Questions and Answers 1956
It is love.
But after that, Sri Aurobindo continues: “which, if not
what we call intuition—for that, though not of the
mind, yet descends through the mind—has yet a direct
touch upon Truth and is nearer to the Divine than the
human intellect in its pride of knowledge.” Is there a
relation between this mystic light and intuition?
It is not intuition. It is knowledge through love, light through
love, understanding through love. Sri Aurobindo says that it is
not intuition, for intuition belongs to the intellect—at least in its
expression, the expression of intuition is intellectual. While this
is a kind of direct knowledge almost by identity, which comes
from love.
And “the inner oracle”?
The oracle? That is the power of divination, of foresight, of understanding
symbols, and that is in the psychic being. Prophets,
for example, do not prophesy with the mind, it is through a
direct contact, beyond emotions and sentiments. Sri Aurobindo
even says that the Vedas, particularly, were not written with the
mind and through the head. The form of the hymn welled up
spontaneously from the psychic being, along with the words.
More or less, yes. The more perfect the contact, the greater the
power.
It also depends on the outer possibilities of the being. But I
have already explained that to you several times, I have already
told you that when one enters into contact with one’s psychic,
certain faculties develop spontaneously. For instance, there are
people with no intellectual education who suddenly get quite
a remarkable power of expression, which comes in this way,
spontaneously, through the inner contact with the psychic being.
Sri Aurobindo speaks here of “secular refrigeration”.
What!
Yes, this is the materialistic and purely physical thought which
freezes and congeals the emotions, takes away all the warmth
of the soul, all the fervour, all the ardour of the feelings and the
religious consciousness, and makes you coldly reasonable.
Mother, if the heart can be the means of a more direct
knowledge, what is the role of the intellect as an
intermediary of knowledge?
As an intermediary, did you say?
For the true role of the mind is the formation and organisation
of action. The mind has a formative and organising power,
and it is that which puts the different elements of inspiration
in order, for action, for organising action. And if it would only
confine itself to that role, receiving inspirations—whether from
above or from the mystic centre of the soul—and simply formulating
the plan of action—in broad outline or in minute detail,
for the smallest things of life or the great terrestrial organisations
—it would amply fulfil its function.
It is not an instrument of knowledge.
But it can use knowledge for action, to organise action. It
is an instrument of organisation and formation, very powerful
and very capable when it is well developed.
One can feel this very clearly when one wants to organise
one’s life, for instance—to put the different elements in their
place in one’s existence. There is a certain intellectual faculty
which immediately puts each thing in its place and makes a plan
and organises. And it is not a knowledge that comes from the
mind, it is a knowledge which comes, as I said, from the mystic
depths of the soul or from a higher consciousness; and the mind
concentrates it in the physical world and organises it to give a
basis of action to the higher consciousness.
One has this experience very clearly when one wants to
organise one’s life.
Then, there is another use. When one is in contact with
one’s reason, with the rational centre of the intellect, the pure
reason, it is a powerful control over all vital impulses. All that
comes from the vital world can be very firmly controlled by
it and used in a disciplined and organised action. But it must
be at the service of something else—not work for its own
satisfaction.
These are the two uses of the mind: it is a controlling force,
an instrument of control, and it is a power of organisation. That
is its true place.
Oh! yes, my child, certainly. It is even the most direct way.
One can realise the Divine, that is to say, identify oneself
with the Divine, become fully conscious of the Divine and be an
instrument of the Divine. But naturally, one does not realise the
integral yoga, for it is only along one line. But from the point of
view of identification with the Divine it is even the most direct
path.
But without mental development one won’t be able to
express the Divine?
One cannot express Him intellectually, but one can express Him
in action, one can express Him in feelings, one can express Him
in life.
(Silence)
Sweet Mother, sometimes when one feels depressed it
lasts quite a long time; but when one feels a special kind
of joy, it does not last.
Yes, that is very true.
Then what should one do to make it last longer?
But it is not the same part of the being that has the depression
and the joy.
If you are speaking of pleasure, the pleasure of the vital is
something very fleeting, and I think that in life—in life as it is
at present—there are more occasions for displeasure than for
pleasure. Pleasure in itself is extremely fleeting, for if the same
vibration of pleasure is prolonged a little, it becomes unpleasant
or even repulsive—exactly the same vibration.
Pleasure in itself is something very fugitive. But if you are
speaking of joy, that is something altogether different, it is a kind
of warmth and illumination in the heart, you see—one may
feel joy in the mind also, but it is a kind of warmth and beatific
illumination occurring somewhere. That is a quality which is not
yet fully developed and one is rarely in the psychological state
that’s needed to have it. And that is why it is fugitive. Otherwise
joy is constantly there in the truth of the being, in the reality of
the being, in your true Self, in your soul, in your psychic being,
joy is constantly there.
It has nothing to do with pleasure: it is a kind of inner
delight.
