-up, and building, and meeting; and, faithful to the commands of an eminent Guru, set about realizing the Truth. That alone is the best of religious observances.

Although work was, and still is, considered an important part of Osho's vision, in the last years of his life, he began to emphasize creativity as a way of expressing and sharing the fruits of our meditation.

As I see it, Pune One was a catharsis phase: a cleansing of our collective unconscious, helped along by the groups and therapies. It was as if Osho was creating a foundation to what would follow. Work came more and more into focus as the Commune, the sangha, grew and flowered.

As the days went by, I began to feel [Osho] steering me deeper into uncharted waters of myself by the ones he chose, and equally important by the ones he rejected. Each new morning, as I would prepare fresh questions, I would say to myself, "OK, he chose this one yesterday and rejected that one. Hmm ... so perhaps this is the direction I should take." As the days went by, I felt he was leading me into the unknown, introducing me to new dimensions, previously unexplored areas, of my being, taking me always deeper and deeper into myself.

Do not entertain hopes for realization, but practice all your life..

For instance, the music from Yes To The Riverhappened during the period when Osho moved the discourses from Chuang Tzu Auditorium to the newly-constructed Buddha Hall. Although the album features recordings from both venues, the overall feeling reflects a freshness, an innocence, that was prevalent in the Commune at this time. I think it comes across in the music. It's something very tangible.

He who knows that all things are his mind, That all with which he meets are friendly, Is ever joyful.

I always felt teasing came alongside a deeper meaning, as if [Osho] wanted to convey something immensely valuable to me.

I felt like I was standing in a deep valley looking at a far away Himalayan peak. I can see now this was more my own projection for my understanding since is: The master is only as far away as you are from yourself.

I had been at the Ranch about a year when we opened a nightclub in Portland, Oregon called Zorba the Buddha, where I played in a band every week for one-and-a-half years.

I had never asked a discourse question until Uruguay. I had always assumed, I think like many others, I had no questions to ask [Osho].

I had speaking darshans with Osho in the early days of sannyas, my relationship with him has never been a personal one. It was and still is an inner one, something deeply connected with the mysterious world of meditation. However, as I moved deeper into meditation, so did my relationship with Osho change and become more intimate.

I have a friend who still believes if Osho had never left India, we would all have been enlightened by now. I won't comment on this.

I have no desire for wealth or possessions, and so I have nothing. I do not experience the initial suffering of having to accumulate possessions, the intermediate suffering of having to guard and keep up possessions, nor the final suffering of loosing the possessions.

I knew without a doubt I had found what I had been searching for my whole life, perhaps lifetimes. I was groping in the dark, but I had seen a glimpse, a light, a possibility.

I must say, it felt great to be back in India. It was so much more relaxed than the West had been.

I was in England waiting for a flight to India, when I received a message from Shunyo (already in Bombay at this point) that Osho had answered one of my questions during the previous night's discourse. On hearing this, I experienced a love that knows no boundaries, no time.

I was in England, Osho was in India - both of us separated by oceans and continents - yet I understood time and distance made no difference in my connection with him. Days later, I arrived in Bombay and was soon at it again, writing fresh questions, and trying to provoke that divine smile. Touché!

I was wide-awake inside, red-alert. I started paying attention and tuning into what Osho was saying. He was talking about how ridiculous men look without a beard. And wouldn't it be strange if your girlfriend decided to grow a moustache? Then reality dawned. Oh my god, he was onto me! Then he says something like: "Just look at Milarepa, sitting there in the back looking like a complete idiot. He has shaved his beard and lost all his grandeur." It was Osho's way of saying hello.

I will say that cowboy hats and boots replaced our flowing robes and spiritual good looks. At least for the time being! In that central-Oregon desert where thousands would eventually come, work became our meditation.

I wrote one of my favorite songs during this time [in India]: Osho, We Your People. The words came to me while I was walking along Juhu Beach one evening - a balmy night under the stars, listening to the soft surf of the Arabian Sea. I hadn't felt so happy and content in a long time.

If one stays too long with friends They will soon tire of him; Living in such closeness leads to dislike and hate. It is but human to expect and demand too much When one dwells too long in companionship.

If you are a musician, in my opinion there is no greater experience than to play for one's master. It is the highest calling.

