Questions and Answers 1956
This is an experience. Do you know what an unlived dream
is?... I did not take the word “dream” in the sense of dreams at
night; I took theword dream to mean something one has built up
in the best and most clear-sighted part of one’s being, something
which is an ideal one would like to see realised, something higher,
more beautiful, more noble, more wonderful than all that has
been created, and one has a power of imagination or creation
somewhere in one’s consciousness and one builds something so
that it may be realised.
And then, for some reason or other, it is not realised. Either
the world was not ready or perhaps the formation was not
sufficient, but it is not realised. And so the hours pass, sterile,
unproductive—useless, vain, empty—they seem to fade away
because they have no result and no usefulness.
And so I said: “And the hours pass, fading away like unlived
dreams.”
(Silence)
I have received two questions. One is about a passage from The
Synthesis of Yoga where it is said:
This brings us back to the symbol of Krishna and Radha.
Krishna is the One of whom Sri Aurobindo speaks here, the
divine Flute-player, that is to say, the immanent and universal
Divine who is the supreme power of attraction; and the soul, the
psychic personality, called here Radha, who responds to the call
of the Flute-player. So I have been asked to say something this
evening on the Radha-consciousness, that is, in fact, on the way
in which the individual soul answers the call of the Divine.
It so happens that this is exactly what Sri Aurobindo has
described in the chapter we have just read: it is that capacity of
finding Ananda in all things through identification with the one
divine Presence and a complete self-giving to that Presence. So
I don’t think I have much to add; what I could say would be a
limitation or a diminution of the totality of this experience.
(After a silence) This consciousness has the capacity of
changing everything into a perpetual ecstasy, for instead of seeing
things in their discordant appearance, one now sees only
the divine Presence, the divine Will and the Grace everywhere;
and every event, every element, every circumstance, every form
changes into a way, a detail through which one can draw more
intimately and profoundly closer to the Divine. Discordances
disappear, ugliness vanishes; there is now only the splendour of
the divine Presence in a Love shining in all things.
It is obvious that from a practical point of view one must be
able to remain at a constant and unshakable height in order to
be in that state without exposing oneself to fairly troublesome
consequences. That is probably why those who wished to live
in this state used to withdraw from the world and find the universal
contact through Nature.... I must say, without meaning
to be unpleasant to men, that it is infinitely easier to realise this
state of consciousness when one is surrounded by trees, flowers,
plants and even animals than by human beings. It is easier but
not indispensable. And if one wants the state to be truly integral,
one must be able to keep it at every moment, in the presence of
anyone and anything.
There are countless legends or stories of this kind, like that
of Prahlad,1for instance, which we saw recently in a film, stories
which illustrate that state of consciousness. And I am not only
convinced, but I myself have the quite tangible experience that
if in the presence of some danger or an enemy or some ill-will,
you are able to remain in this condition and see the Divine in
all things, well, the danger will have no effect, the ill-will can do
nothing to you, and the enemy will either be transformed or run
away. That is quite certain.
But I must add a word which is quite important. You must
not seek this state of consciousness with any motive or seek
it because it is a protection or a help. You must have it sincerely,
spontaneously, constantly; it must be a normal, natural,
Otherwise, if you are really sincere, that is, if it is an integral
and spontaneous experience, it is all-powerful. If, looking into
somebody’s eyes, you can spontaneously see the divine Presence
there, the worst movements vanish, the worst obstacles disappear;
and the flame of an infinite joy awakes, sometimes in the
other person as well as in oneself. If in the other person there
is the least possibility or just a tiny rift in his ill-will, the flame
shines forth.
Sweet Mother, about Radha, in all the Vaishnavite stories
and in the accounts of many mystics, there are always
tears and anguish: “She wept and the Divine did not
come.... The Divine tormented her....” What does this
mean? She was integral purity, then why...
That is just on the way! That happens when one is still on the
way, when one has not reached the goal. They have that, they
insist a lot on this, for... for they like to prolong the human
road, simply because they enjoy this human road and because,
as I told you, if you want to remain in life, in contact with life, a
certain relativity necessarily remains in the experience. They like
it that way—they like to quarrel with the Divine, they like the
feeling of separation, these things give them pleasure! For they
remain in the human consciousness and want to remain there.
