Divine Play vs Absolute Seriousness

New Age doctrines tend to advocate a lighthearted approach to life; a focus on the present; and a certain divorce from all seriousness. It encourages one to live life with less severity as is made explicit in Acharya Prashant’s discussion on Osho.

Osho, also known as Bhagwan Shri Rajneesh, was an Indian mystic born December 11,  1931 who founded the Rajneesh movement. His teachings have since had a resounding impact on Western New Age thought, more especially his claim that “Seriousness is a sin, and…a disease.” Osho emphasized that seriousness was the greatest affliction to the soul, insisting on the importance of play not creation. In his view, to say that God created the world would be to insinuate intention, when in fact “the world” Osho writes, “is not his creation, but his play.” Osho’s understanding was that embracing the spirit of playfulness naturally aligned us with the divine. 

That said, the idea that one should lighten up, let loose, laugh a little, has been a recurring motif in several  narratives centered on self discovery. But while this may seem positive , perhaps even delightful. it surreptitiously trivializes acts of intention and is sometimes weaponized against moral uprightness. Whats more, I find, this notion is often intrinsically linked to our desirability as women. We curse ourselves, trying to forge this spirit which is innate for many and difficult for some. 

Some people are by nature very serious. And this temperament can make the world feel like a hostile place. Presumably, seriousness is seen as a mask one wears, momentarily, when dealing with matters of importance. The assumption is that once they have been relieved of such circumstance, when they can finally relax, they will succumb to the playful spirit of the universe - the most authentic expression of themselves. But that may not be the case for others, and it has certainly never been the case for me. Ever since I was a child, for no reason at all, I was always serious. And each time I was told to play, I felt as though I was being tasked with an exercise. What I would experience was not play, but a game. A game with rules and stakes. And so I found, even my playfulness was imbued with a sense of severity. Children easily sense the weight of this temperament and distance themselves from that kind of energy. But I find this repugnance is prevalent, in more subtle ways, among adults as well. 

In the discussion above, Prachants states that “ when the mind gets attached to something and starts having great hope or great fear with respect to it, that is the seriousness that osho is condemning as the greatest disease.” The Idea being that if we hold onto things with the fear of their impermanence, we will hold on to those things with seriousness. It is the kind of grip that unsettles relationships, that dismantles friendships, and leads to disillusionment in the end. Because what is certain about the world Osho describes; is impermanence. 

But perhaps this is what is so appealing about the God of Sabaoth. It is the complete and authoritative presence of a Father, and his utmost seriousness. The Lord of the scriptures creates the world with intent. It is a world separate from his, levied with impossible stakes: the consequence of death, the promise of eternal life, and the ultimate atonement for sin. And most importantly, this is a God to whom you must hold onto, with great hope and great fear, in complete seriousness. His world is not a playground but a battlefield.  

In contrast, Osho’s idea of Divine Play can be characterized by the Hindu word Leela (lila) which describes the effortless, playful relation between oneself and the Absolute. Leela emphasizes the role of delight in creation and supports his notion that to be too severe is to be at odds with the contingent world. This draws the conclusion  that not only are these philosophies different from each other, they are also in opposition to one another. The isolation that is experienced by those who feel burdened with the obligation to play, indicates that there is an element of force in the spirit of playfulness. 

We’ve seen these two energies contend with one another in Cinema: be that in the epic rivalry between Batman and The Joker, or Dragonball Z’s Goku vs Vegeeta. In each example, playfulness is presented as either an antagonistic force or a heroic quality. But perhaps the most intriguing portrayal of the dance between these two energies is in Masaru Gotsubo’s Samurai Champloo. Samurai Champloo, set in Japan’s Edo period, follows the journey of the dogmatic Samurai, Jin and his carefree, chaotic rival Mugan in their quest to help a young lady Muu, find a samurai who smells like sunflowers. The ongoing rivalry between Jin and Mugen is a consequence of their being each a half to Yin and Yang. Both are different but equal in every way, and the juxtaposing spirit imbued in their technique makes it impossible for one to defeat the other. 

Alternatively, it could be argued that the most clear distinction between these two energies can be found in the biblical definition of Good vs Evil. We shy from this definition because it imposes judgement, condemning one way of being and upholding another. However, it is precisely this clarity that appeals to the more serious in attitude. While Mugen see’s Jin as simply uptight and somewhat of a bore, Jin sees Mugen’s recklessness as immoral and to an extent evil. There is definitely more weight on one judgement than there is on the other. One is far more intense, and perhaps here lies the reason behind the New Age tilt towards the former (playfulness) as opposed to the latter (seriousness). 

But seriousness can also be taken as a form of sincerity. It doesn’t play because it is associated with what is true and therefore what is important. Whats left to say is that those of us who feel burdened with the obligation to play, who feel estranged from our nature because it isolates us in the contingent world, can take comfort in the belief that we may be free to be severe in the next.