Mother’s Agenda 1964

January 15, 1964

(after a long silence)

There is a curious transitional state in the most material consciousness, the body consciousness. A transition from the state of subjugation, of helplessness, in which one is constantly at the mercy of forces, vibrations, unexpected movements, all sorts of impulses—to the Power. The Power that asserts and realizes itself. It's the transition between the two; and there is almost a swarm of experiences of all types, from the most mental part of that consciousness down to the darkest, most material part.

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And when I want to say something, there immediately comes from all corners a swarm of things that want to be said and rush in all at the same time—which, naturally, prevents me from speaking.

It's a curious state.

The passage from an almost total helplessness—a sort of Fatality, like the imposition of a whole set of determinisms against which you are powerless, which weigh down on you—to a clear, definite Will, which, the MOMENT It expresses itself, is all-powerful.

(silence)

But, as a whole, it gives a sense of treading a very sharp ridge between two precipices.

(long silence)

It's impossible to say....

And this field of experience also includes the physical mind—all the mental constructions that have a direct action on life and on the body; there is there an almost unlimited field of experiences. And everything takes the form not of a speculation or a thought, but of an experience. I'll give you an example to make myself understood. I won't tell you the thing as it occurred, but as I now know it to be.... There is in France someone very devoted, born Catholic, and who was seriously ill. He wrote to me asking what he should do; he said that people around him naturally wanted him to receive extreme unction (they thought he was about to die), and he wrote to ask me if it had any influence on the progress of his inner being and whether he should refuse categorically. I knew none of this [as Mother had not yet received the letter], but I had an experience here, in which a priest and altar boys came to give me extreme unction! (That's how it presented itself to me.) They wanted to give me extreme unction, so I watched—I watched, I wanted to see; I thought, "Well, before dismissing them abruptly, let's see what it is...." (I had no idea why they had come, you understand; someone had sent them to give me extreme unction—not that I felt particularly sick! But anyhow that's how it was.) So before dismissing them, I watched carefully to find out if really it had a power of action, if extreme unction had the power to disturb the progress of the soul and tie it down to old religious formations. I watched and I saw how thin and tenuous it was, without force; I saw clearly that it could have some force only if the priest who performed it was a conscious soul and did it consciously, in

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relationship with an inner power or force (vital or other), but that if it was an ordinary man doing his "job" and giving the sacraments with the ordinary belief and nothing more, it was perfectly harmless.

Once I had seen that, suddenly (it was as if on a screen) the whole story vanished and it was over. It had come only to make me see it, that's all. But it presented itself in that way in order to make me watch intently, seriously, not as a mental consideration: a vision and an experience.

Immediately afterwards, I had a visit from the Pope! The Pope [Paul VI] had come to Pondicherry (he does intend to visit India), he had come to Pondicherry and asked to see me (quite impossible things materially, of course, but they were perfectly simple and straightforward). So I saw him. He came, we met each other over there (in the music room), and we actually did speak to each other. I really felt the man in front of me (gesture of feeling), felt what he was. And he was very worried at the thought of what I was going to say to people about his visit: the revelation I would give of his visit. I saw that, but I didn't say anything. Finally he said (we were speaking in French, he had an Italian accent; but all this, you see, doesn't correspond to any thought: it's like pictures in a film), he said, "What will you tell people about my visit?" So I looked at him (inner contacts are more concrete than pictures or words) and I simply answered him, after staring at him intently, "I will tell them that we have been in communion in our love for the Lord...." And there was in it the warmth of a golden light—extraordinary! Then I saw something relax in him, as if an anxiety were leaving him, and he left like that, in a great concentration.

Why did that come? I don't know.

And one, two, ten, fifty experiences like that—those two struck me. The first, because the NEXT DAY Pavitra told me a gentleman had written to ask me the question I told you: he had been very ill, he was in bed, anyway at death's door, and he had written to ask that question.

Curious, isn't it?

It's not a mental contact that lets you know he has written and so on; no, it was the experience—it always takes the form of an experience, an ACTION: something that has to be done and gets done, or that has to be known and becomes known. It is never the mental transcription of ordinary life.

The Pope... I wonder why: what happened? What does it mean? Why did it happen? But I still see the scene; it was a very

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living reality: he was tall, in the room over there (the music room), and there was a somewhat gloomy atmosphere around him, with a kind of worry. But the inner contact was very strong, very strong, very intense, and it went beyond the man—beyond the man, beyond the physical "Supreme Pontiff"—quite beyond. It touched something. Yet I had never thought of him, of course, nothing.

And all this happens IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY, not while I am sleeping. All at once, you know... This story happened to me when I had just had my bath! You understand, it's completely unconnected.... All at once something comes, takes hold of me, and then there's a sort of life in which I live, until something is done—some action—and when that action is done, everything goes away. And it goes away without leaving any traces, as if... (Mother pulls away a screen abruptly).

I am giving these two examples because they are recent and a little unexpected (or at least, they didn't correspond to my occupations or preoccupations), but they come in hundreds! Every day thirty, forty of them will come and take hold of me, and then, all at once, I'll go into a concentration, I'll LIVE a certain thing, until I have seen—seen, known through the vision—something that had to be seen, and as soon as it is seen, pfft! gone away, finished. It loses its interest, it's gone.

I'll go into a sort of concentration for a time during which I am completely isolated, absorbed; then when it's over, hup! it goes away abruptly (gesture of pulling a curtain).

And it doesn't stop me from continuing my activities—I tell you, I was dressing again after my bath! But then all the movements become almost automatic: the consciousness is no longer occupied with its gestures, there is only a delegation of the consciousness to keep watch, that's all.

But all this changes my position—my position vis-à-vis the world is changing. How can I explain it?... It's very strange.

A little later, before Satprem leaves

More and more, there is something that presses to make itself known and is formulated like this: what wants to come for next February¹ is the Truth-Light... (Mother repeats like an incantation)

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the Truth-Light, the Truth-Force, the Truth-Light, the Truth-Force... to prepare the way for the manifestation of supreme Love.

But that is for later on.

But immediate, immediate: the Truth-Light, the Truth-Force. It's becoming precise.

I didn't think about it. It was perfectly blank in my head. I didn't know at all. And then that came.