Osho and his contradiction's - Going beyond Logic

There is a Tibetan story about Marpa. His Master told him to make a house, alone, with nobody's help. It was difficult to bring the stones and bricks from the village to the monastery. It was four or five miles distant. Marpa carried everything alone; it had to be done. And it was to be a three storey house, the biggest that was possible in Tibet in those days. He worked hard, day and night. Alone he had to do everything. Years passed, the house was ready, and Marpa came back happy. He bowed down to the Master's feet and said, 'The house is ready.' The Master said, 'Now set it on fire.' Marpa went and burned the house.

The whole night and the whole next day the house burned. By the evening there was nothing left. Marpa went, bowed down and said, 'As you ordered, the house has been burned.' The Master looked at him and said, 'Start tomorrow morning again. A new house has to be built.'

And it is said that it happened seven times. Marpa became old, just doing the same thing again and again. He would build the house - and he became very, very efficient, by and by. He started building the house sooner, in less time. Every time the house was ready, the Master would say, 'Burn it!' When the house was burned the seventh time, the Master said, 'Now there is no need.'

This is a parable. It may not have happened, but this is what I am doing to you. The moment you listen to me you start creating a house inside: a structure of theories, a consistent whole, a philosophy to live by, a dogma to follow, a blueprint. The moment I see that the house is ready I start demolishing it. And this I will do seven times, and if it is needed, seventy times. I am waiting for the moment when you will listen and you will not gather words. You will listen, but you will listen to me, not what I say. You will listen to the content, not the container; not the words but the wordless message. By and by, this is going to happen. How long can you carry on building a house knowing well that it is going to be demolished? That's the meaning of all my contradictions.

I want you to be absolutely empty of words. This is the whole purpose of my talking to you. One day you will realize that I am talking and you are not creating a structure. Knowing well that I am going to deny whatsoever I am saying, you don't cling. If you don't cling, if you remain empty, you will be able to listen to me, not to what I say. And it is totally different to listen to the being that I am, to listen to the existence that is happening right now, in this moment.

I am just a window: you can look through me and the beyond opens. Don't look at the window, look through it. Don't look at the frame of the window. All my words are frames: just look through them. Forget the words and the frame... and the beyond, the sky is there.

If you cling to the frame, how, how are you going to take wing? That's why I go on demolishing the words, so that you don't cling to the frame. You have to take wing; you have to go through me, but you have to go away from me. You have to go through me but you have to forget me completely. You have to go through me, but you need not look back.

A vast sky is there. I give you just a taste of that vastness when I contradict. It would have been very much easier for you if I were a consistent man saying the same thing again and again, conditioning you to the same theory again and again. You would be vastly happier, but that happiness would be stupid because then you would never be ready to take wing in the sky.

I won't allow you to cling to the frame; I will go on demolishing the frame. This is how I push you towards the unknown. All words are from the known and all theories are from the known.

The truth is unknown, and the truth cannot be said. And whatsoever can be said cannot be true.

OSHO