Vertical time' - a sort of absoluteness in each second. As if Mother were experiencing her body at the level of subatomic physics. A new mode of life in matter.
The course of 1961, the year of the first American voyage in space, arrives at the heart of the great mystery– "It is double! It is the same world and yet it is.... what?" In one world, everything is harmonious, without the least possibility of illness, accident or death – "a miraculous harmony" – and in the other, everything goes wrong. Yet it is the same world of matter - separated by what? "More and more, I feel it’s a question of the vibration in matter." And then, what is this "vertical time" which suddenly opens up another way of living and being in the matter, in which causality ceases to exist – "A sort of absoluteness in each second"? A new world each second, ageless, leaving no trace or imprint. And this "massive immobility" in a lightning-fast movement, this "twinkling of vibrations," as if Mother were no longer experiencing her body at the macroscopic level, but at the level of subatomic physics. And sixty years of "spiritual life" crumble like a "far more serious illusion" before.... a new Divine... or a new mode of life in matter? The next mode? "I am in the midst of hewing a path through a virgin forest." Volume II records the opening up of this path.
I haven't done anything, haven't worked, answered questions or prepared anything for the Bulletin—nothing at all.
You saw the people waiting in the corridor; when I left the other day they kept me there three-quarters of an hour and when I finally went upstairs I was ill. Not really ill but not well. So once again it's all called into question.
Mother goes on to the work and listens to the reading of an old Talk of September 26, 1956, to be used in the Bulletin. In it she speaks of moments of opening in the yoga:
'Then there are days when you are in contact with the divine Consciousness, with the Grace, and all is tinged, colored by this Presence, and things which usually seem dull to you become charming and pleasant... all is alive, all is vibrant. At other moments you are clouded, closed, you no longer feel anything, everything loses its flavor... you are like a walking block of wood.'
It comes and goes along the way, you don't keep it permanently; it's like crossing a zone, a perfumed zone, and then it's past—for the moment, it's over. A fleeting caress.
After the work:
Generally speaking, the progress is undeniable, but the physical body... has a terrible need of rest. It's annoying, for it prevents me from working.
How to explain it?... It's rather strange: the cells' attitude and their state of consciousness is changing with extraordinary rapidity; yet from the ordinary viewpoint of 'health,' there is no corresponding progress, quite the contrary. One could say things aren't going too well, but I see clearly that it's not true. I see that it isn't true, it's only an appearance—but reconciling the two is difficult.
I have been honored with a form of filariasis which occurs perhaps not once in a million cases.... The doctor isn't tearing his hair out because that's not his way, but he is perplexed.
Page 126
Yet the cells sense so perfectly that.... All the experiences in the subconscient at night are quite clear proofs that a... a WORLD of things and vibrations is being cleaned out—all the vibrations opposed to the cellular transformation. But how can one poor little body do all that work! The body is quite aware of being a sort of accumulation and concentration of things (yet there is inevitably a selection—Mother laughs—because if everything had to be worked out in one center like this [her body] it would be... it would be impossible!). Oh, if you knew how deeply and perfectly convinced these cells are, in all their groups and sub-groups, each one individually and within the whole, that everything is not only decreed but executed by the Divine, everything! They have a kind of constant awareness so filled with... a conscious faith in His infinite wisdom, even when there is what the ordinary consciousness calls suffering or pain. That's not what it is for the cells—it's something else! And the result is a state of... yes, a state of peaceful combat. There is a sense of Peace, the vibration of Peace, and simultaneously an impression of being... (how to put it?) on the alert, in constant combat. Taken all together it creates a rather odd situation.
And within... oh! It's like waves, constantly, the equivalent of those nuances of color I was speaking about, waves of this joy of life, the joy of life rippling past, touching; but instead of being.... At times, you see, the body is in a sort of equilibrium (what we, in our ordinary outer consciousness, call 'equilibrium'—that is, good health), and then this joy is constant, like swells on the sea (Mother shapes great waves): it seems to flow on behind everything; it comes and shows its face for a moment, then vanishes. In the very tiny things of life—yes, physical life—the joy of these things, the joy life contains, this luminous, special kind of vibration, rises up as if to remind us that it's here; it is here, it mustn't be forgotten, it's here—but it's kept down by this... tension.
Then, from time to time, everything seems to be on the edge of a precipice; the body doesn't fall simply because it keeps its balance—but without this higher state of perfect faith, one would surely fall!
All together, as a whole, it's something so... peculiar!1
(long silence)
Page 127
There is the sense of all things being organized, concentrated and arranged according to a rhythm, and if one manages to maintain the equilibrium of this rhythm, something permanent results.
(Mother remains absorbed within herself) The equilibrium of this rhythm—the progressive, ascending equilibrium of this rhythm—is what, for Matter, must constitute Immortality.
Yet even so....
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