December 9, 1972
(Mother caresses the flowers Sujata has just brought her.)
I still have my cold....
(Satprem:) But you look better, Mother.
Yes. It isn't really a “cold.”
Yes, I am sure.... I felt there was a cyclone... a real cyclone within.
(Mother laughs) There WAS a cyclone within.
Obviously, everything is designed so that the only... (I can't find the word in French) reliance, the only support is in the Divine. But I am not told what the “Divine” is – how do you like that!... Everything else is collapsing, except the... the... the what? The Divine... something – what?...
One feels it. It can't be described or defined in any way – absolutely not.
It's like an attempt to make you feel there isn't any difference between life and death, There. That it is something else than life or death – neither what we call death, nor what we call life – it is... something.
And that... is Divine.
Or rather it is our next step towards the Divine.