Loretta reads Mother's Questions and Answers:1956-05-30

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Transcript of:
Mother's Questions and Answers: May 30, 1956
by Loretta, 2017 (1:04:58)
Audio icon.png Listen on Auroville Radio →

In this class, Mother speaks about expressing the Divine through art and music and poetry. And she explains the difference between a living art and a flat copy of nature. Elsewhere, she has spoken about what could be called the 'artistic ego'. This attitude actually gets in the way of real artistic expression. As long as the artist or the musician or the poet works to receive some sort of status, or wants some kind of recognition, or praise, or personal credit for their creation – as long as that remains somewhere in their consciousness while they're working, they're lost in artificial vanities. There are people who have a beautiful artistic gift, but they may have a psychological need also to be seen as an 'artist', or to be known as an artist. But like any psychological need, it's always something that we can work on.

Mother says that when people can recognize that it's actually the higher force of the Divine acting through them – and they stop trying to take personal credit for it – their work becomes much better. And they become more peaceful; and also better people.

And through the ages people have spoken about what they call the Muse: the Muse comes and then they create something beautiful. People write poetry and songs to the Muse. And that of course is just the divine force, working through the artist: making the more beautiful thing, and raising the whole consciousness of the artist in feeling something very beautiful.

Mother also speaks about the best way to do all our work, no matter what kind of work it is. And it all comes back to the same: to our attitude. It seems like we all have constant, ongoing attitudes about whatever we do that stop us from arriving at the deeper consciousness that we want to have.

Then after that, Mother goes on to tell the class something which has become quite well-known over the years: a little speech that's been reprinted in different places. She tells a little story about wanting to create a place where people could have all their needs met, and all the necessities of life given to them, so they could devote themselves and all their time and energy to seeking higher realizations. She had this dream when she was very young. And she achieved her dream when she created the Ashram. And although she doesn't say straight out that it didn't work, she says it indirectly. Her conclusion is that the things that prevent people from consecrating themselves to an inner realization are not the needs they have to take care of, or the time and energy they have to use to get the necessities of life. But the things that prevent them are lack of aspiration, or dullness and inertia, or laziness and an 'I-don't-care' attitude.

And then she goes on to scold the ashramites quite roundly about their conduct. She speaks only about their – what she calls their constant, endless talking. On the tape, we hear her using the French word 'bavarder'; and 'bavarder' means 'to gossip'. It also means 'to chatter'. On the tape, you hear her say it five times, very strongly. In the book they've printed it only three times. And when you hear the tape, you hear the tone of her voice: it really gives the impression that she's very strong about it, and that they really should stop it.

The English translator of the French tape-recording chose the English word 'chatter'; but it does mean 'gossip' also. And it's pretty clear from other contexts – other writings and saying of Mother and Sri Aurobindo – that Mother is saying 'gossip'. (If she's also saying 'chatter', she's clearly saying 'gossip'.)

Today, we have a tendency to believe that the people who are here, today, in the Ashram and Auroville, are not as yogically developed as the people who were here in the beginning. But when you read Sri Aurobindo's early correspondence, with the early disciples, it comes out very clearly that they're all struggling with the same lower natures that we have today. And in that way – whatever culture they came from, whatever background they came from, whatever spiritual practice they may have done or spiritual studies they may have done – they really were just like us. People stood around and talked and complained about all the problems; they should have been concentrating on receiving the solution, instead of concentrating on the problem. And the solution, in this case – then and now – is putting time and energy into opening to Mother's force and Sri Aurobindo's force.

At least they could have been chattering about all the marvels and wonders they were experiencing, just being in the Ashram created by Mother and Sri Aurobindo! It's an atmosphere that's here today. And the people's habits are just the same today. Probably everybody knows at least one or two other people who spend a lot of time talking about what they call the 'lack of consciousness' or the 'low consciousness' of other people: complaining about their mistakes, complaining about their failings. And complaining about people who are no different from they are, in the Auroville departments, trying their best to figure out how to run things in this strong, moving, tremendous force and atmosphere here in Auroville.

