From Ignorance to Innocence - Osho - Oshorajneesh.com
From Ignorance to Innocence - Osho - Oshorajneesh.com From Ignorance to Innocence - Osho - Oshorajneesh.com
CHAPTER 23. CONSCIENCE: A COFFIN FOR CONSCIOUSNESS When the brother came to know, he came to apologize. He said, ”Instead of giving you a little consolation, I have wounded you. I will never do such a thing again.” His whole life van Gogh was just giving his paintings to friends: to the hotel where he used to eat four days a week he would present a painting, or to a prostitute who had said once to him that he was not a beautiful man. To be absolutely factual, he was ugly. No woman ever fell in love with him, it was impossible. This prostitute out of compassion – and sometimes prostitutes have more compassion than your socalled ladies, they understand men more – just out of compassion she said, ”I like you very much.” He had never heard this. Love was a far away thing. Even liking.... He said, ”Really, you like me? What do you like in me?” Now, the woman was at a loss. She said, ”I like your ears. Your ears are beautiful.” And you will be surprised that van Gogh went home, cut off his ears with a razor, packed them beautifully, went to the prostitute and gave his ears to her. And blood was flowing.... She said, ”What have you done?” He said, ”Nobody ever liked anything in me. And I am a poor man, how can I thank you? You liked my ears; I have presented them to you. If you had liked my eyes, I would have presented my eyes to you If you had liked me, I would have died for you.” The prostitute could not believe it. But for the first time, van Gogh was happy, smiling; somebody had liked at least a part of him. And that woman had just said jokingly – otherwise who bothers about your ears? If people like something, they like your eyes, they like your nose, your lips – you won’t hear lovers talking about each other’s ears, that they like them. Only in ancient Hindu scriptures on sexology: the Kamasutras of Vatsayana.... That is the only book I have been able to find that can be connected to this incident five thousand years afterwards with Vincent van Gogh, because only Vatsayana says, ”Very few people are aware that ear lobes are tremendously sexual and sensitive points in the body. And lovers should play with each other’s ear lobes” – and this is a fact, although unknown. If you start playing with the ear lobes of your lover, she or he may think that you are a little crazy – what are you doing? Because people have become fixed on certain ideas: kissing is okay.... But there are tribes where nobody has ever heard about kissing; they rub noses with each other, and that is thought to be the most loving gesture. Certainly it is more hygienic, far more medically supportable than the French kiss. Those people who rub noses think of people giving French kisses to each other as just dirty, simply dirty. But this prostitute perhaps was aware... because prostitutes become aware of many things which ordinary women and men don’t become aware of, because they come in contact with so many people. Perhaps she was aware that ears have a sexual significance. They certainly have. From Ignorance to Innocence 326 Osho
CHAPTER 23. CONSCIENCE: A COFFIN FOR CONSCIOUSNESS Vatsayana is one of the greatest experts. Freud and Havelock Ellis and other sexologists are just pygmies before Vatsayana. And when he says something, he means it. Van Gogh lived his whole life in poverty. He died painting. Before dying he went mad, because for one year continually he was painting the sun: hundreds of paintings, but nothing was coming to the point he wanted. But the whole day standing in the hottest place in France, in Arles, with the sun on the head – because without the experience how can you paint? He painted the final painting, but he went mad. Just the heat, the hunger... but he was immensely happy; even in madness he was painting. And those paintings which he did in the madhouse are now worth millions. He committed suicide for the simple reason that he had painted everything that he wanted to paint. Now painting was finished; he had come to a dead end. There was nothing more to do. Now to go on living was occupying space, somebody’s place; that was ugly to him. That’s what he wrote in his letters to his brother: ”My work is done. I have lived tremendously – the way I wanted to live. I have painted what I wanted to paint. My last painting I have done today, and now I am taking a jump from this life into the unknown, whatever it is, because this life no longer contains anything for me.” Will you consider this man a genius? Will you consider this man intelligent, wise? No, ordinarily you would think he is simply mad. But I cannot say that. His living and his painting were not two things: painting was his living, that was his life. So to the whole world it seems suicide – not to me. To me it simply seems a natural end. The painting is completed. Life is fulfilled. There was no other goal; whether he receives the Nobel prize, whether anybody appreciates his painting.... In his life nobody appreciated his work. In his life no art gallery