No News at All

No News at All
4 min read

Osho,
Can you please comment on this beautiful poem by Rumi that I love so much:
“Outside, the freezing desert night. This other night inside grows warm, kindling. Let the landscape be covered with thorny crust. We have a soft garden in here. The continents blasted, cities and little towns, everything becomes a scorched blackened ball. The news we hear is full of grief for that future. But the real news inside here is there’s no news at all.”

“The poem by Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi is beautiful, as always. He has spoken only beautiful words. He is one of the most significant poets who are also mystics. That is a rare combination. There are millions of poets in the world and there are a few mystics in the world, but a man who is both is very rare to find.

Rumi is a very rare flower. He is as great a poet as he is a mystic.

“Hence, his poetry is not just poetry, not just a beautiful arrangement of words. It contains immense meaning and indicates toward the ultimate truth. It is not entertainment, it is enlightenment.

“He is saying:

‘Outside, the freezing desert night.
This other night inside grows warm, kindling.’

“The outside is not the real space for you to be. Outside, you are a foreigner; inside, you are at home. Outside, it is a freezing desert night. Inside, it is warm, kindling, cozy.

But very few are fortunate enough to move from the outside to the inside.

“They have completely forgotten that they have a home within themselves; they are searching for it but they are searching in the wrong place. They search their whole lives but always outside; they never stop for a moment and look inward.

‘Let the landscape be covered with thorny crust.
We have a soft garden in here.’

“Don’t be worried about what happens on the outside. Inside, there is always a garden ready to welcome you.

‘The continents blasted, cities and little towns,
everything becomes a scorched, blackened ball.
The news we hear is full of grief for that future.’

These words of Rumi are more significant, meaningful, today, than they were when he wrote them. He wrote them seven hundred years ago, but today it is not only a symbolic thing, it is going to become the reality:

‘The continents blasted, cities and little towns,
everything becomes a scorched blackened ball.
The news we hear is full of grief for that future.
But the real news inside here is there’s no news at all.’

“This last sentence depends on an ancient saying which says: No news is good news. I was born in a very small village where the postman used to come only once a week. People were afraid that he may be bringing a letter for them; they were happy when they found that there was no letter. Once in a while, there was a telegram for someone. Just the rumor that somebody had received a telegram was such a shock in the village that everybody would gather – and only one man was educated enough to read. Everybody was afraid: a telegram? That means some bad news. Otherwise, why should you waste money on a telegram?

“I learned from my very childhood that no news is good news. People were happy when they received no news from their relatives, from their friends or from anybody. That meant everything was going well.

“Rumi is saying:

‘The news we hear is full of grief for the future.
But the real news inside, is there’s no news at all.’

Everything is silent and everything is as beautiful, peaceful, blissful as it has always been. There is no change at all; hence, there is no news. Inside it is an eternal ecstasy, forever and forever.

“I will repeat again that these lines may become true in your lifetime. Before that happens, you must reach within yourself where no news has ever happened, where everything is eternally the same, where the spring never comes and goes but always remains; where flowers have been from the very beginning – if there was any beginning – and are going to remain to the very end, if there is going to be any end. In fact, there is no beginning and no end, and the garden is lush, green, and full of flowers.

Before the outside world is destroyed by your politicians, enter your inner world. That’s the only safety left, the only shelter against nuclear weapons, against global suicide, against all these idiots who have so much power to destroy. But you can at least save yourself.

“I was hopeful, but as the days have passed and I have become more and more acquainted with the stupidity of man… I still hope but just out of old habit; really my heart has accepted the fact that only a few people can be saved. The whole of humanity is determined to destroy itself. And these are the people that if you tell them how they can be saved, they will crucify you. They will stone you to death. Going around the world, I still laugh, but there is a subtle sadness in it. I still dance with you but it is no longer with the same enthusiasm as it was ten years ago.

“It seems that the higher powers of consciousness are helpless against the lower and ugly powers of politicians. The higher is always fragile, like a roseflower; you can destroy it with a stone. That does not mean that the stone becomes higher than the roseflower; it simply means the stone is unconscious of what it is doing.

The crowds are unconscious of what they are doing, and the politicians belong to the crowd.

“They are their representatives. When blind people are leading other blind people, it is almost impossible to wake them up; because the question is not only that they are asleep – they are blind too.

“There is not time enough to cure their eyes. There is time enough to wake them but not enough time to cure their eyes. So now I have confined myself completely to my own people.

That is my world, because I know those who are with me may be asleep, but they are not blind. They can be awakened.”

END

Excerpted from: Osho, The Hidden Splendor, Talk #7 – Spread Your Joy

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