Chapter 3November 10, 1962
Book 11. November
And yet it is Existence, it is BEING: Being, pure Existence; full consciousness without an object – without an object of consciousness. Pure Existence without any development.
And it's always here, it never leaves you, it's always here; you don't have to go off looking for it – it is always here. If you start thinking about it, you might say: without that, there can be no world; without that, there can be neither time nor space nor movement nor consciousness – nothing. Therefore, it is everywhere.
It doesn't need the Manifestation in order to be – not at ALL. But without it, the Manifestation could not be.
In fact, the aim of meditation is to catch hold of that. And any path whatsoever is good, since you're sure to catch hold of it: it is HERE. You don't have to go far to look for it – it is right here.
It has become a kind of habit: I am eating a meal, for example, and swallow the wrong way or whatever (not even something violent, just a slightly uneasy sensation in the throat), I do this (gesture of drawing back) for one second, and it's finished. Or I am speaking to someone and the right word doesn't come automatically: I just have to do this (same gesture), and there it is. It works for everything. It puts things back in order.
And that's what you have in your meditations. Only (laughing), you won't be happy unless you get out of it – unless something dramatic happens! (Mother laughs and laughs) That's why you complain! Some people work years and years and years to have it just once.
That's all, mon petit.
(Mother listens to Satprem read a chapter from his manuscript entitled "Under the Sign of the Gods, "
in which he speaks of the overmind's inadequacy for attaining the plenitude of evolution, Afterwards,
Mother tells what she saw while he was reading.)
There's a kind of cadence....
205"I mean there is no longer 'something that stops.' But there are no words for it. I choose words for their vaguely analogous meaning, but for me they express something altogether different. There are no words for it!
It's a change of state WITHOUT a change of place.
This state is clearly outside time and space, that's certain. So you go from the state in time and space to the state where you're outside time and space, and NOT by a change of place ... something! It's something that happens inside, instantaneously. It's not a long passage like the long and gradual movement you experience in meditation, for instance; the passage into Sat isn't a gradual transition from one state to another: it is sudden, like an immediate reversal. But as I just Some people found it interesting, mon petit! First of all, Sri Aurobindo was there – it was like a large hall: a very large room with scarcely any walls, just enough so it didn't seem wide open to everything. And then there was a kind of musical instrument, like a grand piano, but much bigger and higher, playing its own music: nobody was playing it. And its "own music" was the music of what you have written. It was taking the form of... something like luminous, colored sheets of paper, tinged with gold, with pink, which were scattering in the air and then very slowly falling onto a floor that was scarcely a floor, with an almost birdlike movement. They were falling, falling – almost square sheets of paper falling one upon another like feathers – nothing heavy about it. And then from the left a being like a god from the overmind entered the room; he was both like a Hindu deity with a tiara, and a kind of angel in a long robe (a combination of the two), and he moved so lightly, without touching the ground – he was all lightness. And with a very lovely and harmonious movement (everything was so harmonious!), he gathered up all the sheets: he took them in his arms and they stayed there – they were weightless, you see. He gathered them up, smiling all the while, with a young and very, very luminous and happy face – something very lovely. Then, when he had gathered them all up, he turned towards me (I was here; you were over there, the music was there and Sri Aurobindo was there), and said as he was leaving, "I am taking all this to give to them," as if he were returning to the overmental world where they were greatly interested in it! (Mother laughs.)
But it was all so lovely, so very lovely! There was a rhythm; it was all unfolding rhythmically, a rhythm of the falling sheets of paper; and a rhythm moving along very slowly, not in a straight line, and undulating.
It was very lovely. A most pleasant atmosphere. It's very good. That's what I was beginning to see towards the end. It took form gradually, gradually, and it was all there by the time you finished reading. At the beginning my attention was divided between what you were reading and what was going on; afterwards it was entirely focused on what was happening: your sheets of paper falling and landing weightlessly, like birds, and spreading over a floor that wasn't solid (it was there just to give the impression of a room, but you could see through it). And while you were reading, he was gathering them all up, with a long robe trailing behind him. This being was made of practically the same substance as the sheets coming out of the piano (it was a kind of piano, it was playing music, but it was the principle of what you have written). So he gathered up everything, and when he had a stack this big, he said, "I am going to take it and show it to them."
It was really lovely.
But the gods may not be so pleased; after all, I say the overmind is inadequate!
Of course they will!
Oh, they're not stupid! (Mother laughs.) They certainly prefer this to the blind and stupefied worship most humans offer up to them.
Well, that's all for today. Next time is the 14th, Wednesday. Good. It's remarkable, the impression your reading creates: a really pleasant and agreeable atmosphere.