accepted his paintings, even free. After he died, slowly, slowly, because of his sacrifice, painting changed its whole flavor. There would have been no Picasso without Vincent van Gogh. All the painters that have come after Vincent van Gogh are indebted to him, incalculably, because that man changed the whole direction. Slowly, slowly, as the direction changed, his paintings were discovered. A great search was made. People had thrown his paintings in their empty houses, or in their basements, thinking that they were useless. They rushed to their basements, discovered his paintings, cleaned them. Even faked paintings came onto the market as authentic van Gogh. Now there are only two hundred paintings; he must have painted thousands. But any art gallery that has a Vincent van Gogh is proud, because the man poured his whole life in his paintings. They were not painted by color, but by blood, by breath – his heartbeat is there. Don’t ask such a man, ”Is there any meaning in your painting?” He is there in his painting, and you are asking, ”Is there any meaning in your painting?” If you cannot see the meaning, you are responsible for it. The higher a thing rises, the fewer the people who will recognize it. When something reaches to the highest point, it is very difficult to find even a few people to recognize it. From Ignorance to Innocence 327 Osho
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CHAPTER 23. CONSCIENCE: A COFFIN FOR CONSCIOUSNESS<br />
When the brother came <strong>to</strong> know, he came <strong>to</strong> apologize. He said, ”Instead of giving you a little<br />
consolation, I have wounded you. I will never do such a thing again.”<br />
His whole life van Gogh was just giving his paintings <strong>to</strong> friends: <strong>to</strong> the hotel where he used <strong>to</strong> eat<br />
four days a week he would present a painting, or <strong>to</strong> a prostitute who had said once <strong>to</strong> him that he<br />
was not a beautiful man. To be absolutely factual, he was ugly. No woman ever fell in love with him,<br />
it was impossible.<br />
This prostitute out of <strong>com</strong>passion – and sometimes prostitutes have more <strong>com</strong>passion than your socalled<br />
ladies, they understand men more – just out of <strong>com</strong>passion she said, ”I like you very much.”<br />
He had never heard this. Love was a far away thing. Even liking....<br />
He said, ”Really, you like me? What do you like in me?” Now, the woman was at a loss.<br />
She said, ”I like your ears. Your ears are beautiful.” And you will be surprised that van Gogh went<br />
home, cut off his ears with a razor, packed them beautifully, went <strong>to</strong> the prostitute and gave his ears<br />
<strong>to</strong> her. And blood was flowing....<br />
She said, ”What have you done?”<br />
He said, ”Nobody ever liked anything in me. And I am a poor man, how can I thank you? You liked<br />
my ears; I have presented them <strong>to</strong> you. If you had liked my eyes, I would have presented my eyes<br />
<strong>to</strong> you If you had liked me, I would have died for you.”<br />
The prostitute could not believe it. But for the first time, van Gogh was happy, smiling; somebody<br />
had liked at least a part of him. And that woman had just said jokingly – otherwise who bothers<br />
about your ears? If people like something, they like your eyes, they like your nose, your lips – you<br />
won’t hear lovers talking about each other’s ears, that they like them.<br />
Only in ancient Hindu scriptures on sexology: the Kamasutras of Vatsayana.... That is the only book<br />
I have been able <strong>to</strong> find that can be connected <strong>to</strong> this incident five thousand years afterwards with<br />
Vincent van Gogh, because only Vatsayana says, ”Very few people are aware that ear lobes are<br />
tremendously sexual and sensitive points in the body. And lovers should play with each other’s ear<br />
lobes” – and this is a fact, although unknown.<br />
If you start playing with the ear lobes of your lover, she or he may think that you are a little crazy<br />
– what are you doing? Because people have be<strong>com</strong>e fixed on certain ideas: kissing is okay....<br />
But there are tribes where nobody has ever heard about kissing; they rub noses with each other,<br />
and that is thought <strong>to</strong> be the most loving gesture. Certainly it is more hygienic, far more medically<br />
supportable than the French kiss.<br />
Those people who rub noses think of people giving French kisses <strong>to</strong> each other as just dirty, simply<br />
dirty.<br />
But this prostitute perhaps was aware... because prostitutes be<strong>com</strong>e aware of many things which<br />
ordinary women and men don’t be<strong>com</strong>e aware of, because they <strong>com</strong>e in contact with so many<br />
people. Perhaps she was aware that ears have a sexual significance. They certainly have.<br />
<strong>From</strong> <strong>Ignorance</strong> <strong>to</strong> <strong>Innocence</strong> 326 <strong>Osho</strong>