Undated May (?) 1960
(Letter to Mother from Satprem)
You sent me this flower, “Vital Collaboration.” I am taking this opportunity to tell you something which has been weighing on my heart for years and which, naturally, comes back up whenever things go badly.
I have been here seven years and I can't count a single concrete experience, not a single vision (the only things that have ever happened were in Ceylon or Rameswaram). I haven't even managed to have a few slightly conscious nights.
Isn't this reason enough to be discouraged? In any case, these questions are stirring in me – and the vital is not happy [nor the mental, nor the physical].
Excuse me if I speak too frankly.