21 Oct Heaven and hell are not very distant, they are neighbors; only a small fence divides them (OSHO)
A warrior came to the Zen master Hakuin and asked
‘Is there such a thing as heaven and hell?’
Hakuin said
‘Who are you?’
The warrior replied ‘I am chief samurai to the emperor.’
Hakuin said ‘You, a samurai? With a face like that, you look more like a beggar.’
At this the warrior became so angry he drew his sword.
Standing calmly in front of him, Hakuin said ‘Here open the gates of hell.’
Perceiving the master’s composure, the soldier sheathed his sword and bowed.
Hakuin then said ‘And here open the gates of heaven.’
Heaven and hell are not very distant, they are neighbors; only a small fence divides them. You can jump that fence, even without a gate.
You go on jumping from this to that. In the morning you may be in heaven; by evening you are in hell.
This moment heaven, that moment hell.
It is just an attitude, just a state of your mind, just how you are feeling.
Many times, in a single life, you may visit hell, and many times you may visit heaven.
In a single day also…
Hell and heaven are within you. The doors are very close: with the right hand you can open one, with the left hand you can open another. With just a change of your mind, your being is transformed — from heaven to hell and from hell to heaven. This goes on continuously.
What is the secret? The secret is whenever you are unconscious, whenever you act unconsciously, without awareness, you are in hell.
Whenever you are conscious, whenever you act with full awareness, you are in heaven.
If this awareness becomes so integrated, so consolidated, that you never lose it, there is no hell for you.
If unconsciousness becomes so consolidated, so integrated, that you never lose it, there is no heaven.
Fortunately unconsciousness can never become so consolidated; a part always remains conscious. When your whole being seems to be unconscious, even then a witnessing part always remains conscious. Even while asleep, a part is witnessing.
That’s why in the morning you sometimes say the sleep was beautiful. Sometimes you say the sleep was disturbed, nightmarish.
Who knows this? You were asleep — who knows that you were so happy? A part has witnessed; a part was continuously alert, knowing. Who knows that you were disturbed, uneasy, uncomfortable? You were asleep — even in sleep a part of you knows.
You cannot become completely unconscious. Once achieved, consciousness cannot be lost.
You cannot reverse the process.
A Bird on the Wing
OSHO
