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The Tenth Day of Victory

by
Patrizia Norelli-Bachelet ©
Preface
The unusual nature of events which transpired in my life
in 1971, encouraged me to record salient features of those experiences.
I did this in the summer of 1972, in Pondicherry, India. However, at that
time I was unable to make an accurate assessment of what had occurred because
the process was still in its infant stage. Nonetheless, it seemed important
to write about the experiences more or less as they were taking place.
I had reason to believe that a fuller understanding eventually would come.
Thus the first portion of this autobiographical study
was written in mid 1972; the rest, covering the remainder of 1972 and all
of 1973, was written a number of years later. It was at that time that
I decided to follow the structure in the division of the study which the
process itself revealed, as well as to extend the exercise to include a
full record of what by then had become clear and coherent to me. I realised
that there were cycles in the experiences consisting of nine years each,
but marked off by periods of three years and their multiples. Hence, the
first part would cover three years, 1971 to 1974; the second portion would
comprise the six years, or second multiple of three, from 1974 to 1980;
while the last portion would cover the third multiple of three – 1980 to
1989. This rhythm or harmony was borne out by the circumstances of my life
and yoga during the eighteen years about which I intend to write.
The better part of 1971 was spent undergoing an 'initiation',
for want of a better word. It served to induce a state of consciousness
which would prove to be a congenial and fertile terrain for what would
occur over the next decades. Most important of all, a 'seed' had been planted
in the early period of the initiation and this nuclear element created
a structural basis and atmosphere for everything that would transpire in
my life thereafter. As I look back on those early events, one feature of
the initiation stands out above all others, as if it were a binding energy
in the process, its raison d'être. And this, I later came to realize,
constituted the heart and soul of the yoga Sri Aurobindo and the Mother
of Pondicherry bequeathed to seekers. In their Integral Yoga the primary
focus of the initial stages must necessarily be on the act of surrender.
But, as all those who begin the practice of their yoga soon come to realise,
an accurate definition of just what 'surrender' might be is not easy to
formulate. Above all, there is the question, Surrender of what, and to
whom or to what?
The discoveries I made in 1971 – forced upon me, I must
add – allowed me to appreciate the true nature of the world. I soon realised
that our material universe – that is, the physical reality we are an intrinsic
part of – is a crust, as it were, within which are numerous more subtle
dimensions. In those dimensions there are forces operating, in certain
instances capable of crossing thresholds which separate these worlds to
interact with elements in our material universe. Needless to say, my first
contacts with those forces and the experiences I had as a result were highly
disturbing, given the unknown quantity I was dealing with. Gradually, however,
I was able to sort out the happenings and put some order into the affair.
The most disturbing aspect of all was the inability in the initial stages
to know with impeccable certainty exactly who the 'spirit' or 'being' or
'presence' was that appeared to be guiding the process. As I review the
events I realise that a major portion of the three years which formed the
first period of this study were spent in pursuit of a knowledge which could
provide an objective framework for the yoga and the act of surrender.
The question of surrender assumes special prominence in
Sri Aurobindo's integral yoga. Indeed, the success of the endeavour hinges
in large part on the attainment of a progressively more complete act of
surrender. But the condition of the human consciousness complicates the
issue considerably. At the root of the problem lies the inability to discriminate
between the impulses to action which stem from one's ego nature, or other,
higher possibilities of which the initiation provided the first insights.
To appreciate the distinction it is first of all necessary to understand
something of the true character of the human species, in particular its
incomplete status. That is, the human race is engaged in an organically
and progressively self-refining operation. This, indeed, is the first premise
of Sri Aurobindo's revolutionary teaching. The second is that a new spirituality
is manifesting which deals directly with the method to introduce and perhaps
accelerate the advent of the next level of human evolution, – what he called
the Supramental or Truth-Conscious creation.
It is the second premise which forces the seeker to deal
with certain features of our world that are ignored or rejected in the
old spirituality. And this fact draws into play the question of surrender.
Since the world, our material universe, is seen in this teaching as the
field in which the new and superior race is to evolve and where it is to
become established, the forces operating in this arena cannot be ignored
or brushed aside as illusory or unreal substances. All the former paths
demanded that this material plane be transcended entirely, by one method
or another; and success was gauged by the degree to which the practitioner
was able to peel off layer upon layer of this materiality until the embodied
consciousness merged with the Transcendent, dissolving the nexus of consciousness
binding one to this plane, pinning one down to this woeful planet Earth.
