August 3, 1963
Physical Matter, physical substance – the very elementary consciousness that's in physical substance – has been so ill-treated (since man's presence on earth, I suppose, because before man, there probably wasn't enough self-consciousness to be aware of being ill-treated; the substance wasn't conscious enough, I suppose, to make a distinction between a normal peaceful state and unfavorable conditions; but anyway, that goes back quite long time), so ill-treated that it finds it very hard to believe things can be different. That consciousness has an aspiration – an aspiration especially for a LUMINOUS peace, something that isn't the dark peace of Unconsciousness, which it doesn't like (I don't know if it ever liked it, but it no longer does). It aspires to a luminous peace; not to a consciousness full of various things, not that: simply to a peaceful consciousness, very peaceful, very quiet, very luminous – that's what it wants. Yet at the same time, it has some difficulty believing that it's possible. I am experiencing it: the concrete and absolutely tangible intervention of the supreme Power, supreme Light and supreme Goodness – it [the consciousness in physical substance] has the experience of that, and every time it has a new sense of wonder, but in that sense of wonder I can see something like: “Is it really possible?”
It gives me the impression, you know, of a dog that has been beaten so much that it expects nothing but blows.
Yet the proofs are accumulating. If faith and trust could settle permanently, the difficulty would probably be over.
That consciousness feels a sort of anxiety towards mental force; the moment a mental force manifests, it goes like this (gesture of recoil): “Oh, no! Enough of that, enough, enough!” As though mental force were the cause of all its torment. It feels mental force as something so hard, dry, rigid, ruthless, above all dry – dry, empty – empty of the true Vibration.
That's becoming quite clear. For example, whenever there is no need to do anything outwardly and all activity stops, then there's rest, and there comes that thirst and aspiration for a luminous Peace. It comes, and not only does it come, it seems to be firmly established. But if in that rest something suddenly flags and the old mental activity starts up (an activity of the mind of the cells, the most material mind), immediately that consciousness comes out of its rest with a jerk: “Ah, no! Not that, not that, not that!” Instantly the mental activity is stopped, and there is an aspiration for the Presence – “Not that, not that!”
This morning, I had the experience twice; a very slight mental activity, and almost instantly: “Ah, no, no! Not that.” That consciousness prefers to act or move or do anything rather than fall into that condition – which it seems to regard as the Enemy.
This morning there was a kind of vision or sensation of the curve from the animal to man – a spiral curve – then of the return to the state above the animal, in which life, action, movement aren't the result of Mind but of a Force, which is felt as a Force of SHADOWLESS light, that is, self-luminous, casting no shadows, and absolutely peaceful. And in that peace, so harmonious and soft... oh, it's supreme rest. That disharmony and hardness are the cause of fatigue in life.
I am speaking of the cells' consciousness.
Oh, to get out of that chaos of ideas, wills, conceptions – it's all so petty, so dry, so hollow, and at the same time so irritating in its instability.
And it seems to be reflected in circumstances: everyone seems to be, if not at the peak of his difficulties, at least a good way up (!) Disharmony, conflict, chaos appear to have reached their highest (I hope they won't rise any higher, because as it is it's hardly bearable). From morning till night, without letup, quarrels, discontent, demands... oh, dissatisfaction, grumblings, all the time, all the time, with a sort of simmering – a simmering of disorder and dissatisfaction. (Mother points to a stack of letters): see all that – which I am supposed to answer, naturally.
(Shortly afterwards, Mother goes into meditation and Satprem follows her:)
Do you still have a sensation of “descent”? A descent of force?
Me, I no longer feel that it descends: it's there (gesture around and everywhere). That is to say, I don't feel “something descending,” it's there all the time – what about you?
I rarely feel a descent, except at times when the Force rushes downward, from below the shoulders downward.
Yes, in the body.
Then I feel a descent.
It [the meditation] was very good, very still and luminous, without any disturbance. Very good.
But the consciousness doesn't seem to be progressing – the consciousness, you understand.
Because it doesn't want to be mentalized!
You shouldn't worry.
Oh, I remember, one day (it impressed me much), the Swami told me, “But you should imagine this, imagine that....”
I said, “No, I don't want to! I want THE THING TO COME.” Then he replied (he said it with great force), “That was your error throughout all your lives.”
Not wanting to imagine?
Yes, imagine, make use of the mental element.
But that's quite... On the contrary, I've had to struggle against that, not in myself but everywhere, against that mania for imagining. That's what gives me such a... (how can I put it?) both restful and pleasant impression [with you], everything stays still. If one wants to receive the Truth, all that must come to a stop.
I do understand.... My complaint is rather that the silence doesn't result in a clearer consciousness, for example.
It will come.
No, that habit of imagining is very, very... I consider it very baneful.
I had that tendency very strongly in the past; that's what I called “storytelling” – everything, everything became stories: all the work, all that had to be done. But I stopped it completely, completely, as a dangerous thing – it gives a great material power (that's probably why the Swami asked you to do it), what it gives is a material power, but it's VERY bad, it falsifies all that comes from above.