classes ::: Agenda_Vol_09, The_Mother, Satprem, Integral_Yoga, chapter,
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object:1968-10-19
book class:Agenda Vol 09
author class:The Mother
author class:Satprem
subject class:Integral Yoga
class:chapter


1968 Sat 19 October
October 19, 1968

(Mother speaks these words haltingly; they are interspersed with long silences, as though dropping from far away... perhaps from eternity.)

I can remain without coughing, but because of that I can’t speak…. There’s nothing we can talk about. So there.

(silence)

The material, the physical is learning—it’s learning what it is—and that’s very interesting. But… it’s very hard to express.

(silence)

You see, I remain for hours and hours on end without speaking, and it’s like a development unfolding logically, but… This cough must be deliberate, to prevent me from speaking. Because I see things clearly…. One seems to waste one’s time speaking.

I remain, I can remain for hours, hours and hours like that, watching the development—a development at once universal and personal; but “personal,” there is so to speak no person, it’s something curious. There’s a series of states of consciousness being organized.

(silence)

There is in an almost constant and general way the impression that material things—not only things, but perceptions, sentiments (kinds of odd sentiments that have nothing to do with…) and ways of being, perceptions, consequences, reactions—all that constantly strikes me as being… (yes, I might put it like this), as being different from what people think.

I don’t know how to explain.

We could say that causes and consequences… (But it’s not something thought, that’s what is difficult.) It’s certainly something I am now discovering, so… I don’t know if it’s the cause or the process of deformation between what is and what’s perceived (what’s lived, perceived).

(Mother remains absorbed for a long time)

It’s still inexpressible.

One feels it can last… It’s almost on the fringe of time, one doesn’t know how to explain.

Inexpressible.

With, now and then, something like the reflection of an ineffable Happiness, but without motive; yet at other times there is a sort of… (what should I call it?) sadness or melancholy (I don’t know how to explain), also without motive, and which seems to be the result of the deformation of the other.

Very well. We must be patient.
***
October 16, 1968


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1968-10-19
select ::: Being, God, injunctions, media, place, powers, subjects,
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