And people may even know that what they're doing harms the people they complain about. They may even know that it comes right back on them and their family, and it harms lots of things – but they can't stop doing it. And we do have Sri Aurobindo's explanations about that. Like all the other human movements, Sri Aurobindo has written on this subject; it was going on in the Ashram almost a hundred years ago.

There's a book called Sri Aurobindo's Letters on Himself and the Ashram. And in there, there's a small section called “Avoiding Gossip”.

Letters on Himself and the Ashram
“Miscellaneous Matters” (“Avoiding Gossip” p.803-804)

Autobiographical Notes - Miscellaneous Matters icon.jpg
PDF (15 pages)

On July 6th of 1933, someone wrote to Sri Aurobindo asking:

“Is it not true that to look always at others’ faults and criticise them is harmful and an obstacle to one’s progress?”
“Yes, all that is true. The lower vital takes a mean and petty pleasure in picking out the faults of others and thereby one hampers both one’s own progress and that of the subject of the criticism.”[1]

He wrote to someone else that gossiping and making fun of others is a hindrance to one's progress in Yoga.[2]

And there is a way to get out of all this. Sri Aurobindo explains it to someone on December 6th of 1936. He seems to be writing to someone who can't stop their gossiping. We don't have the original letter, but from Sri Aurobindo's answer it looks like they're asking for help:

“The difficulty you experience exists because speech is a function which in the past has worked much more as an expression of the vital in man than of the mental will. Speech breaks out as the expression of the vital and its habits without caring to wait for the control of the mind; the tongue has been spoken of as the unruly member. In your case the difficulty has been increased by the habit of talk about others, — gossip, to which your vital was very partial, so much that it cannot even yet give up the pleasure in it. It is therefore this tendency that must cease in the vital itself. Not to be under the control of the impulse to speech, to be able to do without it as a necessity and to speak only when one sees that it is right to do so and only what one sees to be right to say, is a very necessary part of Yogic self-control.
It is only by perseverance and vigilance and a strong resolution that this can be done, but if the resolution is there, it can be done in a short time by the aid of the Force behind.”[3]

Mother and Sri Aurobindo were always aware of these problems in the people who came to them. They expected all this when they started the Ashram. On February 11th of 1936, Sri Aurobindo wrote to someone:

“Your description of the psychological state of the Asramites is vivid and convincing and very true. It is that which we are up against. It is the average physical consciousness of humanity concentrated in the Asram and the one consolation is that if the Force can transform that, then it can transform anything.”[4]

A couple days later, he wrote to someone:

“Everybody has to deal with the lower nature. No Yoga can be done without overcoming it, neither this Yoga nor any other. A Yogic life means a life in which one tries to follow the law of Yoga, the aim of Yoga in all details of life. Here people do not do that, they live like ordinary people, quarrelling, gossiping, indulging their desires, thinking of Yoga only in their spare moments.”[5]

So we can see how difficult it is to stay connected, and to stay concentrated on progress. If the few people who were living with Mother and Sri Aurobindo couldn't do it (and 'few' means: in the beginning there were like 30, then 50, then 80, and slowly through the years like that), if those people – who lived with Mother and Sri Aurobindo, who had a huge amount of daily contact with the Mother in those days, and who could write freely to Sri Aurobindo – if they couldn't do it so easily, certainly nobody else can!

However, as the years have gone on, and their work has gotten stronger, and the force has gotten stronger, and more people are really sincerely trying – there is something more. Even so, it's not so easy.

