Chapter 3November 10, 1967

Last night again, for a long time in that same place. It's strange, because I wouldn't be able to tell the precise memory of all that took place, but with every circumstance of the morning, every moment the impression is, "Ah, this was decided last night... ah, I saw that last night...." Like that. Strange. And it's always the night before the day when I am to see you.

* * *

(Mother reads out the message she intends to distribute for January 1, 1968:)

"Remain young. Never stop striving towards perfection."

* * *

(Then Mother goes into a long contemplation lasting nearly forty-five minutes.)

Anything to say, or to ask?... As for me, I can stay like this indefinitely. It never happens, mind you129 – yes, for a minute or two, but a long moment like this gives me a sort of bath of tranquil light: there's nothing left, nothing stirs anymore, it's all luminous, peaceful, tranquil... a sort of bliss. Whew!

Anything to say?

No, the feeling is that unless something miraculous happens in the way men understand it, well, it

will take many centuries.

But you never expected it not to take any time!?

Obviously not.

But I never thought, I never believed it could come fast. First of all, if one just tries with one's own body, as I do, one soon sees the difference between matter as it is, its constitution as it is, and... well, and what we may conceive of a divine existence – "divine," that is, not tied down every second to the darkness of a nearly unconscious matter.... How long will it take? How long did it take to change the