Sri Aurobindo
The Mother
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~ new per view, for you ~
Surrender: the decision to hand over the responsibility of your life to the Divine. This is done either through the mind or the emotion or the life-impulse or through all of them together.
Tangled is the way of works in the world. When Rama the Avatar murdered Vali or Krishna, who was God himself, assassinated, to liberate his nation, his tyrant uncle Kansa, who shall say whether they did good or did evil? But this we can feel, that they acted divinely.
A "personalised" section means that the content is refreshed per view for you, as if in answer to your inner aspiration.
The content is selected from the words of The Mother and Sri Aurobindo. It is the electronic equivalent of looking up any of Sri Aurobindo's or The Mother's works to receive an indication or answer. The explanation of the physical process follows..
Everybody can do it. It is done in this way: you concentrate. Now, it depends on what you want. If you have an inner problem and want the solution, you concentrate on this problem; if you want to know the condition you are in, which you are not aware of - if you want to get some light on the state you are in, you just come forward with simplicity and ask for the light. Or else, quite simply, if you are curious to know what the invisible knowledge has to tell you, you remain silent and still for a moment and then open the book. I always used to recommend taking a paper-knife, because it is thinner; while you are concentrated you insert it in the book and with the tip indicate something. Then, if you know how to concentrate, that is to say, if you really do it with an aspiration to have an answer, it always comes.
For, in books of this kind (Mother shows The Synthesis of Yoga), books of revelation, there is always an accumulation of forces - at least of higher mental forces, and most often of spiritual forces of the highest knowledge. Every book, on account of the words it contains, is like a small accumulator of these forces. People don't know this, for they don't know how to make use of it, but it is so. In the same way, in every picture, photograph, there is an accumulation, a small accumulation representative of the force of the person whose picture it is, of his nature and, if he has powers, of his powers. Now, you, when you are sincere and have an aspiration, you emanate a certain vibration, the vibration of your aspiration which goes and meets the corresponding force in the book, and it is a higher consciousness which gives you the answer.
Everything is contained potentially. Each element of a whole potentially contains what is in the whole. It is a little difficult to explain, but you will understand with an example: when people want to practise magic, if they have a bit of nail or hair, it is enough for them, because within this, potentially, there is all that is in the being itself. And in a book there is potentially - not expressed, not manifest - the knowledge which is in the person who wrote the book. Thus, Sri Aurobindo represented a totality of comprehension and knowledge and power; and every one of his books is at once a symbol and a representation. Every one of his books contains symbolically, potentially, what is in him. Therefore, if you concentrate on the book, you can, through the book, go back to the source. And even, by passing through the book, you will be able to receive much more than what is just in the book.
There is always a way of reading and understanding what one reads, which gives an answer to what you want. It is not just a chance or an amusement, nor is it a kind of diversion. You may do it just "like that", and then nothing at all happens to you, you have no reply and it is not interesting. But if you do it seriously, if seriously your aspiration tries to concentrate on this instrument - it is like a battery, isn't it, which contains energies - if it tries to come into contact with the energy which is there and insists on having the answer to what it wants to know, well, naturally, the energy which is there - the union of the two forces, the force given out by you and that accumulated in the book - will guide your hand and your paper-knife or whatever you have; it will guide you exactly to the thing that expresses what you ought to know…. Obviously, if one does it without sincerity or conviction, nothing at all happens. If it is done sincerely, one gets an answer.
Certain books are like this, more powerfully charged than others; there are others where the result is less clear. But generally, books containing aphorisms and short sentences - not very long philosophical explanations, but rather things in a condensed and precise form - it is with these that one succeeds best.
Naturally, the value of the answer depends on the value of the spiritual force contained in the book. If you take a novel, it will tell you nothing at all but stupidities. But if you take a book containing a condensation of forces - of knowledge or spiritual force or teaching power - you will receive your answer.
In the night as in the day be always with me. In sleep as in waking let me feel in me always the reality of your presence. Let it sustain and make to grow in me Truth, consciousness and bliss constantly and at all times.
A life of intensities wide, immune Floats behind the earth and her life-fret, A magic of realms mastered by spell and rune, Grandiose, blissful, coloured, increate.
A music there wanders mortal ear Hears not, seizing, intimate, remote, Wide-winged in soul-spaces, fire-clear, Heaping note on enrapturing new note.
