Astrall
Auto-translated
Death does not contradict life; it does not signify the end of life; it merely leads life to a beautiful culmination. Life continues even after death. It existed before birth, and it will continue after death. Life is not limited to the brief interval between birth and death; rather, birth and death are merely small episodes in the eternity of life. There is nothing bad about death; it is beautiful – but one must know how to live and how to die. There is an art of living, and there is an art of dying, and the latter art is more valuable than the former. Only those who know how to live properly know how to die properly…
Osho
From the day my grandfather died, death became my… constant companion. On that day, I also died, for I clearly realized: it doesn't matter if you live for seven years or seventy – he was seventy years old – you will still die someday. (c) Osho
He was a good, wonderful man, and he simply died. What was the meaning of his life? This question continued to torment me: what was the meaning of his life? What did he achieve? For seventy years, he remained a good man, but what was the meaning of all this? Life vanished without a trace, leaving nothing behind. My grandfather's death greatly puzzled me. I began to think about serious questions even before his death. At the age of four, I began to contemplate problems that people usually only begin to consider towards the end of their lives. But I didn't want to waste time. I began to ask questions to my maternal grandfather. He usually answered:
Oh, these questions! You have your whole life ahead of you; you are still very young; don't rush. – Grandfather, I have seen boys in the village die: they never asked such questions; they died without finding an answer. Can you guarantee that I will not die tomorrow or the day after tomorrow? Can you guarantee that I will only die after I receive answers to my questions?
I cannot guarantee this, because death is not subject to me, just as life is not. – Then don't suggest that I wait until I grow up. I want to know the answer immediately. If you know the answer, please tell me. If you don't know, then just tell me honestly. Soon, he realized that it would be different with me. Saying "yes"... you start having a hard time, because you have to answer follow-up questions, delve into the topic – you can't fool me. Grandfather honestly admitted that he did not know the answers to my questions. I said to him:
You are old and may die soon. What have you been doing all your life? On the threshold of death, you will only be left with your ignorance. I am not asking you simple questions; they are very important to me. You go to the Temple. I ask you: why do you go there? What do you find there? You have been going there all your life and are trying to persuade me to go there with you. He built this Temple. One day, he realized that the whole answer was that "I built this Temple. If even I don't go there, then who will? But I will tell you frankly: yes, it was all in vain. I went there all my life, but I found nothing there." Then I said:
Try something else. Don't die with a question; die with an answer. But he died with a question. When we last spoke – and that was ten hours before his death – he opened his eyes and said: – You were right: don't put anything off until tomorrow. I am dying with many questions. I admit that I gave you bad advice. You were right: you shouldn't put things off until tomorrow. If you have a question, look for the answer as soon as possible.
Osho
Death remains the only exception: everything else in the world has already been spoiled by man. (c) Osho
When someone dies, when someone you knew, loved, lived with, and who became a part of your life dies, something in you also dies. Of course, you will miss them; you will feel a void – this is natural. But that same void can be transformed into a door. After all, death is a door to God. Death is the only thing that man has not yet spoiled. Man has already spoiled everything, desecrated everything. Only death remains untouched, unspoiled, unsoiled by human hands. Man would gladly take on death too, but it remains unconquered, it does not yield to him. Death is elusive; it remains a mystery. Man is confused. He doesn't know what to do with death. Man does not understand death; it does not lend itself to scientific analysis, which is why it still remains unspoiled. Death remains the only exception: everything else in the world has already been spoiled by man. Make use of these moments. When death unexpectedly penetrates your consciousness, all of life seems meaningless. It really is meaningless. Death reveals the truth. When you unexpectedly encounter death, it seems that the ground is slipping out from under your feet. Suddenly, you realize that the death of this person also means your own death. Every death is the death of each of us. (c) Osho
http://www.klex.ru/9f
Osho
From the day my grandfather died, death became my… constant companion. On that day, I also died, for I clearly realized: it doesn't matter if you live for seven years or seventy – he was seventy years old – you will still die someday. (c) Osho
He was a good, wonderful man, and he simply died. What was the meaning of his life? This question continued to torment me: what was the meaning of his life? What did he achieve? For seventy years, he remained a good man, but what was the meaning of all this? Life vanished without a trace, leaving nothing behind. My grandfather's death greatly puzzled me. I began to think about serious questions even before his death. At the age of four, I began to contemplate problems that people usually only begin to consider towards the end of their lives. But I didn't want to waste time. I began to ask questions to my maternal grandfather. He usually answered:
Oh, these questions! You have your whole life ahead of you; you are still very young; don't rush. – Grandfather, I have seen boys in the village die: they never asked such questions; they died without finding an answer. Can you guarantee that I will not die tomorrow or the day after tomorrow? Can you guarantee that I will only die after I receive answers to my questions?
I cannot guarantee this, because death is not subject to me, just as life is not. – Then don't suggest that I wait until I grow up. I want to know the answer immediately. If you know the answer, please tell me. If you don't know, then just tell me honestly. Soon, he realized that it would be different with me. Saying "yes"... you start having a hard time, because you have to answer follow-up questions, delve into the topic – you can't fool me. Grandfather honestly admitted that he did not know the answers to my questions. I said to him:
You are old and may die soon. What have you been doing all your life? On the threshold of death, you will only be left with your ignorance. I am not asking you simple questions; they are very important to me. You go to the Temple. I ask you: why do you go there? What do you find there? You have been going there all your life and are trying to persuade me to go there with you. He built this Temple. One day, he realized that the whole answer was that "I built this Temple. If even I don't go there, then who will? But I will tell you frankly: yes, it was all in vain. I went there all my life, but I found nothing there." Then I said:
Try something else. Don't die with a question; die with an answer. But he died with a question. When we last spoke – and that was ten hours before his death – he opened his eyes and said: – You were right: don't put anything off until tomorrow. I am dying with many questions. I admit that I gave you bad advice. You were right: you shouldn't put things off until tomorrow. If you have a question, look for the answer as soon as possible.
Osho
Death remains the only exception: everything else in the world has already been spoiled by man. (c) Osho
When someone dies, when someone you knew, loved, lived with, and who became a part of your life dies, something in you also dies. Of course, you will miss them; you will feel a void – this is natural. But that same void can be transformed into a door. After all, death is a door to God. Death is the only thing that man has not yet spoiled. Man has already spoiled everything, desecrated everything. Only death remains untouched, unspoiled, unsoiled by human hands. Man would gladly take on death too, but it remains unconquered, it does not yield to him. Death is elusive; it remains a mystery. Man is confused. He doesn't know what to do with death. Man does not understand death; it does not lend itself to scientific analysis, which is why it still remains unspoiled. Death remains the only exception: everything else in the world has already been spoiled by man. Make use of these moments. When death unexpectedly penetrates your consciousness, all of life seems meaningless. It really is meaningless. Death reveals the truth. When you unexpectedly encounter death, it seems that the ground is slipping out from under your feet. Suddenly, you realize that the death of this person also means your own death. Every death is the death of each of us. (c) Osho
http://www.klex.ru/9f