Starts the terrible years.The change is DONE: a new mode of being of the cellular consciousness has appeared on earth. The future awaits - will the 'old' yield?
The beginning of the terrible years.... There was the feeling that Mother had found the secret of the change, conquered all she could from her own body, and that she was now sitting there, surrounded by the pack, just putting up with each and every resistance of the old species. "The change is DONE. Everything is tooth and nail, ferociously after me, but it's over." A new mode of being of the cellular consciousness had appeared on earth, as one day, in inert matter, there appeared a new mode of being called life - but this time it is "overlife": "The impression there is a way of being of the cells that would be the beginning of a new body; only, when that comes, the body itself feels it is dying." What would be the feeling of the first corpuscle to experience life? "The body feels it has reached the point of.... unknown. A very, very strange sensation. A sort of new vibration. It's so new that.... I can't speak of anguish, but it's.... the unknown. A mystery of the unknown." And there, what we call death is like the other side of the bowl for the former fish, and yet it is not "another world": "They are surprisingly one within the other! There is something there.... Is it possible? For overlife is both life and death together." And then, this cry of the breakthrough: "What appears to us as 'the laws of nature' is nonsense!...." Another world ON EARTH in which the old mortal laws of our bowl break down.... into something else? "I have just had a fantastic vision of the cradle of a future.... which is not very far. It's like a formidable mass suspended above the earth." But will the old pack let her go through to the end?
I found some old papers.
(Satprem reads)
"I am told that you intend to distribute a reproduction of the portrait you did of me. It would be better not to introduce in this gathering anything personal that might suggest the atmosphere of a nascent religion."
It was for Auroville and it was a portrait by Y, did you see it? You saw that portrait?! (Mother laughs)
It was a polite way of telling her. Only, she didn't listen to me, she distributed it.
(Then Mother listens to the English translation of an extract from the "infernal Agenda" of September 9, which Satprem intended to publish in the forthcoming "Notes on the Way." Nolini reads out his translation.)
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It's not interesting.
It's so personal....
(Mother shakes her head and plunges in)
(Mother, in English:) It seems to me too personal to be published.
(Mother plunges in again)
I don't know....
Its gone, it's over.
I would like the two of you [Nolini and Satprem] to be absolutely sincere: is there nothing in you that thought, "No, it can't be published"?
(Satprem:) I didn't have that impression. I had the impression it could be useful. But I think Nolini will be more objective since he wasn't here when you spoke.
(Mother to Nolini, in English:) Tell what you feel absolutely sincerely.
(Nolini:) I have found that it was a little too personal.
(Mother approves:) Too personal.
(Nolini:) Not the whole but part of it. I feel like that.
(silence)
I am afraid it might be an occasion for... it might encourage in people morbid experiences.
(Satprem:) Yes, Mother, that's true.
That's what bothers me. It's better not to. It means encouraging morbid things in people.
Yes, I saw some like that.
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(Then Satprem prepares to read a new chapter of Supermanhood: "The Bifurcation.")
We should get the introduction translated into Hindi. I'll see with R.
Do you know that C. S. [a German translator] is here? Have you seen him?
No, Mother.
Not yet?
No, he is not on very good terms with me.
Oh? Why?
Listen, Mother, for about two years I have worked a lot for him. And every time... I received dozens of letters in which a sort of microscopic mental possession increasingly revealed itself, something very petty, very ugly, always clinging to... I can't say, it's like a mental dwarf in him, full of venom, full of bitterness. There s a point there that isn't pretty. So whenever I tried to send him a little... (what shall I say?) balm to help him, every time he sent me back a letter full of venom. After a year or two, I realised I was only encouraging this sort of reaction. So one day I wrote to him and said, "Now it's in Mothers hands, I can't do anything more for you."
What is it about?
About nothing! He tells me that my book, "The Adventure of Consciousness," is a huge falsehood...
Does he say that?
Yes! He says his whole life has showed him that my book is a falsehood, because he has realized nothing of what I wrote, and it's all false, a falsehood. So in every letter he would return to, "Yes, you say that in Pondicherry, where you are in the light and peace, but as for us over here... Your book is a falsehood!"
Then whatever is he coming here for?!
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I don't know... but he suffers, you understand! He's unhappy, poor man. On the one hand he is pulled by the good side, and on the other by his little gnome. I didn't cut off my relations with him for personal reasons—I don't take offense at all—but because I saw it didn't help him, that's all. Otherwise I have nothing against him—he suffers, poor man.
As for me, I have never spoken to him.
There's a mental deformation. A sort of sourness, you know, a bitterness, a venom.
I haven't found anyone yet to translate into German....
In Auroville?
Or you could ask A., Mother, he knows all the Germans who come here.
A. isn't much of a psychologist. It's better to wait and be sure. Ah, I am listening.
Do I still read you? Aren't you tired?
No, no.... I've noticed this: I no longer know what it is to be tired—even physically.
There has been a tremendous change, but it's not yet... I can't say anything about it.
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