April 7, 1965 Are you sleeping well? Not too well, and my sleep isn't conscious: I don't see you. Oh, mon petit (laughing), sometimes I say to myself, "What a fine thing it must be not to be conscious!" Constantly, you know, the whole night, without stop, it streams past - there are, of course, moments when I go into a blissful state, but I am not granted that for long. I'd really like to spend at least four or five hours like that, but I am not granted it. Constantly, constantly ... and what carryings-on! I can't say.... It's neither superconscious nor subconscious ... I might say it is intraconscious - it's just the underside of things. And then ... (Mother shakes her head)

July 14, 1965 Mother holds a series of slips of paper in her hand: This morning I was in a sort of zone - a zone or a vein.... You know, the veins of gold inside the earth? It was like that. In the mental banality of the world, there was a sort of luminous vein going past and in which I found myself plunged - it felt pleasant, it felt very comfortable. And I started noting things down, when those people came with all the usual ineptitudes, each one asking something, each one shut in like this (gesture with blinkers), so it went away. I called it, "A few definitions." The first one was about someone going away who wanted to take something [blessed by Mother] for his family. I told

September 15, 1965 I spent my night in a ... not a hurricane, not a cyclone, but ... worse than any cyclone. I was in a dark room, with glass panes on all sides (that's symbolic), and through the glass panes, I saw ... Everywhere I looked, there was wind blowing in all directions and carrying everything away: houses, trees, everything, but everything. Without letup. Page 241 And an infernal noise. It was clear that it should also have carried away the place where I was, but that didn't move. And an indication. The place where I was was very large (larger than a house), and I went about: I tried to rest somewhere, but the noise and din was so dreadful that it was impossible,

September 22, 1965 What's the next aphorism? It's on silence. Silence ... Oh, it's better to practice that than talk about it. That's an experience I had here long ago: the difference between wanting immediately to spread and use what one has learnt, and, by contrast, the contact with higher knowledge in which one remains as still as possible so it may have a transforming effect. We'll talk about it again another time. The scientific mind is sure of its knowledge only if it is applied, put into practice, and if it yields useful results. That's what they call "knowledge" (!) *** Have you read the report of the United Nations session? Yes, about the cease-fire?

September 8, 1965 (Mother reads a few lines from "Savitri" which she prepares to translate into French. It is Savitri's heart that speaks:) The great stars burn with my unceasing fire And life and death are both its fuel made. Life only was my blind attempt to love: Earth saw my struggle, heaven my victory. (X. III . 638) She says, Life and death are the fuel, then, In my blind attempt Page 235 LIFE ONLY was my attempt to love. [[Mother later stressed again, "It's not Life was only, but Life only." ]] Because my attempt to love was blind, I limited it to life - but I won the victory in death. It's very interesting. (Mother repeats:) Earth saw my st

April 17, 1965 You said there had been a step forward. Is there something new? I had always said that there were two points on which the future hadn't been revealed to me. First, what the first form of supramental life on earth would be exactly, that is to say, the stage that will follow man as he is - just as there was a stage that followed the animal (and which, in fact, disappeared), what is the stage that will follow man, and will perhaps be destined to disappear, too? Then the other point, which was more personal: could the transformation of this body go far enough to allow an indefinite prolongation, or would the work on the cells be somehow partly wasted? Page 71 I can't

November 3, 1965 (Before going into the music room where Mother will play the organ for the birthday of Sunil, a disciple who is a musician.) The other day I told you about that comet, and something amusing has happened. Just for fun I said to myself, "Oh, it would be quite interesting to see this comet as it can be seen through the most powerful telescope ever invented." And barely had the thought come (it was last night) when I heard, "Look." So I opened my eyes, and I saw the comet, big like this, very big, as it could be seen with the most powerful telescope, quite bright, with its tail! And the interesting thing was that just beside it (not like the comet's tail, but just next

January 31, 1965 (From Mother to Sujata) Sujata, my dear child, I am with you always and with Satprem too. You must both be calm and trusting, all will be well. With all my tenderness Signed: Mother Learn, Satprem and you, to feel CONCRETELY my presence in your hearts. This is a wonderful opportunity to make this progress. Page 23 February

December 10, 1965 What do you have to say?... Tell me. I am a bit troubled because I've got the news that my friend has committed suicide. Tell me about it. Which friend? A Gold Washer. But you've had many friends in life, haven't you? No. Had you kept in touch with him? He was the person closest to me. Did you see him last time when you went back to France? No. Where was he? Oh, around the world, in Africa lately, here and there. And where does he write you from? From Paris. How old is he? A bit younger than me. What does he write? Do you have his letter? Give it to me. He was a rebel. Yes. Page 323 He didn't find. Bu

March 6, 1965 (Mother looks at a letter not yet opened) I wrote something to K. and he must have replied ... very indignantly, no doubt! What did you tell him? (Mother looks for a note) "We have faith in Sri Aurobindo, he represents for us something that we formulate for ourselves with the words we find the most adequate to express our experience. For us those words are obviously the best to formulate our experience. But if in our enthusiasm we were convinced that they are the only ones suitable to express correctly what Sri Aurobindo is and the experience he gave us, we would become dogmatic and would be on the verge of founding a religion." Oh, yes, indeed! I had written to