journal d'une transition

645

personne, et par conséquent qu’il n’y a aucune vérité dans la dépression ou le désespoir : si je ne progresse pas, si je ne m’ouvre pas, la cause se trouve là, juste là, sous mon nez… ! Car Ton Aide est tangible dès que je suis capable, ne serait-ce qu’un moment, de me concentrer dans la flamme et le besoin… …. Je ne sais pas, je ne sais plus ; je suis au bord : le chemin est tout prêt, mais je reste au bord. J’ai vu plusieurs fois récemment, à des moments où ce Travail pouvait se faire avec ma participation un peu consciente, que tout mon être physique et nerveux est encore très noué, très tendu, comme un animal recroquevillé… Il faut beaucoup de patience, et d’harmonie ; il faut du temps… *27-5-1986, Auroville: A striking dream-experience, last night: it is a big house, where I am living with other people; some of the rooms, the important rooms, suddenly get invaded with huge insects, entering in rows and lines, very wilful and organised, ugly insects; once they are established they make obeisance to some dark invisible presence; then I felt impelled to act and, first with shyness and self-distrust, then surprised by the clarity and strength of my own voice, I went into each occupied room and sang the mantra, slowly, distinctly and loudly and, in one room after another those insects either retreated and left, or they disappeared… It matters to me that I have used the mantra thus: it is important, and I am grateful… … Sometimes during the day, I let my mind form the conception of a country given to be organised, an utopia, and how to govern it, how to lay down its rhythms and flow – like a story to be told to children… I still do not understand how a situation like Auroville’s can manifest something truly different: it is either too cramped and limited, or too loose and too open to influences, unless there would be a strict hierarchy with incarnate Truth at its centre, and profound and exacting commitment from each of its members. While, it seems to me, if one would start from a vaster area and a more complex situation, and have the power to determine, to an extent, the whole organisation, that could bring about the right conditions… *28-5-1986, Auroville: I read today reviews of Jean Genet’s last book; I’ll ask C to send me a copy… He was writing it still when he left his body; this man, this being, has had such a determining influence on my way, since the time he came into my childhood; I have met him only once, later in life, in the lift of a palace in Paris, and he still knew me… As I knew him still… *29-5-1986, Auroville: I am sitting in a Pondy restaurant by the ocean, recovering from having passed, quickly, my daughter, seated in front of Diane on her moped; I just had time to see that Diane has cut my princess’s hair very short, like hers; it didn’t feel right; she must have seen only my back, as I drove by… What, Mother, if my daughter had a deep intuition of who I am, and yet I would remain alien, a man in the street, just because they won’t let me turn to her…? What, Mother? I have not accepted it, You know! I have not forgiven Auroville for being able to do that to someone, to anyone. It happens to be me, but the lie is the same, the deep, essential outrage is the same; and all the pretence, the terrible futility that goes with it…