By Vladimir Megre
Translated from Russian by
John Woodsworth;
Edited by Leonid Sharashkin
http://educate-yourself.org/cn/megrethoughtscreatereality12aug14.shtml#top
August 12, 2014
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Man's life! On what or on whom does it depend? Why do some become emperors or regimental commanders, while others are obliged to fend for scraps at garbage dumps? One opinion holds that each person's fate is pre-determined from birth. That would make man nothing more than an insignificant cog in some mechanised system, and not the highly organised creation of God.
According to a different opinion, Man (1) is a self-sufficient creation, including, without exception, all the diverse energies of the vast Universe. But there is in Man an energy peculiar to him alone. It is known as tbe energy of thought. Once Man realises just what kind of energy is in his possession and learns to exploit it to the full, then he will be a ruler of the whole Universe.
Which of these two mutually exclusive definitions of Man is true? Perhaps the following ancient parable - you could call it an anecdote - will help us arrive at the answer.
A man fed up with his life ran out into the woods at the edge of town, threw up his hands, clenched his fists and railed at God:
"I can't go on with my life. Your earthly household is filled with nothing but injustice and chaos. Some people go gallivanting 'round town in expensive cars and dine in fine restaurants, while others fend for scraps at garbage dumps. Me, for instance - why; I ain't got enough money to buy me a new pair of shoes. If You, God, are just - that is, if You exist at all - then make my lottery ticket hit the jackpot."
At that moment the clouds parted in the heavens, a warm
sunbeam caressed the complainant's face and a calm, clear
voice sounded from above:
"Do not worry; My son. I am prepared to fulfil your request"
The man was overjoyed. He walked along the street with a smile on his face, happily peering into shop windows and imagining what kind of goods his lottery winnings might buy.
A year passed. The man won nothing. He concluded God had let him down. Now the man, who by this time was really fed up, went back to the same place in the woods where he had heard God's promise and cried:
"You didn't keep your promise to me, God. You let me down. I've been waiting for a whole year now. I've been dreaming about the things I'll buy with the money I win. But a whole year's gone by; and I ain't got no winnings yet."
"Oh, My dear son," came the sad response from the heavens."You wanted to win a lot of money in the lottery. So why over the whole year did you not buy a single lottery ticket?"
This little parable or anecdote has been making the rounds lately. People tend to laugh at the loser."How come he didn't catch on that for his dream to come true he first had to buy at least one lottery ticket?" they ask. "But this chap didn't even take the most obvious first step!" It's not the parable itself that's important here, or whether this situation ever actually happened. What is important is how people relate to the chain of events recounted in this story.
The fact that people laugh at the unfortunate dimwit tells us that they intuitively, perhaps subconsciously, realise that their own future life depends not on some kind of Higher Power or Divine Design, but on themselves too.
And now everybody can try and analyse their own life situations. Have they done everything they possibly can on their own to make their dream come true? I dare say, and not without some justification, that any dream - even one that seems to be unreal and utterly fantasaical - will come true if only the individual wanting it to come true takes simple and consistent actions toward his goal. This statement could be illustrated with a whole range of examples. Here is one of them.
Chapter 2: A Bride for an English Lord
One day at a small local market in the city of Vladimir I happened to witness an incident between a young salesgirl and an inebriated male customer. The girl was selling cigarettes. She was evidently new on the job and hadn't yet boned up very well on her merchandise. She was getting the brand-names of the cigarettes mixed up and took a long time to wait on each customer. A small queue had formed - about three people. The last person in line, a drunken male, shouted out to the salesgirl:
"Hey, can't you move a little faster, bird brain!"
The girl's cheeks blushed bright red. Several passers-by stopped to stare at the hapless girl. The drunk continued shouting out his unflattering remarks. He wanted to buy two packs of Primas, but when his turn came, the girl refused to serve him. Flushed with embarrassment and clearly having a hard time holding back her tears, she declared to the customer:
"You are being insulting, and I refuse to serve you."
At first the man was dumbfounded at this unexpected turn of events. Then he faced the growing crowd of gawkers and launched into an even more insulting tirade:
"Will you just look at this stupid jackass?! If you got yourself a husband, he'd complain in no uncertain terms if you hobbled about the kitchen like a lame hen!"
"I wouldn't let even my husband insult me like that," the girl replied.
"Who d'you think you are, anyway? Nothing but a stubborn jackass!" the inebriated man went on, shouting even louder and more irritatingly. "She won't let her husband - Maybe you're planning on marrying some English lord?"
