I think there is an attempt going on to teach me (that is, to make me learn) why one dies.
There are lots of ways of dying, depending on the various planes of consciousness, and there are lots of causes (gesture in a gradation), but in each domain there is, as it were, an essential cause that makes death at the same time necessary, indispensable and unavoidable. And then, physically, that is, materially in the body's cells, you seem to be ... (Mother makes a gesture at a tangent), you are just on the borderline, on the verge of finding the secret of why there is cessation, why dissolution is made necessary by the incapacity to follow the movement of transformation.
It came in the wake of a sort of purely physical attack or fit extremely painful, during which I had almost the revelation of why the cells cease to be organized. It's fairly recent since it was yesterday, and it needs to sink in before it can be expressed. But I had a strong impression that I was on the verge of a supreme secret of physical dissolution.
When it becomes (I don't know how many experiences it will take to be quite clear), but when it becomes quite clear, then ...
I think I am being made to learn this.
It's a dangerous game!
Yes ... Only what must happen can happen, of course. It's for me to hold out, that's all!
And if I don't hold out, it means I am not able to do the work; if I am not able to do it, that puts an end to the whole affair.
Only what must happen happens, without a doubt.
No, no, the conviction becomes absolute that you can die only if you must die. One never dies by accident.
Never?
Never (Mother takes on a categorical tone of voice), NEVER.
No accident ever happens.
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What man calls "accident," never. It may have the appearance of an accident, but it's only an appearance.
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