(The word symbol comes from the Greek symbolon, which
means contract. In its original meaning the symbol represented a greater whole
by means of a part. The part guaranteed the presence of the whole.)*
Our contemporary
world has lost much of the original meaning, so it is important to remember
that the Mother’s symbol is more than just a beautiful design. Chosen by
herself, it is already a part of herself, half of a Truth that promises the
fullness of Truth to the seeker who is sincere. This I have known for a long
time, and yet have never thought to mediate upon the symbolic image of a lotus
in full bloom now lying on the table in front of me. Was it fear that held me
back – the fear of being found wanting? I make a conscious effort to dismiss
these thoughts, and with a silent mind prepare to receive whatever comes. I
decide to make a record of it, because too often, when the mind returns to its
usual preoccupation with immediate surroundings, insights and glimpses that
occur in a state of meditation vanish like a dream.
I am looking at
a beautiful representation of the symbol in which the twelve outer petals of
the lotus are pictured in full colour. My eyes are immediately drawn to these colours
and the named qualities associated with them: the red and orange shades of
Courage, Progress and Receptivity; the yellow and golden tones of Aspiration
and Perseverance merging into the light green of Gratitude; a darker green
Humility becoming Sincerity’s blue and deepening into Peace; the purple of a
spiritual Equality embracing the violet and magenta of Generosity and Goodness.
I understand that wherever these qualities are found, the Mother’s presence is
also there. But why these and no others? The mental consciousness will not be
silent, loudly asserting its right to know! Why is Patience not here, though
greatly valued by the Mother - we are told that she often wore a bracelet of
‘patience’ flowers around her wrist – and where is Humour, so highly prized by
Sri Aurobindo himself? I push these questions aside, knowing that answers will
come when I am ready to receive them. I begin to meditate on the relationship
between the colours and the human qualities assigned to them.
In no time at
all, it seems, I am inside the Mother’s room in the Ashram. I am very conscious
of everything that is happening around me. Huta is there with one of her
paintings and the Mother is giving her a lesson. She leans forward and says:
‘You see, these colours are lights.’ Of
course they are! Suddenly the petals of the lotus are radiant like gemstones
and I see them as delegated powers of the One Light. In a moment my
consciousness becomes flooded with images from ages past when rich jewels
adorned the breastplates of priests and the crowns and regalia of kings, prized
not for their rarity and value but because they signified contact with the gods
or a sign of their favour.
My gaze moves to
the centre of the lotus and the four white heart-shaped petals. These symbolize
the manifesting Powers to which Indian tradition has given the names Mahakali,
Mahalakshmi, Maheshwari and Mahasaraswati. It is they, emerging from Shunya (the void) who preside over the
evolution of the Earth. In imagination I separate the petals and pile them one
on top of the other – there is no overlap. They too are One Light, and each
contains the ‘wholeness’ of all the others. Gradually I find myself
surrendering the power of thought to the power of imagination. I become aware
of the ‘void’, represented by a tiny circle. (In reality it is not a void, but
so-called because no human mind can comprehend its nature.)
All my attention
is now fixed upon that little space, and I want to pass through it, to know
what is on the other side. For a long time no thought or image arises but
eventually words come up as if from a storehouse of memory: “(He) entered where Wings of Glory brood /
In the sunlit space where all is forever known”. These evocative lines from
‘Savitri’ remind me of Sri
Aurobindo’s quest and his vision of an integral Yoga for the transformation of
the world. Only the soul or the perfected psychic being can pass through the
eternal gates – the untransformed mental, vital and physical consciousness
would be forced to abdicate in the intensity of the Light. They would be left
behind and the world would continue to exist in the old way under the yoke of
the powers of falsehood and death. A sudden longing rises in my heart for the
rainbow coloursof the Lotus wheel, symbols of the path of transformation that
is the Mother’s work.
But now I no
longer need the printed picture. The lotus lives in the inner eye of
imagination where it has a life and a vitality of its own: no longer an
outline, an abstraction. The one we call
the Mother is a force in action and her symbol, no more ‘abstract’ than the
telephone number of a friend, can be a means of making contact with a living
Presence. The image of an old fashioned telephone with itscircular numbered
dial intrudes upon my meditation and I smile at the thought of telephoning the
Mother.
A finger of
imagination touches the blue of a cloudless sky that the Mother has named
Sincerity. The origin of this word goes back to antiquity, to a Latin phrase
meaning “without wax.” It refers to the common practice of disguising faults
and cracks in the marble used by sculptors by filling them in with wax, so that
when painted over the flawed statue would appear to be perfect. The Mother
called Sincerity above all ‘the transforming power’ and perhaps it is the most
difficult of all the qualities for our human nature to sustain.
The colourful
ring begins to turn – slowly at first, then faster and faster until the colours
run together. The black lines separating the lotus petals disappear to reveal a
brilliant rainbow of light in which every possible shade and variation of
colour is contained. No longer can the qualities represented by those colours
be separated in an arbitrary way. Perseverance embraces Patience, and a Humour
that can laugh at self and smile in the face of adversity goes hand in hand
with Courage. The lotus wheel continues to spin until finally there is only the
blinding white light of the Mother – her diamond light.
“Rose of God, damask force of Infinity, red icon of
might,
Rose of power with thy diamond halo piercing the
night!
Ablaze in the will of the mortal, design the wonder of
thy plan
Image of immortality, outbreak of the Godhead in man.”
How can it be
that I have read Sri Aurobindo’s wonderful poem so many times, talked about it,
written about it –always without seeing its intimate connection with the inner
meaning of the Mother’s symbol? How could I not have recognized a mystical
truth uniting the wheel of refracted colour as a symbol of earthly life and Sri
Aurobindo’s “Rose of life, crowded with
petals, colour’s lyre!”? Meditating
on these two symbols, the lotus and the rose, I see both arising from the
shared consciousness of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother.
Memory takes me
back many years to find myself once again in Singapore on a Sunday evening,
listening to Mrs. Dhana read the opening words of the Mother’s prayer:
“My aspiration to Thee, O Lord, has taken the form of
a beautiful rose, harmonious, full in bloom, rich in fragrance. I stretch it
out to Thee with both arms in a gesture of offering and I ask of Thee: if my
understanding is limited, widen it; if my knowledge is obscure, enlighten it;
if my heart is empty of ardour, set it aflame; if my love is insignificant and
egoistic, make it intense; if my feelings are ignorant and egoistic, give them
the full consciousness in the Truth.”
(Prayers and Meditations 25.10.14)
It is a prayer I
know very well and though I used to listen with love and admiration, I somehow
never thought to make this prayer my own. And now at last I see this Rose not simply as an image of
the Mother’s own aspiration, but as the special gift she was offering to
everyone seated there in that room. Perhaps this is why meditation on a lotus
turned into another chance to accept, with infinite gratitude, the gift of a
rose. One could not wish for a greater blessing.
(*The definition of the word ‘symbol’ is taken from an
article in Encyclopaedia Britannica)
-
Sonia Dyne
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