Текст книги "Sensei of Shambala"

“Does it have any effect on the change in the level of brain activity?” Nikolai Andreevich asked.

“Sure. It launches a very interesting process in the brain. To put it in medical terms, a beta rhythm may be registered at the moment of the blow preparation and full mental concentration. A few minutes before the blow itself, an individual stops thinking about what he is doing. At this moment, his mind activity changes from beta rhythm to alpha rhythm, and it’s similar with the shock state. In this state, a blow is being struck. It is like a stoppage of time, perhaps. It’s not difficult. Just physics. That’s all.”

“We have one soldier in our platoon who breaks bricks,” Volodya joined the discussion. “The others tried to imitate him but didn’t succeed except with board punching.”

“It’s natural,” the Teacher uttered. “The mistake of many people is that they try to think too much, to analyze the situation. That’s why they are not successful.”

“Can you break bricks?” Andrew asked, unable to resist a temptation to see everything with his own eyes.

“It’s easy, just take a hammer and go forth,” Sensei joked.

“No, I meant with a palm,” Andrew specified.

“Why should I dirty up my hands? It’s better to break them with a piece of paper.”

“With a piece of paper?”

“Yes. I’m not sure about the bricks, but if it’s something wooden, easily. Does anybody have a sheet of paper?”

We started hastily looking for it in our pockets. Volodya tore a piece of paper out of his notebook, about five centimeters wide. Yura found a dry branch not far from us, around 3–4 centimeters in diameter.

“Does anybody want to try?” the Teacher suggested.

The guys in turn waved a piece of paper over the stick like true card-players, but nothing changed. Volodya had to tear off another piece of paper. Sensei wanted to give a piece of paper to me and Tatyana.

“No, no, no,” we waved our hands. “If these guys were unable to do it, what we can say of our muscles?”

“Muscles don’t play any role. It can be done by anybody who doesn’t doubt his abilities.”

With these words, the Teacher gripped a piece of paper between his forefinger and thumb in his outstretched hand. He concentrated and started to do a range of breathing exercises. After that, the paper started to vibrate a bit, its movement was gradually slowed down, and soon it stopped moving at all, becoming straight. In less than a minute, Sensei raised his hand slowly and cut the stick with one smooth movement. The cut looked as if it were made by something iron and sharp.

“Gosh!” our amazed group exclaimed.

We looked first at the branch, then at the paper, and after that at Sensei with one silent question, “How did he do it?”

Nikolai Andreevich assumed with doubts in his voice, “Was it a trick? You might have broken the branch with your finger in the very last moment.”

“Really?” It was Sensei’s turn to get surprised. “Have you ever seen a trick like this?”

He threw a piece of paper that went into the nearest tree just like a knife blade, complete with a metal sound. We had hardly put our lower jaws back in place as we rushed to the tree, as if there were an answer to the eternal question from Shakespeare, ‘To be or not to be?’ Nikolai Andreevich himself took out a paper-blade, even tasting it. It was circulated. This piece of paper seemed to be an ordinary iron plate, with all typical features. We stood completely at a loss, unable to believe our own eyes. Suddenly the plate in Slava’s hands started to lose its shape, gradually turning into an ordinary piece of paper. Slava noticed it, threw it into the air, and jumped quickly away with a piglet scream, causing the same reaction not only in us but in the senior guys as well. Volodya was the first who collected himself. He carefully picked up the former page of his notebook and said in a bass voice, “Why are you making noise? It’s just a piece of paper.”

We looked at the Teacher.

“It’s all right. It has just lost its power.”

When we calmed our stormy emotions, Sensei explained, “You have seen one more feature of the energy Qi – its ability to accumulate ions of metal. Since Qi is constructive energy, I concentrated and mentally inserted ions of iron into this piece of paper. My thought was implemented by Qi which, through my breath, brought these ions from the air into the paper. That’s why the paper turned into a metal plate for a time. Qi is a free energy – that’s why it dissolved in a few minutes, thus returning this plate to its original form.”

“Great!” Ruslan said with admiration. “And is it possible to Qi something like 2 kg of gold?”

The guys burst out laughing.

