(Long silence, Mother shakes her head several times as if at a loss, she tries to speak and plunges in again.)
The same identical circumstances, occurring at the same time, can cause a marvelous bliss—marvelous, as I have never felt before—or sheer hell. The very same circumstances, and at the same time.
For hours on end it’s enough to drive you mad, and for a few… (maybe hours, maybe minutes—the sense of time isn’t the same, but anyway…) a wonder. A wonderful Presence.
It doesn’t really depend on circumstances: the circumstances are always the same, and yet….
And in this new consciousness, time has a completely different value: I feel I have spent a few minutes, and I am told it’s been almost an hour. That’s how it is.
(silence)
So it’s as you want. If you want to meditate….
Personally, I have a strange impression. In the past, years ago, I used to feel that a part of my consciousness was vast, was… this or that; but now I understand fully well what you mean by an “old piece of bark” (you know, “There’s only an old piece of bark left”), I feel I am only a mass of flaws, of imperfections, of dark elements and so on, but the other part of myself completely eludes me. There is only this sort of facade full of unpleasant and clashing and false things. While the other part, the other “me”… I don’t know, it eludes me completely. I know it’s there, but I am mainly conscious of all this that’s in front of me.
(Mother plunges in)
***
January 24, 1973
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