It’s strange, I have suddenly been forbidden to speak, as it were, and… I don’t know how to explain it, I feel as if I were talking from a distance. I don’t know how to explain. And that’s what has given me this husky voice (Mother’s voice is a little hoarse). I think it’s undergoing a sort of transformation. Previously, there used to be great control over the voice, the sound of the voice—it’s all gone! It’s as if I made something speak that’s very far from me.
It will pass.
(silence)
And for everything, everything… there is a change in the MODE of being. For the nights too: the nights are very different—all that was organized, very regular, very organized, very conscious, and now it’s all changed. And the consciousness… is, yes, constantly external to the instrument, like something like this (gesture above), very vast—very vast and supple—but constantly like this, night and day. Yet it’s the consciousness of this (Mother touches her body), of the instrument. It’s what was the body consciousness; now it’s the same consciousness but it has become something very vast, very strong, and like this (same gesture above), as if at a distance from the body; it acts on the body like that, all the time, to make it move. And the body doesn’t seem to be so confined to the form: it feels things some distance away, it touches things some distance away.
Strange. (Laughing) Something is going on, I don’t knew what!
***
(After Satprem has gone back home, Mother sends him this note:)
This is what I tried to say this morning:
Instead of the consciousness being inside the body, it is the body which is inside the consciousness, yet it is still the body consciousness.
***
January 27, 1968
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