The 'heavens' of all religions, or the 'samadhis' of many schools of Indian
yoga, are descriptions of a reality that exists beyond this material crust,
as it were. Or else there are the schools of Buddhism – Zen, for example
– which emphasise unabashedly the impermanence and hence illusory nature
of this material universe, filled with forces in interaction and constant
motion; all of which constitute an inferior state. Liberation in these
paths signifies the dissolving (nirvana) of any thread in the human consciousness
which can bind the seeker to the material and subtle universes. Birth is
thus simply a passage, an entry into a field in which this sort of liberation
can be attained. Ultimately, the goal is a cessation of birth entirely.
To stress the fact that birth is equated with a 'fall', Buddhist tradition
sustains that liberated beings who are free from the entanglements of birth
and death may choose to be reborn. This choice is the result of their infinite
compassion and egolessness: Boddhisatvas return to Earth merely to show
seekers the path they need to tread in order to EXIT this plane for good
and become liberated from birth forever.
In view of this aim, any transaction with forces operating
in the subtle or denser planes, as in Tantric Buddhism, is considered a
means to transcend. Their existence provides an atmosphere for the seeker
to attain liberation. There is no other purpose involved. In other words,
the world is intrinsically unreal, – or real only insofar as it is a field
for this escape.
Of course these hypotheses do not answer fundamental questions,
foremost of which is the purpose for such an arrangement, imposed on all
souls born into this material universe and in particular on Earth. To any
pondering intelligence, at some stage the question forcefully arises: Is
this all there is? Is birth only for the purpose of transcending – be this
either through one life or many lives? Is the Earth merely a testing ground
where 'God' will ultimately pass judgment and send one either to heaven
or to hell, eternally? If this is so, it appears to be a very complicated
design for so small a goal. Why take birth at all if the ultimate attainment
is no birth? In addition, what role does suffering play in the design,
for surely 'God' could have devised a more painless transition, if transition
had been the sole purpose in creation of this material universe.
At one time or another all human beings are brought face
to face with the unavoidable fact of death. If we propose to question the
purpose of birth, then we must also deal with the most painful of earthly
experiences: the death of all things born on this planet and part of its
evolutionary process. Indeed, one point is entirely clear. The purpose
of this Earth is to provide a field for organic evolution. This cannot
be denied. But whether it is 'purposeless' or full of a divine Purpose,
none have been able to affirm with any degree of irrefutable certainty.
Spirituality views the destiny of the planet statically.
In such a vision Earth is indeed a 'hell' insofar as it is the field in
which to become aware of the inferior and irredeemable condition of material
creation, as well as the place to discover the method of escape. We are
thoroughly indoctrinated to accept this function as the only purpose for
evolution on Earth. All spiritual paths and religions have therefore accommodated
themselves to this 'truth'. Until the advent of Sri Aurobindo.
In 1872 the birth of Sri Aurobindo brought a new light
into the world. But even today as I write these lines in March of 1990,
the real scope and newness of the message he brought is not fully appreciated.
For it is not simply a 'message'. Sri Aurobindo's birth introduced a new
element in the evolutionary process. The experiences I began having in
early 1971 gradually opened my eyes to the quality of this new element.
Finally, when I had attained a certain maturity in the quest, I could no
longer describe his teachings as 'spiritual', or even a new spirituality.
It was something else, something entirely, completely different. Indeed,
the 'initiation' I was carried through disclosed the true character of
Sri Aurobindo's revolutionary coming. At the same time, treading this path
revealed the nature of the new world that is being born. This world can
best be described as the field wherein the Truth- Consciousness is evolving
and is gradually expanding from its 'seed' status to envelop the entire
Earth field. Thus, what is recorded in this study is the lived experience
of the birth of a new world. That is, a record of transition from the old
to the new.
There have been major transitions in the course of evolution
prior to the momentous turning point of our times. Nonetheless, a very
special quality distinguishes the present one from all others. It is the
presence of a witnessing consciousness, so to speak. That is, the passage
is not an unconscious, inexplicable leap from animal to man, or from an
unknown to a further unknown. Rather, it must be described as a process
of becoming conscious within the parameters of a race subjected to severe
limitations of consciousness, imprisoned in a world of ignorance which
such limitations determine; and based on a new faculty of awareness whereby
the leap forward into tomorrow's unknown is consciously pursued. Thus,
when we move ahead we carry the light of that awareness with us on our
journey. It is then that the motto of Aeon Centre of Cosmology at Skambha,
borrowed from Sri Aurobindo, is realised: From truth to greater truth.
