A change must take place at the atomic level..to undo the power of death. A new perception of life emerges with 'true matter', the matter of the next species.
"The only hope for the future is a change in man's consciousness. It is left to men to decide if they will collaborate to this change or if it will have to be imposed upon them by the power of crushing circumstances." As the new post gradually infiltrates Mother's body it is the earth one wonders about. How is the earth going to absorb "this vibration as intense as a superior kind of fire"? "I see very few bodies around me capable of bearing it.... So what's going to happen?" It is the year of the first Chinese atomic bomb. Mother is 86. "A tiny, infinitesimal, stippled infiltration - the miracle of the earth!" A catastrophic miracle? Isn't that butterfly some sort of catastrophe to the caterpillar? "Death is no solution, so we are here seeking another solution - there must be another solution." Imperturbably, Mother descends deeper into the cellular consciousness and deeper still: "A kind of certainty, deep in matter that the solution lies there.... It is at the atomic level that a change must take place; the question concerns the state of infinitesimal vibrations in matter." Time veers into something else: "Perhaps it is into the past that I go, perhaps the future, perhaps the present?...." And even the laws of matter change: "As soon as you reach the domain of the cells, that sort of heaviness of matter disappears. It becomes fluid and vibrant again. Which would tend to show that happiness, thickness, inertia have been added on - it's false matter, the one we think or feel, but not matter as it really is." So what, then, would true matter be, the matter of the next species? "I am on the threshold of a new perception of life, as if certain parts of my consciousness were changing from the caterpillar state to the butterfly state...." And the earth groans and protests.... at what? "The whole youth seems to be seized by a strange vertigo...." Are we going to move on to a next species or not?
(All of Satprem's letters to Mother having disappeared, as we already said, under lock and key in Pondicherry, we thought it fit to throw light on this journey to France by publishing, along with Mother's letters, a few fragments of Satprem's letters to Sujata.)
(From Satprem to Sujata)
Paris
For the past three days, I don't know how I've lived; I feel somewhat like a sleepwalker jostled about here, there and everywhere, walking, walking without quite knowing how, in a thick darkness—all I know is the Force, which I hold on to like a drowning
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man.... All that is left is the feeling of being far from home, far from all that is true, good, restful, the feeling of living in a hallucination—and yet, marvelously, the Force is there every minute, I breathe with it, live with it, otherwise I would drop dead, or simply go mad.
This is the last time in my life I'll return to the West, unless I receive an Order from Sri Aurobindo and Mother to do so—I cannot live here anymore, I feel as if I were going back to the prehistoric age of caves.
...Then they all rushed at me, one on the heels of another—family, friends, etc. I was completely bewildered. I had just enough strength to go into my room from time to time and rest on my bed, wrapping myself in the Force to hold out.
...How empty the days are—they are full of empty things, of empty people and empty movement. You feel you must constantly pull down the Force in order to fill up this enormous Emptiness, or else you would be utterly crushed. I keep my watch by Indian time, so that I always know where you are, although I never know what time it is in France! I have to make a complicated calculation and subtract four and a half hours: it's now 2:30 P.M. in our garden, therefore... 10 A.M. here, and I have an appointment. I will probably see Corréa1 tomorrow. My friend M. tells me that they definitely agree to publish the book, but they would like to "cut" certain passages!... So I will have to argue to try and keep my book more or less whole! What a world! I will write to Mother tomorrow, once I know what the publisher's demands are.
I have to see a doctor day after tomorrow... but no doctor can close the hole in my heart.
S.
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