Mother’s Agenda 1966

June 2, 1966

Is the difficulty of the other day over?

Oh, I've had an experience, a new experience. I mean, it's the cells of the body that have had a new experience.

When I lie down on my bed at night, there is an offering of all the cells, which regularly surrender as completely as they can, with an aspiration not only for union but for fusion: let there remain nothing but the Divine. It's regular, every day, every single day. And for some time, these cells or this body consciousness (but it isn't organized as a consciousness: it's like a collective consciousness of the cells), it seemed to be complaining a little, to be saying, "But we don't feel much. We do feel" (they can't say they don't feel: they feel protected, supported), "but still..." They are like children, they were complaining that it wasn't spectacular: "It HAS to be marvelous." (Mother laughs) Ah, very well, then! So two nights ago, they were in that state when I went to bed. I didn't move from the bed till about two in the morning. At two in the morning I got up, and I suddenly noticed that all the cells, the whole body (but it really is a cellular consciousness, not a body consciousness; it isn't the consciousness of this or that person: there's no person, it's the consciousness of a cellular aggregate), that consciousness felt bathed in and at the same time shot through by a MATERIAL power of a fan-tas-tic velocity bearing no relation to the velocity of light, none at all: the velocity of light is something slow and unhurried in comparison. Fantastic, fantastic! Something that must be like the movement of the centers out there... (Mother gestures towards faraway galactic space). It was so awesome! I remained quite peaceful, still, I sat quite peaceful; but still, peaceful as I could be, it was so awesome, as when you are carried away by a movement and are going so fast that you can't breathe. A sort of discomfort. Not that I couldn't breathe, that wasn't the point, but the cells felt suffocated, it was so... awesome. And at the same time with a sensation of power, a power that nothing, nothing whatsoever can resist in any way. So I had been pulled out of my bed (I noticed it) so that the BODY consciousness (mark the difference: it wasn't the cells' consciousness, it was the body's consciousness) would teach the cells how to surrender and tell them, "There is only one way: a total surrender, then you will

Page 125

no longer have that sensation of suffocation." And there was a slight concentration, like a little lesson. It was very interesting: a little lesson, how it should be done, what should be done, how to abandon oneself entirely. And when I saw it had been understood, I went back to bed. And then, from that time (it was two, two: twenty) till quarter to five, I was in that Movement without a single break! And the peculiar thing was that when I got up, there was in that consciousness (which is both cellular and a bit corporeal) the sense of Ananda [divine joy] in everything the body did: getting up, walking, washing its eyes, brushing its teeth.... For the first time in my life I felt the Ananda (a quite impersonal Ananda), an Ananda in those movements. And with the feeling, "Ah, that's how the Lord enjoys Himself."

It's no longer in the foreground (it was in the foreground for an hour or two to make me understand), now it's a bit further in the background. But, you understand, previously the body used to feel that its whole existence was based on the Will, the surrender to the supreme Will, and endurance. If it was asked, "Do you find life pleasant?", it didn't dare to say no, because... but it didn't find it pleasant. Life wasn't for its own pleasure and it didn't understand how it could give pleasure. There was a concentration of will in a surrender striving to be as perfect—painstakingly perfect—as possible, and a sense of endurance: holding on and holding out. That was the basis of its existence. Then, when there were transitional periods... which are always difficult, like, for instance, switching from one habit to another, not in the sense of changing habits but of switching from one support to another, from one impulsion to another (what I call the "transfer of power"), it's always difficult, it occurs periodically (not regularly but periodically) and always when the body has gathered enough energy for its endurance to be more complete; then the new transition comes, and it's difficult. There was that will and that endurance, and also, "Let Your Will be done," and "Let me serve You as You want me to, as I should serve You, let me belong to You as You want me to," and also, "Let there remain nothing but You, let the sense of the person disappear" (it had indeed disappeared to a considerable extent). And there was this sudden revelation: instead of that base of endurance—holding on at any cost—instead of that, a sort of joy, a very peaceful but very smiling joy, very smiling, very sweet, very smiling, very charming—charming! So innocent, something so pure and so lovely: the joy which is in all things, in everything we do, everything, absolutely everything. I was shown

Page 126

last night: everything, but everything, there isn't one vibration that isn't a vibration of joy.

That's the first time.

