Evolution of Love 2

MY FIRST IMPRESSION

It is a difficult task to try and give a reader who often is only curious, if not indifferent, an idea of that which for you is the most precious thing, the jewel of jewels.

There are two dangers to be avoided : The first is to let your heart run away with you, to write an account so enthusiastic, so extravagant that the reader gets the impression of having before him the product of an unbalanced mind or at least of a rank sentimentalist, and consequently hurries through the article with an amused smile full of ironic pity.

The other danger would be to endeavour to remain completely cold and detached, to write like an impartial observer. This would be even worse, because one cannot speak of Her, who is the very embodiment of Love Divine, as if one were dealing with a scientific problem.

I shall, therefore, try to restrain my heart, without however reducing it to complete silence.
It is bad taste to talk about oneself, but all I can do, is to relate the story of how I got in touch with "MA". For it is impossible to describe Her objectively:

She is different for every one of us. "I am whatever you think I am", She has often said.
It was on the 2nd of February , 1951, at about six o' clock in the evening that I saw Her for the first time in Her Ashram at Banaras.
Having "provisionally" placed a substitute in charge of my medical practice, I had left France in quest of spiritual guidance in this country, which since time immemorial has illumined the world.

Landing in Buddhist Ceylon, then proceeding along the East coast of India I had arrived in Banaras the previous day. Tired and disappointed, almost convinced that my journey had been in vain, and determined to return to France, I had already reserved a berth on the "Marseillaise", which was to sail from Colombo on February 21st.

I am frequently asked what was my first impression of Ma, what made me decide to leave everything-family, friends, country, profession, wealth-to follow Her. Why I have clung to Her like a shadow for the last 11 months, suffering torments whenever I am unable to see Her for a few hours.

Why, though I cannot understand what She says, I spend hours at Her feet, without taking my eyes of Her.
It is very difficult to reply to these questions. Not because language lacks words, but because a word has not the same meaning for different persons, unless they all have experienced the sensation corresponding to that word.

Thus one may well try with the aid of comparisons to make a child in France realize what exactly is the flavour of a mango. Even if one spent hours over it, he would only get a very vague idea and that also most likely false.

All the same, having made room for all these unavoidable limitations I shall now make an attempt.
What then was first impression ? It was in the evening of the 2nd of February, I found myself in the presence of a woman of 55, looking younger than her age, still beautiful. But at that moment I did not notice Her beauty, it was only later that I became aware of it. I still see Her, focussing Her eyes on me with that strange gaze that seemed to embrace my whole destiny.
That same evening, at about ten o' clock, She had granted me an interview which lasted for about 20 minutes. She was supposed to answer my questions, but I had nothing to ask. I simply desired to make a spiritual contact.

She seemed to divine thought. It was She who put the questions, clear, precise, going straight to the heart of things, raising exactly the points which interested me. But Her words were only a play on the surface. In those 20 minutes She had infused something into me, which was to last for a long time, which still continues. I returned to 'Clark's Hotel' after having secured Her permission to come back the next day to live in the Ashram.

I was in a strange state-my heart swelled with jubilation, with joyful exaltation-the state of one, who has just found what he has always yearned for in its most secret recess. Her image did not leave me anymore, even at night, and the very thought of Her drove tears into my eyes.
What exactly had happened to me ?

My critical sense, which had been submerged by the first wave, awoke on the 3rd or 4th day. "Take care", it told me, "you have fallen into the hands of a great magician. She has cast a spell over you to make you her obedient slave." And I began to be on the defensive, to struggle against Her influence-rather feebly, I confess, for how can one fight Love; there is no power in the world mightier than Love.
But what kind of love was this ?

It is not directed towards the woman. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the love one may feel for a woman. As by strange alchemy my entire potentiality for affection, all that one can love and admire in the world was transferred to her. But at the same time this love became so pure, so sublimated that it merged into, and greatly intensified the call for the Absolute that I had always felt. All worldly attachment lost its attraction and the spiritual ascent became easier, since she had donned me the wings of Love.

For these eleven months that I have spent near Her have given me the conviction that She is the Lord Himself, incarnate in the body of a woman.

I thought that this Love (I am obliged to use this word for want of a better one, though it does not express exactly what it stands for) would disappear or at least dwindle with time. The very contrary has happened : It has only grown in intensity. For it is like with those ancient cities buried underground; as one delves deeper, ever more new marvels are brought to light.
Something that has struck me from the very first day is the atmosphere of the miraculous in which one moves when one is with Her.

Let me explain : In Europe (and no doubt here also) by the word "miracle" one conceives of a breaking away from the laws of nature, something that strikes one as impossible, as absurd. But this is only its crude, objective side. Its subtle, subjective aspect is quite different. What does it matter to me if a certain yogi has walked across the waters or flown through the air ?

The real miracle is, when that which one needs, which one desires keenly or feebly, comes at the very moment it is needed. And still better when it comes, not only as one desired it, but as one would have loved to see it in the innermost depth of one's heart.

It has been for me as if I were guided on a path beset with obstacles by the hand of the most loving Mother -an all-powerful Mother. As you advance She removes all which must be removed, She even lifts you across in Her arms. And all circumstances adjust and adapt themselves with a marvelous precision, without hurt.
"Coincidence", I thought at first. But a coincidence that goes on repeating itself daily cannot be called so anymore. And all this happens without apparently violating the laws of nature - for the Lord has no need to break any laws: He is the Law.

Should I give examples ? No, for those who do not know Her will not believe me and those who have lived near Her have already understood.
She is like the Ganges -Her very touch purifies. In Her presence one feels oneself getting better all the time. Not by the suppression of one's faults : The very fault is sublimated and becomes an aid in the search for the Divine.

She does not seem to notice or does not notice the dark sides of the individual. She only sees our luminous aspects, enhanced considerably by Her Divine mercy.