Beloved Osho, recently, you concluded a discourse by saying: "remember, `let-go' is the most important word in existence." It penetrated me like an arrow. Since then your words have been haunting me. Beloved master, could you please speak a little more on the art of letting go? It seems the easiest yet the hardest thing to do. Is there a knack? Could you once again burn my ignorance with the lightning of your arrow?

Jivan Mada, it is certainly more difficult to be easy. It is easier to be difficult. The mind, obviously, is interested in the difficult; it wants to avoid anything that is too simple. The reason is very clear: the simple is the death of the mind. The difficult is its nourishment, its life, its very being.

It is strange -- but truth is always the most strange thing -- that one has to ask how to relax, how to go to sleep. Fortunately, nature has not left many things in your hands. Otherwise, it is absolutely certain you would have asked how to breathe: "It is so simple, Osho, but just give me a little strategy so that I can breathe. How to let the heart go on beating?"
But nature is compassionate enough, it has not given you any important thing to do -- so you can be a member of the Couch Potato Club and nature goes on taking care of all that is essential.

Let-go is certainly the most fundamental principle of religiousness. It simply means no goal, no desire, no longing, no past, no future -- just being here in utter totality, drowning in this silence, without any resistance.
There is no art, there is no knack, there is no method; just a simple understanding. Who is preventing you? Your own past, that you think is valuable... how can you drop it? It is a treasure, it is your heritage! The future... how can you drop it? -- although you don't have it. Still, you are worried how to drop it: "How can one drop the future? Future is all that we have. All the dreams, all the tomorrows, all the great things that have to happen are in the future."

And when I say to you, "Drop the past, drop the future, just simply be"...
In that moment of simple being, immense blessings descend on you, silences, ecstasies -- effortlessly. And because you have not made any effort and the flowers go on showering on you, it creates a very new dimension in your being: the dimension of gratitude, which religions have wrongly interpreted as prayer.

You cannot pray before you have known let-go. All the churches and all the temples are full of people who are praying, but they don't know; they are not in a state in which prayer arises on its own as gratitude.
Prayer cannot mean anything else but gratitude -- gratitude for so much that is given to you each moment without your asking. You could not have conceived of any more than what happens in the moment, if you allow it to happen.

And the allowing is very simple:
No past, no future -- just this moment.

Jivan Mada, you ask, "Beloved Master, could you please speak a little more on the art of letting go?" In fact, there is no art. And I have already spoken too much on it which is not really allowed.

A Zen master is sitting by the side of the sea on the beach, and the king of the country passes by. Seeing the opportunity... the king has thought many times that some day he will go to this man about whom he has heard so much. But you know the troubles of a king, problems and worries. He had not been able to find time.
But this had happened accidentally; the Zen master was sitting on the beach. The king stopped his caravan and said, "I would like to meet the master. So please wait here, and let me go alone."
He asked the master, "I have heard much about you and I wanted to come long, long ago but it did not materialize. I am grateful that today I have seen a man of silence. Can you tell me the art which you have practiced, which has made you a luminous silence? I don't have much time."
The Zen master said, "You don't be worried about time, because I don't have much to say either." And there was silence.
The king waited and waited, and the master went on looking towards the sea. The sun was setting and it was so beautiful -- so immensely golden, all over the ocean.
The king thought, "The man seems to be a little strange. I have asked the question and he is looking at the sea. It seems he has forgotten me and my question." He reminded him -- "Perhaps you don't know that I am king of this country and I have asked you a question and you have not answered it."
The poor master said, "I am trying hard to answer it."
The king said, "Either you are mad or I am mad. I have not heard a single word."
The master said, "Aha! That is the answer -- that you have not heard a single word! You have understood everything. This is it."
The king said, "You are certainly mad! You have not said a single word."
The master said, "The question is such that not even a single word can be said. But I will try again, although whatever I have said is more than could have been allowed by existence. But for you, I will descend a little."
And he wrote on the sand, `zen' -- and started looking again towards the setting sun.
The king said, "Zen? Please, can you elaborate on it a little?"
The master said, "I have already said too much. I am going against myself. And you are asking for elaboration? But you are the king... and with great humbleness I will try to elaborate a little more."
He wrote in bigger letters: ZEN.
The king said, "Do you think that my eyesight is such that I am not able to read? This is elaboration?"
The master said, "I can write in even bigger letters, but more than that... I cannot commit a sin against existence. There are a few things which either you understand or you don't."

This silence is let-go.
You are not creating it.
It is surrounding you.
It is overwhelmingly here.
It is all around you. If it can touch your heart, you have understood more than anybody can elaborate on let-go.

O'Reilly walks into the pub, orders a triple whiskey, swallows it in one gulp, spins around and falls flat, face down on the floor.
"That's what I like about O'Reilly," remarks the bartender to the others in the bar. "He always knows when he has had enough."

Just learn something from Mr. O'Reilly. Existence is not to be understood but to be drunk. It is alcoholic, there is no other drug that makes you more silent, more festive, more in tune with existence. Just one gulp of it... and flat on the ground! What more can be said about it? It happens every day to almost everybody except a few dodos. Just the ground is not much, so people spin in their own places.
But if you want I can allow it one day: Don't bother who is sitting by your side or in front of you or behind you. Just fall flat! And enjoy let-go.

excerpt from: Yaa Hoo! The Mystic Rose