July 1967 |
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05. July 1967 – The Consciousness of Harmony |
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On Sunday (evening), before going to bed, I complained (I can't say I complained very seriously, but you know, like when one is in a grumpy mood), I complained, saying, "But since You want me to manifest You, why do you allow me to feel so out of sorts!" There were all kinds of inconveniences — small ones, naturally, but when there are lots of them they add up to inconvenience full stop. So (laughing) I was grumbling! It lasted for the space of a second or two, after that I laughed! But I grumbled, I protested. As if it (the body) were telling me, "Why all these — yes, why all these painful operations?" So I immediately gave myself a sound slap, saying to myself, "You are still full of vanity, you've got what you deserve!" Then it was over. But that's indeed the way it is and it's true, it's true, everything looks, oh, very serious, very difficult, very complicated, very... while if we were less stupid, it could probably be very easy and swift! It's clearly because of our own stupidity, without a shadow of doubt. (long silence) Just these last few days (because of all kinds of things — people, and things that happen), I have been increasingly seeing that the human concept of divine Omnipotence is the concept of an omnipotence which would operate without rhyme or reason, through a succession of whims, any old how — that's what people call "Omnipotence": being able to do the most stupid things at will. Obviously, that doesn't quite conform to a higher Harmony (!) Human beings are like that: if the god they worship or the divine they want to manifest isn't willing to do, to execute whatever comes into their heads in a totally incoherent and arbitrary way, he isn't all-powerful! I am exaggerating it to make it more perceptible; it's not like that: they deceive themselves (if you tell them that, they protest), but they deceive themselves, and it comes down to what I've just said. When you succeed in going into that Consciousness of Harmony (but not an individual or local harmony), a Universal Harmony — even ultra-universal, in which the universe is only one part — then values change completely, completely.... (Mother shakes her head and remains in contemplation) All things are so simple and at the same time so COMPLEX.... For instance, that relationship of simplicity (like that of a child) in which you very simply ask for the thing you feel the need for, but without mental complications; without explanations, without justifications, without all that useless farrago — simply, "Oh, I would like..." You have, for instance, quite a special feeling towards someone or something and you would like that someone or something to be perfectly harmonious, happy (which physically is expressed by good health or favourable circumstances), and so, spontaneously, simply, you say, "Oh!..." (you pray), "Oh, may it be like that!" And it happens. Then the thought (the general human thought): "This has happened, therefore it's the expression of the Truth." And it becomes a principle: "This is true, this is the way things should be." But up above, in that Consciousness — that global Consciousness — in that total Harmony, those things in themselves, in their material expression ("good health," "favourable circumstances") are of no more than minor importance, so to say, of almost nonexistent importance: things may be this way or that or this (they may be a hundred different ways), without its making any difference to the Harmony; but this particular way is chosen because of the simple, pure, candid beauty of the aspiration — that is lovely, that is powerful in its simplicity. And, you know, without mental complication, without hypocrisy of any sort, without pretence of any sort: very simply, but from a luminous, pure, loving heart, without any egoism, "just like that." So that's a lovely light which has its place; and because of it, things may be this way or that (good health, favourable circumstances), it doesn't matter, it's unimportant. Human beings attach importance only to the external form, to what has manifested; they say, "Oh, this is true, since it is" — and it's ... a passing breath of air. But the cause of it, its origin has a place in that total, universal Harmony: a disinterested goodwill, love devoid of egoism, trust that doesn't argue or reason, simplicity — ingenious simplicity for which evil doesn't exist. If we could catch hold of that and keep it... That trust for which evil doesn't exist — not "trust" in what takes place here: trust up above, in that all-powerful principle of Harmony. (long silence, then Mother repeats this prayer:) Glory to You, O Lord, all-triumphant Supreme, Grant that nothing in us shall be an obstacle to Your work, Grant that everything in us may be ready for Your manifestation. |
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12. July 1967 – The power to heal |