We have the atmosphere created by Mother and Sri Aurobindo – not only over the years, but a living, powerful force that keeps coming. And then we have the atmosphere of the people. And Sri Aurobindo writes about that. On March 15th of 1937, he wrote:

“There are two atmospheres in the Asram, ours and that of the sadhaks. When people with a little perceptiveness come from outside, they are struck by the deep calm and peace in the atmosphere and it is only when they mix much with the sadhaks that this perception and influence fade away. The other atmosphere of dullness or unrest is created by the sadhaks themselves — if they were opened to the Mother as they should be, they would live in the calm and peace and not in unrest or dullness.”[6]

Sri Aurobindo also gives us some idea of how we could regard the wrong movements and weaknesses that we might see. It's an attitude that we can have when we see people around us, or people not far from us – people that we know. In 1933 he wrote:

“The sadhaks of this Asram are not perfect — they have plenty of weaknesses and wrong movements. It is blindness not to be able to see that; only it should not lead to a criticising or condemnatory attitude on persons — it should be regarded as the play of forces which have to be overcome.”[7]

There is other guidance: we have books filled with their guidance, for the people who really want to progress.

There's something very beautiful, very simple and lovely which Mother gave to Champaklal. Champaklal was a very special being; he was really a most extraordinary person. He was concentrated; he really was concentrated. And everyone in the Ashram always spoke about him like this. Champaklal came early, as a very young man; and he was Sri Aurobindo's personal attendant. He took care of all of Sri Aurobindo's daily life: his physical surroundings, cleaning everything, serving him; his whole life was simply that. When Sri Aurobindo left his body, Champaklal served Mother. Eventually he published a couple of books: one called Champaklal Speaks; there's another called Champaklal's Treasures. And in these books, he published things that Mother told him to do, things that Mother wrote to him and advice for his sadhana. And here is something for a person who'd been close to them, and concentratedly close to them, and concentrated on his Yoga, for decades. And it's an advice that many, many people love, and it goes like this:

“Be simple. Be happy. Remain quiet. Do your work as well as you can. Keep yourself always open to me. That is all that is asked from you.”

So it's the 30th of May, 1956. We're sitting in Mother's class; we're sitting on the sands of the Ashram Playground. Around us are many ashramites; the students are in front. Mother has finished reading her French translation of Sri Aurobindo's The Synthesis of Yoga. And we hear the voice of a girl, and she reads part of the sentence which they printed...

30 May 1956[8]

The Synthesis of Yoga, Part I, Chapter V:
“The Ascent of the Sacrifice – 1:
The Works of Knowledge – The Psychic Being”

Ch.5 The Ascent of the Sacrifice – 1.jpg
PDF (24 pages)

“The Yogin’s aim in the sciences that make for knowledge should be to discover and understand the workings of the Divine Consciousness-Puissance in man and creatures and things and forces, her creative significances, her execution of the mysteries, the symbols in which she arranges the manifestation.”[9]

I have already told you, explained to you, that outer forms, if looked at not in themselves, for themselves, in their outer appearance alone, but as the expression of a deeper and more lasting reality, all these forms — as indeed all circumstances and events — all become symbolic of the Force which is behind and uses them to express itself. There is not a single circumstance, not a form, not an action, not a movement which is not symbolic of something deeper, something which stands behind and which, normally, ought to animate all action.


For a certain state of consciousness there is not a single word, not a gesture, not an action which does not express a deeper or higher reality, more lasting, more essential, more true; and once one has seen and felt that, everything takes on a meaning, and one sees more clearly how things ought to be organised, arranged, so that a deeper truth may express itself still better than it does at present.


[Sweet Mother, here it is written:] “The Yogin’s aim in the Arts should not be a mere aesthetic, mental or vital gratification, but, seeing the Divine everywhere, worshipping it with a revelation of the meaning of its works, to express that One Divine in gods and men and creatures and objects.”[10]
How can we “express that One Divine”?

It depends on the subject one wants to express: gods, men or things.

When one paints a picture or composes music or writes poetry, each one has his own way of expression. Every painter, every musician, every poet, every sculptor has or ought to have a unique, personal contact with the Divine, and through the work which is his speciality, the art he has mastered, he must express this contact in his own way, with his own words, his own colours. For himself, instead of copying the outer form of Nature, he takes these forms as the covering of something else, precisely of his relationship with the realities which are behind, deeper, and he tries to make them express that. Instead of merely imitating what he sees, he tries to make them speak of what is behind them, and it is this which makes all the difference between a living art and just a flat copy of Nature.