That truth we aspire to is not static. This is the most
important distinction to make. All spirituality and religions found their
teachings on the assumption that the core of the teaching is eternal and
valid for all times. This assumption can only be true if we are able to
extract this core from an evolving world. If we isolate it and make it
a distant light to be reached or attained in a static and unevolving dimension
('heaven'), then it is entirely possible to speak of 'eternal truths of
the revealed Word'. But in so doing difficulties surface: the reconciliation
of that static truth and the evolving conditions in which this truth seeks
to express itself. In a nutshell, this is the problem humanity has faced
from the first moment the human consciousness began to dwell on the nature
of reality.
In Sri Aurobindo's exposition the problem is solved at
the outset when a bridge is forged between the immobile and the mobile.
It is the simultaneity of the expression that revolutionises perception.
And it is this reconciliation of apparently unreconcilable opposites which
forms the basis for the method to transform the old field into the new
and higher manifestation, and fulfillment of the Earth's true destiny.
Thus, in this new dispensation Truth evolves pari passu
with the march of the species and the embodied consciousness. What this
signifies in practical terms is that perception and experience must always
be integral. The record I am presenting describes the passage from a separative
state of consciousness, where integrality is impossible to achieve, to
one in which the total field of our awareness is integrated and centred
on a unity of being. The result is that the former separation ceases to
hold sway. That which moves partakes of truth as much as that which lies
in some immobile and distant Beyond. To put it succinctly, the mobile is
simply the vehicle of manifestation for the Immobile, and hence its contribution
is indispensable in any integral Reality and is its most precious component
as far as the human evolving consciousness is concerned.
I may go further to state that the Truth-Consciousness
in movement, its workings perceived and followed in our material world,
was an infinitely more satisfying experience than dissolutions and voids
and static non-beings and immobile silences.
I am proceeding a bit too quickly by revealing aspects
of the process which became apparent only at a later stage. Initially it
was necessary to forge a contact with an inner Presence. But in this too
a newness surfaced almost instantly, with the very first experiences. While
this Presence was inner or inwardly experienced, at the same time the experiences
themselves revealed that one of the principal reversals of the perceiving
consciousness was the impossibility to continue drawing the old dividing
line between inner and outer. No such classification could hold when discussing
the actions or placement of this Force. Concurrently, the emphasis from
the beginning was the Earth-centredness of the process, the stress on a
realisation of the Supreme Consciousness on this planet, in a physical
body, and central to every aspect of life and each and every experience
the Earth knows. Therefore, nothing I will describe in the following pages
was the result of trance or withdrawal of the consciousness from the physical
body. This in itself was the most revolutionary aspect of the process,
distinguishing it from other paths of self-perfection.
This Earth-centred quality, accompanied by a perceptive
faculty fully awake and rooted in the material dimension, understandably
introduced difficulties in those early years. First of all, I had to deal
with the newness of the approach and the unusual happenings which were
necessary in order to open a new path. Added to this was the fact that
initially I had no clear vision of what that path was nor its necessity.
This understanding came as the process evolved. Consequently, the question
of surrender to this guiding Power assumed utmost importance. If the world
was not to be rejected and the play of energies was to find its proper
place and purpose in the scheme of things, then a true appreciation of
these forces and their cosmic necessity could not be ignored or considered
irrelevant. And if there was a method to the madness of material creation,
this had to be discovered.
A significant aspect of the early stages of my yoga involved what may be
described as 'the act of choosing'. This extended beyond the individual
and before long it was apparent that civilisation itself was embarking
upon some momentous turning point in which a form of collective choosing
would play a central role. In ancient mythologies the choice before the
seeker is often described as the Dark or the Light. The children of Truth
position themselves on the side of the Light, while the offspring of Satan
– however he may be called in the different theologies – choose the Dark
and become everafter its instruments. Finally there is a showdown. One
or the other must prevail and conquer in order to draw the Earth back from
the brink of some fateful Abyss.
This was essentially the nature of my early experiences,
in particular during the initiation stage. And as knowledge increased a
new understanding evolved of these ancient traditions which brought the
moment of truth, of choice of truth over falsehood, into the context of
our present-day world. Indeed, something significant emerged almost at
the outset: Where does one draw the line? What, truly speaking, constitutes
the difference between Dark and Light? I was forced to admit that morality
played only a small part in any correct assessment. In addition, it seemed
that one of the principal goals of that guiding Presence was to break down
any ideas I might have entertained in this regard. Good and Evil were relatives
and I was given experiences which were akin to electric shocks in my consciousness
for the purpose, it seemed, of shattering any preconceptions that might
limit the action of the Force I was dealing with and the transformation
it was carrying out. Once the slate was clean, so to speak, and preconceptions
were done away with to allow a wider vision to emerge, the choice of our
times was apparent: the Old or the New.
