The Mother

Agenda

Volume 3

September 5, 1962

(Before reading his manuscript on Sri Aurobindo to Mother, Satprem asks her to correct any inaccuracies in the text, since he doesn't have the direct experience of everything he speaks of.)

I don't have the experience of some of these things.

Neither do I; I don't have every experience.

Oh, come on now....

(Laughing) I've had a number of them, but....

In principle, after a few thousand births, one should have every possible experience, provided one goes to the trouble of remembering. That would be the advantage of reincarnation; you can't do everything in one lifetime, but with a few thousand lives, it's possible to pass through all the states.

One should be able to remember.

Naturally, at the beginning you remember very, very little. As you advance, you remember more – I am referring to the experience of the psychic being.

Of course, I am not speaking of what the universal Mother can know, that's quite another category! I am speaking of the experience of the psychic being, the purely terrestrial experience. Well, very few things seem... in fact, none of them seem alien or unknown to me. The human state of mind, ah yes! Since my early childhood, I have been flabbergasted by the way people think and feel – it seemed monstrous. But as for the circumstances and events of life, that's all more or less old hat.

The experiences that left the most acute impressions on me (Mother makes a poignant gesture) – you know, the kind of things that make you say, “Oh, no, not that again, I've had enough!” – are connected with my lives as a monarch: empress, queen and the like... oh! Those are painful impressions, the most painful of all. And I have a keen memory of a resolution taken in my last life as an empress: “Never again!” I said. “I've had enough, I want no more of it! I'd rather be”... not even “I'd rather be,” I chose deliberately: “I WANT to be an obscure being in an obscure family, free at last to do what I want!” And that's the first thing I remembered this time: “Yes, it's an obscure family, an obscure being in an obscure milieu, so I may be free to do what I want; there isn't a horde of people watching me and spying on everything I do and plaguing me with rules about what I ought to be doing.”

It didn't last long! (Mother laughs.)

Meaning you never escape your destiny! Although it's not official here, there's still a wide margin of freedom.

That's the first thing I told Sri Aurobindo: “This was the resolution made by my psychic being” (my psychic being was in a certain person – I know who). “And when I left, it declared categorically: 'I want NO MORE of this!'”

The rest doesn't matter much to me, it didn't leave such an... acute impression.

Anyway, read me your text now. Perhaps I'll be able to know if it's true or not!

But when you get right down to it, everything is true – provided everything else is accepted at the same time.

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(Satprem reads a passage from his manuscript in which he speaks of illnesses, including “yogic illnesses,” that can result from some inner discrepancy when the various parts of the consciousness are unevenly developed.)

These illnesses are not of the same nature as the others, because GENERALLY (I am not making any absolute rule), generally their origin is not found to be viruses or bacteria, but a kind of disorder... what is it called? They have a splendid word for it now.... You know, an incapacity to bear something, a lack of harmony....

Allergy?

That's it. And then illnesses related to colloidal disorders (blood, for example, is a colloidal fluid): when the component elements cease to combine in the normal and natural way. Both are newly recognized causes of illness. And they usually (I don't say in every case) result from what is called an “inner discrepancy”; that is, when the different parts of the being have not reached the same level of development, things of that nature may crop up.

With very few exceptions, these illnesses are not found to originate from germs, microbes or bacteria. They are frequently classified as “mental illnesses,” “nervous disorders,” etc., and they result from that inner discrepancy.

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Then Satprem reads a passage relating to the “subtle physical” and exteriorization; among other things, he cites the experience of D., who, when he exteriorized for the first time, was unable to get back into his body because he tried to reenter through the legs! Here is the story:

“I was lying on my chaise longue in concentration when all at once I found myself in my friend Z's house. He and several others were playing music. I could see everything very clearly, even more clearly than in the physical, and I moved around very quickly, unimpeded. I stayed there watching for a while, and even tried to attract their attention, but they were unaware of me. Then suddenly something pulled me, a sort of instinct: 'I must go back.' I felt pain in my throat. I remember that to get out of their room, which was all closed except for one small opening high up, my form seemed to vaporize (because I still had a form, though unlike our material one – more luminous, less opaque), and I went out like smoke through the open window. Then I found myself back in my room, next to my body, and I saw that my head was twisted and rigid against the cushion, and I was having trouble breathing. I wanted to get into my body: impossible. So I became afraid. I entered through the legs, and when I reached the knees I seemed to bounce back out; two, three times like that: the consciousness rose and then bounced back out like a spring. 'If I could only tip over this stool,' I thought (there was a small stool under my feet), 'the noise would wake me up!' But nothing doing. And I was breathing more and more heavily. I was terribly afraid. Suddenly I remembered Mother and cried out, 'Mother! Mother!' and found myself back in my body, awake, with a stiff neck.”

(Mother laughs and laughs.)

D. himself told me this story.

D., oh, what a dolt! He doesn't know where to reenter! But he never said a word about that to me – I would have told him!