The moment there is perfect identification, all this disappears.
So, it is as though one were depriving oneself of the pleasure of
a drama! There is something that has gone out of life, that is,
its illusion. They still need a reasonable amount of illusion; they
can’t enter directly into the Truth.
In fact, for the feeling of separation to disappear, you must
have realised within yourself a perfect identity; and once this
perfect identity is realised, well, the story comes to an end, there
is nothing more to tell.
That is why it is said that if the world, if creation realised
its perfect identity with the Divine, there would no longer be
any creation. If you realise this perfect identity in which there is
no longer any possibility of distinction and if the entire universe
realised this perfect identity in which there is no longer any
possibility of distinction, well, there would no longer be any
universe. It would be a return to Pralaya.
So the solution is to find Ananda, even in the play, in this
exchange in which one both gives and receives, in which one
seems to be two; and that is why they keep the duality.
Otherwise, in identity, nothing remains but the identity. If
the identity is complete and perfect, there is no more objectivisation.
But I said this somewhere when speaking about the story
of love. I think nobody—oh! I don’t know—probably very
few people noticed the distinction. I said that it begins with the
Ananda of identity, and that after the full circuit of the creation,
it ends in the Ananda of union.2Well, if there had been no circuit,
there would never be the Ananda of union, there would only be
the Ananda of identity.Were there no circuit, there would be no
union.
This is perhaps a little subtle, but it is a fact: and perhaps
it is just in order that the Ananda of identity may find what
I might call its consummation and crowning in the Ananda of
union, that the whole circuit was made.
But if there is perfect identity, there can be no union, the
feeling of union does not exist, for it necessarily implies something
other than perfect identity. There can be perfect union but
there is no perfect identity.
Don’t try to understand with words and with your head, for
these two words express altogether different experiences. And
yet the result is the same, but one is rich with all that was not
in the other, the richness of the whole experience—the whole
universal experience.
If union is experienced consciously, why do some mystics
continue to have all kinds of emotions like ordinary
people, and weep and lament?
This is perhaps because the union is not constant.
But Radha is sincere in her aspiration.
If you ask me, I believe this is just literature, my children! Anyway,
it is certainly in order to give you an artistic picture of
human life as it is!
Vaishnavism is based on that.
But these people live in the vital and like it. Ah! one can’t talk
about that, because...
Well, I have another question here, a very small question,
but not without interest.
It is from someone who is trying to prepare himself to receive
the Supermind, and in this preparation, among other things
come prayer and meditation. And then there is this reflection
which is very frank and which very few would have the courage
to make. Here it is:
“I begin to meditate and pray ardently and fervently, my
aspiration is intense and my prayer full of devotion; and
then, after a certain length of time—sometimes short,
sometimes long—the aspiration becomes mechanical
and the prayer purely verbal. What should I do?”
This is not an individual case, it is extremely common. I have
already said this a number of times, but still it was in passing
—that people who claim to meditate for hours every day and
spend their whole day praying, to me it seems that three-fourths
of the time it must be absolutely mechanical; that is to say, it
loses all its sincerity. For human nature is not made for that and
the human mind is not built that way.
In order to concentrate and meditate one must do an exercise
which I could call the “mental muscle-building” of concentration.
One must really make an effort—as one makes a
muscular effort, for instance, to lift a weight—if you want the
concentration to be sincere and not artificial.
The same thing for the urge of prayer: suddenly a flame is
lit, you feel an enthusiastic ´elan, a great fervour, and express it in
words which, to be true, must be spontaneous. This must come
from the heart, directly, with ardour, without passing through
the head. That is a prayer. If there are just words jostling in
your head, it is no longer a prayer. Well, if you don’t throw
more fuel into the flame, after a time it dies out. If you do
not give your muscles time to relax, if you don’t slacken the
movement, your muscles lose the capacity of taking strains. So
it is quite natural, and even indispensable, for the intensity of the
movement to cease after a certain time. Naturally, someone who is
accustomed to lifting weights can do it much longer than one
who has never done it before. It is the same thing; someone who
is accustomed to concentration can concentrate much longer
than one who is not in the habit. But for everybody there comes
a time when one must let go, relax, in order to begin again.
