Chapter 5March 18, 1964

I am not going with a light heart....

I don't want you to fall ill like the first time. That's precisely what I am looking at and studying: whether it's possible to protect you adequately.

But for myself, I know: the first time I went away from here, in 1915 (and I left my psychic being here, I didn't take it with me – I knew how to do it – I left it behind), in spite of that, in spite of the link, when I came to the Mediterranean, suddenly I fell ill, dreadfully ill. I was constantly ill.

So I know, I know very well!

But even before I did the yoga, as soon as I returned to France from America or Africa, I would suffocate instantly, I couldn't stay – l never could. I could breathe in Brazil, I could breathe in Africa or even in Guyana, I could breathe in those countries, but in France, in Europe, I couldn't breathe.

In Europe, yes.

Anyway, I'll see, mon petit. Ultimately, it will depend on your receptivity. If you can get used to holding the charge – you understand, to keeping the atmosphere around you, in order to protect yourself.

We'll see.

(Mother reads a note she wrote in connection with a quarrel at the Ashram's handmade paper factory:)

The Employer to the Employee

"Nothing lasting can be established without a basis of trust. And this trust must be mutual. "You must be convinced that it is not only my good that I am aiming at, but also yours. And on

my side I must know and feel that you are here not merely to profit but also to serve.

"The welfare of the whole is dependent on the welfare of each part, and the harmonious growth

of the whole is dependent on the progress of every part.

"If you feel you are exploited, then I too will feel you are seeking to exploit me. If you fear that

you may be deceived, then I too will feel you are seeking to deceive me.

"It is only in honesty, sincerity and trust that human society can progress."

and aggression must be the basis of your relationship." It's just the opposite of what I am saying.

* * * Then Mother takes up the translation of a letter from English to French.

To translate I go to the place where things are crystallized and formulated. Nowadays my translations are not exactly an amalgamation, but they are under the influence of both languages: my English is a little French and my French is a little English – it's a mixture of the two. And I see that from the standpoint of expression, it's rather beneficial, for a certain subtlety comes from it.

I don't "translate" at all, I never try to translate: I simply go back to the "place" where it came from, and instead of receiving this way (gesture above the head, like scales tipping to the right for French) I receive that way (the scales tip to the left for English), and I see that it doesn't make much difference: the origin is a sort of amalgamation of the two languages. Perhaps it could give birth to a somewhat more supple form in both languages: a little more precise in English, a little more supple in French.

I don't find our present language satisfactory. But I don't find the other thing [Franglais] satisfactory either – it hasn't been found yet.

It's being worked out.

Each time, something in me grates a little.

It's on the way.

But it's my method for Savitri, too, it's a long time since I stopped translating: I follow the thought up to a point, and then, instead of thinking this way (same gesture of tipping to the right), I think that way (to the left), that's all. So it's not pure English, not pure French either.

Personally I would like it to be neither English nor French, to be something else! But for the moment, what words are to be used?... I clearly feel that to me, both in English and French (and maybe in other languages if I knew any), words have another meaning, a slightly unusual and far more PRECISE meaning than they do in languages as we know them – far more precise. Because, to me, a word means exactly a certain experience, and I clearly see that people understand quite differently; so I feel their understanding as something hazy and imprecise. Every word corresponds to an experience, to a particular vibration.

I don't say I have reached the satisfactory expression – it's taking shape. And the method is always the same: I never translate – never, never – I go up above, to the place where one thinks beyond words, where one experiences the idea or the thought of a thing, or the movement or the feeling (whatever), and when it's in a particular language, it goes like this (same gesture as before), while in another language, it goes like that: it's as if something up above tipped over. I don't translate on the same level at all, I never translate on the level of languages. And sometimes, I notice that for me the quality of the words is very different from what it is for others, very different.