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One thing that seems to be trying to come is the power to heal. But not at all as it's described, it's not that at all — it doesn't give the impression of "healing," you understand. It's ... (Mother searches for words) putting things in order. But that's not it either.... It's a little something that disappears, and that little something is ... essentially it's the Falsehood. It's very strange. Basically, it's what gives the ordinary human consciousness the sense of reality. That's what must disappear. What we call "concrete," a "concrete reality"... yes, what truly gives you the sense of real existence — that's what must disappear and be replaced by... It's inexpressible. (silence) Now I can follow. I remember, when I came back after having BEEN those bursts — those pulsations, those bursts of creative Love, when I returned to the ordinary consciousness (while retaining the very real memory of That, of that state), well, that state, which I felt as pulsations of creative Love, is what must, is That which must replace here this consciousness of concrete reality — which is, which becomes unreal: it's like something lifeless — hard, dry, inert, lifeless. And to our ordinary consciousness (I remember how it was in the past), that's what gives you the impression, "This is concrete, this is real." Well, "this," this sensation, is what must be replaced by the phenomenon of consciousness of that Pulsation. And That (Mother makes an intense gesture encompassing her entire face) is at the same time all-light, all-power, all-intensity of love, and such FULLNESS! It's so full that... nothing else can exist but That, there too (in Matter). And when That is there, in the body, in the cells, it suffices to focus That on someone or something, and order is instantly restored. So, expressed in ordinary words, it "cures." It cures the illness. But it doesn't "cure" it: it annuls it.... Yes, it annuls it. Absolutely. I have concrete proof of it. Any illness, any illness whatsoever. (silence) And the condition of all the cells (the vibrations that make up this body) is undeniably what makes the thing (the cure) possible or not; that is, depending on the body's condition, it serves either as a transmitter, or on the contrary as an obstruction. Because it's not a "higher force" acting in others THROUGH Matter: it's a direct action (horizontal gesture, on the same level) from matter to matter. What people generally call "healing power" is a very great mental or vital power that imposes itself through the resistance of Matter — but this isn't that at all! It's the contagion of a vibration. And then it's irrevocable. But it's gone in a flash. It's only a promise or an example of what will be: it WILL be like that, obviously. Obviously. When?... That's another question. (silence) Right here, this Vibration is felt as... (Mother gestures as if everything were swelling). You understand, it [the body's ordinary condition] is tied, it's tied and bound, you might say hardened, I don't know; and at such times, it seems to swell, to expand. Only, it's momentary. (Mother wrote a note) "Instead of excluding each other, religions should complement each other." Sri Aurobindo said that to me; it's so simple, so simple! I was looking at all those religions, seeing them as facets, innumerable facets that harden and brace themselves against each other, and he seemed to be saying, "Well, put it all together and it will be so simple!" Just one sentence, not one word more. |
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08. July 1967 – Burn the past with the fire of aspiration |
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I said, "Well, that's what you should do with your past: burn it with the fire of aspiration." Otherwise, you always remain hitched and fastened, a slave everywhere, with millstones around our necks. But I tell you, later I realized that if I didn't burn my papers myself, the others kept the pieces!... There were things on which I had written "To be destroyed if I were to leave this body," "Destroy without opening." Then I realized I couldn't trust anyone! So I destroyed them myself. |
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15. July 1967 – P. Richard’s death |
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...The day the child was born, there came a telegram from America (dating from the day before) announcing the death of Paul Richard. The two things came together. I was surprised. I must admit I said, "Well, well!..." Because Paul Richard (unless he fell into complete stupor after I left him, I don't know!), I had given him much occult knowledge, including the ability to leave his body and enter another. So... It's not impossible. And for some time (for about a week), I'd been seeing his thought coming here and hovering about, like that. That is to say the news of his death was no surprise to me. But what I found interesting was this: the coincidence of the telegram and the birth. The (child's) present form cannot reflect it (Richard): it's something that will develop in that direction little by little. We'll see. For the moment, he is really his father's and mother's son! Interesting children, those that are born now. |
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15. July 1967 – The psychic memory |
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The psychic memory is a sifted memory of events. In previous lives, for instance, there were moments when, for some reason or other, the psychic was present and took part, and so it keeps the memory of just one circumstance. But the memory it keeps is the PSYCHIC life of that moment; so even if it retains the memory of an image, it is a simplified image, translated in the psychic consciousness and according to the psychic vibration of all those present. He wouldn't ask such a question if he had ever had a psychic memory, because when you have one it's perfectly obvious. Before I had the knowledge, before I met Théon and knew about those things, I had had memories that had always struck me because of their special character.... It was like having, not exactly an emotion, but a certain emotive vibration of a circumstance. And that's what is full, what remains and lasts. And along with that, you have a perception — a bit vague, a bit fuzzy — of the people who were there, of the circumstances, the events, and that makes up a psychic memory. What remains often the events that the mind regards as the most memorable or the most important in a life, but the moments when the psychic took part — consciously took part in the occurrence. That's what remains. I could have narrated many such memories, it's very interesting. I had many in Italy. I travelled in Italy with my mother when I was fifteen, and I had lived a past life in Italy which was very conscious. Upon seeing the places, that (the psychic vibration of emotion) would spring up suddenly. And it would come along with the image.... What's in the foreground is the psychic movement (the word "emotion" isn't good, but anyway), it's the psychic movement which is in front and is important — that's what comes; the rest is like a background reflection: that is, forms, situations, circumstances.... I noted some down. Did you ever see something I wrote about a life in Italy? An old, old thing that I had written.... At fifteen — I had that experience when I was fifteen. I don't even know where I put it away, I don't think that paper is with me, I don't know where it is.... I narrated it a little later. When I met Théon, I understood my experience because it was explained to me (I didn't say the thing, but I understood afterwards, once I knew the states of being, their working and all that), so I understood that was what a psychic memory was. Before I knew anything mentally, I had had a considerable number of memories from past lives, but in that way: real psychic memories, not mental fabrications. And what comes first is emotion ("emotion": the psychic feeling), it's vivid, strong, you know, very strong; then, as a sort of background setting, there are the forms, appearances, circumstances, with something like the quality of a nebulous memory, and they come along with the psychic feeling. I had that experience in Italy when I was fifteen, while travelling with my mother, and it struck me very much — it was very striking indeed! It was the memory of having been strangled in the Doges' prison. Quite a story. Afterwards I enquired; I enquired about the names, the facts, the events (I was able to enquire in Italy about what had happened — it was in Venice — and it tallied marvellously). But the interesting thing, from an external point of view... I was visiting the entire Palazzo ducale with my mother and a group of travellers shown about by a guide: they take you underground, where the prisons were located. Then the guide started telling a story (which didn't interest me) when, all of a sudden, I was seized by a kind of force that came into me, and then, without even — without even being aware of it, I went to a corner and saw a written word. It was... But then, there came at the same time the memory that I had written it. And the whole scene came back: I was the one who had written that word on the wall (and I saw it, saw it with my physical eyes, the writing was still there; the guide said that all the walls with writings on them made by the Doges' prisoners had been kept intact). Then the scene went on: I saw, I had the sensation of people entering and catching hold of me (I was there with a prisoner — I wasn't the prisoner: I was visiting him). I was there, and then some people came and seized me and... (gesture to the neck) tied me up. And then (I was with a whole group of about ten people listening to the guide, near a small aperture opening onto the canal), then, the sensation of being lifted and thrown through that aperture.... Well, you understand, I was fifteen, so naturally...! I told my mother, "Let's get out of here!" (Mother laughs) It was hard to restrain myself. We left. But afterwards I made enquiries, I questioned and researched (we had some family there, I knew some people), and I found out it was absolutely true. It was a true story, with the names and all (now it's all gone). A doge had imprisoned his predecessor's son as a living danger to him, as he had tried to take his father's place. So the doge, who had taken the father's place, sent the son to prison. But the daughter of this doge was in love with the son, and she found a way to go and visit him. Then the doge, in his rage, decided to have her drowned. The whole story was there. And it was really spontaneous: I knew nothing of it (it's the kind of story they don't teach you in another country, they're known only locally). There you are, I found it very interesting. But the very interesting part was that thing which told me, "Over there." I went and saw, and found written on the wall precisely what I remembered having myself written. I've had many such memories, a great many, but that one was interesting, so that I know precisely the nature of the things that remain, that are part of the development of the psychic being. There was another experience I had a little later (a little later, around eighteen or nineteen), in which I suddenly found myself riding a horse, dressed as a man, leading armies to a fantastic victory; and it was the glory of the sense of the presence of the Force of Victory that made me lead the entire army to victory. Afterwards, I remembered the costume I was wearing, the people's costumes, everything, and... I saw it was Murat's famous victory. I was... (how can I put it?) the victorious spirit in Murat. And ONLY THAT. So when people tell you, "I was this person, that person," it's all tales: they are forces, states of consciousness that manifested in certain individuals at certain moments in their lives and which, at such moments, touched Matter concretely. And all that is gathered, collected together little by little, gradually, until it produces a conscious being. Now, this (Mother's being) is a rather special conscious being.... The psychic of this life (laughing) was rather collective! Memories of Catherine the Great, memories of Elizabeth, memories of two lives at the same time (!) at the time of Francis I, memories... innumerable memories, and quite diverse. Each one... It's