{"id":6032,"date":"2013-07-13T02:05:29","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T02:05:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=6032"},"modified":"2013-07-13T02:05:29","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T02:05:29","slug":"15-march-19-1966-vol-07-volume-07","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/02-works-of-the-mother\/03-agenda\/07-volume-07\/15-march-19-1966-vol-07-volume-07","title":{"rendered":"-15_March 19_1966.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><H3>March 19, 1966<\/H3><br \/>\n<P>We spent part of the night together.<br \/>\n<P>There was something I thought yesterday I should tell you, but now I don&#8217;t remember&#8230;. In fact, I think we did it last night!<\/p>\n<p><i>What happened last night?<\/i><\/p>\n<p><P>Oh, all sorts of things always happen.<br \/>\n<P>It&#8217;s always on a plane of intellectual organization&#8230;. &#8220;Intellectual,&#8221; meaning that it doesn&#8217;t go lower than the intellectual: it&#8217;s something coming from above which we spread and organize in the terrestrial mind &#8211; that&#8217;s where we always meet. &#8220;Meet&#8221; isn&#8217;t exactly the word: it&#8217;s a habit of work. I must be going there very regularly, but when the night is full of lots and lots of things, I don&#8217;t always remember. But last night, it so happens that I became conscious at that moment; it seems to be a very habitual activity.<br \/>\n<P>It&#8217;s a place (I have already told you about it [[See <i>Agenda V, <\/i>August 14, 1964. ]]), a place which is very, very vast, very open and luminous, and VERY PEACEFUL. And very pleasant, it&#8217;s a place where one works very well. And there is nothing, no limits &#8211; it&#8217;s not a sky, not an earth at all; I can&#8217;t say there are buildings, there are no buildings, yet one feels one is protected; and yet there are no walls. Now and then one sees a sort of very small shining steel bar <i>(Mother draws a sort of frame that seems to delimit the place), <\/i><br \/>\nlike silver, now and then; and now and then, one feels there are kinds of<br \/>\ncupboards that one opens, shelves, but transparent, it&#8217;s all transparent. There<br \/>\nare tables, but transparent; they&#8217;re solid since one can write on them, but<br \/>\nthey&#8217;re transparent. No object is in the way. But everything is organized<br \/>\n<P align=\"center\"><font size=\"2\">Page 63<\/font><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P>for the work. And you are there, you often write; you often come in and we<br \/>\ntalk, we organize. There are people, too, and we tell them to do this or that.<br \/>\n<P>But I meet you there very regularly. Only, I must say that before going to bed I thought I would see you today and I wondered if I would have something to tell you, an experience or something else, and then, in the middle of the night (between half past midnight and one), I woke up, if I may say so, I awoke there, materially, and I remembered everything. I thought, &#8220;Well, well!&#8221;<br \/>\n<P>What we tell each other, what we talk about with words, I don&#8217;t know. I don&#8217;t have a sense of uttering words, but we communicate very well: we each know what the other thinks; we speak, answer one another; and then we organize. And there were people from different countries &#8211; we were arranging things. It seems to be the place of intellectual directives for the work in different countries.<br \/>\n<P>You must probably lack what Th\u00e9on called the &#8220;substance&#8221; of certain planes in the consciousness of your being, so when you wake up you don&#8217;t remember, it doesn&#8217;t come through. But maybe you are left with an impression, no?<\/p>\n<p><i>Yes &#8230; It&#8217;s very insubstantial.<\/i><\/p>\n<p><P>But it isn&#8217;t &#8220;substantial.&#8221; It&#8217;s VERY conscious, but not substantial. It&#8217;s very conscious, far more conscious than the consciousness here. It&#8217;s a clear, precise, powerful consciousness <i>(sovereign gesture), <\/i>with the sense of a great mastery over things. But it isn&#8217;t substantial. It&#8217;s probably my translation &#8211; translation in the physical consciousness &#8211; that gives the impression of &#8230; of what?&#8230; They are like huge, huge &#8220;halls,&#8221; and so high! There&#8217;s no ceiling, you don&#8217;t see any ceiling; you don&#8217;t see any floor, yet you walk &#8211; you walk, but without the feeling of walking: you move about. And then, if you want something somewhere, you seem to open a drawer or a cupboard and you find it, but there are no keys, no knobs, you don&#8217;t even see any objects.<br \/>\n<P>It&#8217;s very conscious, but not at all material.<br \/>\n<P>But it&#8217;s a state of being in which, in thought, you very often are. It&#8217;s the intelligence that stands above circumstances, events, and which &#8230; there, one doesn&#8217;t even feel the need to &#8220;foresee&#8221; &#8211; there&#8217;s nothing for one to try to know, of course! The knowledge is there, it&#8217;s a PLACE of knowledge. One has the knowledge of things as they are and a clear will for what they must be. But absolutely no sense of struggle or effort, nothing of all that.<br \/>\n<P align=\"center\"><font size=\"2\">Page 64<\/font><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P>It&#8217;s not at all an &#8220;emotive&#8221; place. It&#8217;s clear, precise, luminous, very vast, without struggle &#8211; a remarkable infallibility.