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?
(Mother hands Satprem a letter:)
This is what I sent to Indira. You can read it to me, I don't even remember what I put.
"India shall take her true place in the world only when she will become integrally the messenger of the Divine Life."1
On what occasion was it sent?
She wrote me a very nice letter to express her gratitude, and she asked if I had something to tell her, so that's what I replied.
It seems she speaks in earnest about India's spiritual mission.
She's worried about America. She wants to send people to America to try to create a harmonious atmosphere.
We shall see.
But isn't the danger rather from the Chinese side?
I don't think so.
I have always seen material help coming from the United States—always. But that President,2 who is a brute, stands in the way. There
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won't be a new President until November. Something should be done in the country to block him (because he's a candidate), so that he doesn't get reelected.
He's virtually the favorite.
Over there people don't like him.
Yes, but he has the backing of Big Business.
Yes, quite so.
He MUSTN'T be reelected, and there's no point in seeing him either [Indira's overtures]. He mustn't. It MUST NOT happen.3
The consciousness must support, help, enlighten and strengthen all those who don't want him.
(silence)
And how are things for you?
...What shall I say? Physically it is still difficult, but the body has understood, I think (Mother opens her hands). The body has understood, but there are still some old habits, some semiconscious reactions. That's what pulls. To me, you see, if the body had truly understood, it should become younger—not "younger" but conscious. Instead of founding its base in the subconscient as everybody else, it should found it in the consciousness—it is beginning to do it. It wants to; it wants, it strives. But there are still some... sort of habits. All in all, it's the subconscient that should be transformed.
Almost no spontaneous reactions remain of the kind that come from the subconscient—almost none, but still a few... still far too many.
How was the balcony?4 Where were you?
I didn't come.
Oh, you didn't come.
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No, Mother, I didn't come. Sujata was there.
(Sujata:) It was very good, Mother.
I wasn't too stooped?
No, Mother, you looked better than the last few times.
Ah! It was better.
Yes, Mother, better.
I tried.
You also walked much more, and you stayed for a long time.
Where were you?
As usual, Mother, in my house, downstairs.
Ah, there; yes, I went that side [with inner eyes].
Yes, Mother!
The body is more conscious—the consciousness is penetrating. But....
I have a strong feeling (I mean the body), the body has a strong feeling that if I can last until one hundred it will become younger. Not younger, but... more capable of manifesting the Force. I don't feel weak, but some things still drag.
The subconscient is full of stupid fears, of lack of trust and ill suggestions (although I am not so sure it's the body's fault, I have the feeling that some people—at least one person, I don't know who—are sending catastrophic suggestions5). The body fights all it can to accept only the suggestions from the Divine, but there's still a pull.
Whenever I protest or complain, I am "told" (that's how it comes), I am told that things come to me from here or there... (gesture to every side) for me to act upon them, for That to act upon the world—it has nothing to do with thought, it isn't a thought, this
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(the head) is very silent; it's here (gesture above), and then like this (gesture rising from the bottom to be offered), from the subconscient. And all the work that is being done is not just for this body; the body is doing it for all those who are receptive. In which case I have nothing to say, everything is perfectly all right. If such is the case.... Because (Mother turns her head toward the bathroom door) the body lives in particularly good conditions. It is very well taken care of.
How is it over there?6
I have to get used to it.... I find it very difficult to reconcile the inner consciousness with material life. Material life is a dreadful burden to me: all material things are so heavy, so leaden.... I find it very difficult. I can't seem to reconcile the two.
Oh!... Did you go to the performance of The Gold Washer?7
Yes, Mother.
Was it good?
Hmm... sort of. They did it with a lot of love and—with lots of love. But their interpretation of it was.... I don't know, it seemed a bit sinister.
Sinister?
Yes. I don't know, they showed me an aspect I didn't recognize.
(Mother laughs) Well, well! That's funny.
You see, in that book, I was trying to create light out of pain; and, well, there's only pain in what they staged, not too much light.8 They made it into something very melodramatic, you know.
Oh!...
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Nevertheless, the atmosphere is good, a surprisingly good atmosphere. But strange: something I didn't recognize.
(Mother remains silent, gazing)
Strange. I liked the book very much when I read it, but the only image that remains now is a primeval forest with a huge tree and you struggling to blaze your way through the tree—that's what I see all the time (Mother looks again). Why?... That's it, that's what stayed in the consciousness. I can still see you with an axe, hacking off huge branches to open up a passage. Strange. Is it symbolic? Do you mention that scene in your book?
Not exactly, but I lived something like that9—it's both true and symbolic at the same time.
Strange, when I think of that book, that's the image I see. I also remember... you described the death of your friend?
Yes.
That struck me very much. That and the huge tree. But the tree is larger than life, it's symbolic; and with a big axe you are hacking off branches—huge branches, as big as trees—to open up a passage.
Strange.
Well, I guess I'm still hacking away at branches!
(Mother laughs) Yes, exactly! That's right.
Material life is.... I don't know why, perhaps it comes from past lives, but I find it unbearable.
Oh!... In what way is it unbearable? Do you have particular difficulties?
No, nothing, small difficulties, nothing to speak of, but everything
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is a burden. I can't seem to infuse any consciousness into this material life, you know; there's a sort of gulf between the two. I feel well only when I stop everything and sit. Then everything is fine.
Ahh!