not that you were in such or such person for a whole life: you were the important psychic MOMENT in those existences. I stopped taking any interest in all that when I came here — it was part of the occult knowledge, not of spiritual knowledge. I stopped taking any interest in it. But now that everything is being gathered together, it comes like that, like a part of the work, because... the cells, when I had those visions, participated to some extent in the sense that they had the vibration in themselves; so all those vibrations have participated in the formation of all these cells, and now they relive it all. It gives them a possibility of breadth, of diversity, of synthesis and coordination of many, many things. And the sense of having thus lived for a long, long, long time. (silence) I don't generally talk about these things because it fastens people to the past: they try to relive what they lived, so you understand, that spoils everything. But it's a sort of sensation I have: it doesn't correspond to anything here (gesture to the head), it's a sensation, the sensation of an atmosphere, or rather, of a kind of vibration which has already been felt, and so can easily be traced back to when and where. Oh, there are amusing things. Egypt was an extremely occult age, at that time they really had occult knowledge. So that gives you a power over the invisible, you can act there consciously. There was one thing (which I told you, I think): at one moment (it didn't last long), but for a few days, there was a sort of need to know how people spoke, the sounds that were used. If I had insisted, it would probably have come: how I used to say things, how that consciousness used to express itself.... That hasn't been preserved. Our age will be far more durable in memory... if things aren't destroyed — we'll just have to turn on a machine. Unfortunately, there won't be much worth preserving from our age! Oh!... That's a remarkable thing: in every age, and probably on the contrary, the farther you go into the past, there's a jumble, a clutter of quite uninteresting things — which disappear. They disappear, they are destroyed. There only remains what had an interesting inner life. So the past seems to us much more interesting than the present, but from our age all the clutter will also disappear and be dissolved in the same way, and only the best will remain, except if they use mechanical means to preserve lots of recordings of lots of stupidities. But otherwise.... I have, for instance, an impression (a strong impression) that in the Assyrian age they had a means, they had found a means to record and preserve sound. It must have been destroyed, it disappeared. But it's a very strong impression, linked to certain memories and (psychic) impressions like the ones I said: they aren't ideas, but... [vibrations]. There was a capacity to make the invisible speak, you understand. They had a machine. It must have been destroyed with the rest? The oldest memory that exists is the first Chinese attempts. It's in China that a machine to reproduce sound, to preserve and reproduce sound, was first found. The Chinese were very inventive. (silence) I had a very strong impression, which, so to speak, crystallized when I went to China (I know nothing of China: a city or two, a port or two, that's nothing; but still you pick up a bit of the atmosphere): the origin of those people is lunar. There must have been life on the moon, and these beings (or a few of them, I don't know) took refuge on the earth when the moon was dying. And that was the origin of the Chinese race. They are very peculiar.... They don't at all have the same kind of vital being as all the other human beings, not at all. Theirs is a strange vital. Cold: intellectual and cold. Cold. It's very insensitive. And the strange thing is that their sensitivity isn't the same at all, it's extremely dulled. |
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19. July 1967 – An existent contact |
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Just in these last few days I've had a series of experiences on that subject, very interesting experiences.... With the same person, whom I see every day, let's say, or very often, the impression of the contact (an impression that remains more or less) that depends on the presence of the psychic. With the same person, you understand, the same relationship, at certain times it becomes full and you have the sense of something... yes, full — not exactly "living," but... (I can't say "solid" because there's nothing hard about it), but full, substantial; then, at other times, it's thin, fleeting, neutral. And I have observed (with the same people in the same circumstances), at times you have the sense of a... more than living contact (the word "living" isn't enough), an EXISTENT contact, rather; an existent, durable contact (but not "durable" in time: durable in its nature); at other times with the very same people (often in the same circumstances), it's thin, flat, it's dry, superficial — it may be very active, apparently very living, but it has no depth.... And I have seen that it is when the psychic participates and when it doesn't. So I have now reached the point where every minute I can feel ("feel," I don't mean perceive psychically, I mean feel materially) when the psychic is there and when it isn't. It's very interesting. These last few days. And it makes all the difference, in the sense that... Well, it's like the difference between an image or a representation or a narration and the thing itself — between an image and the thing itself, between the narration and the thing itself. That's the difference. With the one, it EXISTS; with the other, it may be living, but it's... superficial and... momentary. And as I said the other day, it doesn't at all