October 11, 1968
(Mother is still unwell.)
Do you have anything to say? (Mother coughs)
I wouldn’t like to make you talk.
It doesn’t matter.
I don’t know why, a thought has been coming to me….
Tell me.
This process of transformation, one does feel it must take
place in the body, but might it not rather be after all a sort of
condensation of power progressively building up around you
or behind you, which would one day materialize into a being?
It’s possible – it’s possible, the thought occurred to me too. Then? Go on.
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That’s all … that image came to me: a condensation of you.
Somewhat like, you know, that story (on quite a lower level)
of the stones that “consensed” in the courtyard of the Guest-
House, when stones were thrown into the Guest-House. [[A cook who had been dismissed went to a fakir (or Muslim Tantric) to get revenge. For several weeks in a row, at certain times of the day stones rained in the courtyard of the Guest-House: a disciple even had his arm injured. It was a condensation of vital forces. Amrita picked up some of those stones and preserved them to study them scientifically, but they were real stones, whose only peculiarity was that they were covered with moss all over. That was in 1921. Sri Aurobindo wrote a letter to Dilip on the subject (on February 2, 1943).]] But
instead of a lower magic, it would be a higher magic, if I may
say so: a luminous condensation of Truth.
(Mother remains in
contemplation till the end,
not saying anything)
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