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Outer things are beginning to take shape. The discussion which Baba started two weeks ago, when he propounded the alternative of our moving to Meherabad or staying at Nasik during the monsoon, and which was changed last week to a choice between Panchgani or Portofino, this week resolved itself into a decision that we were all to go to Nice for a year -- Baba, we sixteen Westerners, and an approximately equal number of Easterners. Kitty, Davy, Will and Mary Backett are to sail on the Rawalpindi on the 12th of June, meet Norina's sister Gita in Nice, and find a house for us to stay in. We are to follow on the Conte Rosso on July 8th.
Curiously enough, Southern France has come into my mind a number of times during the last week. In 1918, when I was in Paris on leave from the war front, a friend persuaded me to go with her to see Mme. M., a famous psychic with whom Maurice Maeterlinck had done a great deal of research. I went, but hesitantly. When I was ushered in to Mme. M., I said, naively, "Madame, I have never been to a psychic before. I believe in the existence of an inner spiritual world which we cannot normally see, but which can be seen by those who have clairvoyant vision. If you are so gifted, and if you are sincere, I shall be glad to have you tell me what you can. If not -- if you are a charlatan, and do this only for money -- I shall be glad to give you what you ask and go."
Madame M. answered me that she was sincere, and proceeded to read for me. Among the interesting things she told me was that I would later do a great deal of work along spiritual lines, including some writing which would interpret and intellectually clarify fundamental spiritual principles, but that this work would not really start until I had returned to Southern France with my Master! I knew nothing of Masters in those days.
Later, in The North Node days, when we were receiving messages from our unseen brothers -- (unseen to me, that is!) -- I was told both that I would have to revisit Southern France in this incarnation, and that one of the things that I had come to do in this life was to give a clear intellectual interpretation of profound spiritual truths.
The other night, after the vision of the two books, I remembered these prophecies of writing, wondered if the books had anything to do with them, and hoped, ardently, that if I had to write, before realization, I would be given the insight and the power to do it quickly and superlatively, so that I would have no barriers of unfinished work between me and the goal.
Now we are not only headed for Southern France with Baba, but he has indicated that I would write there under his direction! Last night at quarter of seven he came to my room with Jean, and said that the publication of the magazine, the editing of the disciples' impressions, and my fast would be postponed until our arrival in Nice. There we will be all together; there will not be so many details for Baba to attend to; and he will have more time.
So, after we arrive there, I am to be locked in a room by myself for six months, drinking only one glass of milk per day, seeing no one but Baba, who will visit me daily, writing, and doing one other thing which Baba will tell me.
"I must do something for this boy!" he spelled out on the board to Jean, who embraced Him.
The Nasik ashram was disbanded, and the Westerners left at the end of July. Some were at Cannes in August, 1937 with Baba.
After attending the Men's Sahavas in September, 1954, Malcolm Schloss passed away on the day Meher Baba gave up His alphabet board, October 7th. John Bass in New York received the following cables:
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