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?
The whole subconscient is ... (gesture of something rising up from below).
(silence)
And then... how can I put this?... It isn't sensation or knowledge, it's a kind of... (Mother feels the air between her fingers), you can't even say conviction: it's a certitude—a certitude in the perception—that Bliss is there... right there, WAITING FOR us, but a whole world of contradictions that have been repressed in the subconscient keeps rising up from the subconscient to prevent us from feeling it. So... you could say it's a battlefield, but in a perfect calm.
It's impossible to describe.
Impossible to describe.
When I remain still and enter that Consciousness, time flies with fantastic speed, in a kind of... luminous calm. But the slightest thing that pulls me out of it seems to pull me into hell. Exactly.
The discomfort is so great one feels one couldn't last a minute or a few minutes like that. So one... one calls the Divine.... You feel like curling up in the Divine.
And then it goes well.
(Mother plunges in but after a while she seems ill at ease)
Home
The Mother
Books
Agenda
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.