Tyler Kalmakoff

“Do you plan on having children of your own?” a man asked me.

“No,” I said.

“Then what is your purpose in life?”

This is what is wrong with our societies, these expectations and endless searches for purpose and growth. I do not serve a purpose. Machines serve a purpose, Osho would say. He would also say that a purpose of life is the life of a slave. I do not put my shoes on all the way. I stand on the heels of my shoes, breaking them inward, because it brings me joy. More than joy is not needed, Osho would say. You do not need a reason that goes beyond joy. Joy is the liberation we feel when we unshackle ourselves from thoughtless conformism.

It is this pure spirituality and self discovery that Osho stood for that inspires me. The world is constantly at war with itself over divided belief systems and, because of this, awareness, love, sex, celebration, courage, creativity and humour are being suppressed by adherence to static thought.

Like my own mother, Osho’s grandmother provided him with the freedom of no imposed education or restrictions. This similar freedom allowed me the opportunity of an early start to the journey of self-actualization.

Osho was an antitheist, opposed to organized religion or to the belief in any deity. His commitment to any organization was also short-lived. Like him, I do not associate myself with any ideology, system, party or group. Osho reminds me that it is okay to be free of empty ritual and the falsehood of tradition. He reminds me that I am a powerful man as long as I have my thoughts and that I do not need the promise of future blessings to get on with my day. He reminds me that I have the ability to live authentically in the present.

The late Osho, it has been said, would leave immediate and unshakable impressions on those who visited him for the first time at his social discourses. Aside from being a personally impressive mystic, he was always quick to cause offense to some or to make others feel that they were instantly understood and accepted. Like a comedian, Osho had an uncanny ability to recognize social absurdities and social conditionings that created an illusory sense of identity and prevented or tore apart our happiness as humans.

Listening to his brilliant, hypnotic talks online as I fall asleep many nights, Osho strikes me as someone is internally innovative, even though he is no longer with us. He is innovative because of his clear-headedness. A clear head is something we often hear about or strive for as individuals, but very few of us experience it. I’ve experienced it by listening to Osho. He has confirmed this tall tale of clear-headedness that I was beginning to doubt.

Osho reminds me to think before I speak and to think while I speak and to speak slowly enough so that I can think. He inspires me to be a great speaker, an honest speaker, and to be void of negative, outside-influenced thought. Losing your ego is the hardest thing on earth to do, he would say. But it is what I strive for personally, because of his lasting encouragement. It is the only way I can see myself ever being content with my personal development. And it is one of the many hidden possibilities that Osho has helped me awaken; a sort of superconsciousness, he would say—a total meditative state of awareness in every moment.

Osho was an Indian spiritual teacher, speaker and philosopher. He ceased to exist in our human realm at the age of 58. His epitaph reads, “OSHO, Never Born, Never Died. Only Visited this Planet Earth between 11 Dec 1931 – 19 Jan 1990.”