It's neither life nor death.. BOTH are being changed.. into something still unknown.. dangerous and wonderful. On Nov 17, 1973, she left her body - why?
"Before dying falsehood rises in full swing. Still people understand only the lesson of catastrophe. Will it have to come before they open their eyes?" This is the year of Watergate, of Nixon's first trip to China, the assassination of the Israeli athletes in Munich, the first oil embargo. This is Mother's last lap. A lap strewn with heartrending little cries and stunning visions. The end of one world, the beginning of another.... whether we want it or not. "Sometimes, it is so new and unexpected, it's almost painful." And I would ask her, "But is it a state outside matter?" "I don't go outside of physical life, but.... it looks different. But it is strange. And it is PHYSICAL, that is the extraordinary thing! As if the physical had split in two.... A new state in matter. And it is ruled by something that is not the sun, I don't know what it is.... I am touching another world. Another way of being.... dangerous but wonderful." How I listened to her little breath as she gasped for air, a breath that seemed to come from another side of the world: "There is no difference between life and death. It's neither life nor death, it is.... something. It is not the disappearance of death you understand: BOTH are being changed.... into something still unknown, which seems at once extremely dangerous and absolutely wonderful." And what if "death" were merely the other, MATERIAL side of our human bowl, the sunlit shore for a species to come? A new condition on both sides of the world, in which life and death change into.... something else? "I am treading a very thin and narrow line...." And then this cry, this entreaty: "Let me do the work!" On November 17, 1973, she passed away - why?
(Gespräch mit Sujata. Dieses Gespräch fand auf den Tag genau ein Jahr vor unserem letzten Treffen mit Mutter statt. In den vergangenen Tagen waren gewisse Ausschnitte der Tonbandaufnahmen aus Mutters Zimmer in den Schaufenstern der Buchhandlung SABDA ausgehängt worden. Sujata wundert sich:)
Wie kann das geschehen, liebe Mutter? So viele Jahre lang hoben wir all deine Aufnahmen auf, und niemand erfuhr etwas, und jetzt werden sie mit fehlerhaften Abschriften veröffentlicht.
Sie hören nicht auf mich.
Aber wie konnte es herauskommen?
Der Ashram gehört mir nicht mehr.
(Sujata betroffen:) Das schmerzt mich sehr, der Ashram gehört Mutter ...
Ach, mein Kind, schon seit langem ist das nicht mehr so. Seitdem ich nicht mehr hinausgehe, glauben die Leute, daß Mutter sich um nichts kümmert, nichts weiß ... Man müßte noch einmal einen anderen Ashram aufbauen, mit vielleicht zehn Leuten als Kern - und selbst dann noch ...
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