Others too had to understand Her secret - her own disciples, Nations. Will she be heard? Will she be allowed to pursue her experience? '... The body knows that the work will go on and on and on...'
The last turning point of Mother's yoga, and she comes out of it with this cry: "I have walked a long, long time. There was nothing but a constant cry, as if everything were torn away from me. It was the whole problem of the world." And this Agenda is more and more strewn with heartrending little cries. It was not enough to have found the secret for herself, the others too had to understand, her own disciples, Nations locked in their egoistic power: "They have no faith! 'She is old, she is old', an atmosphere of resistance to the change; 'it is impossible, impossible' from all sides.... Not a single minute should be wasted - I am in a hurry.... The reign of the Divine must, oh, must come!.... If the entire Russian block were to turn to the right side, that would be an enormous support! The victory is certain, but I don't know which path will be followed to reach it.... We must cling, cling so tightly to Truth.... They don't listen to me any more." She is 93, groping her way into the unknown: "I see more clearly with eyes closed than with eyes open, and it is a physical vision, purely physical, but a kind of physical that seems more complete. The consciousness of the cells is what has to change, all the rest will follow naturally! I have the feeling I am on my way to discovering the illusion that must be destroyed so that physical life may go on uninterrupted - death is the result of a distortion of consciousness." Will she be heard? Will she be allowed to pursue her experience? "Only a violent death could halt the transformation; otherwise the body knows that the work will go on and on and on...." And this cry again: "There will be a miracle! But what, I don't know."
Everyone is quarreling! Everyone, everywhere. Squabbles, squabbles, squabbles—all the time, night and day, constantly.
At night too!
Yes! (laughter)
And at the same time there is the solution: an im-per-turb-able calm. It's as if it wanted to teach the body a lesson. But ridiculous squabbles, you know, everyone, absolutely everyone. Some accusing others—they accuse each other—and everyone telling lies! Everything is twisted. Everything is twisted, nothing is clear. I
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have never (my God, I've been here a long time), I have never seen that to such a degree, with such a terrible restlessness. And my body is aware that if it loses the inner calm for one minute, it will fall very sick. It's just like this (gesture suspended on a crest), as though it were about to tip over into a pit.
It's disgusting.
Only one solution (Mother spreads her arms)—an imperturbable calm.
It's a concrete calm. Curious. It's concrete. It's as if you could touch it (Mother presses the palms of her hands on an invisible rock).... It's curious.
(Mother goes into the Calm for a half hour while holding Satprem's hands)
Do you feel how concrete it is?
Yes, yes, it's massive.
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