The Goose is OUT

An old gentleman and an old lady have a conversation. They talk about the
good old times and he asks her: "Excuse me, did you ever blush?"
"Oh yes, she says, "and that four times. The first time when I undressed in
front of my husband. The second time when I undressed in front of my
lover. The third time when I took money for it. And the fourth time when I
paid someone for it. And you?"
The man is silent for a moment and then says: "I blushed twice. The first
time when I couldn't do it the second time. And the second time when I
couldn't do it the first time."

OSHO, IS THE GOOSE REALLY OUT?

Anand Bhavo, the goose has never been in, the goose has always been out. It is a
Zen koan. First you have to understand the meaning of Zen and the meaning of a
koan.

Zen is not a religion, not a dogma, not a creed, Zen is not even a quest, an inquiry;
it is non-philosophical. The fundamental of the Zen approach is that all is as it should
be, nothing is missing. This very moment everything is perfect. The goal is not
somewhere else, it is here, it is now. Tomorrows don't exist. This very moment is the
only reality. Hence in Zen there is no distinction between methods and goals, means
and goals.

All the philosophies of the world and all the religions of the world create duality;
howsoever they may go on talking about non-duality, they create a split personality
in man. That has been the greatest calamity that has befallen humanity: all the do-
gooders have created a schizophrenic man. When you divide reality into means and
goals you divide man himself, because for man, man is the closest reality to man. His
consciousness becomes split. He lives here but not really; he is always there,
somewhere else. He is always searching, always inquiring; never living, never being,
always doing; getting richer, getting powerful, getting spiritual, getting holier, saintly
- always more and more. And this constant hankering for more creates his tense,
anguished state, and meanwhile he is missing all that is made available by existence.
He is interested in the far away and God is close by. His eyes are focused on the stars
and God is within him. Hence the most fundamental thing to understand about Zen
is: the goose has NEVER been in. Let me tell you the story how this koan started:

A great philosophical official, Riko, once asked the strange Zen Master Nansen, to
explain to him the old koan of the goose in the bottle.
"If a man puts a gosling into a bottle," said Riko, "and feeds him until he is full-
grown, how can the man get the goose out without killing it or breaking the bottle?"
Nansen gave a great clap with his hands and shouted: "Riko!"
"Yes, Master," said the official with a start.
"See," said Nansen, "the goose is out!"

It is only a question of seeing, it is only a question of becoming alert, awake, it is

A koan is not an ordinary puzzle; it is not a puzzle because it cannot be solved. A

A koan is insoluble; you cannot solve it, you can only DISSOLVE it. And the way to
dissolve it is to change the very plane of your being from dreaming to wakefulness. In
the dream the goose is in the bottle and there is no way to bring it out of the bottle
without breaking the bottle or killing the goose - in the dream. Hence, as far as the
dream is concerned, the puzzle is impossible; nothing can be done about it.

But there is a way out - which has nothing to do with the puzzle, remember. You
have to wake up. That has nothing to do with the bottle and nothing to do with the
goose either. You have to wake up. It has something to do with YOU. That's why
Nansen did not answer the question.

Riko asked: "If a man puts a gosling into a bottle and feeds him until he is full-
grown, how can the man get the goose out without killing it or breaking the bottle?"
Nansen didn't answer. On the other hand, he gave a great clap with his hands and
shouted: "Riko!"
Now, this is not an answer to the question - this has nothing to do with the
question at all - it is irrelevant, inconsistent. But it solves it; in fact, it dissolves it. The
moment he shouted: "Riko!" the official with a start said: "Yes, Master." The whole
plane of his being is transformed by a simple strategy.

A Master is not a teacher; he does not teach you, he simply devises methods to
wake you up. That clap is a method, that clap simply brought Riko into the present.
And it was so unexpected... When you are asking such a spiritual koan you don't
expect the Master to answer you with a loud clap and then shout: "Riko!"

Suddenly he is brought from the past, from the future. Suddenly for a moment he
forgets the whole problem. Where is the bottle and where is the goose? There is only
the Master, in a strange posture, clapping and shouting for Riko. Suddenly the whole
problem is dropped. He has slipped out of the problem without even knowing that he
slipped out of it. He has slipped out of the problem as a snake slips out of its old skin.
For a moment time has stopped. For a moment the clock has stopped. For a moment
the mind has stopped. For a moment there is nothing. The Master, the sound of the
clap, and a sudden awakening. In that very moment the Master says: "See! See, the
goose is out!" It is dissolved.

A koan can only be dissolved but can never be solved. A puzzle can never be
dissolved but can be solved. So remember, a koan is not a puzzle.

But when people who are accustomed to continuous thinking, logical reasoning,
start studying Zen, they take a false step from the very beginning. Zen cannot be
studied; it has to be lived, it has to be imbibed - imbibed from a living Master. It is a
transmission beyond words, a transmission of the lamp. The lamp is invisible.
Now, anybody watching this whole situation - Riko asking a question, the Master
clapping and shouting - would not have found anything very spiritual in it, would not
have found any great philosophy, may have come back very frustrated. But
something transpired - something which is not visible and can never be visible.
 It happens only when the silence of the Master penetrates the silence of the
disciple, when two silences meet and merge; then immediately there is seeing. The
Master has eyes, the disciple has eyes, but the disciple's eyes are closed. A device is
needed, some method, so that the disciple can open his eyes without any effort of his
own. If he makes an effort he will miss the point, because who will make the effort?

Christmas Humphreys, one of the great lovers of Zen in the West, the founder of
the Buddhist Society of England and the man who made Zen Buddhism very famous
in the Western world, writes about this koan, and you will see the difference. He says:
"There is a method of taking the problem in flank, as it were. It will be nonsense to
the rational-minded, but such will read no further. Those who read on will expect
increasing nonsense, for sense, the suburban villas of rational thought, will soon be
left behind, and the mind will be free on the illimitable hills of its own inherent joy.
Here, then, is the real solution to the problem of the opposites.
"Shall I tell it you? Consider a live goose in a bottle. How to get it out without
hurting the goose or breaking the bottle? The answer is simple - 'There, it's out!"'