September 11, 1971
Everyone is quarreling! Everyone, everywhere. Squabbles,
squabbles, squabbles — all the time, night and day, constantly.
At night too!
Yes! (laughter)
And at the same time there is the solution: an im-per-turb-able calm. It’s as if it wanted to teach the body a lesson. But ridiculous squabbles, you know, everyone, absolutely everyone. Some accusing others — they accuse each other — and everyone telling lies! Everything is twisted. Everything is twisted, nothing is clear. I
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have never (my God, I’ve been here a long time), I have never seen that to such a degree, with such a terrible restlessness. And my body is aware that if it loses the inner calm for one minute, it will fall very sick. It’s just like this (gesture suspended on a crest), as though it were about to tip over into a pit.
It’s disgusting.
Only one solution (Mother spreads her arms) — an imperturbable calm.
It’s a concrete calm. Curious. It’s concrete. It’s as if you could touch it (Mother presses the palms of her hands on an invisible rock)…. It’s curious.
(Mother goes into the Calm for a half hour
while holding Satprem’s hands)
Do you feel how concrete it is?
Yes, yes, it’s massive.
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