“Theoretically it’s possible.” Sensei smiled. “But in reality it’s like the saying in the Winnie the Pooh cartoon, ‘If there is honey, there is no honey.’ Remember physics: in order to retain ions of metal, you need strong molecular links. And these ions are connected by the energy Qi mixed up with psychic energy. Qi is the connecting link between ions of metal, and psychic energy creates any shape for a short period of time. But there will be no density at all.”

“Wow!” A hum buzzed through the crowd.

“That is the practical use!” Kostya discovered for himself. “And here I was thinking what’s the use of all of this? That’s great!”

“We can do so many things with it,” Ruslan said with a smile.

Everyone’s eyes shone with joy, and the guys started to discuss how to make use of this knowledge. Sensei observed all our excitement, keeping silent. And the more we boosted the situation in jokes, the gloomier and more serious his face became. Finally he said, “I see, guys, that you have too much animal nature in yourselves.”

“We’re just joking,” Ruslan uttered, trying to make an excuse for all of us.

“Many a true word is spoken in jest.”

“Right,” Volodya agreed while he was silently observing our jokes. “Otherwise it will be the same story as with the ninjas.”

We didn’t understand whether he was joking or telling the truth.

“What do you mean?” Andrew asked.

“What I’ve said,” Volodya said in a bass voice.

We looked at Sensei with a question in our eyes.

“Yes, there was such a story,” Sensei said. “Once a whole clan of ninjas was liquidated because they used spiritual knowledge with selfish motives.”

“We have not heard about it,” Ruslan said. “Tell us.”

“Yes, tell us,” we backed him up.

“There is nothing to tell… So long as ninjas trained their body and mastered their skills, they flourished. Nobody paid attention to them, actually. They were just hired assassins. But when ninjas started to master spiritual practices and learnt something, they started to use this knowledge for their material enrichment. It was a real hour of triumph for ninjas, so to say, their heyday and decline at the same time. They won fame immediately as invincible superkillers. Due to spiritual practices, ninjas developed their extraordinary abilities. They were able to turn everything into a weapon: any piece of paper, anything available. They learnt perfectly how to camouflage, to jump into a space and from a very big height, without any harm to their health and so on.”

“That’s great!” Slava burst out.

“Do not admire them,” the Teacher said after Slava’s exclamation. “And moreover do not create idols from them. They were just a gang of hired assassins who killed from behind, from an ambush. They were foul dregs and nothing else. They were directed by their material nature… They didn’t have any honor. And honor is one of the features of the general spirituality of a human, not just of a warrior, that is, when he is guided by high moral values. A man without honor is nobody and nothing.

“And what happened to the ninjas?” Jura asked.

“As usual in such cases, when they started to use spiritual practices for gaining their own material enrichment, they were liquidated.”

The guys bombarded Sensei with questions. But Ruslan was the most insistent of all, “How did they get this spiritual knowledge if they used it for their own devious purposes?”

“They didn’t get it. Ninjas stole it. More precisely, they wormed out the technique of meditations through deceit. And then they grew this seed of knowledge themselves. But they used it for bad things. That’s why they were punished.”

“Who punished them? You said yourself that they reached such a height that they became invulnerable to people,” Andrew put his question to Sensei.

Sensei grinned and cited his favorite saying, “You see, for every Vijai there is a Rajah… If there is military science, there is somebody who guides it. The same thing happens with spiritual practices. If there are spiritual practices, there is someone who controls the use of these practices. This knowledge is thus called spiritual as it is meant for spiritual enrichment of the individual, not material enrichment, especially not through killing living beings.”

“I have read that ninja schools still exist,” Kostya remarked.

“Yes, but the truth is, modern ninja schools are just a miserable parody of those that existed in ancient times. They still have their techniques and instruments. But all this training is focused on the material physical level. And the door to further perfection is closed. As the law says: spiritual for spiritual… And if you guys strive to learn the Art for material profits or satisfaction of your megalomania,” Sensei shook his head, gazing upon us, “no good will come of it.”

“Why?” Slava asked.

“First, you will never learn anything. Second, if, of course, you are lucky enough, you will gain at least schizophrenia.”

“Yes, it’s a nice future,” Ruslan said smiling.

“Well, there is no such threat for you,” Eugene said chuckling.

“But we are not going to kill anybody,” Andrew was looking for excuses.

“Physically, maybe not. But your thoughts contain too much of a beast. And this is the first step towards aggression and violence.”

“What should we do now?”

