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The Mother


Volume 7

June 11, 1966

(The conversation begins with the book Satprem is writing, which Mother “dictates” at night, but which Satprem has difficulty receiving.)

Mon petit, I keep on writing! It's incredible! It has never happened to me.

Fantastic things...

But is it coming along?

Not much, not fast at all.

Do you write in sequence or did you begin with the end?

No, no, I always write in sequence.... It's not coming easily, it's not coming smoothly at all. I wonder where the blockage is.

It's because when one starts writing, one enters the mental atmosphere, the human mental atmosphere. And the passage is almost imperceptible, there's such a habit of thinking, of expressing oneself, of feeling within a human mental atmosphere... which is nevertheless, in comparison with the human individual, something very vast, very complex, very supple (and those who move about in it already have the sense of a higher intelligence, an exceptional understanding and so on), but from the standpoint of the Truth, it's so artificial and CONVENTIONAL! It's a very durable convention, which undergoes slight changes, alterations according to the times, the ages, but which has some sort of permanence. I feel it as... (Mother makes a circular gesture around her head) a globe one is inside, luminous but so artificial!

This morning, I had, for instance, a whole series of experiences regarding the notion of selfishness. I remember that the first time someone said to Sri Aurobindo in my presence (many years ago) about someone else, “Oh, he is selfish,” Sri Aurobindo smiled and answered, “Selfish? But the most selfish of all is the Divine, since everything belongs to Him and He sees everything in relation to Himself!” I found it rather daring! And this morning (strangely, just this morning; it's not the first time, either), I suddenly felt how false that notion of selfishness is and that sort of reprobation of the selfish, with, at the same time, all the shades of leniency, understanding, how false all that is, that whole world, how rigid and outside the Truth. “Outside the Truth,” not that its opposite would be true, no, that's not the point! It's that sort of “moral-mental” notion, which is such a self-evident affair that nobody questions it – how far, far away it is from the Truth.

But this morning's experience was luminous because I LIVED in the Truth. And I experienced both the true atmosphere and the conventional atmosphere. But a convention that's not local or of a particular period, of a time or a place, that's not it: they are kinds of conventions CREATED by the human consciousness, which take on nuances – they are quite supple – which take on nuances and transform themselves according to the need, but they really are conventions. It seemed to me like a balloon – immense, as large as the earth, much larger than the earth.

And at the same time I also had the experience (an experience I've had very, very often) that when you live in the Light, there is perfect comprehension, and it isn't something reflected or seen, that's not it, it is... something that IS, that exists: a living Light. And as soon as you want to express it, it gets into the balloon, and then it becomes conventional (even without uttering words: just saying it to yourself). When you are like this (immobile gesture turned Upward), then it's The Thing. And as soon as you try to formulate it to yourself, and, even more so, to write it, it seems to get into the balloon and it becomes conventional. To such a point that these days it's very difficult for me, when I am active, to write anything, I find it so flat and dry and distorted.

But at night... (laughing) as if by reaction, I dictate all kinds of things! But I don't remember what I write, it's absolutely elsewhere.

But I feel that artificiality constantly.


Constantly. But I don't know, I am waiting for, hoping for something that will be pure or true. But I constantly feel that artificiality.

That's right.

We're probably on the verge of the solution. It's always like that. We'll see.


The marvelous thing is that as soon as you get out of it, there's... phew! You seem to burst into a limitless immensity of light, and of such living light! So living, so powerful, so active! It's marvelous. Then all the rest becomes so paltry, ugh!


So ... (laughing) we're perhaps in search of the solution.

*   *

(Soon afterwards, the question comes up of the publication of the previous conversation, of June 8, 1966, in the appendix to the Playground Talk of April 19, 1951... fifteen years earlier. Satprem voices certain doubts, emphasizing the vast difference between the two texts.)

...We must put it in [the conversation of June 8], it's very important. Very useful. People must know it.

I felt there was such a gulf between the two....

That doesn't matter.

In fact it gives some little sense of the yoga – the yoga of Matter – of what it means.

You know, the ultimate outcome is something so wonderful that everything people have known, even those who have had the most unique, exceptional, marvelous experiences, all of it is insipid in comparison! It's like that.

And in fact the body is beginning to be aware of it, and because it's beginning to be aware of it, it also begins to feel that whatever the ordeal (as they call it in English), it's not too high a price to pay for that.

It's ready, it is ready to bear anything to have That... which is beyond all comprehension. There is a fullness of experience that cannot be known anywhere but here [in the body]. It's something that comes (massive gesture taking hold of the entire body). As I said, an absoluteness of sincerity – you simply ARE, that's all.

Naturally, there is a long way to go, and the way... I don't know, maybe some people are able to strew flowers on themselves on the road, but... at any rate that doesn't seem to me to be the most direct road!

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