Therefore, whether immediately or after a few minutes or a few
hours, if the movement becomes mechanical, it means that you
have relaxed and that you need no longer pretend that you are
meditating. It is better to do something useful.
If you cannot manage to do a little exercise, for instance, in
order to neutralise the effect of the mental tension, you may
read or try to note down what happened to you, you may
express things. Then that produces a relaxation, the necessary
relaxation. But the duration of the meditation is only relatively
important; its length simply shows how far you are accustomed
to this activity.
Of course, this may increase a great deal, but there is always
a limit; and when the limit is reached one must stop, that’s all. It
is not an insincerity, it is an incapacity. What becomes insincere
is if you pretend to meditate when you are no longer meditating
or you say prayers like many people who go to the temple or
to church, perform ceremonies and repeat their prayers as one
repeats a more or less well-learnt lesson. Then it is no longer
either prayer or meditation, it is simply a profession. It is not
interesting.
Just a while ago you said that if one can spontaneously
see the Divine in one’s enemy, the enemy is converted. Is
that true?
Not necessarily! I said: either he will be converted or he will
run away. I did not say he is always converted! I said: if there is
the least little rift in his bad will, the thing will enter; and then
he can suddenly be changed, or at any rate become incapable
of acting. But if that is not there, well, he will go away. But he won’t
be able to do anything. What I assert is that he won’t be
able to do anything; and if he can do something it is a sign that
the state of consciousness you were in was not sufficiently pure
and complete.
Why then are there so many enemies of the Divine, since
the Divine can see Himself in His enemies?
I don’t quite understand your question.
Why are there so many enemies of the Divine?
So many enemies of the Divine?
These hostile forces.
But why are there so many completely unconscious human beings?
I find that still more astonishing! For it is quite simply an
act of unconsciousness: to be an enemy of the Divine is nothing
but being unconscious.
(A teacher) He means that they should have been converted
since the Divine can see the Divine...
But, excuse me, the Divine where? I don’t understand your
reasoning.
When a man is the Divine’s enemy...
But after all, suppose there is one man in a million who has
realised this consciousness in himself. It is possible he may have
had an effect on those around him—and yet I took care to
tell you that for this state to be perfectly realised, generally it
is necessary to live in solitude, otherwise there are too many
contradictory things, there are too many brutally material necessities
which contradict it, for you to be able to attain that state absolutely
perfectly. But if you do attain it absolutely perfectly,
everything around you will necessarily become divine.
And so? I don’t even understand the argument.
(The teacher) He was objectifying the Divine and was
thinking: when somebody is the Divine’s enemy, he is
an enemy of a divine form, and this divine form sees
the Divine in his enemy, therefore the enemy must be
converted.
No, I still haven’t caught it!
(Another disciple) Sweet Mother, it is perfect but it
doesn’t exist! (Laughter) What he says doesn’t exist.
No, I admit I don’t follow you at all, neither him, nor you, nor
you! (Laughter) Good Lord, what do you all mean!
When one is an enemy of the Divine, one is an enemy of
what?
Oh!... That depends exclusively upon each one. Usually one is
an enemy of one’s own idea of the Divine, and that is why it is
said that one who denies the Divine is very often the greatest
devotee. For if he did not have within himself the certitude that
the Divine exists, he would not take the trouble of denying Him.
And this is still stronger in one who hates Him, for if he did not
have somewhere far within himself the certitude of the Divine’s
existence, how could he hate Him?
This has been symbolised here in India in the stories of those
who wanted to identify themselves with the divine Reality and
chose to become His enemies, for the path of the enemy was
more direct than the path of the worshipper. These are wellknown
stories here, all the old legends and Indian mythology
speak about it.Well, this simply illustrates the fact that one who has
never put the problem to himself and never given the faintest
thought to the existence of the Divine is certainly farther away
from the Divine than one who hates Him or denies Him. For
one can’t deny something one has never thought about.
