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 looks very pale. She has just seen 175 people.)
What do you have to say?
And you, Mother? Would you say something?
I've just seen over a hundred people.
Yes, you're a bit tired.
Not tired, it's... dazed, you know.
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I am not saying anything.
But if you have something to ask?
You should rest a little, Mother.
I'll rest. But go on and ask me if you have something.
I have a feeling I am not making the right movement inwardly. I'm not going at it the right way.
Ah!... You're too active.
If you could simply.... More and more I feel that unless we do this (Mother opens her hands upwards in a gesture of surrender), and leave it, with an INTENSE faith in the divine Grace,... it's just... impossible.
Like this (same gesture).
(Mother plunges in then opens her eyes wide and looks at Satprem. The contemplation goes on, eyes open, unblinking.)
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