I talked of The Mother in these pages back in April.  She was a mystic … one whose spiritual world is immense.

I’m reading a book about her and her beloved Sri Aurobindo.  Most of it so far is quotes.  Many of her thoughts are beyond my experience but every few pages I stop and stare.  “That’s me speaking!”

Am I an enlightened sage?  >  No

The answer came without thinking.

Am I a mystic?  >  Yes

The answer also came without thinking.

It’s so easy to elevate spiritual masters onto a pedestal.  I’m sure they don’t want that.  I expect that their ego has been reduced to a whisper.

If The Mother were still alive, I think she’d be happy to have coffee with me.  On one level we’d have an asymmetric relationship – uneven.  Her touch of the Infinite is deeper than mine.  But there’s an also: two human beings roaming through words and eyes, comfy together.

Here’s something The Mother said.  Or was it Bruce … momentarily?

Being this love, I feel myself living at the centre of each thing upon the entire earth, and at the same time I seem to stretch out immense, infinite arms and envelop with a boundless tenderness all beings – clasped, gathered, nestled on my breast that is vaster than the universe