You must go out through here [the heart] – you can go out through the top of the head, but it's more difficult. You must leave through the heart and return the same way. It's quite natural; it's the first thing you learn when you want to exteriorize. The whole consciousness has to be concentrated here [the heart], and that's where you go out. And you must reenter the same way and maintain the link.

It's interesting though, very interesting.

No, he never told me that.... Trying to reenter through the feet!...

Some people try to do it through the head: that's a little difficult. It's a little difficult and you have to know how. But through the heart it's completely natural.

Well, well!... This story of yours is interesting.

Yes, and it will help people understand the process.

Yes, it's really funny.

I've never managed to consciously leave my body.

It's a gift.

Sometimes I seem to have vibrations going out through the top of my head.

That's something else.

What is it? Sometimes I feel a pulling: something vibrating intensely that seems to be pulling me out through the top of the head.

It's the opening to the higher mind.

It's more like part of the kundalini method. It's not an exteriorization, but the mental opening to higher realms.

Sometimes it happens just when I'm falling asleep.

That's how you make contact. It is indispensable.

But that results from yoga. It may be developed over lifetimes, or it may be accomplished in one lifetime, if one is ready for it. To tell the truth, it is the important part: to get through that lid at the top of the skull which keeps you shut in; there's a kind of cover there you have to get rid of. If you can do it, it's the sure sign that the time is ripe and you are ready for yoga – “yoga,” I mean Sri Aurobindo's yoga.

The other things, exteriorization and so forth, are innate, just as some people are born artists or painters or aviators. It's one of Nature's special combinations. I've known some downright stupid girls who could exteriorize remarkably well and be fully conscious of their experiences in the subtle physical or the mind or the material vital (when one is undeveloped it's more often in the material vital than the subtle physical). And they would tell you all about what they saw. But incapable of yoga.

Nature's fancies, I tell you.

Too bad she has no such fancies for me!

It's not indispensable for the yoga.

Obviously, but all the same....

But it does carry a lot of weight with materialists, for it confronts them with something that looks “supernatural.”

Yes, that's mainly what makes it interesting: it shows them that consciousness can exist outside the body.

That's it. But it's not at all indispensable for one's development.

No. But I'd still like....

It would amuse you!

Well, yes! It wouldn't just amuse me – I'd get the feeling that my consciousness was developing

Not necessarily.

If you aren't open up there [above the head], you don't benefit from it. Those girls I mentioned (I've known three like that; not just one: three), well, they weren't making progress. They weren't making progress. Perhaps they could see better and better, but they weren't making an inch of inner progress.

But personally, for example, why is it I never have any experiences?

No! It's not true you don't have experiences. It's not true. I know it's not true, you do have experiences – I can see them.

But I can't!

You just don't remember.

I have already told you the reason (there are many reasons): one tiny undeveloped level in the being is enough. It obviously has to do with atavism, with the way the body was built, the milieu one was born in, one's education, the life one has led. But it's mainly how much one has been drawn to higher things. It is clear that your energies have been far more concentrated on breaking through that lid and touching the Source of Truth than on having mediumistic experiences – far more. And for what you have come to do, that was INFINITELY more important. Minor experiences such as exteriorizing and the like are just diversions along the way – that's how I have always seen them.

Yes, Mother, that's all right. But there's no outer encouragement. I have the feeling that nothing is happening – I wake up each morning and there's nothing. I meditate, there's nothing – there's never anything! Just the certainty that it's the only thing worth doing.

But don't you see, mon petit: the unwavering Light above you ... (Mother gazes above Satprem's head). Thousands of people would give anything for that!

The truth is, we are never satisfied with what we have...

But nothing is happening!

... and we always want what we don't have. Because we are made for an integral perfection, and until it becomes integral, we won't be satisfied.

It may comfort you to know that it will come to you – in its own time.

It will come – really?

Yes, oh, yes! It may come to you all of a sudden one day.

I feel that nothing's happening, that's the discouraging thing.

Of course! I too went through a very long period when I believed nothing was happening.

I never had an experience for the joy of it – never. They came only when it was necessary. Nothing ever happened in my life that wasn't absolutely indispensable for my work. But to know this, you understand, you must know exactly what your work is and be conscious of the divine Will; and many years may go by before you reach that point.

I remember that one of the first things I asked Sri Aurobindo when I came here, after innumerable experiences and innumerable realizations, was, “Why am I so mediocre?... Everything I do is mediocre, all my realizations are mediocre, there's never anything remarkable or exceptional – it's just average. It isn't low, but it's not high either – everything is average.” And that's really how I felt. I painted: it wasn't bad painting, but many others could do as well. I played music: it wasn't bad music, but you couldn't say, “Oh, what a musical genius!” I wrote: it was perfectly ordinary. My thoughts slightly excelled those of my friends, but nothing exceptional; I had no special gift for philosophy or whatever. Everything I did was like that: my body had its skills, but nothing fantastic; I wasn't ugly, I wasn't beautiful... you see, everything was mediocre, mediocre, mediocre, mediocre. Then he told me, “It was indispensable.”

