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?
(Long silence, Mother shakes her head several times as if at a loss, she tries to speak and plunges in again.)
The same identical circumstances, occurring at the same time, can cause a marvelous bliss—marvelous, as I have never felt before—or sheer hell. The very same circumstances, and at the same time.
For hours on end it's enough to drive you mad, and for a few... (maybe hours, maybe minutes—the sense of time isn't the same, but anyway...) a wonder. A wonderful Presence.
It doesn't really depend on circumstances: the circumstances are always the same, and yet....
And in this new consciousness, time has a completely different value: I feel I have spent a few minutes, and I am told it's been almost an hour. That's how it is.
(silence)
So it's as you want. If you want to meditate....
Personally, I have a strange impression. In the past, years ago, I used to feel that a part of my consciousness was vast, was... this or that; but now I understand fully well what you mean by an "old piece of bark" (you know, "There's only an old piece of bark left"), I feel I am only a mass of flaws, of imperfections, of dark elements and so on, but the other part of myself completely eludes me. There is only this sort of facade full of unpleasant and clashing and false things. While the other part, the other "me"... I don't know, it eludes me completely. I know it's there, but I am mainly conscious of all this that's in front of me.
(Mother plunges in)
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