Mother contemplates a flower she is holding in her hand. It is the golden
champak flower (Michelia champaka).

Champak flower.jpg

Have you noticed this flower?

It has twelve petals in three rows of four.

We have called it “Supramental psychological perfection”.

I had never noticed that it had three rows: a small row like this, another one a little larger and a third one larger still. They are in gradations of four: four petals, four petals, four petals.

Well, if one indeed wants to see in the forms of Nature a symbolic expression, one can see a centre which is the supreme Truth, and a triple manifestation — because four indicates manifestation — in three superimposed worlds: the outermost — these are the largest petals, the lightest in colour — that is a physical world, then a vital world and a mental world, and then at the centre, the supramental Truth.

And you can discover all kinds of other analogies.

Is that all?

[(And then we hear the voice of one of the older disciples. We can't tell if it's that disciple who asks most of the questions – but it is an older disciple:)]
Mother, about the division of works, Sri Aurobindo writes here: “A Yoga turned towards an all-embracing realisation of the Supreme will not despise the works or even the dreams, if dreams they are, of the Cosmic Spirit or shrink from the splendid toil and many-sided victory which he has assigned to himself in the human creature. But its first condition for this liberality is that our works in the world too must be part of the sacrifice offered to the Highest and to none else, to the Divine Shakti and to no other Power, in the right spirit and with the right knowledge, by the free soul and not by the hypnotised bondslave of material Nature. If a division of works has to be made, it is between those that are nearest to the heart of the sacred flame and those that are least touched or illumined by it because they are more at a distance, or between the fuel that burns strongly or brightly and the logs that if too thickly heaped on the altar may impede the ardour of the fire by their damp, heavy and diffused abundance.”[11]

[What is it?]

[(We hear pages being turned. And he reads a little more, and then he asks:)]
Psychologically, to what does this division correspond in our life?

I suppose it is different for each one. So each one must find those activities which increase his aspiration, his consciousness, his deeper knowledge of things, and those which, on the contrary, mechanise him and bring him back more thoroughly into a purely material relation with things.

It is difficult to make a general rule.

That means that everything ought to be done exactly, as an offering?

Truly speaking, it depends more on the way of doing a thing than on the thing itself.

You take up some work which is quite material, like cleaning the floor or dusting a room; well, it seems to me that this work can lead to a very deep consciousness if it is done with a certain feeling for perfection and progress; while other work considered of a higher kind as, for example, studies or literary and artistic work, if done with the idea of seeking fame or for the satisfaction of one’s vanity or for some material gain, will not help you to progress. So this is already a kind of classification which depends more on the inner attitude than on the outer fact. But this classification can be applied to everything.

Of course, there is a kind of work which is done only for purely pecuniary and personal reasons, like the one — whatever it may be — which is done to earn a living. That attitude is exactly the one Sri Aurobindo compares with the damp logs of wood which are heaped so thick the flame cannot leap up. It has something dark and heavily dull about it.

And this brings us to something which I have already told you several times, but which presents a problem not yet solved by circumstances. I think I have already spoken to you about it, but still I shall speak about it again this evening because of this sentence of Sri Aurobindo’s.

At the beginning of my present earthly existence I came into contact with many people who said that they had a great inner aspiration, an urge towards something deeper and truer, but that they were tied down, subjected, slaves to that brutal necessity of earning their living, and that this weighed them down so much, took up so much of their time and energy that they could not engage in any other activity, inner or outer. I heard this very often, I saw many poor people — I don’t mean poor from the monetary point of view, but poor because they felt imprisoned in a material necessity, narrow and deadening.

I was very young at that time, and I always used to tell myself that if ever I could do it, I would try to create a little world — oh! quite a small one, but still... a small world where people would be able to live without having to be preoccupied with food and lodging and clothing and the imperative necessities of life, so as to see whether all the energies freed by this certainty of a secure material living would turn spontaneously towards the divine life and the inner realisation.

