classes ::: Agenda Vol 07, The Mother, Satprem, Integral Yoga, chapter,
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object:1966-05-14
book class:Agenda Vol 07
author class:The Mother
author class:Satprem
subject class:Integral Yoga
class:chapter


1966 Sat 14 May
May 14, 1966

I have queer eyes. They have become peculiar.

This eye [the left] sees extremely clearlyextremely clearlyalmost more clearly than before, but in the entire corner here, in the very corner, there is a sort of little fog, very, very small like a needle pointno, a pinhead. So that I cant read with it. With this one [the right] I can read, theres nothing, but its dimmed: there isnt half the clarity of the other. But the left is fantastically clear! Very well. So I am accustomed to reading with a magnifying glass [with the right eye], and it has become that way; but when I look at a photograph with a magnifying glass, the photo starts having three dimensions (gesture as if the photo were surging forward), so that I see the person not in colors but alive, the picture is alive. It has three dimensions and the person moves. So I look at the photo with my magnifying glassand I see the person moving!

With the left eye, oh, it has extraordinary precision, but I cant read because (and still I could read, its an idea, just an impression), there is a sort of very, very small cloud in the corner, here. Theres nothing (laughing), I have no cataract! There was a time when it was fairly widespread in that corner, and I showed it (long ago, two years ago), I showed it to the doctor, who told me it was inside: its not on the surface of the eye, its inside. He told me, It wont go. I told him, Ah, wont it!in six months it was gone, completely gone. It came back just a littleit has come back, but it will go!

But these are queer things, as if someone were having fun doing experiments with my eyes.

I see in a strange wayvery strange.

And the magnifying glass is beginning to be useless.

(silence)

But everything, absolutely everything is becoming strange. As if there were two, three, four realities (superimposed gesture) or appearances, I dont know (but they are rather realities), one behind another or one within another, like that, and in the space of a few minutes it changes (gesture as if one reality were surging forward to overtake and replace another), as though one world were just there, inside, and emerged all of a sudden. When I have peace and quiet, there is a slight not a movement, I dont know what it is: it might rather feel like pulsations, and depending on the case, there are different experiences. For instance, customary things take a usual amount of time when nothing abnormal happens, and then you have an exact sense of the time they take. So then, I am given the following experience, of the same thing done in the same way, accomplished a first time in its normal duration, and another time, when I am in another state, that is, when the consciousness seems to be placed elsewhere, the thing seems to be done in a second!Exactly the same thing: habitual gestures, things you do absolutely every day, quite ordinary things. Then, another time (and its not that I try to have it, I dont try at all: I am PUT in that state), another time I am put in another state (to me, it doesnt make much difference, they are like very small differences in the concentration), and in that state, the same thing, oh, takes a long, long time, an endless time to get done! Just to fold a towel, for instance (I am not the one who does it), someone folds a towel or someone puts a bottle away, wholly material and absolutely simple things devoid of any psychological value; someone folds a towel thats on the floor (I am giving that example): there is a normal time, which I perceive internally after a study; its the normal time, when everything is normal, that is, usual; then, I am in a certain concentration and without my even having the time to notice it, its done! I am in another state of concentration, with absolutely minimal differences as far as the concentration is concerned, and its endless! You feel it takes half an hour to get done.

If it occurred just once, youd say, Never mind, but it takes place with persistence and regularity, as when someone is trying to teach you something. A sort of insistence and regular repetition as if someone wanted to teach me something.

Also, I spend a part of my nights in a certain state of consciousness (generally, more often than not, almost every night its with Sri Aurobindo). But its not just like that, its not by chance or as if out of habit, thats not it: its a teaching, and things are presented in one way or another as if to make me understand something. But (laughing) I am extremely stupid! Because the mind doesnt work, so I dont understand anything I just note the fact. I note and note and note, but I dont draw any conclusions, so I am shown the thing yet again. And it follows, yes, it follows a sort of curve of experience. In fact, I might say its a repeated demonstration given to someone stupid like me to show me the difference in consciousness between being in this body and being without a body.

It seems to me to be that.

But then, down to the last details and with persistenceyou know, like when you have to teach something to an animal or to a very small child (!), thats how it is, by repetition.

The other day, for example, the day before yesterday (not last night, but the night before), I was with Sri Aurobindo, and Sri Aurobindo had taken on the appearance of the photograph of him in which he is young, with long hair: that full-face photograph in which he has a fair complexion and very dark hair. He was like tha the WAS like that, it wasnt a picture: he WAS like that. And we were looking at certain things, talking about certain things (we dont talk much, but anyway), looking at some thingswhen I suddenly see his face all tormented like this (gesture as if the face had shrunk). He usually always has a very calm and very smiling, quiet face; but all of a sudden, it was quite tormented, and then he abruptly sat back on that sort of seat, a sort of couch. So I looked at him, and he told me, Oh, how they are distorting things. Look at this fellow, how they are distorting things. Almost immediately afterwards, it was time and I woke up, I got up. And I said to myself, I thought one wasnt tormented in that state! Then I heard today that A., who was here and left to be a political activist there [in Bengal], is speaking in Sri Aurobindos name, mon petit! And he issues political declarations. Thats what I had seen. It wasnt that Sri Aurobindo was annoyed: the image of his face was the image of what the others were doing!1 (Mother laughs) How can I explain it? Its very strange, you know. It was the image of what those people did with his teaching, it wasnt the expression of his own feeling. You know, what goes on here, what we describe, is so blunt, devoid of fineness, crude, like a rough-hewn statue: its rough, crude, exaggerated; and its distorted by the sense of separation given by the ego. While there, I dont know how to explain, there, all is one, there is one single thing taking on all sorts of forms like that (Mother turns her two hands together, one wrapped inside the other) in order to express something, but not with one center that feels and another center that sees and another center that understands; its not like that, its (same gesture), its all ONE substance with inexpressible suppleness, which adapts itself to all the movements of all that happens, which expresses all that happens, without separation. So then, it leaves me in a state that goes on for hours in the morning, in which I am in this world [here], yet without being in it. Because I dont feel things the way the world feels them. Its a very strange phenomenon.

