Later that night I talked with Daniel.

          “Well, little poet, you are really in for it not.  Hold on to your life belt.  She’s [Mother Mera] pouring the gasoline into the car.  I have the feeling you’ll get driven very fast.”  He rubbed his hands.  “I’m going to enjoy this!”

          He made me one of his endless collections of teas.  “You will be taught in your way as I have been taught in mine.  I have not seen Light often.  I’m not clairvoyant.  My experiences have been of Light entering the head and body.

          “This Light can work in a lot of different ways -- rather like ordinary light, which is both a wave and a particle, this Light can take on many different forms.  God only knows how.  I’ve long since given up questioning how.  It’s enough work just keeping up with what’s actually happening.  Divine Technology doesn’t divulge its secrets easily.”

          “Although, during the Process you are given what you need to understand what is happening?”

          “Sometimes you have to guess a little, or wait.  But that makes it all the more exciting.  Be prepared for the plunges.”

          The plunges?”

         “Well, little poet, I know in a poem everything would go beautifully and quickly.  But real processes are not quite like that.  There is a lot of crisscrossing and staggering and sheer error.  You make an advance, then you fall back and hit your head on the floor again.  You have a run of exquisite, perfect days, and then you repeat all the old rubbish.  It takes time to get the hang of it.  It’s a little like playing a complicated piece of music.  You have to practice bits of it at a time, over and over again, with discipline, then slowly put it together and play it all through several hundred times until it becomes as natural to you as breathing in and out, or taking a leak.  Ma’s [Mother Mera] is a revolutionary method and works fast.  But don’t think it is easy.  Even  if the Divine Light is beaming at you, sometimes you feel, I just can’t take any more of this.  I want to go out and get drunk.  The ego hold on to its pleasures, its silly doomed pleasures, with a tenacity that would be touching if it were not so deadly.”