Well, towards the middle of my life — at least, what is usually the middle of a human life — the means were given to me and I could realise this, that is, create such conditions of life. And I have come to this conclusion, that it is not this necessity which hinders people from consecrating themselves to an inner realisation, but that it is a dullness, a tamas, a lack of aspiration, a miserable laxity, an I-don’t-care attitude, and that those who face even the hardest conditions of life are sometimes the ones who react most and have the intensest aspiration.

That’s all. I am waiting for the contrary to be proved to me.

I would very much like to see the contrary but I haven’t yet seen it. As there are many energies which are not utilised, since this terrible compulsion of having something to eat or a roof to sleep under or clothes on one’s back does not exist — as one is sure of all that — there is a whole mass of energies which are not utilised for that; well, they are spent in idle stupidities. And of these, the foolishness which seems to me the most disastrous is to keep one’s tongue going: [chatter, chatter,] chatter, chatter, chatter. [(Or, if you take the full meaning of bavarder: “gossip, gossip, gossip, gossip, gossip”.)] I haven’t known a place where they chatter [gossip] more than here, and say everything they should not say, busy themselves with things they should not be concerned with. And I know it is merely an overflow of unused energy.

That is all.

So the division in works is perhaps not quite what one thinks....

[(A fairly long-ish silence)]

[(The children start to laugh a very little. And Mother says in English:)]

[I think we must stop.]

[(And then in French:)]

[We won't have a meditation this evening. There's a risk of a cloudy meditation.]

Le 30 mai 1956[12]

« Dans les sciences consacrées à la recherche de la connaissance, le but du yogi doit être de découvrir et de comprendre les opérations de la divine Conscience-Puissance dans l’homme, dans les créatures, les choses et les forces, ses significations créatrices, son exécution des mystères, les symboles en lesquels elle arrange la manifestation. »

Je vous ai déjà dit, expliqué que les formes extérieures, si on les regarde non pas en elles-mêmes, pour elles-mêmes, dans leur apparence extérieure seulement, mais comme l’expression d’une réalité plus profonde et durable, toutes ces formes (comme toutes les circonstances et tous les événements), tout devient symbolique de la Force qui est derrière et qui se sert d’eux pour s’exprimer. Il n’est pas une circonstance, pas une forme, pas une action, pas un mouvement qui ne soit symbolique de quelque chose de plus profond qui se tient là derrière et qui, normalement, devrait animer toutes les actions.

Pour un certain état de conscience, il n’y a pas un mot, pas un geste, pas une action qui ne soit expressive d’une réalité plus profonde ou plus haute, plus durable, plus essentielle, plus vraie ; et une fois que l’on a vu et que l’on a senti cela, toute chose prend une signification, et on voit plus clairement comment les choses devraient être organisées, arrangées pour qu’une vérité plus profonde puisse s’exprimer encore mieux qu’elle ne s’exprime.

« Dans les arts, le but du yogi ne doit pas être une simple satisfaction esthétique, mentale ou vitale, mais,puisqu’il voit le Divin partout, [...] d’exprimer cet Un divin dans les dieux, les hommes, les créatures et les choses. »
Comment peut-on « exprimer cet Un divin » ?

Cela dépend du sujet que l’on veut exprimer : les dieux, les hommes ou les choses.

Quand on fait un tableau, ou quand on fait de la musique, ou quand on écrit de la poésie, chacun a sa manière de dire. Chaque peintre, chaque musicien, chaque poète, chaque sculpteur a un contact, ou devrait avoir un contact unique, personnel avec le Divin ; et à travers le métier qui lui est propre, l’art qu’il a maîtrisé, il doit exprimer ce rapport à sa manière, avec ses propres mots, ses propres couleurs. Pour lui, au lieu de copier la forme extérieure de la Nature, il prend ces formes comme le revêtement de quelque chose d’autre, justement de sa relation avec les réalités qui sont derrière, plus profondes, et il essaye de leur faire exprimer cela. Au lieu de juste imiter ce qu’il voit, il essaye de leur faire dire ce qui est derrière elles, et c’est ce qui fait la différence entre un art vivant et puis juste une plate copie de la Nature.

