The Hassid mystic, Zusia, was dying, and he started praying.
Tears were flowing down from his eyes and he was trembling.
And somebody asked ‘What is the matter? Why are you trembling?’
He was saying ‘I am trembling for a certain reason. This is my last moment, I am dying. Soon I will be facing my God, and I am certain he is not going to ask me “Zusia, why were you not a Moses?
If he asks I will say “Lord, because you didn’t give me the qualities of a Moses!”; there will be no problem. He will not ask me “Why were you not the Rabbi Akiba?” I will tell him “Sir, you never gave me the qualities of being an Akiba, that’s why.”
But I am trembling because if he asks “Zusia, why were you not a Zusia” then I will have nothing to answer, then I will have to look down in shame. That’s why I am trembling and these tears are flowing.
My whole life I tried to become Moses or Akiba or somebody else, and I completely forgot that he wanted me to be just Zusia and nobody else. Now I am trembling, now I am afraid. If he asks this question, what am I going to answer?
How will I be able to raise my eyes when he says “Why were you not Zusia? You were given all the qualities of being a Zusia, how did you miss?”
And I have missed in imitating others.’
Osho – THE SUN RISES IN THE EVENING