Forms deathless there triumph, hues divine Thrill with nets of glory the moved air; Each sense is an ecstasy, love the sign Of one outblaze of godhead that two share.
The peace of the senses, the senses' stir On one harp are joined mysteries; pain Transmuted is ravishment's minister, A high note and a fiery refrain.
All things are a harmony faultless, pure; Grief is not nor stain-wound of desire; The heart-beats are a cadence bright and sure Of Joy's quick steps, too invincible to tire.
A Will there, a Force, a magician Mind Moves, and builds at once its delight-norms, The marvels it seeks for surprised, outlined, Hued, alive, a cosmos of fair forms,
Sounds, colours, joy-flamings. Life lies here Dreaming, bound to the heavens of its goal, In the clasp of a Power that enthrals to sheer Bliss and beauty body and rapt soul.
My spirit sank drowned in the wonder surge: Screened, withdrawn was the greatness it had sought; Lost was the storm-stress and the warrior urge, Lost the titan winging of the thought.
It lay at ease in a sweetness of heaven-sense Delivered from grief, with no need left to aspire, Free, self-dispersed in voluptuous innocence, Lulled and borne into roseate cloud-fire.
But suddenly there soared a dateless cry, Deep as Night, imperishable as Time; It seemed Death's dire appeal to Eternity, Earth's outcry to the limitless Sublime.
"O high seeker of immortality, Is there not, ineffable, a bliss Too vast for these finite harmonies, Too divine for the moment's unsure kiss?
"Arms taking to a voiceless supreme delight, Life that meets the Eternal with close breast, An unwalled mind dissolved in the Infinite, Force one with unimaginable rest?
"I, Earth, have a deeper power than Heaven; My lonely sorrow surpasses its rose-joys, A red and bitter seed of the raptures seven;— My dumbness fills with echoes of a far Voice.
"By me the last finite, yearning, strives To reach the last infinity's unknown, The Eternal is broken into fleeting lives And Godhead pent in the mire and the stone."
Dissolving the kingdoms of happy ease Rocked and split and faded their dream-chime. All vanished; ungrasped eternities Sole survived and Timelessness seized Time.
Earth's heart was felt beating below me still, Veiled, immense, unthinkable above My consciousness climbed like a topless hill, Crossed seas of Light to epiphanies of Love.
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O Lord, Master of our life, let us soar very high above all care for our material preservation. Nothing is more humiliating and depressing than these thoughts so constantly turned towards the preservation of the body, these preoccupations with health, the means of subsistence, the framework of life.... How very insignificant is all this, a thin smoke that a simple breath can disperse or a single thought turned towards Thee dispel like a vain mirage!
Deliver those who are in this bondage, O Lord, even as those who are the slaves of passion. On the path that leads to Thee these obstacles are at once terrible and puerile—terrible for those who are yet under their sway, puerile for one who has passed beyond.
How shall I describe that utter relief, that delightful lightness which comes when one is free from all anxiety for oneself, for one's life and health and satisfaction, and even one's progress?
This relief, this deliverance Thou hast granted to me, O Thou, Divine Master, Life of my life and Light of my light, O Thou who unceasingly teachest me love and makest me know the purpose of my existence.
It is Thou who livest in me, Thou alone; and why should I be preoccupied with myself and what might happen to me? Without Thee the dust constituting this body that strives to manifest Thee, would disperse amorphous and inconscient; without Thee this sensibility which makes possible a relation with all other centres of
manifestation, would vanish into a dark inertia; without Thee this thought that animates and illumines the whole being, would be vague, vacant, unrealised; without Thee the sublime love which vivifies, coordinates, animates and gives warmth to all things would be a yet unawakened possibility. Without Thee all is inert, brute or inconscient. Thou art all that illumines and enraptures us, the whole reason of our existence and all our goal. Is this not enough to cure us of every personal thought, to make us spread our wings and soar above the contingencies of material life, so as to fly away into Thy divine atmosphere and be able to return as Thy messengers to the earth to announce the glorious tidings of Thy approaching Advent?
O Divine Master, sublime Friend, marvellous Teacher, in a fecund silence I bow to Thee.
Prayers & Meditations >>
Savitri Book 1 Canto 4 - The Secret Knowledge
Thus will the masked Transcendent mount his throne. ||11.44|| When darkness deepens strangling the earth’s breast And man’s corporeal mind is the only lamp, As a thief’s in the night shall be the covert tread Of one who steps unseen into his house. ||11.45||
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