Mère contemple une fleur qu’elle tient à la main. Il s’agit de la fleur
du frangipanier doré (Michelia champaka).

Champak flower.jpg

Vous avez remarqué cette fleur ?

Elle a douze pétales en trois rangées de quatre.

Nous avons dit que c’était la « Perfection Psychologique Supramentale ».

Je n’avais jamais remarqué qu’elle avait trois rangées : une petite rangée comme cela, une un peu plus grande et une encore plus grande. Elles sont en alternance de quatre : quatre pétales, quatre pétales, quatre pétales.

Eh bien, si l’on veut voir justement dans les formes de la Nature une expression symbolique, on peut voir un centre, qui est la Vérité suprême, et une triple manifestation (parce que quatre, c’est la manifestation) dans trois mondes superposés : les plus extérieurs (ce sont les plus grands pétales, les plus clairs), c’est un monde physique, puis un monde vital et un monde mental, et puis au centre il y a la Vérité supramentale.

Et vous pouvez retrouver toutes sortes d’autres analogies.

C’est tout ?

Mère, à propos de la division des oeuvres, Sri Aurobindo écrit ici : « Un yoga qui cherche une réalisation intégrale du Suprême, ne méprisera pas les oeuvres ni même les rêves (si rêves ce sont) de l’Esprit cosmique, il ne reculera pas devant l’effort splendide et la victoire variée que l’Esprit s’est assignés à lui-même dans la créature humaine. Mais la condition première de ce libéralisme est que nos oeuvres dans le monde fassent aussi partie du sacrifice offert au Très-Haut, et à nul autre, à la Shakti divine et à nulle autre Puissance, dans l’esprit vrai et avec la connaissance vraie, par une âme libre et non par un esclave hypnotisé et enchaîné à la Nature matérielle. Si l’on doit faire une division parmi les oeuvres, c’est entre celles qui sont les plus proches du coeur de la flamme sacrée et celles qui sont le moins touchées ou illuminées par elle, parce qu’elles en sont plus éloignées ; ou entre le brasier qui chauffe avec puissance et éclat, et les bûches humides qui, trop entassées et trop serrées sur l’autel, peuvent nuire à l’ardeur du feu par leur abondance diffuse et leur lourdeur. »
À quoi cette division correspond-elle, psychologiquement, dans notre vie ?

Je suppose que pour chacun c’est différent. Alors, chacun doit trouver les activités qui augmentent son aspiration, sa conscience, sa connaissance profonde des choses, et puis celles qui, au contraire, le mécanisent et le ramènent plus complètement à une relation purement matérielle avec les choses.

Il est difficile de faire une règle générale.

C’est-à-dire que chaque chose doit être faite d’une façon exacte, comme une offrande ?

À vrai dire, cela dépend plus de la manière de faire la chose que de la chose elle-même.

Vous prenez un travail tout à fait matériel, comme de nettoyer un parquet ou d’enlever la poussière dans une chambre, eh bien, il me semble, moi, que ce travail-là peut conduire vers une conscience très profonde s’il est fait avec un certain sens de la perfection et du progrès ; tandis que d’autres travaux qui sont réputés d’ordre supérieur, comme par exemple des travaux d’études ou des travaux littéraires et artistiques, s’ils sont faits pour la recherche de la gloire ou d’une satisfaction d’amourpropre ou d’un bien matériel, ils ne vous aident pas à progresser. Alors, cela fait déjà un genre de classification qui dépend plus de l’attitude intérieure que du fait extérieur. Mais cette classification-là peut s’appliquer à tout.