depend on the importance of what you are doing (importance according to the mental notion, of course), on the importance of what you are doing or the seriousness of the circumstance, none of all that: simply, the psychic is there or it isn't. That's all. Which amounts to saying that the CELLS THEMSELVES feel the difference, perceive the difference. I don't remember, because I don't note those things mentally, but it's an experience I have had with someone I see very often (maybe every day, I don't know, I forget who). One day, for a time, the impression of an existent relationship, full and... You could call it "comfortable," with a sense of security; the same person in the same circumstances: suddenly like an image of himself: hollow (very alive and mentally active), but hollow and dry, indifferent — nonexistent, so to say. That was a few days ago. I don't know who it was anymore. And it has given me the key to the whole-whole-whole problem. Basically, we could say that it's the difference between the same life, the same existence, the same organization — the same life on earth — with the Divine's Presence now perceptible, now unmanifest. And that's how it is from the point of view of the entire earth. (silence) This extraordinary impression of the unreality of suffering, unreality of illnesses, unreality... It's very strange. Then that whole millennial habit comes along and tries to deny and say... and say that it is the state you find yourself in which is unreal! So then, it's there. Because there is no mental action or thought or any such thing: it's all in the vibrations.... There are moments, you know, of inexpressible glory, but it's fleeting. And the other thing is there — it encompasses, presses, it... When you succeed in keeping the [material] mind absolutely inactive, it's relatively easier, but when the mind comes and assails, then... Then you almost have to use violence to repulse the onslaught, to establish silence. That's why until you reach that state in which the mind can be like this (calm gesture), absolutely still... When there is nothing except the consciousness, then it's all right. Before that, it seems impossible, an impossible work. But when the mind is replaced by the consciousness, then it becomes more... |
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22. July 1967 – Mother’s reply on letters |
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"To man, God is too slow in answering his prayer. "To God, man is too slow in opening to His influence. "But to the Truth-Consciousness, everything is going as it should!" "The role of music lies in helping the consciousness to uplift itself towards the spiritual heights. "All that lowers the consciousness, encourages desires and excites the passions runs counter to the true goal of music and ought to be avoided. "It is not a question of designation but of inspiration... Yes, because he says "light music," but I've heard light music that I found exceedingly lovely! Even some pieces of film music that were magnificent, and on the other hand some "classical" pieces, oh, how boring! So... "... and the spiritual consciousness alone can judge there." The Force at work Mother turns to other tasks: In a magazine (I think it's Life, an American magazine), they published the story of a man (who is in fact one of the editors or administrators of the magazine), a man who was given an injection of penicillin and who was allergic to penicillin. And lo and behold, suddenly all his cells begin to dissolve, while he, entirely conscious and as if concentrated in his brain, watches the dissolution. When it reached up to the heart, the doctors declared him dead.... The impression it had on him was that the cells had a kind of expanding movement, then burst and dissolved one after another: feet, legs, abdomen, everything. And when it reached the heart, the doctor said, "He's dead." But he had taken refuge in his brain and thought, "I must hold out; if I can hold out here, concentrate and resist here, all will be well." And that's what he did. Then he felt all at once a power, he says, something so luminous, so beautiful, so gentle, so... so much more full of love than anything else in the world, such a marvellous sensation... that he let himself melt into it, and after some time, everything was put in order and he came back to life! He describes that. He describes it (with sentences: it's in a magazine, so he makes sentences), but his experience is really interesting. You see, because of that will to concentrate in what he conceived to be the essential part of his being, the centre of his life, he suddenly found himself in the presence of that "power".... He said he tried to recapture it afterwards, but "I forget what it was, I no longer remember, except for the sensation, that sensation more marvellous than anything one can conceive." (Here is the person's description: "External awareness had slipped away — I heard, saw nothing. I sagged forward as my wife held my head to keep me from pitching from the chair. To the Doctor I had reached clinical death. But for me there was a surge of inner awareness — magnified, finely focused, brilliant. It is a progressive thing, this death. You feel the toes going first, then the feet, cell by cell, death churning them like waves washing the sands. Now the legs, the cells winking out. Closer now, and the visibility is better. Hands, arms, abdomen and chest, each cell flaring into a supernova, then gone. There is order and system in death, as in all that is life. I must try to control the progression, to save the brain for last so that it may know. Now the neck. The lower jaw. The teeth. How strange to feel one's teeth die, one by one, cell igniting cell, galaxies of cells dying in brilliance. Now, in retrospect, I grope for this other thing. There was something else, something that I felt or experienced or beheld at the very last instant. What was it? I knew it so well when it was there, opening before me, something more beautiful, more gentle, more loving than the mind or imagination of living creature could ever conceive. But it is gone." David Snell, Life Senior Editor (extract from Life, May 29, 1967).) The grey is the grey of spiritual light, spiritual aspiration; the red is the ruby red of the physical; and that emerald green...(According to Sri Aurobindo, the green light is a dynamic force of the vital which has the power to purify, harmonize or heal.) According to Sri Aurobindo, the green light is a dynamic force of the vital which has the power to purify, harmonize or heal. |