But one is rarely in a state to feel it, unless one has become
fully conscious of one’s psychic being. That is why when it
comes it is fugitive, for the psychological condition necessary to
perceive it is not often there. On the other hand, one is almost
constantly in an ordinary vital state where the least unpleasant
thing very spontaneously and easily brings you depression—
depression if you are a weak person, revolt if you are a strong
one. Every desire which is not satisfied, every impulse which
meets an obstacle, every unpleasant contact with outside things,
very easily and very spontaneously creates depression or revolt,
for that is the normal state of things—normal in life as it is
today. While joy is an exceptional state.
And so, pleasure, pleasure which is simply a pleasing sensation—
if it lasts, not only does it lose its edge, but it ends
up by becoming unpleasant; one can’t bear it long. So, quite
naturally it comes and goes. That is to say, the very thing that
gives you pleasure—exactly the same vibration—after a short
while, doesn’t give it to you any longer. And if it persists, it
becomes unpleasant for you. That is why you can’t have pleasure
for a long time.
The only thing which can be lasting is joy, if one enters
into contact with the truth of the being which holds this joy
permanently.
Not in the same place.
It is not our physical heart, you understand. It is this centre
here (Mother points to the middle of the chest). But there are
various depths. The more you come to the surface, the more is
it mixed, naturally, with vital impulses and even purely physical
reactions, purely physical sensations. The deeper you go, the
less the mixture. And if you go deep enough, you find the feeling
absolutely pure, behind. It is a question of depth.
One throws oneself out all the time; all the time one lives, as
it were, outside oneself, in such a superficial sensation that it is
almost as though one were outside oneself. As soon as one wants
even to observe oneself a little, control oneself a little, simply
know what is happening, one is always obliged to draw back or
pull towards oneself, to pull inwards something which is constantly
like that, on the surface. And it is this surface thing which
meets all external contacts, puts you in touch with similar vibrations
coming from others. That happens almost outside you.
That is the constant dispersal of the ordinary consciousness.
For instance, take a movement, an inspiration coming from
the psychic depths of the being—for it comes even to those
who are not conscious of their psychic—a kind of inspiration
coming from the depths; well, in order to make itself perceptible
it has to come to the surface. And as it comes to the surface,
it gets mixed with all sorts of things which have nothing to do
with it but which want to make use of it. As, for instance, all
the desires and passions of the vital which, as soon as a force
from the depths rises to the surface, catch hold of it for their own
satisfaction. Or else people who live in the mind and want
to understand and evaluate their experience, to judge it: then it
is the mind that seizes upon this inspiration or this force which
rises to the surface, for its own benefit, for its own satisfaction
—and it becomes mixed, and that spoils everything. And this
happens constantly; constantly surface movements creep into
the inspiration from the depths and deform it, veil it, defile it,
ruin it completely, deforming it to such an extent that it is no
longer recognisable.
Why do these external impulses, when they come in
contact with the inspiration rising from within, spoil
everything, instead of being transformed?
Ah! excuse me, it is a reciprocal movement. And it depends
on the proportion. The inspiration from within acts, of course.
It is not that it is completely absorbed and destroyed, it isn’t
that. Necessarily, it acts but it becomes mixed, it loses its purity
and original power. But all the same something remains, and
the result depends on the proportion of the forces, and this
proportion is very different depending on the individual.
There comes a time when one deliberately calls the deep
inner inspiration and surrenders to it, when it can enter almost
completely pure and make you act in accordance with the Divine
Will.
The mixture is not unavoidable; it is only what usually
happens. And the proportion is very different according to the
individual.With some, when the psychic within takes a decision
and sends out a force, it is quite visible, it is visibly a psychic
inspiration. One can at times see a sort of shadow pass which
comes from the mind or the vital; but these are interventions
of no importance which cannot at all change the nature of the
psychic inspiration, if one does not let them have the upper hand.
None of these things is irremediable, for otherwise there
would be no hope of progress.
At the end of the previous talk, Mother commented that the
students and sadhaks were “not very rich in questions”. Thereafter,
they began to send her written questions, which one of
them read aloud:
It is said: “Follow your soul and not your mind which
leaps at appearances.” How to practise this in everyday
life?
Why, what is the problem? What is the difficulty?
How to put this advice into practice, this recommendation
to follow one’s soul and not one’s mind?
This is a purely individual matter.
The first condition is to receive inspirations from the soul—
exactly what we were just speaking about—for if one does not
receive them, how can one follow one’s soul? The first condition
is to be a little conscious of one’s soul and receive its inspirations.
Then, naturally, it goes without saying that one must obey them
instead of obeying the reasoning intellect.
But how to do it? By what method?... This is something
purely personal. Each one must find his own method. The principle
is there; if one wants to apply it, for each one the method is
different. It all depends on the extent to which one is conscious
of the inspirations from the soul, on the degree of identity one
has with it.
So one can’t give the same remedy for everybody.
Is that all?
“The more you give, the more you receive,” it is said.