Naturellement, il y a un genre de travail que l’on ne fait que pour une raison purement lucrative et personnelle, comme celui (quel qu’il soit) que l’on fait pour gagner sa vie. Cette attitude-là est justement celle que Sri Aurobindo compare aux morceaux de bois mouillés, qui sont trop entassés et d’où la flamme ne peut pas jaillir. Cela a quelque chose d’humide et d’abrutissant.

Et ceci nous amène à quelque chose que je vous ai dit déjà plusieurs fois, mais qui pose un problème que les circonstances n’ont pas encore résolu. Je crois que je vous en ai déjà parlé, mais enfin je vous en reparle ce soir, à cause de cette phrase de Sri Aurobindo.

Au commencement de mon existence terrestre actuelle, j’ai été mise en rapport avec beaucoup de gens qui disaient avoir une grande aspiration intérieure, un élan vers quelque chose de plus profond et de plus vrai, mais qu’ils étaient liés, soumis, esclaves de cette nécessité brutale de gagner leur vie, et que cela les alourdissait tellement, leur prenait tant de temps et tant d’énergie qu’ils ne pouvaient se livrer à aucune autre activité, intérieure ou extérieure. J’ai entendu cela très souvent, j’ai vu beaucoup de pauvres gens — je ne dis pas pauvres au point de vue monétaire, mais de pauvres gens parce qu’ils se sentaient emprisonnés dans une nécessité matérielle étroite et abrutissante.

J’étais très jeune de ce temps-là, et je m’étais toujours dit que, si jamais je pouvais le faire, je tâcherais de créer un petit monde — oh ! tout petit, mais enfin —, un petit monde où les gens pourraient vivre sans avoir à se préoccuper de la nourriture, du logement, du vêtement et des nécessités impérieuses de la vie, afin de voir si toutes les énergies, libérées par cette certitude de l’existence matérielle assurée, se tourneraient spontanément vers la vie divine et vers la réalisation intérieure.

Eh bien, vers le milieu de mon existence — enfin, ce qui est généralement le milieu d’une existence humaine —, ce moyen m’a été donné et j’ai pu réaliser cela, c’est-à-dire créer des conditions de vie comme cela. Et je suis arrivée à cette conclusion que ce n’est pas cette nécessité qui empêche les gens de se consacrer à une réalisation intérieure, que c’est une veulerie, c’est un tamas, c’est un manque d’aspiration, c’est un laisser-aller misérable, un je-m’en-fichisme, et que ceux qui ont même les conditions de vie les plus difficiles sont quelquefois ceux qui réagissent le plus et qui ont l’aspiration la plus intense.

Voilà. J’attends qu’il me soit prouvé le contraire.

J’aimerais beaucoup voir le contraire, mais je ne l’ai pas encore vu. Comme il y a beaucoup d’énergies qui ne sont pas utilisées, puisque cette compulsion terrible d’avoir ce qu’il faut pour manger ou un toit pour dormir ou des vêtements pour se mettre sur le dos n’existe pas, comme on est sûr d’avoir tout cela, il y a toute une masse d’énergies qui ne sont pas employées à cela ; eh bien, on les emploie à faire des bêtises. Et l’une des bêtises qui me semble être la plus désastreuse, c’est de faire marcher sa langue : bavarder, bavarder, bavarder. Je n’ai pas connu d’endroit où l’on bavarde plus qu’ici, et pour dire toutes les choses que l’on ne devrait pas dire, pour s’occuper de toutes les choses dont on ne devrait pas s’occuper. Et je sais que c’est tout simplement un débordement d’énergie inutilisée.


Alors, la division n’est peut-être pas tout à fait celle que l’on croit...

  1. Letters on Himself and the Ashram, p.803
  2. Ibid.
  3. Ibid.
  4. Ibid., p.601
  5. Ibid., p.603
  6. Ibid., p.632
  7. Ibid., p.705
  8. Questions and Answers 1956, p.157
  9. The Synthesis of Yoga, p.134
  10. Ibid., p.142
  11. Ibid., p.141
  12. Entretiens 1956, p.177