It's neither life nor death.. BOTH are being changed.. into something still unknown.. dangerous and wonderful. On Nov 17, 1973, she left her body - why?
"Before dying falsehood rises in full swing. Still people understand only the lesson of catastrophe. Will it have to come before they open their eyes?" This is the year of Watergate, of Nixon's first trip to China, the assassination of the Israeli athletes in Munich, the first oil embargo. This is Mother's last lap. A lap strewn with heartrending little cries and stunning visions. The end of one world, the beginning of another.... whether we want it or not. "Sometimes, it is so new and unexpected, it's almost painful." And I would ask her, "But is it a state outside matter?" "I don't go outside of physical life, but.... it looks different. But it is strange. And it is PHYSICAL, that is the extraordinary thing! As if the physical had split in two.... A new state in matter. And it is ruled by something that is not the sun, I don't know what it is.... I am touching another world. Another way of being.... dangerous but wonderful." How I listened to her little breath as she gasped for air, a breath that seemed to come from another side of the world: "There is no difference between life and death. It's neither life nor death, it is.... something. It is not the disappearance of death you understand: BOTH are being changed.... into something still unknown, which seems at once extremely dangerous and absolutely wonderful." And what if "death" were merely the other, MATERIAL side of our human bowl, the sunlit shore for a species to come? A new condition on both sides of the world, in which life and death change into.... something else? "I am treading a very thin and narrow line...." And then this cry, this entreaty: "Let me do the work!" On November 17, 1973, she passed away - why?
(For the last ten days, all the meetings have been spent in contemplation.)
How are you getting on?
It's not easy.
No—it's more than difficult.... I am sorry, I thought I was suffering for everybody—but I see it isn't the case.
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(silence)
What would you like?
I'd like you to keep me.
Yes, but materially? You mean keep you like now?
(Mother takes Satprem's hands and prepares to meditate)
Yes, Mother.
Are you comfortable?
Yes, Mother, very!
You shouldn't have any ache anywhere.
(Mother plunges in for half an hour, then suddenly moans1)
Sometimes, I feel like howling.
What do you feel?
Like a fire melting into your Fire—into what you are.
But what do you feel?
I don't know—the great Power.
Why do I feel like howling?
Well, I wonder if it's not me giving you pain.
No, mon petit! All the time I feel like that—it's not you, not at all.
Something... It isn't really painful, it's just... I think—I think it's something so new that the body is frightened. That's the only
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explanation I see. I start howling, but... it's no use—the only thing to do is stop howling and change.
Something which...
Yes, that must be it: something so new that the body ... doesn't know how to take it.
You don't perceive anything in particular?
No, Mother, what I feel is first that great Flame merging with yours, and then a kind of vast immobility—a powerful immobility.
Ah, that's it! That must be why! Yes, the body must be getting alarmed. Yes, that must be it.
(Mother plunges in, Champaklal rings the bell)
Is it time?... Oh, mon petit....
(Satprem rests his head on Mother's lap)
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