March 21, 1973
What’s up?
I saw you last night.
(In a delighted tone) Aah!
Oddly enough, I was trying to devise – to invent or construct
-a new bed for you, as though yours wasn’t comfortable. A
bed that would allow you … yes, to be a little more comfor
table. I’ve no idea what it means!
I do. It’s very good! (laughter)
Very good.
(silence)
What’s the time? … What would you like? [[Mother means contemplative silence, naturally. ]]
Whatsoever you like.
No! … (laughing) I am at your disposal!
You don’t have anything to say?
I’ve noticed I am becoming extremely sensitive. The least
disturbance in the atmosphere and I get blows.
Oh, me too! And to such an extent that it makes me ill.
Yes, quite annoying it is. But there must be a radical remedy, I mean something that shelters you completely. That would be….
Personally, my solution is to curl up materially in the Divine. Only it’s difficult. It’s…. It can be done, but all this (zigzagging gesture in the air) makes a constant disturbance.
(Mother plunges in
holding Satprem’s hands)
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