This was simple enough to appreciate, for there were abundant
indications in the late 1960s and early 1970s to suggest that the world
as we know it was in some way at the end of its tether. Even the average
intelligence had to accept that some tremendous shift was being prepared
for societies the world over. But in this perception one could sense that
the first sacrifice at the altar of newness was the moralistic foundations
which have held our civilisation together from time immemorial.
Thus, choosing presented itself as a clinging to the old
and the known, or a bold and courageous and decisive step forward into
the unknown and the new tomorrow. In a word, it was a choice between the
past or the future, but in some mysterious way, a new future. Somehow the
successful march forward into this new and exciting world had to be made
CONSCIOUSLY. The question of choosing therefore introduced a new awareness
in the evolutionary progress, a sort of release of sleeping energies, we
might say, unlike former times when the great leaps the race had made were
all impositions, afflictions of a gross unconsciousness.
Thus this act – so central to the experiences I shall
now describe – perforce involved a true and real understanding of the old
world and its boundaries which had to be exceeded. There was as well the
method for this extension to come about in the present, which would then
illumine the path and ultimate goal. Gradually, as knowledge increased,
the path itself at each moment in its unfolding became the goal. That is,
Becoming was entirely equal to Being.
What is this state of Being so coveted by seekers of many
diverse paths, though for the most part entirely misunderstood? Similarly,
– and I return to my original question, – what is Surrender, and to what
or to whom? For they are interconnected. When the integral surrender of
all parts of the being is an established fact, one realises BEING, or Sat
of Indian tradition.
Thus surrender, as an intrinsic part of the act of choosing,
is simply a state of Being. It means that central to the consciousness
there is only THAT. Centremost there is a dimension which must be described
as 'spaceless' – but not a void. In that 'point' there is BEING. That-ness.
Only That. The act of surrender is thus the realisation or unveiling of
the divine Presence centremost in our life and consciousness-being. When
this process is complete there is really no question of choice at all,
nor even surrender. The entire being is possessed by the Presence and reflects
the divine Purpose in each and every lived experience on Earth. That divine
Purpose becomes unveiled at the core of our embodied consciousness and
being.
In this light, it will become evident why I put so much
effort in the early stages of my yoga into discovering what it was I had
been brought into contact with and where it was all headed. Instinctively
I knew that I was engaged in an unveiling process. It was essential to
continue the pursuit to its fullest depths and heights, peeling off layer
after layer. A halt halfway could prove fatal. But what, after all, was
'halfway'? In other words, an integral seeing alone could save one from
a treacherous 'fall' and disastrous incompletion. I knew that this, above
all else, was responsible for humanity's increasing misery: the inability
of the fragile human creature to follow the process through to completion
in a state of conscious surrender to the new, with no preconceived afflictions
from the old, binding one to the past and therefore subjected to a drain
of energies. The result is a precarious balance on a pole of tension which
closes out the experience of a new and dawning world.
There is no moralistic judgment involved, no loss of one's
soul and the like. There is simply an act of surrender and acceptance of
the new, on its own terms. We either agree to make this conscious transition,
or we remain imprisoned in the old and playout the collapse of a dying
world. The choice we are faced with draws up from the depths of the intrepid
seeker the finest energies of the true warrior of the Divine, for this
dawning world belongs to the Earth's heroes of her cause.
The very newness of that dawning world implied that there
were no established guidelines to turn to. As one example, and to demonstrate
how painful this suspension was, let me quote a portion of my story which
involved a climax in the first months of the yoga. I wrote this account
in the summer of 1972; yet it was not until more than two years had passed
before I received confirmation that what I had experienced and recorded
was not only valid but a fundamental aspect of the new yoga.
In late 1974 I came upon a book published for the first
time in August of that year, consisting of essays by Sri Aurobindo, translated
into English from the Bengali, entitled Karakahini, or Tales
of Prison Life [Sri Aurobindo Pathamandir, Calcutta, August 1974].
