The 'psychological preparation' of Satprem for his role as The Mother's confidant, as She narrated her experiences of the 'yoga of the cells' from 1951-1973.
This first volume is mostly what could be called the "psychological preparation" of Satprem. Mother's confidant had to be prepared, not only to understand the evolutionary meaning of Mother's discoveries, to follow the tenuous thread of man's great future unravelled through so many apparently disconcerting experiences - which certainly required a steady personal determination for more than 19 years! - but also, in a way, he had to share the battle against the many established forces that account for the present human mode of being and bear the onslaught of the New Force. Satprem - "True Love" - as Mother called him, was a reluctant disciple. Formed in the French Cartesian mold, a freedom fighter against the Nazis and in love with his freedom, he was always ready to run away, and always coming back, drawn by a love greater than his love for freedom. Slowly she conquered him, slowly he came to understand the poignant drama of this lone and indomitable woman, struggling in the midst of an all-too-human humanity in her attempt to open man's golden future. Week after week, privately, she confided to him her intimate experiences, the progress of her endeavour, the obstacles, the setbacks, as well as anecdotes of her life, her hopes, her conquests and laughter: she was able to be herself with him. He loved her and she trusted him. It is that simple.
(Brief von Satprem an Mutter)
Pondicherry, 3. Juni 1960
Liebe Mutter,
Ich bin etwas entmutigt. Jede Nacht gleite ich in ein schwarzen Loch, aus dem ich morgens erschöpft erwache. Keine einzige Sekunde bewußten Schlafes. Ich brauche eine Stunde, um mich von meinem "Schlaf" zu erholen. Im Grunde zehre ich ständig an meinen Nerven und die geringste Kleinigkeit ermüdet meinen Körper.
Doch das macht nichts. Ich würde liebend gerne alle Müdigkeit ertragen, wenn ich wenigstens ein bißchen bewußt wäre. Aber da ist nichts; als wäre ich so blockiert wie eine Pariser Conçierge!
Mutter, es vergeht kaum ein Augenblick meines wachen Lebens, wo ich nicht nach "mehr Bewußtsein" strebe - aber dieses Loch, in das ich nachts rutsche, als wäre nichts geschehen!
Entschuldige mein Jammern. Wenn ich wenigstens wüßte, was ich tun muß, damit sich das ändert.
Dein Kind,
Satprem
(Mutters Antwort)
Sonntag Nachmittag
Mein liebes Kind,
Die beste Ruhe ist, für einige Augenblicke in das innere Schweigen zu gehen.
Mit Segenswünschen.
Mutter
***
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