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.
In the middle of my walk, I go into trance, something that has never happened to me before! I find myself standing, immobilized, entirely surrounded by white light, in total silence, with absolutely nothing in my head—nothing.
Standing up in that state is rather dangerous, so I lie down on my bed. And it continues—I hear nothing, see nothing but this white light. No more thought, not one idea in my head, nothing at all, to such an extent that if anyone enters noiselessly, I don't know it. But I do feel the pressure of someone watching me; I can sense it, so I open my eyes and there is actually someone there.
But work, mon petit.... I can't work. I can't remember even the simplest things I am supposed to remember! I wanted to tell you when my free days were, but I no longer recall them.
Yet it produces an extraordinarily keen perception of what is behind things. For instance, I've just seen the [school] children;
I'm more or less familiar with them all, and I can see—not with images—their inner natures much more clearly than usual. The inner perception, the perception of what people are feeling and thinking, is very acute, so much so that I see thoughts and feelings more that I see physical appearances.
But work—not a stroke. Ah, yes, I am translating The Synthesis of Yoga and it seems much easier. I go slower, a certain tension has disappeared, and the meaning is far clearer than usual. In other words, I'm interiorized—there you have it.
But it's deplorable from an external viewpoint! Unread letters are piling up; I don't reply to people, I forget everything—I don't even try to remember. From an external point of view, I'm pretty worthless.
It will last just as long as it lasts.
And of course, as always, there's an accumulation of people, of visitors asking to see me.... There is always this external contradiction.
But a day more or less doesn't matter!
I'm already late... (Mother gets up hastily).
Page 389
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