The Mother

Agenda

Volume 8

December 2, 1967

Mother gives “Transformation” flowers and slips one through her buttonhole

A general transformation!

I have my own here.... So it withers, and when I have my bath I take it out and put it in a glass of water – half an hour later, it's as fresh as if it had just been born! It's very pretty.

It's my joy in life.

Every morning, I must say, I spend three quarters of an hour arranging flowers like that, and it's all joyful – light, light in everything, without darkness.

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(Then Satprem asks Mother about the conversation of November 22 – the turning point of 1962 and the awakening of the cells' consciousness – which he would like to publish in the forthcoming February issue of the “Bulletin,” in “A Propos.”)

It's too personal.

But it's so clear! It's the first time you have made the thing so clear.

(After a long silence) I know that people will be happy, but it will give me a lot of trouble.

You think it will cause you difficulties?

I am constantly invaded (it won't be much worse than it is!). At one point it was very difficult, but now it's beginning to... I've reconciled myself to it. I think it's the body that reacts, but it's growing more and more impersonal, I think.

People understand so poorly – but what can be done about that?

In the whole country, the number of things written about me, each one of them as stupid as the next... all because of those ninety years. What a fuss they make over those ninety years!

You understand, I would have liked it to become public once the body's appearance had been transformed – then it becomes interesting, but we're still a long way from it.

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Soon afterwards

This morning I was shown photos again, photos I had never seen, which I am asked to sign for people who've bought them.... In one I look like Annie Besant! (Mother laughs) There are all sorts!

But in one of them I seem to be shut in a world of darkness and unconsciousness, and if you look at the face... it really looks desperate – not desperate, but unhappy. Things of that sort, which I had never noticed. They're sold by the thousands, mon petit!