journal d'une transition

798

*1-7-1988, Auroville: The pressure of time again; there is a cramped ness and a rush, one has to do this, and then that, and on to this and on to that, and at night one finds oneself in this activity and then another one and the next, and there’s never a break, or a gap, to simply be… It is so difficult to shift and establish oneself in a state that contains the activity, in the silence of the Presence… I don’t know how to say that, but I am sure that, short of such a state, life here goes round and round and calls for its own end… Sometimes it feels that such a condition is at hand – only it would take what is called a “warp”, or a slip, a sort of accident, to get there, or that it gets here… And perhaps “here” and “there” are the same, only we are trapped and bound… It’s like this matter of relationships; how to be free, really free, so as to let flow the rhythms and pulses of each and every relationship, as and of itself, and not to make demands, not to have expectations, not to be turned to, not to be eager, but simply be, aware and free… … I met briefly Al.GC, and asked him point-blank to give more money for Barbara and Akash’s house; he looked “pained”, but he must do it! … Patricia came and sat with me a long time; she is perceptive and seems to be open; but there is an imbalance in her, un undeveloped ness that may cause her to get exalted about things or people; and for that she must, I think, work for some more time away from here, for her own sake… *3-7-1988, Auroville: Last night I was a long time with Satprem, in a car. Sujata was next to him, and with me there was someone else, a friend, and I was facing Satprem all the time, sitting as in those old-fashioned big automobiles, with folding seats set opposite the back seat… *5-7-1988, Auroville: N arrived this evening, after two days of absence, and threw himself at my feet, sobbing and whimpering, inarticulate, and wouldn’t let go of me… Little by little, I piece it together; he got himself drunk, then he swallowed some DTT powder; his grand-mother died; his wife blamed him for not bringing enough money home, half his wages go directly to the children’ school-fees, etc. He vomited, then; and I forced him to drink a full glass of milk, to counteract the poison; I bathed him, and made him rest… There’s this unexplained bond between us, almost as if he was my child, or part of me, and yet subjected to influences and forces which I can, at best, only guess about… But this is the first time he comes to me like this, undone, completely relying… *6-7-1988, Auroville: N slept through the night and went on sleeping through the morning; when I returned from work and the Sanskrit class (with the visit of the Governor of Pondichéry), he was waiting for me, and it was really sweet: for the first time I felt that he was there, himself, rather than wanting to merely accommodate me… I thought that perhaps he could try to move away from the village and perhaps stay here, in the store-room, for a while… But I don’t know if he has it in him to pull out and try for a truer balance; I can’t do it for him… He is also very attached to his kids, and may not want to live away from them…