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26. July 1967 – The world of bad habits |
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"The goal we aim at is immortality. Of all habits, death is certainly the most inveterate!" We could call our world "the world of bad habits." There has been for some time, I don't know, a sort of benevolent, smiling and ... constructive irony. As if a "spirit" had come. Then, there is something else (but I know that one), which Sri Aurobindo used to call a censor. He told me, "You have a very strong censor in your atmosphere." It was all the time, constantly criticizing me; not so often now, but it's still there. And now and then, it tells me, "But you shock people! They expect something noble, great, imposing, and you always speak in an ironic tone!" Yesterday again, some people came to see me — and jokes keep coming to me all the time. I tell them jokes, and I watch... (laughing) they look appalled! As if that was constantly saying, "But don't take things seriously!... Don't take things seriously, don't take things seriously... that's what makes you unhappy! That's what makes you unhappy, it makes you unhappy, you must learn to smile," like that. And above all, to make fun of ourselves, that's the most important thing: to see how ridiculous we are — the slightest pain and we are full of self-pity, oh!... At times one protests.... It's a very odd atmosphere, and amusing. But it's a very good cure for that inveterate illness which is self-pity. The body is full of it, it pities itself as soon as there is the slightest trouble — and that aggravates it terribly. The teacher of literature... He was an old fellow full of all the most conventional ideas imaginable. What a bore he was, oh!... So all the students sat there, their noses to the grindstone. He would give subjects for essays — do you know The Path of Later On and the Road of Tomorrow? I wrote it when I was twelve, it was my homework on his question! He had given a proverb (now I forget the words) and expected to be told... all the sensible things! I told my story, that little story, it was written at the age of twelve. Afterwards he would eye me with misgivings! (Laughing) He expected me to make a scene.... Oh, but I was a good girl! But it was always like that: with that something looking on and seeing the sheer ridiculousness of this life which takes itself so seriously! All those things have come back these last few days, because of this affair. I can recall only one instance when I took things seriously, and even then (laughing), I put on a serious LOOK. It involved my brother, who was still quite young (my brother must have been twelve, or less: ten, and I eight — no, nine and eleven, something like that, mere children). My brother was quick-tempered, he was easily angered and would speak very bluntly, almost harshly. One day he talked back to my father (I forget about what); my father was furious and put him across his knees (my father was an extremely strong man, I mean physically strong), he put my brother across his knees and... (laughing) started spanking him; he had pulled his pants down and was spanking him. I enter and see that (it was taking place in the dining room), I see that, see my father, look at him, and say to myself, "But this man is mad!" And I told him, "You stop at once, or I'm leaving this house." (I was two years younger than my brother.) And I said it with such seriousness, oh! And I was resolute. And my father... (laughing) was flabbergasted. All those memories have come back like that. So now I remember to what extent — to what extent the consciousness was already there. But it was amusing. (silence) And the ease: whatever I wanted to do I could do. But there was one thing (now I understand, at the time I didn't know why it was so): whatever I wanted to do I could do, but after a time, I had experienced the thing and it didn't seem to me important enough to devote a whole life to it. So I would move on to something else: painting, music, science, literature... everything, and also practical things. And always with extraordinary ease. Then, after a while, very well, I would leave it. So my mother (she was a very stern person) would say, "My daughter is incapable of seeing anything through to the end." And it remained like that: incapable of seeing anything through to the end — always taking to something, then leaving it, then after a time taking to something else.... "Unstable. Unstable — she will never achieve anything in life!" (Mother laughs) And it was really the childlike transcription of the need for ever more, ever better, ever more, ever better... endlessly — the sense of advancing, advancing towards perfection. A perfection that I felt to be quite beyond anything people thought of — something... a "something"... which was indefinable, but which I sought through everything. So all that has come back to be sorted out, put in its place, offered (gesture upward), and now, it's over. |
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