(Mother reads aloud a letter by Sri Aurobindo which she intends to publish in the February issue of the "Bulletin":)
"The only creation for which there is any place here is the supramental, the bringing of the divine Truth down on the earth, not only into the mind and vital but into the body and into Matter. Our object is not to remove all 'limitations' on the expansion of the ego or to give a free field and make unlimited room for the fulfillment of the ideas of the human mind or the desires of the ego-centred life-force. None of us are here to 'do as we like', or to create a world in which we shall at last be able to do as we like; we are here to do what the Divine wills and to create a world in which the Divine Will can manifest its truth no longer deformed by human ignorance or perverted and mistranslated by vital desire. The work which the sadhak of the supramental yoga has to do is not his own work for which he can lay down his own conditions, but the work of the Divine which he has to do according to the conditions laid down by the Divine. Our yoga is not for our own sake but for the sake of the Divine. It is not our personal manifestation that we are to seek, the manifestation of the individual ego freed from all bounds and from all bonds, but the manifestation of the Divine. Of that manifestation our own spiritual liberation, perfection, fullness is to be a result and a part, but not in any egoistic sense or for any ego-centred or self-seeking purpose. This liberation, perfection, fullness too must not be pursued for our own sake, but for the sake of the Divine."
Sri Aurobindo
I find this admirable! And it should be repeated over and over and over again - to oneself and to others, every minute.
It's the perfect answer to the present condition.
That's the point, isn't it: it touches on the very crux of the difficulty (Mother pinches something tiny and very hard between her fingers). Despite everything, even though you may give everything, surrender everything, there is something (same gesture), and that something always remains there, behind.
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Yesterday evening I was so glad to read this. I said, "There! This is what we need."
We must publish it and repeat it to each and every one.
***
(Soon afterwards, Satprem, seeing the heap of papers on Mother's table, proposes to take some with him to reduce the pile.)
No, my difficulty isn't that, my difficulty is that there are too many people handling my papers. Curiously enough, it's almost material: I'll put something away, and if nobody touches it, I'll find it again; I don't have to search for it: I'll find the thing immediately. But even if someone takes it without disturbing it, the atmosphere is gone and I no longer know how I arranged it. And here, there are four, five, six people handling my papers - seven. So (Mother points to the stacks in every corner): chaos.
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