ARTICLE: The observer is not the observed

[Bholanath]

While doing some research I stumbled across this and thought to share it:




[ From Maya, Dreams, and Illusions
Osho, The Discipline of Transcendence, Volume 4, Chapter 8
at http://www.geocities.com/yahugrup/trans408.htm ]


Osho,
The observer is not the observed -- then where does the observed spring from? And what about our continual projections? Is it all illusion? And yet, can't the nature of the illusion throw light on its creator-observer?

The word maya has to be understood. In English there is no equivalent word: "illusion" is not right.

In the east we call real that which is eternal, timelessly there; has always been, will always be, there was never a time when it was not -- this eternal we call the real, the true. Exactly opposite to it is the unreal, the untrue -- which has never been, will never be. Between the two is maya. Maya means that which appears to be and yet is not. It is just in the middle of the real and the unreal. It is a lie but it appears like truth. It is a decorated lie, and very convincing. When it is there it appears absolutely true; you know it.

In the night when you dream you never suspect. Even very skeptical people, atheists, don't suspect. In a dream there is nobody who suspects. Even great doubters who suspect everything don't suspect the dream; when the dream is there it appears absolutely true. Absurd things also look true.

When the dream is there it is real. It is so real that even absurdity does not make you doubt. In the morning when you open your eyes, suddenly it is unreal. Now from where had it come? It had come from your own unawareness. It was your projection. It was not there outside you, it was inside you; it was your game. And when you were so lost in it it became real. In the morning you are awake, the projection is withdrawn; you can see now that it was unreal.

Now what to call a dream? Call it real? It is not real because there was a time when it was not, and now again there is a time when it is not. Should we call it unreal? But then it was there in the middle. In the evening it was not, in the morning it is not again, but in the night it is there. So how can you call it unreal? So in the east we invented a new term. We call it maya: what is unreal but appears as real because of our unconsciousness.

Maya is almost like magic -- something which is not but can be made to appear as if it is. It shows something about you.

A dream shows something about the dreamer.

For example, if you dream about women, sex, and things like that, that simply shows that in your waking life you must be trying to be celibate, or you must be trying to go beyond sex. You must be repressing sexuality. The repressed bubbles up in your dream, becomes a projection. If in the night you dream always about fasting and dinners and things like that, that simply means you must be trying to starve yourself in some way or other. You must be fasting, or you may be a food-maniac. You must be doing something wrong; your body is not satisfied. That dissatisfaction arises in your dream. Or you are repressing something that arises in your dream. It simply shows that your life is not going rhythmically. There is something disturbing its rhythm. That disturbance arises in the dream, becomes a projection.

It shows something about the person who is dreaming.

"The observer is not the observed -- then where does the observed spring from?" It springs from the observer -- but the observer is fast asleep, has not yet become really an observer, is only potentially an observer, not actually. Out of that sleepiness, slumber, stupor, arise all sorts of illusions: you create them.

"And yet can the nature of the illusion throw light on its creator-observer?" Yes, it throws some light.

Let me tell you one very famous story of Idries Shah. Listen to it very attentively.

A certain quiet dervish often used to attend the weekly meals given by a cultivated and generous man. This circle was known as the "Assembly of The Cultured". The dervish never took part in the conversation but simply arrived, shook hands with all present, seated himself in a corner, and ate the food provided.

When the meeting was over he would stand up, say a word of farewell and thanks, and go his way. Nobody knew anything about him, though when he first appeared there were rumors that he was great saint. For a long time the other guests thought that he must indeed be a man of sanctity and knowledge and they looked forward to the time when he might impart some of his wisdom to them. Some of them even boasted of his attendance at their meetings to their friends, hinting at the special distinction which they felt in his presence.

Gradually, however, because they could feel no relationship with this man developing, the guests came to suspect that he was an imitator, perhaps a fraud Several of them felt uncomfortable in his presence. He seemed to do nothing to harmonize himself with the atmosphere, and didn't even contribute a proverb to the enlightened conversation which they had come to prize as a necessary part of their very lives.

A few, on the other hand, became unaware that he was there at all, since he drew no attention to himself.

One day the dervish spoke. He said: "I invite all of you to visit my monastery. Tomorrow night you shall eat with me."

This unexpected invitation caused a change in the opinions of the whole assembly. Some thought that the dervish, who was very poorly dressed, must be mad, and surely could provide them with nothing. Others considered his past behavior to have been a test. At last, they said to themselves, he would reward them for their patience in bearing with such dreary company. Still others said to one another: "Beware, for he may well be trying to lure us into his power."