But as soon as I touch material things... it's awful. There's no bridge between the inner life and Matter—none AT ALL, a complete chasm.
(after a silence)
From what Nirod is now reading me from his correspondence with Sri Aurobindo, it seems to have been the same with Sri Aurobindo. From what he writes (you'll see when you read it), everything is always done by me. He says, "Mother says, Mother does, Mother..." I mean, for anything involving the Ashram organization—contact with people and so on—it seems to be done quite naturally and all the time through me.
But what a humor! Oh, you know, I've never read anything so marvelous!... He had such a way of looking at things... it's extraordinary. Extraordinary. But it would seem that the external world was something... absurd to him, you know.
Yes, exactly.
Absurd.
Absurd. Yes. I've reached the point where the only material life I could tolerate would be that of a sannyasin in a hut—and even then, a naked sannyasin, because even clothes are a nuisance!
Ohh!
You see, everything seems dreadfully.... I just can't infuse any consciousness there.
(Mother continues smiling)
Oh, it's so interesting. So interesting. Since childhood, I have always endeavored, as it were, to attain total indifference—nothing
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is annoying, nothing is pleasant. Since childhood, I recall a consciousness striving for... (that's what Sri Aurobindo meant) for indifference. Interesting! It makes me understand why he said that it was I who could attempt the transition between human consciousness and supramental consciousness. He said that. He said it to me and he says it here (it's written among Nirod's things). Now I understand why....
Ah, I understand!
Yes, I understand.
Well?
The farther I go, the worse I feel I'm getting.
Oh, no! Not at all!
But I feel I'm downright awful!
(Mother laughs cheerfully) That, mon petit, may be my.... My body is exactly in that condition! (Laughing) Maybe that's why!
What's more, it feels awful and ridiculous. Ridiculous and awful. It's the first effect of the consciousness of what has to be, it exerts a pressure. Even higher humanity is an awful and ridiculous thing for the overmind (Mother corrects herself), for the supramental ("supramental" is a word I don't like too much; I understand why Sri Aurobindo used it, he didn't want "superman"—it's not superman at all). There is a far greater difference between a supramental being and a human being than between a human being and a chimpanzee.
Oh, yes!
But the difference is not so much external: it's a difference of consciousness. I can sense it, I sense it so vividly, and so close! When I am very still, it comes, from over there, and even the highest and most intellectual human consciousness is ridiculous in comparison.
Awful.
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Yes, Mother. I don't know if I am in contact with "that," but when I remain still I sense something so full, so strong....
Yes, yes, that's it.
I am at ease.
You feel THAT. But then when you leave it to go back into Matter, it's terrible....
(Mother laughs)
Because "that" doesn't permeate here....
It does permeate, but.... To be exact, we can say that it permeates with difficulty, but it does permeate. That's what causes the impression that life is awful. Personally, I feel that life is downright ridiculous—grotesque. Grotesque.
One must be thoroughly convinced of it before one can expect to receive that Consciousness. You know what I would say? It's a good sign—it's not pleasant, but it's a good sign.
But, of course, at best—at the very best—we are transitional beings. And well, transitional beings.... But the consciousness of the inner being ultimately gets stronger, you follow? Stronger even than the consciousness of the material being. So the material being can be dissolved, but the inner consciousness remains stronger. It is of that consciousness that we can say, "This is me."
There you are. THAT is the important thing.
The important thing.
As for me, the purpose of this body is now simply: the Command and the Will of the Lord, so I can do as much groundwork as possible. But it isn't the Goal at all. You see, we don't know, we don't have the slightest knowledge of what the supramental life is. Therefore we don't know if this (Mother pinches the skin of her
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hand) can change enough to adapt or not—and to tell the truth, I am not worried about it, it's not a problem that preoccupies me too much; the problem I am preoccupied with is building that supramental consciousness So IT becomes the being. It's that consciousness which must become the being. That's what's important. As for the rest, we'll see (it's the same as worrying over a change of clothing). But it must truly be IT, you see. And in order to do that, all the consciousness contained in these cells must aggregate, form and organize itself into an independent conscious entity—the consciousness in the cells must aggregate and form into a conscious entity capable of being conscious of Matter as well as conscious of the Supramental. That's the thing. That's what is being done. How far will we be able to go? I don't know.
You understand?
Yes, Mother, I understand very well.
How far we'll go, I don't know. I feel that if I last up to my hundredth birthday, that is, another six years, much will be accomplished—much. Something significant and decisive will be accomplished. I am not saying that the body will be able to get transformed... I have no such signs, but the consciousness—the physical, material consciousness becoming... "supramentalized." That's it, that's the work now in progress. And that's what's important. You too, you must be able, you must be destined to do that also, hence your disgust. But instead of dwelling on the disgust, you should dwell on the identification with the consciousness you are in when you are sitting still. You follow? That's the important part.
That's the important part.
(Satprem rests his forehead on Mother's lap. Sujata approaches)
I am beginning to understand why Sri Aurobindo always said it was woman (Mother caresses Sujata's cheek with her finger) that could build a bridge between the two. I am beginning to understand. One day, I'll explain. I am beginning to understand. Sri Aurobindo used to say: it is woman that can build a bridge between the old world and the supramental world. Now I understand.
Yes, I understand too.
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Then it's all right. We must have patience.
(Mother presses her index finger against Sujata's chest:)
Will you remember what I said?
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