<br \/>\n<P>But it is certain that some part of me is there all the time: I don&#8217;t feel I have to change places in order to go there, it&#8217;s &#8230; (how can I explain?) as if my center of observation shifted: I observe my activity here or there, or there, or here. It&#8217;s not &#8220;me,&#8221; there isn&#8217;t a &#8220;me-center&#8221; changing places, not at all. I must be there permanently, working there permanently.<br \/>\n<P>And there are kinds of messengers that are sent into the earth atmosphere to convey orders or inspiration or a particular knowledge.<\/p>\n<p><i>For some time now, whenever I think of terrestrial or Indian circumstances, I have a sort of repeated impression of the calm before the storm.<\/i><\/p>\n<p><P>(Silence) But that place is above the storm &#8211; the storm is all the way down.<\/p>\n<p><i>I feel something is being prepared.<\/i><\/p>\n<p><P>All over the world, things aren&#8217;t going too well.<\/p>\n<p><i>It&#8217;s not the world that bothers me, it&#8217;s India.<\/i><\/p>\n<p><P>Yes, I mean it&#8217;s in India that things don&#8217;t look good.<\/p>\n<p><i>That&#8217;s where the nerve center is. It&#8217;s very sad, it&#8217;s not pretty.<\/i><\/p>\n<p><P>It doesn&#8217;t look good.<br \/>\n<P>And that poor woman [Indira Gandhi] truly does the best she can with goodwill, a goodwill that tries to understand all sides at the same time.[[Indira Gandhi had been nominated prime minister of India two months earlier, on January 19. ]] She really does the best she can. Inwardly I support her as much as I can, because &#8230;<br \/>\n<P>The astrologers have predicted that the next few months, March and April, and<br \/>\nperhaps May, are going to be months of horrible confusion, battle, rebellion;<br \/>\nand so, in their mind (a sort of subconscious mind), people feel the need to be<br \/>\nin agreement with the astrologers! That&#8217;s how it is, it&#8217;s as silly as that. A<br \/>\nspirit of imitation:<br \/>\n<P align=\"center\"><font size=\"2\">Page 65<\/font><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P>&quot;Oh, the astrologers said so, therefore it has to be so.&quot; There you are.<br \/>\n<P>And it&#8217;s ugly everywhere.<br \/>\n<P>It is true that up till now, the government has multiplied blunders of such stupidity!&#8230; It seems a child with common sense wouldn&#8217;t have committed such blunders. And naturally, even in those who have no bad will or vengeful feelings, it creates an unpleasant tension: you can&#8217;t do anything anymore, you&#8217;re bound on all sides! Whatever you do, there are oppositions and prohibitions everywhere. So people no longer know what to do, nobody can do anything anymore.<br \/>\n<P>They have ruined the country, starved it.<br \/>\n<P>But then, even on that (I don&#8217;t know who is responsible for it), they have launched a campaign abroad, a campaign for &#8220;the poor devil starving and crying famine,&#8221; in such a mean, oh, such a mean way! &#8230; We get letters from everywhere, from every country (lots of letters from France), and especially from schools, centers of education, people who write, &#8220;We hear that you are starving, we are so appalled, what can we do to help?&#8221; We are obliged to answer them, &#8220;No, we&#8217;re not starving at all!&#8221;<br \/>\n<P>It&#8217;s pitiable.<br \/>\n<P align=\"right\"><i>(silence)<\/i><br \/>\n<P>But up above, &#8220;one&#8221; really isn&#8217;t in favor of havoc.<\/p>\n<p><i>One isn&#8217;t in favor of havoc?<\/i><\/p>\n<p><P>(Mother makes a gesture of vigorous denial) It&#8217;s a waste of time. All the more so as men have perfected such means of destruction that it could mean centuries lost, not just a few years. Entire civilizations to rebuild.<br \/>\n<P>No, &#8220;one&#8221; isn&#8217;t in favor of that.<br \/>\n<P>It&#8217;s a seething of something very dark, very dark.<br \/>\n<P>It reminds me of the words of the &#8220;Lord of Nations,&#8221; the great Asura, when he told me, &#8220;I know that my power is drawing to its close, but you may be sure that before disappearing I will destroy everything I can.&#8221;<br \/>\n<P>That&#8217;s it, that&#8217;s exactly it.<br \/>\n<P>And unfortunately, people give him the opportunity to do so: it&#8217;s stupidity, ignorance, a sort of blindness.<br \/>\n<P>What&#8217;s lamentable above all is the way men confuse power with violence. That sort of ignorant feeling that thinks power must<br \/>\n<P align=\"center\"><font size=\"2\">Page 66<\/font><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p><P>manifest as violence. [[Let us recall Mao Tse-tung: &#8220;Power comes from the barrel of a gun.&#8221; ]] Violence is an asuric deformation. True power acts in peace &#8211; a peace like this <i>(gesture of massive descent), <\/i>which nothing can disturb.<br \/>\n<P align=\"center\"><font size=\"2\">Page 67<\/font><\/p>\n<p><\/b><\/p>\n<p align=\"right\" style=\"margin-top: 0;margin-bottom: 0\">&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>March 19, 1966 We spent part of the night together. There was something I thought yesterday I should tell you, but now I don&#8217;t remember&#8230;&#8230;.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[142],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6032","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-07-volume-07","wpcat-142-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6032","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6032"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6032\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6032"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6032"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6032"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}