Sri Aurobindo
The Mother
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If you are to do this Yoga, you must have only one desire and aspiration, to receive the spiritual Truth and manifest it in all your thoughts, feelings, actions and nature.
They told me, "These things are hallucinations." I inquired what was a hallucination and found that it meant a subjective or psychical experience which corresponds to no objective or no physical reality. Then I sat and wondered at the miracles of the human reason.
A "personalised" section means that the content is refreshed per view for you, as if in answer to your inner aspiration.
The content is selected from the words of The Mother and Sri Aurobindo. It is the electronic equivalent of looking up any of Sri Aurobindo's or The Mother's works to receive an indication or answer. The explanation of the physical process follows..
Everybody can do it. It is done in this way: you concentrate. Now, it depends on what you want. If you have an inner problem and want the solution, you concentrate on this problem; if you want to know the condition you are in, which you are not aware of - if you want to get some light on the state you are in, you just come forward with simplicity and ask for the light. Or else, quite simply, if you are curious to know what the invisible knowledge has to tell you, you remain silent and still for a moment and then open the book. I always used to recommend taking a paper-knife, because it is thinner; while you are concentrated you insert it in the book and with the tip indicate something. Then, if you know how to concentrate, that is to say, if you really do it with an aspiration to have an answer, it always comes.
For, in books of this kind (Mother shows The Synthesis of Yoga), books of revelation, there is always an accumulation of forces - at least of higher mental forces, and most often of spiritual forces of the highest knowledge. Every book, on account of the words it contains, is like a small accumulator of these forces. People don't know this, for they don't know how to make use of it, but it is so. In the same way, in every picture, photograph, there is an accumulation, a small accumulation representative of the force of the person whose picture it is, of his nature and, if he has powers, of his powers. Now, you, when you are sincere and have an aspiration, you emanate a certain vibration, the vibration of your aspiration which goes and meets the corresponding force in the book, and it is a higher consciousness which gives you the answer.
Everything is contained potentially. Each element of a whole potentially contains what is in the whole. It is a little difficult to explain, but you will understand with an example: when people want to practise magic, if they have a bit of nail or hair, it is enough for them, because within this, potentially, there is all that is in the being itself. And in a book there is potentially - not expressed, not manifest - the knowledge which is in the person who wrote the book. Thus, Sri Aurobindo represented a totality of comprehension and knowledge and power; and every one of his books is at once a symbol and a representation. Every one of his books contains symbolically, potentially, what is in him. Therefore, if you concentrate on the book, you can, through the book, go back to the source. And even, by passing through the book, you will be able to receive much more than what is just in the book.
There is always a way of reading and understanding what one reads, which gives an answer to what you want. It is not just a chance or an amusement, nor is it a kind of diversion. You may do it just "like that", and then nothing at all happens to you, you have no reply and it is not interesting. But if you do it seriously, if seriously your aspiration tries to concentrate on this instrument - it is like a battery, isn't it, which contains energies - if it tries to come into contact with the energy which is there and insists on having the answer to what it wants to know, well, naturally, the energy which is there - the union of the two forces, the force given out by you and that accumulated in the book - will guide your hand and your paper-knife or whatever you have; it will guide you exactly to the thing that expresses what you ought to know…. Obviously, if one does it without sincerity or conviction, nothing at all happens. If it is done sincerely, one gets an answer.
Certain books are like this, more powerfully charged than others; there are others where the result is less clear. But generally, books containing aphorisms and short sentences - not very long philosophical explanations, but rather things in a condensed and precise form - it is with these that one succeeds best.
Naturally, the value of the answer depends on the value of the spiritual force contained in the book. If you take a novel, it will tell you nothing at all but stupidities. But if you take a book containing a condensation of forces - of knowledge or spiritual force or teaching power - you will receive your answer.
OM Sri Aurobindo Mira Open my mind, my heart, my life to your Light, your Love, your Power. In all things may I see the Divine
I have gathered my dreams in a silver air Between the gold and the blue And wrapped them softly and left them there, My jewelled dreams of you.
I had hoped to build a rainbow bridge Marrying the soil to the sky And sow in this dancing planet midge The moods of infinity.
But too bright were our heavens, too far away, Too frail their ethereal stuff; Too splendid and sudden our light could not stay; The roots were not deep enough.
He who would bring the heavens here Must descend himself into clay And the burden of earthly nature bear And tread the dolorous way.
Coercing my godhead I have come down Here on the sordid earth, Ignorant, labouring, human grown Twixt the gates of death and birth.
I have been digging deep and long Mid a horror of filth and mire A bed for the golden river's song, A home for the deathless fire.
I have laboured and suffered in Matter's night To bring the fire to man; But the hate of hell and human spite Are my meed since the world began.
For man's mind is the dupe of his animal self; Hoping its lusts to win, He harbours within him a grisly Elf Enamoured of sorrow and sin.
