journal d'une transition

232

*6-8-1979, Auroville: There is an exhausting, relentless wind blowing, raging, and my head is a sieve of petty thoughts, nothing flows. Somehow we manage to prepare everything for the concreting, load the cement on the tractor and unload it by the mixer, just the few of us, and push all the sand into one neat pile; P.G is impossibly moody… We start at about 2.30 pm and, through the sheer rhythm of the work, little by little, some joy seeps in… and thus we cast the top landing of the second spiral ramp into the Chamber… … Joss’s open letter is passed around, on “Mother Earth Service”… It sounds very nice, but what is behind it? I do not know. I just know that, as You said, You “can work with us only if we do not say a lie and are at the service of Truth”… And, by now, I have found that many of us are indeed, sometimes, lying… Our team finishes at 9 pm. There has been talk of another group that has formed, as an alternative to the Cooperative, which calls itself “ACT”… *7-8-1979, Auroville: While our team keeps at its work on the structure, a « serious » meeting is taking place in the office, between the two groups… Passing by, at tea-break, I hear a lot of harsh judgements… Oh, we are so righteous, so full of ourselves, we the servitors of the Divine! It is better to just catch the funny angle! But in fact we are poor to the bone: we have everything to learn, we yet have to become! The wind is fierce, it rages throughout the day, drying everything up, shrivelling, depleting, as if sucking the living sap, and where there are no trees, it is a sand- storm… This afternoon we met about the brochure. C.E has come with me, to present his drawings; but D.W has brought another set of drawings by Johnny… Anyway it will take some more time before one is ready for printing and, meanwhile, Matrimandir must survive! Afterwards, till dark, we help Mohan, John H and Mangini to pull up the pipes from the Banyan well along with the bore-men… There’ll be no water for a few days, and there is also a power-cut, and everything is quite chaotic… *9-8-1979, Auroville: Groping blindly… this day is ending and the next day will begin and… what about it? The same mechanics, the same lack of reality? I have no taste for life. The only thing that can always fill me with some joy is the sense of beauty, the possibility to express beauty here, to be one with the spirit of beauty… It is so hard and crude and sterile to be a separate being, an entity moved by processes that are semi-conscious at best… I’d rather melt or merge into an impersonal consciousness of grace and beauty, abroad and around yet ready to fill those movements and things that are receptive… To this I belong, I know… For what purpose am I bound to the individual? What is the living truth I am to express? Why am I left drifting, support less, unprogressive? The world seems to repeat itself into a growing impossibility… and I am still on the shore, dull, barely existing… The fact of being physical and yet… empty! This is what is so hard!