What Sri Aurobindo recorded in those pages I found to be amazingly similar
to what I had experienced and written about concerning my own yoga several
years prior to the discovery of this book in which he gives details of
his own major breakthrough. In Alipore Jail in 1908, during the year of
his painful confinement, undeniably Sri Aurobindo had been involved in
a process which unveiled his true destiny and divine mission, and this
was almost identical to what I had experienced. Clearly both he and I had
been carried through the same 'initiation'. The method or process was the
same. Perhaps one of the most fulfilling moments in my early quest was
the day I came upon these pages and at last had confirmation, from Sri
Aurobindo himself, about the nature of events which were highly disturbing
and entirely puzzling. Concerning his breakthrough, he wrote:
Troubled by mental listlessness I spent a few days in
agony in this manner. One afternoon as I was thinking streams of thought
began to flow endlessly and then suddenly these grew so uncontrolled and
incoherent that I could feel that the mind's regulating power was about
to cease. Afterwards when I came back to myself, I could recollect that
though the power of mental control had ceased, the intelligence was not
self-lost or did not deviate for a moment, but it was as if the intelligence
was watching quietly this marvellous phenomenon. But at the time, shaking
with the terror of being overcome by insanity, I had not been able to notice
that I called upon God with eagerness and intensity and prayed to him to
prevent my loss of intelligence. That very moment there spread over my
being such a gentle and cooling breeze, the heated brain became relaxed,
easy and supremely blissful such as in all my life I had never known before.
Just as a child sleeps, secure and without fear, on the lap of his mother,
so I remained on the lap of the World-Mother. From that day all my troubles
of prison life were over. Afterwards on many occasions, during the period
of detention, inquietude, solitary imprisonment, and mental unease because
of lack of activity, bodily trouble or disease, in the lean periods of
yogic life, these have come, but that day in a single moment God had given
my inner being such strength that these sorrows as they came and went did
not leave any trace or touch on the mind; relishing strength and delight
in the sorrow itself the mind was able to reject these subjective sufferings.
The sufferings seemed as fragile as water drops on a lotus leaf . . . Though
it is not the purpose of these articles to write a history of my inner
life, still I could not but mention this fact. From this one incident it
will be clear how it was possible to live happily during long solitary
confinement. It was for this reason that God had brought about this situation
or experience. Without turning me mad he had enacted in my mind the gradual
process towards insanity that takes place in solitary confinement, keeping
my intelligence as the unmoved spectator of the entire drama. Out of this
came strength, and I had an excess of kindness and sympathy for the victims
of human cruelty and torture. I also realised the extraordinary power and
efficacy of prayer. (pp.60-62.)
In 1971, in my own private 'jail', during a carefully
arranged 'solitary confinement' of my own, I experienced what Sri Aurobindo
has described above, whose purpose was the same: to forge an inner and
unshakable strength of being. I wrote about this experience in 1972, Sri
Aurobindo's centenary year, as part of the record that follows . . .
From that point on the voice in my head began to increase
and increase. I asked it to stop, but it continued. I began pleading with
it; it went on and on. I was helpless. It had a life of its own within
me and I could do nothing to stop it. I had allowed it to come into me
and now there was no way to get rid of it. I was desperate for I saw that
at this point I was on the border of insanity. I was literally staring
insanity in the face; and once that fatal step was taken into the gaping
abyss of the world of the insane, I was gone, there would no longer be
the strength and the capacity to emerge, the mind would be completely under
the power of this macabre force. I remember this moment so vividly, holding
my head between my hands and being agonisingly aware that this was the
moment: either I came through and was all the better for it, or I was to
be swallowed up by this force forever. But instinctively I knew there was
only one thing that could save me. And so, I began praying with all my
heart, imploring the Supreme to have pity on me and to understand that
all I wanted was the light, that supreme Light, that I could not live on
if I had to continue in darkness. I placed myself in his hands at that
moment and pleaded with him to carry me out of the abyss . . . And suddenly
something happened, all became utterly silent, absolutely, totally still
– a stillness made all the more so by contrast with the horrific chaos
of moments earlier. It was sublime, it was peace, it was the mind in total,
complete stillness, when even breath seems to cease . . . These two experiences
. . . brought me to feel an immense compassion for those people who are
faced with the same situation and have not the strength to emerge. I saw
what a certain form of insanity is, how it comes about, and how also the
only salvation at that crucial moment is to completely abandon oneself
in the arms of the Supreme. I saw that it was only by plunging into the
abyss with the surety that one is plunging into the arms of the Beloved
that in the darkest chasm one can find the greatest light. But once the
link with this Consciousness, which is the seed of the Divine within us,
is lost, how are those wretched souls to emerge from their pitiful condition?
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