In 1980, Osho left India for America. I, like many other sannyasins, moved to Oregon where work had begun on the 'new commune'. Osho named it Rajneeshpuram.

In harvesting of evil deeds, the human race is busy; and doing so is to taste the pangs of Hell . . . The piling up of wealth is the piling up of others' property; what one thus storeth formeth but provisions for one's enemies... I wash off human scandal by devotion true; and by my zeal, I satisfy the Deities. By compassion, I subdue the demons; all blame I scatter to the wind, and upward turn my face.

In his own country, [Osho] suddenly seemed safe from the international, political attempts to harass him.

In horror of death, I took to the mountains - again and again I meditated on the uncertainty of the hour of death, capturing the fortress of the deathless unending nature of mind. Now all fear of death is over and done.

In Los Angeles, I had shaved my beard and dyed my hair black just for a change, to have some fun.

In the beginning, my mind and its strategies to avoid meditation were very strong. I spent a lot of time and energy circling around the periphery of the Commune, Osho, and myself.

In the gap between thoughts nonconceptual wisdom shines continuously.

In the last few Uruguayan discourses, Osho was mostly saving my questions for the end. It was as if he wanted to end the discourse on a special note, leaving us all in an ambience of his choosing. I would invariably watch him disappear around the corner, chuckling to himself, leaving in his wake a room overflowing with laughter, love, and the fragrance of the divine.

Know emptiness, Be compassionate.

Life with Osho to me is like a river: always moving, always changing course, always unpredictable.

Many times I felt I was on the razor's edge. I never quite knew which way the wind was going to blow when I asked a question to [Osho].

Mental activity in the daytime creates a latent form of habitual thought which again transforms itself at night into various delusory visions sensed by the semi-consciousness. This is called the deceptive and magic-like Bardo of Dream.

Moved to Oregon was a big shift for many people, a huge change in the atmosphere from our idyllic life in India as orange-robed meditators, where everything and everyone seemed so 'spiritual'.

My religion is not deceiving myself.

One day in Los Angeles, I received an unexpected phone call from Dhyan Yogi, the person responsible for looking after the many practical things connected with Osho's World Tour. He invited me to come to Uruguay where Osho was staying at the time. Often people ask me about these times in Uruguay, what it was like to be there. Have you ever read 'Mojud: The Man with the Inexplicable Life'? This story is a good description of how I felt being there. In other words, incredible!

One day Nivedano, Osho's beloved drummer, walked up and said: "Hey man! Did you hear? Last night your master was talking about you again!" . I could see Nivedano was thrilled. Whenever someone in the Commune got a little extra nod from Osho, it would spread to every heart like wildfire and everyone would enjoy by association. Such was the intimacy of the Commune. At first, I thought Nivedano was just teasing, but my heart told me otherwise. I knew something amazing in the life of a disciple was happening, again. The master had smiled at me.

One should see that all appearance is like mist and fog.

Osho had been speaking to a small group of people every night at his house for the past few months.

Osho knows my heart. And he knows the hearts of everyone of his musicians, of each of his people in fact.

Osho reported at the end of discourse he had heard a rumor I was going to England. When asked by someone what he thought he said, "All I can say is God save the Queen." Osho certainly loved to tease me.

Osho resumed the discourses a few days after returning to the ashram and I had a strong feeling there should be music for them. I had already seen in Uruguay how well it complemented the meetings, providing a joyous backdrop to the things he was speaking about. So I asked through his secretary what he would like to have happen and he sent the message that yes, he wanted music for the discourses, Indian in the morning and Western in the evening, and that I should coordinate both. And so began the Osho Institute of Music and Celebration.

Osho returned to India and stayed in Bombay for about three months. It was a transitional time. But Osho, never one to miss a beat, resumed the discourses a few days after arriving back in India.

Osho sat for a minute, then smiled and said unless we had questions for him, there was no reason to speak. He said for us to take it as a game, to write questions even if they didn't feel like our own, because someday someone might benefit from our asking. And to remember that our questions were creating the opportunity for him to be with us and to share his being. And that although the real transmission happens in silence, we still need the discourses to create a context for this.

