The Mother
Agenda
Volume 8
May 27, 1967
Do you remember S.B.? He was here.... He was a man with many disciples, he had yogic powers. He came here and was thunderstruck, as it were, when he saw Sri Aurobindo: he fainted. He
said afterwards it was because of the power of the revelation. He stayed here for years and years; he lived there, downstairs. Then he went away; you see, he used to receive all his disciples here, so I said, “No, that won't do, it's better to have a room elsewhere.” Then he left. And for years and years he wasn't heard of again. He has been making contact again lately (I have seen him relatively often at night), and he's made contact again with such ardor, such enthusiasm! He has just sent this card from Riga, in Latvia – he intended to go to Russia (Mother hands the card to Satprem):
“Greetings. I remember your marvel. I spoke of our divine Master and of your sweetness in a great conference here. Bless me. Yours ever.”
He was in Russia.... It has come back to him all at once: a great enthusiasm.
He lived for a time in that house at the corner, which has become the “Auroville Office,” and the roof of the house is uneven (one part is on a certain level, and without warning, the level suddenly drops half a story lower). Once while he was walking on the roof in meditation, he fell; it seems he had just eaten his meal, and he had a blockage. And he claimed he cured himself with an hour of concentration. It may be....
He was very childlike, very enthusiastic, and very boastful at the same time, but with a fervor which was rather fine. A sort of very young enthusiasm.... Now he must be rather old. And I always see him in the middle of a large crowd. He knows how to command attention. He isn't quite indifferent. But I didn't work to send him away from here: he had quarreled with someone or other, then started openly receiving a large number of disciples; I said, “It would be better if you saw your disciples elsewhere.” Then he left.
He writes a lot of books in Tamil.
It's the second card I've got from him. In the first he wrote he was for the second time going round the world, especially round Europe, and that he had been invited to Russia. And he has written a whole book (in Tamil) on Sri Aurobindo's yoga.
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After a silence
D. has gone to the Tibetan zones (not in Tibet, that's not possible, but up there, where the Tibetan refugees live), with some sort of hope of finding a guru. But I saw her yesterday, and she has changed a lot. Yesterday she told me (she had read something by me, I don't know where, because she generally doesn't read), she told me that one day, “Oh, I had a revelation, I suddenly understood that I didn't understand anything of what you say! Because we don't give words the same meaning.” I said it was true (!) “And now I've understood, I've understood how it is when we don't understand!”... And she was troubled, because of course, everyone tells her, “Why do you go there in search of what you have here?” I answered her, “What does it matter to you! It's quite simple, just tell them the truth – that you aren't ready for staying here.” She said, “Yes, that's what I am trying to tell them.” (She is trying to tell them in a roundabout way.)
But she has a great sincerity in her aspiration....
She's left. And this morning, before leaving, she sent me the flower
“Light without Obscurity.”1
*
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Soon afterwards, Mother goes into a long meditation
I saw a series of roses, this big (gesture of about ten inches), coming one after the other – magnificent! All kinds of colors. They certainly had a significance: one would arrive, come forward, as if giving a little bow, and go away, and then another arrived – roses this big.... Because I had complained just
before!2 It was just in front of you (gesture on the heart level), magnificent roses of a perfect shape, and all kinds of colors.
Basically, it [meditating] is my lazy moment. When I stay like that, it immediately becomes very pleasant, and there's always something pretty to be seen. It's my lazy moment.
It feels nice like that.
Oh, yes!
I just stop everything, and... To put it into words, it's like saying, “Your presence, Lord, let there be nothing left but That,” and it's over, everything stops. Then, at times I don't see anything, at other times... But tell me, it's ironic, I always see something when you're here!... At times I don't see anything at all, simply like this (blissful gesture). At other times I can hear the sounds around, but that's when the concentration is less deep: then you can hear.
But that was very pretty! A very pretty spectacle in front of me! And they came like... You know, like when they show slides: it comes from one side, pop! show itself, and then goes away; then from the other side, another one comes, pop! and goes away. And it remained there, in front of you.
We have work to do.
As for me, I am mentally tired.
You're tired.... But the mind shouldn't stir! It must stay put, like that. Oh, when the mind works it's horrible.
But there's a mental work that has to be done.
I greatly admire you!
So do I! And I complain.
But when I am like this, at the height of my laziness, do you find it restful, at least?
Oh, yes, certainly.
(Mother puts away the papers she had taken out and prepares to resume the meditation)
No, no! I'm quite rested.
Too bad, you were giving me my chance!
*
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(Then Satprem reads out a text from the Agenda, which he proposes to publish in the next Bulletin with the omission of a few passages.)
That's the very passage I find the most interesting!
It doesn't matter. Those who find it shocking will think I've grown soft in the head.
I can no longer read anything – when I start listening to something read out to me, I find it a bore! Words, words, words....
(Satprem protests)
As it is, no one any longer understands anything of what I write. A few people have timidly ventured to tell me so.
Never mind, prepare a copy of the whole thing and I'll show it to the very wise Pavitra. If he says it can pass... (Mother laughs) then...
There will always be people who don't understand.
Most of them.
So what!
If ONE understands, it's enough.