The grey Elf shudders from heaven's flame And from all things glad and pure; Only by pleasure and passion and pain His drama can endure.
All around is darkness and strife; For the lamps that men call suns Are but halfway gleams on this stumbling life Cast by the Undying Ones.
Man lights his little torches of hope That lead to a failing edge; A fragment of Truth is his widest scope, An inn his pilgrimage.
The Truth of truths men fear and deny, The Light of lights they refuse; To ignorant gods they lift their cry Or a demon altar choose.
All that was found must again be sought, Each enemy slain revives, Each battle for ever is fought and refought Through vistas of fruitless lives.
My gaping wounds are a thousand and one And the Titan kings assail, But I dare not rest till my task is done And wrought the eternal will.
How they mock and sneer, both devils and men! "Thy hope is Chimera's head Painting the sky with its fiery stain; Thou shalt fall and thy work lie dead.
"Who art thou that babblest of heavenly ease And joy and golden room To us who are waifs on inconscient seas And bound to life's iron doom?
"This earth is ours, a field of Night For our petty flickering fires. How shall it brook the sacred Light Or suffer a god's desires?
"Come, let us slay him and end his course! Then shall our hearts have release From the burden and call of his glory and force And the curb of his wide white peace."
But the god is there in my mortal breast Who wrestles with error and fate And tramples a road through mire and waste For the nameless Immaculate.
A voice cried, "Go where none have gone! Dig deeper, deeper yet Till thou reach the grim foundation stone And knock at the keyless gate."
I saw that a falsehood was planted deep At the very root of things Where the grey Sphinx guards God's riddle sleep On the Dragon's outspread wings.
I left the surface gauds of mind And life's unsatisfied seas And plunged through the body's alleys blind To the nether mysteries.
I have delved through the dumb Earth's dreadful heart And heard her black mass' bell. I have seen the source whence her agonies part And the inner reason of hell.
Above me the dragon murmurs moan And the goblin voices flit; I have pierced the Void where Thought was born, I have walked in the bottomless pit.
On a desperate stair my feet have trod Armoured with boundless peace, Bringing the fires of the splendour of God Into the human abyss.
He who I am was with me still; All veils are breaking now. I have heard His voice and borne His will On my vast untroubled brow.
The gulf twixt the depths and the heights is bridged And the golden waters pour Down the sapphire mountain rainbow-ridged And glimmer from shore to shore.
Heaven's fire is lit in the breast of the earth And the undying suns here burn; Through a wonder cleft in the bounds of birth The incarnate spirits yearn
Like flames to the kingdoms of Truth and Bliss: Down a gold-red stairway wend The radiant children of Paradise Clarioning darkness' end.
A little more and the new life's doors Shall be carved in silver light With its aureate roof and mosaic floors In a great world bare and bright.
I shall leave my dreams in their argent air, For in a raiment of gold and blue There shall move on the earth embodied and fair The living truth of you.
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Translated by Sri Aurobindo or revised and published under his guidance.
Always the word Thou makest me hear in the silence is sweet and encouraging, O Lord. But I see not in what this instrument is worthy of the grace Thou accordest to it or how it will have the capacity to realise what Thou attendest from it. All in it appears so small, weak and ordinary, so lacking in intensity and force and amplitude in comparison with what it should be to undertake this overwhelming role. But I know that what the mind thinks is of little importance. The mind itself knows it and, passive, it awaits the working out of Thy decree.
Thou biddest me strive without cease, and I could wish to have the indomitable ardour that prevails over every difficulty. But Thou hast put in my heart a peace so smiling that I fear I no longer know even how to strive. Things develop in me, faculties and activities, as flowers bloom, spontaneously and without effort, in a joy to be and a joy to grow, a joy to manifest Thee, whatever the mode of Thy manifestation. If struggle there is, it is so gentle and easy that it can hardly be given the name. But how small is this heart to contain so great a love! and how weak this vital and physical being to carry the power to distribute it! Thus Thou hast placed me on the threshold of the marvellous Way, but will my feet have the strength to advance upon it?... But Thou repliest to me that my movement is to soar and it would be an error to wish to walk.... O Lord, how infinite is Thy compassion! Once more
Thou hast taken me in Thy omnipotent arms and cradled me on Thy unfathomable heart, and Thy heart said to me, "Torment not thyself at all, be confident like a child: art thou not myself crystallised for my work?"
Prayers & Meditations >>
Savitri Book 11 Canto 1 - The Eternal Day: The Soul's Choice and the Supreme Consummation
In him the fourfold Being bore its crown That wears the mystery of a nameless Name... ||149.14|| Spirit and seer and thinker of things seen, Virât, who lights his camp-fires in the suns And the star-entangled ether is his hold, Expressed himself with Matter for his speech.... ||149.15||
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