Yesterday, I remained like that the whole morning, in a very strange state, and the state seemed to want me to remember, to have the memory, and it left me only when I said (I said, I dont know, I didnt say it to anyone, I just said) that I would tell you about it today. Then I was allowed to resume contact with everyday life.

There is something like the influence of a mentor, someone who knows, or a consciousness that knows and teaches me things; yet I dont see anyone, I dont feel anyone, but thats how it is. Its very, very strange.

Ah, lets take up Savitri.

Do you want to tell me something? (Laughing) I seem to have put you in a complete daze!

No, you say you dont draw conclusions, but I try to!

Oh, conclusions, I dont know.

In short, its the consciousness of Eternity learning to enter into Time, into Matter?

Yes, thats an idea, maybe thats it!

Surely well see one day, well understand.
***

(Mother reads a few lines in which Death derides all human beliefs, concepts, philosophies, inventions.)

And sciences omnipotent in vain
By which men learn of what the suns are made,
Transform all forms to serve their outward needs,
Ride through the sky and sail beneath the sea,
But learn not what they are or why they came.

(X.IV.644)

Its really charming!

I like this:

Ride through the sky and sail beneath the sea,
But learn not what they are or why they came

Hes a monument of pessimism.

But its true, thats the trouble, its true! Only, something is missing: what she is going to say. Or does she say nothing?

Certainly, she is going to answer.

But she doesnt shut him up. Its difficult.

But thats because its He!2

The other day I had an extraordinary experience, in which all the pessimistic arguments, all the negations and denials came from all sides, represented by everybody. And then, those who believed in the presence of a God or something something more powerful than they and ruling the worldwere in a fury, a dreadful revolt: But I want none of him! But he spoils all our life, he It was a dreadful revolt, from every side, a truckload of abuse for the Divine with such force of asuric reaction from every side. So I sat there (as if Mother sat in the middle of the mle), watching: What can be done? You know, it was impossible to answer, impossible, there wasnt one argument, not one idea, not one theory, not one belief, nothing, nothing whatsoever that could answer it. For the space of a second, the impression was: its hopeless. Then, all of a sudden all of a sudden Its indescribable (gesture of absolute abandon). There was that violence of revolt against things as they are, and, mixed with it, there was: Let this world disappear, let nothing remain, let it not exist! All that, which at bottom is a revolt, all that nihilist revolt: let nothing remain, let everything cease to exist. It reached a height of tension, and just at the height of tension, when you felt there was no solution, suddenly surrender. But something stronger than surrenderit wasnt abdication, it wasnt self-giving, it wasnt acceptance, it was something much more radical, and at the same time much sweeter. I cant say what it was. It had the joy and flavor of giving, but with such a sense of plenitude! Like a dazzling flash, you know, suddenly like that: the very essence of surrender, the True Thing.

It was it was so powerful and marvelous, such sublime joy that the body started quivering for a second. Afterwards it was gone.

And after that, after that experience, all of it, all the revolt, all the negation, all of it was as if swept away.

If one could keep that, that experience, keep it constantlyits there, its always there; its there, of course, but I have to stop in order to feel it. I have to stopstop speaking, moving, actingin order to feel it in its plenitude. But if it were here, ACTIVE it would be All-Powerfulness. It means becoming That instantaneously.

There were two days recently (since I saw you last time), two days especially Thursday, the day the peacock3 was there. The peacock crowed victory the whole day (I saw it in the evening, it came and saw me on the terrace, it was so sweet!). Two very, very difficult days. After that, a sort of solidly established feeling that nothing is impossiblenothing is impossible (Mother points to Matter). What thought has long known, what the heart has long known, what the whole inner being has long known, now the body too knows: nothing, nothing whatever is impossible, everything is possible. Here inside, here inside, in this (Mother strikes her body), everything is possible.

All the impossibilities created by material life have disappeared.

One must have the strength the strength to carry it in oneself always.

Let us recall that vision of Mother's in which she saw Sri Aurobindo with a truss (!), and the truss was all the cuts the Ashram's editors were making in his works.

Satprem means that Death is a mask of "Him," of the Supreme.

A disciple's peacock had escaped and spent the whole day in the tree above the Samadhi and on the Ashram's terraces. (The peacock is the symbol of victory.)

***


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now begins generated list of local instances, definitions, quotes, instances in chapters, wordnet info if available and instances among weblinks


OBJECT INSTANCES [0] - TOPICS - AUTHORS - BOOKS - CHAPTERS - CLASSES - SEE ALSO - SIMILAR TITLES

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SEE ALSO


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BOOKS

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1966-05-14

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1966-05-14

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chapter
SIMILAR TITLES

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IN WEBGEN [10000/32]

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