“Control your thoughts every second.”

Keeping silent for a while, Sensei added, looking at Andrew, “Have you ever thought about who you are in fact? Who you are in essence? Have you thought how you perceive the surrounding world? Not from the point of view of physiology, but from the point of view of life… Who are you? How do you see, how do you hear, why do you feel, who in you understands and, who exactly perceives? Look inside of yourself.”

Sensei continued addressing the guys, “Have you ever thought at all about the infinity of your consciousness? About what is the thought? How is it born, and where does it go? Have you thought about your thoughts?”

“Well,” Andrew became confused, “I think all the time, reflect on things.”

“It seems to you that it’s you who thinks and it’s you who reflects. But are you sure that these are your own thoughts?”

“Whose else? This body is mine, therefore the thoughts are mine as well.”

“Try to analyze them, if they are yours, at least for one day. Where do they come from, to where do they disappear? Dig through your thoughts thoroughly, and what will you see there except shit? Nothing. Just violence, just ugly things, just the desire to gorge yourself, to put on fashionable clothes, to steal, to earn, to buy, to raise your megalomania. And that’s all! You will see for yourself that all thoughts generated by your body end with one thing: the material supply around you. But is it really you inside yourself? Look into your soul and you will face the beautiful and eternal, your true “I”. All this external vanity around is just nonsense… Are you aware of it?”

We stood silent. Suddenly the scene seemed very familiar to me. It already happened to me once, in exactly the same way down to the smallest details: this word-for-word discussion, and this glade, and these bright stars, and most importantly, this voice familiar to the innermost of my heart, this kind face… I knew that it had already happened. But when, where? I tried to exert my memory, but I was unable to recollect it. I shook my head a little to get my mind out of this deadlock and back on track.

Sensei went on, “You have lived 16, 22, 30 years, and you, about 40 years. But each of you, do you remember how you lived? No, there are just some miserable scraps connected by emotional splashes.”

“Yes,” Nikolai Andreevich said in a thoughtful way, “life passed so quickly that I didn’t manage to notice it. All the time I spent studying, working, dealing with insignificant, endless family problems… There was no time to think about myself, about my soul, since there were always urgent things to do.”

“Exactly,” Sensei agreed. “You think about the future and about the past. But you live in this very moment called ‘now’. And what is now? It’s a precious second of life, it’s a gift of God that should be rationally used. Tomorrow is a step into uncertainty. It’s not improbable that it may be your last step in this life, a step to the abyss, to infinity. And what will happen there?

“Each of you believes that he has plenty of time on the Earth, that’s why you don’t think about death. But is it true? Each of you may die any second, for any reason, as on the one hand you are a biological being. But on the other hand, you are not just a biological being, you are a human who possesses a particle of eternity. Having realized it, you will understand that your fate is in your hands and a lot of it depends on you, not only here, but also there. Just think it over: who are you, a perfect biorobot or a human, an animal or a spiritual creature? Who?”

“Well, a human… maybe,” Ruslan said.

“Exactly, maybe. And what is a human, in fact, have you thought? Go deep inside of this question. Who feels in you, how do you move in the space, who moves your extremities? How do your emotions arise in you, why do they arise? And do not shift the blame onto someone who bothered you, offended you, or vice versa, if you envied, gloated, gossiped. Is it your spiritual nature in you?

“Find a crystal source of your soul in you, and you will understand that all this material glare – cars, flats, villas, social status – all this material wealth you spend your conscious life reaching for will turn into dust. Dust which immediately will be transformed in this source into nothing. And life passes by. Life which might be used by you to be transformed into the endless ocean of wisdom.

“What is the sense of life, have you ever thought about it? The highest sense of life of each individual is the cognition of his soul. Other things are all temporary, passing through, just dust and illusion. The only way to understand your soul is through your internal love, through moral purification of your thoughts, and through the absolutely firm self-confidence to reach this goal, that is through internal faith… Until you have a glimmer of life in you, it’s still not too late to recognize yourself, to find your basis, the holy life-giving spring of your soul. Get know yourself, and you will understand who you are in reality.”

