Mother says:
1
“You see, this is my state: you may go out and smear yourself with mud, but when you return home, I wash you and feed you”. That is the position. If you can understand it, you can forget yourselves, and know that you have no responsibilities. What more do you need? This is a blissful state that is not the lot even of a person who experiences the mystic state of samadhi for a little while and then returns to consciousness of the world.
One of the most revelatory of Mother’s affirmations here is, it seems to me, the testament of her love. What strikes us most, instantly, is the absence of any complexity or ambiguity in what she tells us. It answers many doubts which we generally have. The primary doubt, for which we seek clarification almost perennially, is: “how does an incarnate Divine live? What is her or his state of consciousness? Are they exceptions which we can admire and not emulate?” Like this our mind is shot through with such questions. Here is Mother telling exactly and exquisitely what that condition is.
2
“You see, this is my state,” she says. The word “see” is a simple expression. Quite often it is used in ordinary conversation, without any awareness of its deeper overtones. Here, however, Mother seems to be addressing the sincere seeker who alone will “desperately” try to absorb the implications. The emphasis is on “you”. You, as an individual who has jijnasa – intense curiosity, not just the kind of curiosity which is peripheral and casual.
One cannot equate “seeing” Mother with other areas of seeing. Here the eyes which see are lenses of consciousness which, using the eyes, goes beyond what only the eyes can see. This is not a play on words. There is what is called the “inner eye” , the antarchakshu we call it. This is, perhaps, what is suggested when sages suggest it. Paradox, “we have eyes but cannot see.”
3
The next sentence begins with the actual condition (sthithi) of what Mother sees about and around us but we may not ourselves see. And this is, according to Mother, we go out and defile ourselves. The exact word is mud, the earth. “Out of dust we come and to dust we return,” they say. A very shrewd statement. We smear ourselves with mud. But mud can be recycled. Indeed, it is out of mud and mire alone that everything which makes existence possible comes. Food grains, oil reserves, coal – name the thing we get it from earth and its mud.
When the extension is made, there is also the suggestion that it could be taken as Bhoodevi, the Earth Mother who sustains and nourishes us. Amma herself says: “Mother is like the Earth itself, which accumulates filth as well as good things. Whether a thing is good or bad is your concern-the earth and Mother make no such distinction.” Therefore, like a vessel which is full of dirt and mud is quite often cleaned with the same mud, we are also both defiled, tainted and also transformed by the will and grace of Mother alone. (There is a beautiful song by Kabir in which mud (mati) tells the potter that “a time will come when I (mud) will knead you just as you are kneading me”.
It is begins “Maati Kahe kumhar se…. thu kya rondhe…”)”
IV
But then to get washed, we need to “come home.” Coming home in all spiritual traditions is the symbol for return to our unsullied condition. In fact, Lex Hixon, a famous writer on mystical traditions, wrote a book on this theme called Coming Home. Do we wish to come home to Mother? You may think that this is a naïve question. Perhaps, it is not. It may be risky to generalize, but for most of us a house can exist but a home needs to be made. A house is not a home, though we may not always feel the distinction due to reasons beyond our control; (Not that anything is under our control).
An analogy may perhaps explain the situation. Let us imagine that Mother sent a message that she is visiting our house. We feel immensely delighted. We make everything worthy of her visit. That our house is appropriately spruced up to receive her. Discordant notes (if any) disappear. A sense of devotion and harmony asserts itself. At least there is a temporary interval to our usual bickering. The house becomes a real home, worthy for Mother to set her holy feet inside. The odd thing here is the negatives are subdued and they become reverse: they become positives. In short, positives are potentially there. They now manifest themselves. Mother is the key. She can imbue everything with harmony.
“I wash you and feed you,” says Mother. (says categorically, without the slightest doubt). In another context she says: “Whatever your condition in life, do not hesitate to come to me.” Then why hesitation? Because of an ingrained psychological split. Generally, we analyze things positively and negatively and the ego which divides, identifies with the positive. Good. But then the mind is a mess and focuses on negatives. This is a natural phenomenon.
What is Mother’s attitude? “The child is never at fault in the mother’s eyes. It is in spite of his faults, and perhaps because of them, she loves him and corrects him.” A good example which confirms this (not that Mother needs confirmation!) is our body: in the body itself flows both “pure” and “impure” blood. Mother as Nature incarnate makes a fine blend of both, so that things move harmoniously at times and disorderly at some other times.
“That is the position” says Mother. Let us see the further dimensions of that position in the next issue.
All citations in this essay are from Mother of All by Richard Schiffman (Pub: San Diego: Calif; Blue Dove Press, Zool.)