Osho used me and Shunyo (my girlfriend at the time) as an example of how he envisioned men and women should relate. He shared a story he had often told in discourse of a man and woman who lived at opposite ends of a lake. They were deeply in love but only met by chance when sometimes out rowing on the water. He said it was beautiful how Shunyo and I met like this couple. When we had the feeling to be together, we would meet and enjoy. And when we were apart, we were also happy and content in our aloneness.

Osho would do mischievous things like sign my name to someone else's question. Or take my question and sign it with someone else's name! Sometimes he would laugh just hearing my name read. At other times, he would appear stern and administer a 'hit'. I could never predict what he was going to do, nor how he would react. Want some advice? Never try to second-guess the master.

People began arriving by droves from all corners of the world. We started recording music from the discourses and making tapes to sell in the Commune's bookshop. We also organized many creative things for Buddha Hall like variety shows, music groups, dance and art performances.

Seeing [Osho] laugh would just melt my heart. I would ask him things like "Beloved Master, are you just pulling my big toe?" and he would laugh and then proceed to give the most amazing answer, one that always seemed to perfectly suit the occasion. And at the same time find its mark in me!

Shunyo and I were staying in the room right under Osho's. One night as we were going to bed, about eleven o'clock, Amrito (Osho's personal physician) knocked on our door. "Milarepa, I have a message for you from your master," he said. "I was on my way out of Osho's room, and as he was pulling up the blankets over his head to go to sleep, he seemed to suddenly remember something: 'Oh, and give Milarepa the Osho Institute of Music and Celebration. And make him its director.' "

Shunyo, who had been present in the discourse, told me of how Osho had been joking about me having a big reputation with women, calling me a 'Lord Byron type'. He said he was puzzled, though, because whenever he stopped his car in front of me "He could see the drum, but not the drummer." I had been playing a drum at Osho's drive-by - a highly celebrative daily event that happened each day after lunch where the entire Commune would line the road to greet him on his drive with wild singing and dancing.

Sometimes I experienced [Osho] like a lion, playing with me, a small mouse.

Take the lowest place, and you shall reach the highest.

Taking care of the music around Osho for me has been about allowing things to expand and flow with him, so that the music reflects as clearly as possible his vision and the things we are continually learning by being with him. In this way, music has became my meditation.

The affairs of the world will go on forever, do not delay the practice of meditation. Once you have met with the profound instructions from a meditation master, with single pointed determination, set about realizing the Truth.

The ecstasy of celebration was rising higher everyday as, in retrospect, the master was preparing to leave his body. The intensity in fact was often overwhelming. I remember sometimes feeling inadequate with just my guitar and songs to offer and expressed this in a question Osho answered on Enlightenment Day, March 21, 1987. He seemed surprised and responded that the offerings of the heart are more valuable than any mundane thing the world has to offer and that I should understand this.

Towards the end of our stay in Uruguay, Osho had started choosing questions of mine that had a humorous potential, ones he could use to make everyone - including himself! - laugh. In the first few weeks after I arrived, the tone of his discourses was quite serious: a lot of politics and talk about the world situation and so on. It provoked my mischievous side, so I would try to provoke him as well - and that divine smile of his - with my questions.

When I took sannyas in 1976, Osho was living in Pune, India. During these early years, I came and went from the ashram many times. When I was there I meditated, did groups, attended discourse, and finally at some point jumped into work. Osho seemed like god to me then representing something unreachable, unattainable.

When Osho left Uruguay, because it all happened very suddenly, there were a handful of pending discourse questions on Maneesha's clipboard, and a few of them were mine.

When Pune Two came along, I sometimes thought I had somereal questions to ask. Serious questions! And yes, to answer your question. There was still a lot of playfulness, laughter and humor. From both sides.

When the Ranch finished, there was a big dispersion of energy like a ripe seedpod bursting. The Commune dissolved and his people moved back into the world while he moved from country to country harassed by every government. But Osho had a knack for transforming negative situations and making something beautiful out of them. Hence, many positive things came out the phase he called his World Tour. Ultimately, this phase manifested with him returning to India, where the Commune again flourished reaching yet another peak, the one we know as Pune Two.

When you run after your thoughts, you are like a dog chasing a stick

You menace others with your deadly fangs. But in tormenting them, you are only tormenting yourselves.

To attain Buddhahood ... we must scatter this life's aims and objects to the wind.

I like to think I have matured since those intimate times in Uruguay.

It felt more than enough just to be in the [Osho] presence.