Peoples ordinary reaction to the activity of others, to everything around them, their general and ordinary way of seeing things, all of that represents a certain attitude of consciousness: it is seen from a certain level. And when I commented on those aphorisms the other day, I suddenly noticed that the level was different and the angle so different that the other attitude, the ordinary way of seeing things, appeared incomprehensibleyou wonder how you can have it, so different is it. And while I was speaking, I had a sort of sensation or perception that this new attitude was being established as a natural, spontaneous thingit isnt the result of an effort for transformation: its an already established transformation.
It isnt total, because both functionings are perceptible, but I am confident that it is on the way. Then it will be interesting.
As if certain parts of the consciousness were in a metamorphosis from the caterpillar state into the butterfly state, something like that.
Its just on the way. But far enough on the way to make the difference very perceptible. Once it is done, something will be established.
(silence)
From the necessity of certain circumstances, it so happens that I am read things I said ten years ago (statements or remarks I made): I really feel its somebody else! I find it odd.
Yet, at that time, it was the most sincere expression of the consciousness. Now I feel, Ah, I hadnt gone beyond that. A strange feeling.
And for Sri Aurobindos writings (not all), its the same; there are certain things I had truly understood, in the sense that they were already understood far more deeply and truly than even an enlightened mentality understands themthey were already felt and lived and now, they take on a completely different meaning.
I read some of those sentences or ideas that are expressed in few words, three or four words, m which he doesnt say things fully: he simply seems to let them fall like drops of water; when I read them at the time (sometimes not long ago; sometimes only two or three years ago), I had an experience which was already far deeper or vaster than that of intelligence, but now a spark of Light suddenly appears in them, and I say, Oh, but I hadnt seen that! And its a whole understanding or CONTACT with things that I had never had before.
It happened to me again just yesterday evening.
And I said to myself, But then then there are in that certain things we still have a long, long, long way to go to truly understand them. Because that spark of Light is something very, very purevery intense and very pure and it contains an absolute. And since it contains that (I havent always felt it; I have felt other things, I have felt a great light, I have felt a great power, I have felt something that already explained everything, but this is something else, its something which is beyond), so I concluded (laughing), Well, we still have a long way to go before we can understand Sri Aurobindo!
It was rather comforting.
The sense of a sort of certainty that he has opened the doors, and that when we are able, we will go through those doors.
Just yesterday. Its interesting.
But then, it leaves you speechless.
***
(A little later, regarding the last aphorism, about which Mother spoke of the haste in which people live.)
I have noticed this, too (I dont know if youve noticed it): the more quiet and still you are within yourself and the more you have eliminated that haste I was talking about, the faster time goes by. And the more you are in that precipitousness, the longer time is, the more it drags on and on. Its strange.
Years and months are going by with dizzying speed and without leaving any trace (thats what is interesting). So, if you look at it, you begin to understand how you can live almost indefinitelybecause there no longer is that friction of time.
***
As Satprem is about to leave, regarding his next novel, The Sannyasin:
Do you have something to say?
Theres a question I have been asking myself for some time, and I would like you to solve it for me. I am supposed to write a sequel to The Gold-Washeror rather, theyre expecting it, and also I thought I should do so. But I really wouldnt like to do it from an arbitrary decision. I would like You understand, I wouldnt like it to be me who decides.
You told me that some time ago! [in the dream state]
(Banteringly) I took a look and saw what you wanted to write, but I wont tell you!
I saw two things, which were, so to speak, concomitant, or superimposed (they occupied the same space). One seemed to me to be what you wanted to write, the other seemed to me to be what you will write. It was the same book, but it was very differentvery, very different. Yet it was the same book. I even saw images, I saw scenes, I saw sentences and I saw almost the entire story (if it can be called a story). It was very interesting, because one was matt and concrete (there was a kind of hardness in it, it was precise), while the other was vibrant and still uncertain, and there were sparks of light in it that were calling down something, that were trying to make something descend. And one was endeavoring to take the place of the other.1
So I followed that very closely, and then, when the work was finished (gesture as of a screen being pulled up), it went away, as always.
But I didnt mention it to you because I didnt want to say anything; I wanted to see what would happen.
I have the feeling that you will write the book only when that that old garment has fallen offwhen the other has taken its place.
I dont know, it was a few days ago, not very long ago, maybe a week or two, I dont remember (I never keep track of time), but anyway I had the feeling it was something being prepared in your subtle atmosphere, and that when the time has come, it will simply go like this (gesture of a vertical fall), it will drop down on your head (!), and then you will feel the urge to write.
And I was waiting for that.
I dont feel its really very immediate, but its clearly on the way to realization. Thats all I can tell you on the subject.
I even saw rather interesting things, because there were events that were like reminiscences of your past lives, and they found a place in your book. Those things are still quite in your subliminal. (They call it subliminal, dont they? Its something thats neither the subconscient nor the clear supraconscient; its a sort of subliminal consciousness.) Theyre there, they have remained as a memory and it is clear. And those reminiscences are like you know, what they put inside a clay statue to hold it up?
An armature.
They are the armature of the book.
But an armature that, probably, will not reveal itself; its only something that will give a cohesion but not a visible one, an unexpressed cohesion.
Thats all I saw.
But its interesting, because when I had finished seeing all those things, I said to myself, Well, well, would he be thinking of writing his book, by any chance?
I was thinking about it, but I didnt want it to be an arbitrary decision.
Thats it. It isnt ready yet; when its ready, it will drop down on your head.
(Mother looks above Satprems head)
Its well established, up there its very, very its becoming increasingly precise and clear. It is well established. Its above your head, firmly established.
In fact, Satprem wrote By the Body of the Earth or the Sannyasin two years later, in 1966. The first Sannyasin he conceived was like a Greek tragedyquite implacable and, naturally, tragic.
***
September 16, 1964
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