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when I must have mixed with or been part of guilds, when teams of artisans and
craftsmen would work their lifetimes on a single work or construction…
And the wind-mill broke down again…
… Sometime I get a sort of impersonal glimpse of the shape of my life and its
apparent direction, and I wonder what is holding me on… It looks like a life of
waiting, and yet there are processes of growth that seem to overlap, at different
speeds or along different time scales; even with regards to, say, a “normal” human
life, I for instance feel as much a teenager, as I did when I was 18, that I feel like
an ageless person – watching and enduring and trying to become physically aware
and manifesting that very agelessness, that timelessness… Likewise I feel as much
a woman as I feel a man, in my own experience of meeting others, of relating… And
further, I also feel as alive as I feel “dead”, as “white” as I feel “coloured”, as much
from the past as I feel from the future… And even, more “locally”, I feel as much of
Auroville, as I feel not of it, or out of it…
There is a lot of stuff coming through these days; in another context, I might take
it as materials for writing; but here there is no such self-evident activity to which I
could give myself: rather it all feels equal, or indifferent – this or that activity, so
long as there is no indication from above or from behind the heart, nothing in
particular, however agreeable or creative, makes much sense…
*14-7-1987, Auroville:
There is this odd, constant contradiction, between feeling like a boy, almost like a
child, with infinite time ahead, and the conditioning that watches the number of
years that elapse and measures the time of my body: when one is nearly forty,
then one ought to have the sense of making something of one’s life…!
And, translated I terms of this yoga, one should by now be at least all centred and
moving forward with a clear and steady aspiration, the results measured in
consciousness…
But none of that is there; one hangs on, day after day and night after night…
The nagging problem is that, most of the time, I so dislike what I manifest; and if I
was to leave the body now, I couldn’t be happy of the use made of this
opportunity… In that sense, the negative presence of “death”, as the negative of a
colour print, is still playing the necessary role of a reminder…
For it is only seldom that I Move into the state of consciousness where everything is
actually Thy Will and Thy Action; and one is left with no ambition, not even the
desire of being worthy of You: there is then only a transparent acceptance, a
neutral freedom…
*16-7-1987, Auroville:
The nights are again very restless and tiring, and the dream activities very
puzzling; last night there was a long time spent with Diane and that crowd, with a
lot of disconcerting factors at play, and something of Auragni that was disturbingly
grave: she was telling me how she had missed me, not knowing why I couldn’t be
there, and that she had a weakness in her physical heart and I must be very careful
about it… I don’t know; I don’t understand…
*17-7-1987, Auroville:
I met F as I was cycling back to “Ravena” this afternoon; he was on his way to a
special meeting he had more or less initiated, at the Matrimandir office, between