Mother’s Agenda 1967

November 8, 1967

(Mother begins by reading out the message for All India Radio [in English] that she intends to broadcast for February 21, 1968, on the occasion of her ninetieth birthday.)

"It is not the number of years you have lived that makes you old. You become old when you stop progressing. As soon as you feel you have done what you had to do, as soon as you think you know what you ought to know, as soon as you want to sit and enjoy the results of your effort, with the feeling you have worked enough in life, then at once you become old and begin to decline. When, on the contrary, you are convinced that what you know is nothing compared to all that remains to be known, when you feel that what you have done is just the starting point of what remains to be done, when you see the future like an attractive sun shining with innumerable possibilities yet to be achieved, then you are young, howsoever many are the years you have passed upon earth, young and rich with all the realisations of tomorrow. And if you do not want your body to fail you, avoid wasting your energies in useless agitation. Whatever you do, do it in a quiet and composed poise. In peace and silence is the greatest strength."

There.

We spent a long part of the night together, from about eleven till ... oh, a long time, till three in the morning, working together—working and moving about. Those are places—kinds of houses, landscapes—very well known places where I go periodically, in an atmosphere which is specific to them and for a specific work. There are mountains, there are roads going down, there are ... And it's always the

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same thing: it's a place that exists permanently; but what happens there is different each time (as in life). And the approach is different: sometimes I go there on foot, sometimes in a car, and sometimes I have very peculiar means of transport! I don't always meet the same people there, and I don't always do the same work, but the quality of the atmosphere (Mother feels the air with her fingers) remains always the same. It's a certain place of organization—of power of organization.

But I have known that place and have been going there for years and years. And last night, I spent... oh, certainly a good three hours there—three hours of our time here (I don't know how long that was over there).

I met you, spoke to you, explained things to you, and we did things together: all the precise, meticulous details were there.... When I wake up, if I remained perfectly still I would remember, but otherwise I only retain an impression, also a few images which come like that (scattered gesture, as if Mother touched various points of a scene, which are the hits of images that remain), and the impression or memory of the kind of work. And then ... It's a place which is clearly related to the construction of the future on earth.

But I came out of there with a great satisfaction, noting that things were going much better.... One could see, you understand: the future was clearer.

Generally, I don't remain there as long as that—it must have been a decisive moment.

(Mother goes on to several tasks, and remarks in passing:)

Ah, yesterday I saw ex-Brother A. He came to see me (he had asked, so I called him). He came in, gave me a bunch of flowers, sat down on the floor and looked at me; we looked at each other for at least five minutes. Then I smiled, and he made a big "pranam," then got up and went away. I found him very receptive, very receptive and very sincere in his aspiration to find himself, to find his soul. Very fine and concentrated, very fine. I was quite satisfied. Anyhow he behaved very well. It was very peaceful and receptive.

Then at one point, I smiled like that (I don't know why), and he got up and left. It was good.

He is sincere, he doesn't come with an intention at the back of his mind—not at all like that other one (Mrs. Z).

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(silence)

Then the 11th is M.'s birthday. She was born on the eleventh of the eleventh month of 1911—eleven is the number of progress. Spiritually, she may not be very interested, but materially she is a woman who really likes and wants to do things well; what she does she likes to do well.

(At the end of the conversation, Mother returns to the experience she narrated at the beginning:)

Last night it was very good—you are very conscious, very conscious.

!!!

It's a connection that's missing (Mother shows a thin layer between her thumb and her index finger). Even for me, you know, when I come back a whole world is erased. It's there: if I made an effort it would come back, but it takes time, it's difficult and one must be very quiet, not busy. But that world is very close to ours, very active here, and that's why: up above, it's much easier to remember the things that are right up above, but what is near like that is difficult.

I must go there almost every day, probably, but in passing; whereas last night it was remarkable. And you were there perfectly at ease, I mean it was ... you were there as if it were something customary—besides, I see you there very often. But yesterday it was very lengthy: all kinds of explanations, demonstrations, organizations, and there are places there from which one sees, one sees the world from above. It's very close to the earth.

You know, a layer as thin as a sheet of paper, something undeveloped suffices to make the consciousness forget when it goes from here to there (gesture between the two). At that point, it forgets.

But the effects, the results, are there—one has them: it comes out from within. It's not that one is cut off, it's only the active consciousness, the active remembrance that's not there.

There, goodbye, mon petit.

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