It was then also the time where this immersion in the Yoga started to destabilize us very deeply on levels that we believed pacified and mastered, in fact it was not at all the case, the resistance, the inner opposition were hidden there and waited for us at the turn of the facts reality.

Meanwhile, we would like so deeply that every genuflexion, every offering of his own presence in the present of the Moment became the only essential gesture of the sacrifice of the Works.
An immediate immersion right into the heart of the Yoga, a suffering of so much ‘non being’, everything around us organized itself without us knowing to reinforce our solitude and to reveal ourselves to the latitude-longitude of an adrift raft-being in a very precarious situation and, we have to admit… not so glorious. It was then necessary to dig again, to dig alone this sterile peat that we were then in contrast of what the aspiration of our soul had by the grace — and it is not an empty word ! — to led us to foresee and live in its intimate and secret language. In this sanctuary of the moment of the Samâdhi, we saw blossom that fragile and delicate flower of the soul, and Savitri revealed itself as the royal access path, every sentence, every Word seemed to be written for us especially, it was then the time of an orgy of sorrowful sweetness and true love so full that we could not truly realize at the moment, the power of Reality and intensity contained and lived through this experience, this same experience that carried us towards a formal realisation which was certainly in somewhere already, effected and mature, because in parallel to this translation, morning and afternoon, the pages of what will become DHANUSHMAT, lettres à une Auroville (book expressing in three singular languages of expression this singular quest of the soul) were written and flowing by themselves during three whole months without discontinuity. We had to discover how we were then impregnated from this Sri Aurobindo’s ‘spherical’ vision, and how we were undergone to its effects with the greatest happiness. This journey in Pondicherry could be briefly resume in two months of descent in our hell, three months of physical contact and three months of stagnation of an in between in prelude of our return in Occident. We lived this time as much as it was authorized and allowed at the Samâdhi as a grace. From our experience with Auroville, from this exile and this “errance” (wandering) so apparently anchored in our even nature of present life, we are “empathically” tied with this place although we still felt exterior and in effective solitude of fraternity. It is necessary to add that the Samâdhi, with this spatial setting with a Japanese touch combined with the presence of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo and the Indian vibration so specific of this Yoga, is a marvellous place and can be as it was the case for our experience a