He who says or writes: “I declare, I certify, all my experience
goes to prove that there is no Divine, no such thing exists, it is
just man’s imagination, man’s creation...”, that means he has
already thought over the problem any number of times and that
something within him is prodigiously interested in this problem.
As for the one who detests Him—there it is even more
obvious: one can’t be the enemy of an illusion.
So (speaking to the disciple), your question no longer holds.
For perhaps, after all, this is one more form of meeting which
may have its interest. One sometimes says in a lighter vein:
“My intimate enemy”, and it is perhaps not altogether wrong.
Perhaps there is more intimacy in hatred than in ignorance. One
is nearer to what one hates than to what one is ignorant of.
This doesn’t mean I recommend hatred! That is not what I
am saying, but I have very often happened to see more love in a
look or an expression of fury and hatred than in an absolutely
dull and inert state. It is deformed, spoilt, disfigured, whatever
you like, but there is something living, a flame is there.
Of course, even in unconsciousness and immobility, in the
complete inertia—apparently—of the stone, one may find a
dazzling Light, that of the divine Presence. But then that is the
state we were just speaking about: one sees Him everywhere,
meets Him everywhere, and in so manifold and marvellously
harmonised a way that all these difficulties disappear.
(Silence)
Truly speaking, to be practical, the problem could be expressed
like this. If the Divine had not conceived His creation as progressive,
there could have been from the beginning a beatific,
immobile and unchangeable condition. But the minute... How shall I
explain it, I don’t know. Just because the universe had
to be progressive, perfect identity, the bliss of this identity, the
full consciousness of this identity had necessarily to be veiled,
otherwise nothing would have ever stirred.
A static universe may be conceived. One could conceive of
something which is “all at one and the same time”: that there is
no time, only a kind of objectivisation—but not an unfolding in
which things manifest progressively one after another, according
to a special rhythm; that they are allmanifested at the same time,
all at once. Then all would be in a blissful state and there would
be no universe as we see it, the element of unfolding would be
missing, which constitutes... well, what we live in at present.
But once we admit this principle that the universe is progressive,
the unfolding progressive, that instead of seeing everything
together and all at once, our perception is progressive, then
everything takes its right place within it. And inevitably, the
future perfectionmust be felt as something higher than what was
there before. The realisation towards which we are moving must
necessarily seem superior to the one which was accomplished
before.
And this opens the door to everything—to all possibilities.
Sri Aurobindo often said this: what appeared beautiful,
good, even perfect, and marvellous and divine at a givenmoment
in the universe, can no longer appear so now. And what now
seems to us beautiful, marvellous, divine and perfect, will be an
obscurity after some time. And in the same way, the gods who
were all-powerful at a certain period belong to a lower reality
than the gods who will manifest tomorrow.
And that is a sign that the universe is progressive.
This has been said, this has been repeated, but people don’t
understand, you know, when it concerns all those great ages,
that they are like a reduction of the universal progress to the
human measure.
That is why if one enters the state in which everything,
as it is, appears perfectly divine, one necessarily goes out of the
universal movement at the same time. This is what people
like Buddha or Shankara had understood. They expressed
in their own way that if you could realise the state in which
everything appears to you perfectly divine or perfectly perfect,
you necessarily go out of the universal movement and enter the
Unmanifest.
This is correct. It is like that.
They were sufficiently dissatisfied with life as it was and had
very little hope that it could become better; so for them this was
the ideal solution. I call it escaping, but still.... It is not so easy!
But for them it was the ideal solution—up to a certain point,
for... there is perhaps one more step to take.
But it is a fact. If one wants to remain in the universe, one
must admit the principle of progress, for this is a progressive
universe. If you want to realise a static perfection, well, you will
inevitably be thrown out of the universe, for you will no longer
belong to its principle.
It is a choice.
Only, Sri Aurobindo often used to say: people who choose
the exit forget that at the same time they will lose the consciousness
with which they could congratulate themselves on their
choice! They forget that.
Open to Sri Aurobindo's consciousness and let it transform your life.
- The Mother (26 September 1971)