Does this apply to physical energy? Should one undertake
physical work which seems beyond one’s capacity?
And what should be one’s attitude while doing this kind
of work?
If one did not spend, one would never receive. The great force a
child has for growth, for development is that he spends without
stint.
Naturally, when one spends, one must recuperate and must
have the time that is needed to recuperate; but what a child
cannot do one day, he can do the next. So if you never go
beyond the limit you have reached, you will never progress. It
is quite obvious that people who practise physical culture, for
example, if they make progress, it is just because they gradually
exceed, go beyond what they could do.
It is all a matter of balance. And the period of receptivity
should be in proportion to the period of expenditure.
But if one confines oneself to what one can do at a given
moment... First of all it is impossible, for if one doesn’t progress,
one falls back. Therefore, one must always make a little effort
to do a little more than before. Then one is on the upward path.
If one is afraid of doing too much, one is sure to go down again
and lose one’s capacities.
One must always try a little more, a little better than one
did the day before or the previous moment. Only, the more one
increases one’s effort, the more should one increase one’s capacity
of receptivity and the opportunities to receive. For instance,
from the purely physical point of view, if one wants to develop
one’s muscles, a progressive effort must be made by them, that
is to say, a greater and greater effort, but at the same time one
must do what is needed: massage, hydrotherapy, etc. to increase
at the same time their capacity to receive.
And rest. A rest which is not a falling into the inconscient
—which generally tires you more than it refreshes—but a
conscious rest, a concentration in which one opens oneself and
absorbs the forces which come, the universal forces.
The limits of the body’s possibilities are so elastic! People
who undergo a methodical and scientific training, rational,
systematic, arrive at absolutely startling results. They demand
things from their bodies which, naturally, without training it would be
quite impossible to do. And certainly, they must gradually
go beyond what they could do, not only from the point of
view of perfection, but also from the point of view of strength.
If they have that fear of doing more than they are able, of
overdoing things, they will never progress. Only, at the same
time one must do what is necessary for recuperating. That is the
whole principle of physical culture. And one sees things which
for an ignorant and untrained man are absolutely miraculous,
performed by bodies which have been methodically trained.
What should be done to remember the Mother constantly?
Should one repeat Her name, remember Her
physical form or think or feel that She is the Divine? Is
gratitude for the Divine a form of remembrance?
All this is good. Andmany other things are good. And it depends
on what each one can do.
It is a little too personal a question, isn’t it?
It depends on each one, it is the same thing. If one generalises,
it makes no sense any longer. To remember, you must not
forget, that’s all!
Can there be a collective form of discipline which is
self-imposed?
But very often it happens that people form groups and make
rules for themselves. That is a discipline which is self-imposed.
It constantly happens. All societies, secret or other, and all initiation
groups have always done things like that: they make rules
which they impose upon themselves and usually follow very
strictly. And there are even terrible penalties and quite disastrous
consequences when, after having taken the oath, one wants to
leave the discipline. This happens constantly in the world.
One could discuss the effectiveness, that would be another
thing. But in any case, the question is not “whether one can do it”
—it does happen, it is something which has been happening
since the most ancient times. Always man has tried to form
groups in one way or another and impose laws on these groups.
And if it is a mystic group, they are mystic laws.
Perhaps they are imposed on those who want to enter
the group; then they are not self-imposed, are they?
But one enters the group freely, and therefore one accepts them.
Usually, in those groups the first thing they do is to tell you,
“These are the laws, the rules of the group, do you accept them
or not?” If you don’t accept them, you don’t enter; if you accept
them, it is you who impose them on yourself. You are not forced
into a group like that! It is not like being subject, for example, to
the atavism of the family in which you are born. That is imposed
from outside. You are born in a family and are subject to the
atavism, the laws of a rigid family atavism, which is imposed
from outside. For, almost universally, the permission of the one
who is brought into the world or his acceptance is never asked:
you are brought here by force, the environment is imposed on
you by force, the laws of the atavism of the milieu by force, and
indeed you do what you can with them—the best you can, let
us hope! But when it is a group of friends or a society, unless
you have no personal will and are carried away by someone
else whom you obey, it is you yourself who decide whether you
accept these laws or not.
It is obvious that the question becomes a little more subtle
when it is a matter of religion, for that is a part of the imposition
on the child before he is born. If he is born in a religion, that
religion is imposed upon him. Obviously, according to the true
rules, there is an age when, supposedly, after having been instructed
in the religion in which you are born, you choose to be
in it or not. But very few people have the capacity for individual
choice. It is the custom of the family or the environment in which
they live, and they follow it blindly, for it is more comfortable than
reacting; one is born into it and one is almost forced to
follow that religion. One must have a very considerable strength
and independence of character to come out of it, for usually
you have to break through with much commotion and that has
serious repercussions on your life.
Open to Sri Aurobindo's consciousness and let it transform your life.
- The Mother (26 September 1971)