So then, the result... (laughing) is that the body is a little better! It no longer feels that tension so much. But it has been advised to be very peaceful, very peaceful, above all no excitement, no "joy" as one usually has it (the vital joy that is aware of itself and expresses itself), not that, nothing of all that: very peaceful, very peaceful. It's something so pure, oh!... So translucent, transparent, light....

It's the first time I have felt this physically. Meaning it's the first time these cells have had this experience.

You see, previously, they always felt the Lord's support in the power and the force, they felt they existed because of Him, they existed through Him, they existed in Him; they used to feel all that. But to be capable of feeling it, they had to have endurance—absolute endurance—to endure everything. Now it's not that; it's not that, there is something that smiles, but smiles so sweetly, so sweetly, and is, oh, extraordinarily amused, behind it all, and it's light, light, so light—all the weight of that tension has disappeared.

And it's the result of that awesome "flow": a flow that carried the cells along; it wasn't that the cells were immobile and it was flowing through them: they were IN the movement, they were moving with that same velocity—a fantastic velocity with a dazzling luminosity and unimaginable speed, felt materially, like that. It was beyond all possibility of ordinary sensation. It lasted for hours.

Soon afterwards:

Have you heard of dolphins' speech?... Haven't you seen those articles?... They have discovered that dolphins speak an articulate speech, but with a much more extensive range than ours: it rises much higher and goes much lower. And it's far more varied. And they frequently talk (it seems it can be recorded), they talk but people don't understand what they say. And then, they were given our speech to listen to—they imitate it and make fun of it! They laugh! (Mother looks very amused)

I saw some photos, they look nice, but the photos aren't enough. They have, as porpoises do, rows of small teeth (it seems they aren't ferocious at all, they never fly into a fury). They talk and talk!

Page 127

And they know how to listen. And then, they imitate and laugh, as if they found us extremely ridiculous.

It's amusing.

It seems they have made kinds of large swimming pools somewhere in North America in which they are kept, and that they appear quite happy. So they are doing studies on them: there's an American scientist looking after all that, and someone told him (I read this yesterday), "You say they may be as intelligent as we are, but if they were they would have tried to make themselves understood and to understand us." The other fellow replied (Mother laughs) that perhaps it was wisdom, because they would have discovered that we are very silly!

It's amusing.

I have also heard that other scientists have discovered "immediate transmission," which doesn't follow the slow curve of wave transmissions or even of more ethereal transmissions, through what they call (I think) a sort of "pendulum" or counterweight, so that what is done here is automatically reproduced there; if it goes down here, it goes up there, and if it goes down there, it goes up here, automatically. It's imitation (because they can't understand what it is), but it's intuitive communication, of course. It seems they have an instrument to measure it—it's fantastic!

They'll end up having everything except the key.

Yes, that's right! Yes, but it's good to have everything, because as soon as the key is there, the whole thing will be done.

Maybe it's the necessary preparation for the new creation. So only the key, as you said, will be missing. Then comes the key: pfft! now the whole thing is done.

But at any rate, it seems (I had already been told this), it seems it has somewhat deflated their mental arrogance... (laughing) they no longer think they are the superior beings of the creation!

Ah, let's work on Savitri a little... (Mother reads the first line):

A few shall see what none yet understands

(I.IV.55)

There, you see!

(A little later, Mother looks at her appointment notebook cluttered with endless lists.)

Page 128

...But anyway, there is good reason to believe that the Lord is enjoying Himself. He must be enjoying Himself a lot, otherwise He wouldn't make me see all those people. He must find it greatly amusing—but I think everything amuses Him, even what we don't find amusing because we are too small.

Fatigue is a great sign of weakness; when something tires you or bores you, it's really a sign of weakness. It doesn't happen to me very often anymore; I don't even think it happens at all: there's just, somewhere in the mental consciousness (and it doesn't come from me, it comes from others, rather), a suggestion that "it's really a bit too much." Otherwise...

What about your book? How is it going?

Last night again—very often, almost every night, I spend a while in the night in the state of consciousness of your book: the manner of seeing, feeling and saying (Mother draws a strip in midair representing the book's "region"), like that. So now and then, I make a suggestion, but not with words: I seem to introduce into it another way of seeing and feeling: "Why not this way?" It has happened several times. But when I wake up I don't remember the details because there are too many things. But it's a place where the book is taking shape, so I enter that place and seem to bring currents of air into it! (Mother laughs) I make proposals. It happens very often. I think it regularly happens every night, but I remember only when I think it necessary.