Curiosity led them all, including their host, to accept the hospitality. The following evening the dervish led them from the house to a hidden monastery of such size and magnificence that they were dazed. The building was full of disciples carrying out every kind of exercise and task. The guests passed through contemplation halls filled with distinguished-looking sages who rose in respect and bowed at the dervish's approach. The feast which they were given surpassed all powers of description. The visitors were overwhelmed. All begged him to enroll them as disciples forthwith. But the dervish would only say to all their entreaties: "Wait until the morning."

Morning came and the guests, instead of waking in the luxurious silken beds to which they had been conducted the night before, clad in gorgeous robes, found themselves lying stiff and stark, dispersed on the ground within the stony confines of a huge and ugly ruin on a barren mountainside. There was no sign of the dervish, of the beautiful arabesques, the libraries, the fountains, the carpets.

"The infamous wretch has tricked us with the deceits of sorcery!," shouted the guests. They alternately condoled with and congratulated one another for their sufferings and for having at least seen through the villain, whose enchantments obviously wore off before he could achieve his evil purpose, whatever that might be.

Many of them attributed their escape to their own purity of mind. But what they did not know was that by the same means which he had used to conjure up the experience of the monastery, the dervish had made them believe that they were abandoned in a ruin. They were in fact in neither place.

He now approached the company as if from nowhere and said: "We shall return to the monastery." He waved his hands and all found themselves back in the palatial halls. Now they repented, for they immediately convinced themselves that the ruins had been the test and that this monastery was the true reality. Some muttered: "It is as well that he did not hear our criticisms. Even if he only teaches us this strange art it will have been worthwhile."

But the dervish waved his hands again and they found themselves at the table of the communal meal, which they had in fact never left.

The dervish was sitting in his customary corner eating his spiced rice as usual, saying nothing at all. And then watching him uneasily all heard his voice speak as if within their own breasts, though his lips didn't move.

He said: "While your greed makes it impossible for you to tell self-deceit from reality, there is nothing real which a dervish can show you -- only deceit. Those whose food is self-deceit and imagination can be fed only with deception and imagination."

Now all that you come to experience in life is nothing but your own desire.

Because you want to experience it, your mind conjures. Mind is a great magician. It is very tricky, it is the greatest magic show...your own mind. If you want to conjure something you will convince yourself. Even an ugly woman can become beautiful if you are full of desire.

Mulla Nasruddin always goes to a hill-station. Sometimes he goes for three weeks but comes back in ten days; sometimes he goes for four weeks and he's back within two weeks.
I inquired of him: "What is the matter? You had gone for six weeks and you are back within ten days."
He said: "There is a way to decide how long I should stay there."
I said: "Tell me what is your way? How do you decide?"
He said: "I have kept a very ugly woman to take care of my house there on the hill-station. She is so ugly and nauseating, repulsive. When I go to the hill-station, this is my way to judge how long I should stay: when by and by I start seeing beauty in that woman, I escape."

Sexuality goes on accumulating, your desire to have a woman goes on accumulating. Then there comes a point when you don't see what is; you see what you want to see. Then even an ugly woman, nauseating, repulsive, can become the most beautiful woman, can become a Cleopatra.

It is your desire that creates the trick. You can force yourself to believe anything whatsoever.

This mind is the origin of maya, of all the illusions that you live through. Once you start becoming aware of the mind, awareness is totally different from the mind. Then the observer arises, then you become an awareness.

When you become an awareness and you can see the games of the mind that have been playing with you for so many lives, suddenly you start laughing at the whole ridiculousness of it.

[The Madame X]

What a nice find...

but i guess i'm a wierd cat and don't really fit into many of those generalities.
For example, in many of my dreams, i know things are too surreal to be real and therefore that i must be dreaming, at which point I chose to continue the dream or terminate it.
So, I doubt the reality of the Dream.
I was just discussing this other point with Cerridwen last night - erotic dreaming about someone you do not find remotely attractive, may infact not have anything to do with 'sex' but with a surrender/control issue, giving the charachter too much counscious thought and it is carried thru to the dream place, or even replacement of your intended paramour who may be face-less(in reality or for the time being).

So, in short, in my own opinion I would hate to generalize everyones dreams into a nut shell like what is presented.
Great food for thought, Thank you Bholanath.
Dark Embraces,

[Bholanath]