Chapter 3June 17, 1961

(Mother gets up to leave)

There you are, petit.

Don’t worry.

After all, that’s what I am here for, isn’t it?! It MUST be done, it has to be done. But it’s quite a disgusting job.

All yoga, all the yogas, mon petit, are amusements. Oh, all the disciplines are joys.... But it’s not THAT.

It’s a nasty job.

So far, the meditations with X are much better than last time. Today especially it was very good.

It’s a contemplation going right up to the Supreme, with a constant, continuous Descent: something which doesn’t waver the whole time (‘doesn’t waver’ – I mean doesn’t vary), during the whole meditation. But if I ask him what happened, he’ll tell me a little story!

Yesterday I saw N. and he told me, ‘Oh! X had an experience during the meditation with you this morning.’ ‘Ah!’ I said to myself, ‘This is going to be interesting.’ (I was wrong to think so, by the way, even for a quarter of a second.) ‘Yes,’ he told me, ‘he saw what seemed to be a transparent golden veil descending over you; and by your side were flowers like roses, or colored like roses, with the feet of a child upon them.’

All the ‘psychics’ tell you such stories! It was the same thing yesterday, the same Experience, only less strong and less continuous. But all these petty imageries don’t interest me.

So I don’t ask him anything.

Do you mean that different people can see different things under the same circumstances? The phenomenon isn’t objective?

Oh, it depends entirely upon the plane in which you find yourself! No, five different people will see five different things. Only when one is in marvelous accord, in an identical vibration, as happened to me with Sri Aurobindo.... But that never took the form of little stories!

Whenever there was a special force descending, or an opening, or a supramental manifestation, we would know it at the same time, in the same manner. And we didn’t even need to talk about it; we