All right, so I kept quiet – and very quickly, within a few weeks, I understood.

But I had that feeling throughout my childhood. I was a good student, but no genius.... And so on.

Ever since I was very young, I have always thirsted for the same thing: I have always wanted to be conscious. So what makes me furious is that I am not conscious – it infuriates me.

For a long, long time, that was also the one thing I felt was worth living for – Consciousness. When I met Théon and came to understand the mechanism, I also understood why I wasn't conscious at a certain level. I think I've told you how I spent ten months one year working to connect two layers – two layers of consciousness; the contact wasn't established and so I couldn't have the spontaneous experience of a whole spectrum of things. Madame Théon told me, “It's because there's an undeveloped layer between this part and that part.” I was very conscious of all the gradations: Théon had explained it all in the simplest terms, so you didn't need to be, as I said, a genius to understand. He had made a quadruple division, and each of them was divided into four, and then again into four, making innumerable divisions of the being; but with that mental simplification you could make in-depth psychological studies of your own being. And so by observation and elimination I eventually discovered that between this and that (gesture indicating two levels of Mother's consciousness), there was an undeveloped layer – it wasn't conscious. So I worked for ten months on nothing but that: absolutely no results. I didn't care, I kept right on, telling myself, “Well, it may take me fifty years to get anywhere, who knows.” And then I left for the country (I was living in Paris at the time). I lay down on the grass, and all at once, with the contact of earth and grass, poof! There was a sort of inner explosion – the link was established, and full consciousness came, along with all the ensuing experiences. “Well,” I said to myself, “it was worth all the trouble!”

And I am sure that's how the work is done, slowly, imperceptibly, like a chick being formed in the egg: you see the shell, you see only the shell, you don't know what's inside, whether it's just an egg or a chick (normally, I mean – of course, you could see through with special instruments) and then the beak goes peck-peck! And then cheep! Out comes the chick, just like that. It's the same thing exactly for the contact with the psychic being. For months on end, sometimes years, you may be sitting before a closed door, push, push, pushing, and feeling, feeling the pressure (it hurts!), and there's nothing, no results. Then all at once, you don't know why or how, you sit down and poof! Everything bursts wide open, everything is ready, everything is done – it's over, you emerge into a full psychic consciousness and become intimate with your psychic being. Then everything changes – everything changes – your life completely changes, it's a total reversal of your whole existence.

In the end, it's best not to worry, not to get agitated or depressed (that's the worst of all), not to get worked up or impatient or disgusted – just be calm and say, “It will come when it comes,” but with an unyielding stubbornness. Do what you feel has to be done, and keep on with it, keep on even if it seems utterly futile.

But if I only had a method!

There are methods – books are full of them. I don't recommend any of them: it's always the method the author uses or has heard of. Everyone has to find his own method.

One can get certain hints, one can find one's own method.

But one has to.... Look, it's the same as for japa. Your japa is given to you, isn't it? You receive it (unless you find it on your own, but that's harder and already requires another level of realization); you receive your japa along with the power to do it – but you have to learn how to do it, right? For a long while you don't fully succeed; all sorts of things happen – you forget it right in the middle or fall asleep or grow tired, get a headache, all sorts of things; or even outer circumstances interfere and disturb you. Well, here it's the same: you tell yourself, “I'll do it,” and you will do it, even if.... You have to go at it just like a mule: everything blocks the way but you keep going. You said you'd do it and you will do it. There are no results – I don't care. Everything is against me – I don't care. I said I'd do it and I will... I said I'd do it and I will. And you keep on going like that.

It's the same thing in your case. It depends on what you want to achieve. Simply what I told you about sleep or resting, for example, ought to be enough. On that, you base your own discipline – or on words that were uttered, or gestures that were made, or ideas you've received. You establish your own discipline. And once you have chosen your discipline, you keep on with it.

That's my experience.

Stubbornly. You have to be stubborn – stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. You're up against all the resistance of unconsciousness and ignorance, up against all the power of unconsciousness and ignorance – something obstinate and unyielding. But it's like the story of the drop of water on the rock: a matter of time. The water will eventually wear its way through the rock. It takes ages, but it will succeed, for it falls persistently, drop after drop. First it runs off, eventually it makes a hole, and you have a wide river flowing below. Nature gives us this wonderful example to follow. That's it: we must be like the water dripping on the rock.

Water is vital energy. The rock is unconsciousness.

There you are, mon petit.

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(Just before leaving, Mother makes a remark about someone, and as Satprem doesn't seem to believe his ears – he didn't want to believe in such ugliness and didn't even note it down – Mother adds:)

...Because you're still not in the realm where I go! It is elsewhere. Not higher, not deeper within: elsewhere. Another way of seeing.¹

¹ This “elsewhere” which is neither “higher” nor “deeper within” seems to correspond to the displacement along a LEVEL path Mother was speaking of: the other Matter. (See conversation of July 14, 1962.)

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