15

After all we had seen and heard during that meditation, there was something to seriously think about, especially for me on the verge of death. “God, these are the answers to my questions, which I have been looking for for so long. Is it possible that this formula of achieving immortality is so simple? Control your thoughts, believe and love. Is it possible that I will reach a saving shore, an edge of eternity from which the immortals already observe life, all those who have recognized themselves and their divine nature?! Is it possible that my “I” will be able to break loose from death’s grip? Even if I don’t have time to “reconquer” my body, I will still be able to become free, and at least I will be prepared to meet with the unknown.” Such thoughts raised in me an unusual inspiration and a burst of internal power. I decided not to lay aside things for tomorrow but to start working immediately, right now. Because who knows what tomorrow will bring for me.

First I tried to examine my thoughts. But I felt so enthusiastic and inspired that I was unable to stop at something specific, as all my material thoughts suddenly disappeared under such a force. Then I started to investigate my feelings. Only now did I notice that I was so absorbed with my internal feelings that I started to look completely differently at even the outside world. This was some kind of a new vision, an unknown point of view for me on the old and, as they say, shabby problems.

A new vision surrounded me from all sides, like a cocoon, seizing my consciousness away from grey, everyday commonness with its trivial worries. I had the impression as if I existed by myself and the rest of the world by itself. Moreover, I observed for the first time the workings of my body from the outside. It was making its usual movements, as if it were on autopilot: it came home mechanically, took a shower mechanically, ate mechanically, and went mechanically into its separate corner, that is into the room. The real “I” at that time was observing it and thinking about its salvation. This small discovery shocked me. I found out that there is a true “I” in me and a kind of physical autopilot.

But the further the better. Once again having restored the conversation with Sensei in my thoughts, I recalled his words: “Have you ever thought how you move in space and who moves your extremities?” Examining myself from a new point of view, I reflected, “And really, who moves my extremities: the “I” or the autopilot?”

I looked at my open palm and decided to conduct a simple experiment. I thought, “I need to clench and undo my fist,” and my hand obediently executed it. “And now I am not going to move my fingers.” But this time, a wild thought flashed across my mind, “I’m still going to clench my fist.” My fingers, under the influence of this “order,” gripped and released again. “Oh!” I was surprised. “And who was that thinking in me? Who is there playing boss in my thoughts?!” Gathering myself up again this time, I was more persistent and concentrated my thoughts: “I won’t move my fingers. That’s what I want, and let it be so.” Strangely enough, my hand didn’t even move, and this wild, mad thought pretended to have never existed in my mind.

“Oho!” I was surprised even more. “It means that when I was relaxed in my thoughts, this someone started to invisibly manage my consciousness and my body by his will. And when I strictly control a thought, he disappears somewhere without a trace. Gosh!” Nevertheless, I was so happy to find out this fact, it was as if I had traced a spy thoroughly camouflaged for many years in my most secret department. “Yes, this clever boy is much more dangerous than that stupid autopilot. I should be more vigilant!”

It’s easy to say but hard to do. When I started to practice meditations, I understood that this dodger visited my thoughts all the time in the moment of relaxation, and especially during concentration on meditation, constantly diverting my attention on outside matters. He carried it all out in such a clever and logical way that I didn’t notice when I went off track in concentration. But when I concentrated my thoughts on meditation deeply and clearly, the dodger disappeared. But I needed only to weaken control and he would appear again. “What a skunk! Impudent and bothersome,” I thought, trying once again to concentrate on meditation. When I finished a meditation, I understood that it was not easy to fight with my number one enemy. “I will need to ask Sensei how to find justice for this dodger,” I thought, falling asleep. “Otherwise he is going to spoil everything for me.”

The next morning, when my splash of emotions had faded away a little after yesterday, I began again to observe myself from outside. Once again, my body somehow came off the warm bed and started to mechanically perform its morning ritual, getting ready for school. My mind, as it seemed to me, was sweetly sleeping, and that’s why I didn’t feel like thinking about anything. Walking the usual road to school through the city square, I was enjoying the surrounding stillness, the morning freshness, the rustling of fallen leaves. I really liked this state of peace. My mind slept, my body walked in a given direction, while I just felt well and cozy inside of myself. I felt that this was my true “I”.

But in school, the situation changed immediately. I flew into a tornado of events, information, emotions. As a result, I was completely confused about the nature of my thoughts because they came in a continuous torrent, and it was hard to sort out them, what was mine and what was foreign. And the whole day passed in this wild rhythm.