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write from right to left, and they do it most naturally. I am not speaking of those who have
        studied, reflected, compared ways of writing, I am not speaking of more or less learned
        people, no, I am speaking of quite ordinary people, and above all of children who do what
        is done around them, quite spontaneously and without questioning. But then, when by
        chance or circumstance they are faced with a different way, it is a tremendous revelation
        for them that things can be done in a different way from theirs.

        And these are quite simple things, I mean the ones which strike you, but this is true down
        to the smallest detail. You do things in this way because in the place and environment in
        which you live they are done in this way. And you do not watch yourself doing them.


        Indeed, the source was One, you see, and creation had to be manifold. And it must have
        represented quite a considerable labour to make this multiplicity conscious  of being
        multiple.

        And if one observes very attentively, if creation had kept the memory of its origin, it would
        perhaps never have become a diverse multiplicity. There would have been at the centre of
        each being the sense of perfect unity, and the diversity would — perhaps — never have
        been expressed.

        Through the loss of the memory of this unity began the possibility of becoming conscious
        of differences; and when one goes into the inconscient, at the other end, one falls back into
        a sort of unity that’s unconscious of itself, in which the diversity is as unexpressed as it is
        in the origin.

        At both ends there is the same absence of diversity. In one case it is through a supreme
        consciousness of unity, in the other through a perfect unconsciousness of unity.

        The fixity of form is the means by which individuality can be formed.


        That’s all, then.

                                                                           — The Mother*











             *The Mother. Collected Works of the Mother, Volume 9. Cent. ed. Pondicherry:
                           Sri Aurobindo Ashram Trust; 1977, pp. 43-8.

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