"Maybe a lord, that's my business," replied the girl tersely and turned away. The situation was heating up. Neither side was willing to give in. A sizeable crowd of market regulars had gathered to watch things unfold. Onlookers began scoffing at the young salesgirl's declared intention to marry an English lord. Another girl came over from the next stall and stood beside her friend. She just stood there, without saying a word. They stood there silently; two young girls who looked to be just out of high school. The crowd that had gathered were now talking amongst themselves about the girls' insolent and haughty behaviour.
Most of the snide remarks were about the girl's pie-in-the-sky hopes of marrying a lord, along with her over-estimation of her attributes and opportunities. The dilemma was solved by a young man, the owner of the market stalls. When he first approached, he demanded in rather severe tones that the girl sell the cigarettes to the customer. However, after hearing her refusal, he quickly hit upon a solution satisfactory to all. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a fifty-rouble note and addressed the girl:
"Madam, if you would be so kind, and if it is not too much trouble, please sell me two packages of Primas."
"Of course," responded the girl, handing him the cigarettes. The young man in turn passed the cigarettes to the male customer. The conflict was over and the crowd dispersed. This story has a sequel a quite unexpected one at that. Each time I went by the market thereafter, I couldn't help paying attention to these two young salesgirls. They worked just as deftly as their senior fellow-workers, but at the same time significantly distinguished themselves from them. They were slender of figure, modestly but neatly dressed, makeup not overdone, and their movements were far more elegant than the others'. The girls continued working at the market for almost a year and then both disappeared at the same time.
It was about six months later, in the summertime, at the same market, that I noticed an elegant young woman walking beside the fruit stalls. She stood out from the crowd by her proud bearing and fashionable expensive attire. This striking young woman was accompanied by a dapper-looking gentleman carrying a basket filled with a variety of appetizing fruits.
It dawned on me that this young woman who was attracting all sorts of attention from the men around - as well as (no doubt) jealous glances from the women was none other than the friend of the cigarette salesgirl. I went over and explained to the young couple especially to the lady's concerned companion the reason for my curiosity. Finally the woman recognised me. We sat down at a table in an open-air cafe and Natasha (as she was called) recounted to me the events that had taken place over the past year and a half. Her story went as follows:
The day when Katya had that incident with the customer in front of all the regulars we decided to quit our jobs so people wouldn't laugh at us. You remember how Katya said back then that she was going to marry an English lord. And people laughed at her. We realised they would go on laughing and pointing fingers at us. But we didn't manage to find work anywhere else. You see, we'd just finished high school, and didn't make it when we applied to college. Well, all right, I got average marks, but Katya was a real brain. She passed her exams with flying colours, but still didn't get in. They'd cut back on the number of free college places, and she didn't have the money to pay for her education - her mum makes a pittance, and there's no dad. So we ended up taking sales jobs at the market, since they wouldn't hire us anywhere else. We began working and swotting [studying hard] to sit the next year's college exams. But a week after the incident at the market Katya all of a sudden turns to me and says:
"I've got to prepare myself to be worthy of being the wife of an English lord. Do you want to train along with me?"
I thought she was joking, but she was dead serious. Even back at school Katya had always been pretty obsessive about whatever she put her mind to. She went to the library and found the syllabus of a seminary (2) for young ladies, which she adapted to modern times. And we started training like crazy according to Katya's syllabus. We did dancing and aerobics, we studied English and English history, along with the rules of etiquette and good manners. We watched political discussions on TV so we could hold conversation with intelligent people. Even while we were at work in our stall we tried to behave as though we were at a high-society gathering, so that our manners would acquire a natural feel. We earned money, but didn't spend it on ourselves. We didn't even buy makeup, so we could save. We were saving so we could have fancy outfits custom made, as well as for a trip to England.
Katya said, you see, that English lords would never come round a small market like this in Vladimir, which meant we had to go to England. Our chances would be far greater there. So we went to England with a tourist group. The two weeks there simply flew by. Of course, you understand, there were no English lords to greet us or take us around. And I really had no expectations for myself - I was just doing this to keep Katya company. But she actually had hopes. Once she gets something into her head, that's it. She never stopped looking every Englishman in the face, searching for her intended. We even went to a dance club a couple of times, but nobody asked us to dance, not even once.
It was the day of our departure, and we were on our way out to the motor coach from our hotel, and Katya still kept looking around, ever hopeful. We stopped right on the hotel steps, when Katya suddenly puts her bag down, looks off to one side and says: "Here he comes!"
I look, and lo and behold, walking along the sidewalk toward us is a young man, minding his own business and paying no attention to us. Just as I expected, he came right up to where we were standing, but didn't even glance at Katya and walked right by. And then all of a sudden Katya - coo, blow me away! - calls out to him.
The young man turns to look at us. Katya goes up to him slowly but confidently and says to him in English: "My name is Katya. I am from Russia. Now I am leaving to go to airport on a bus with my tour-group. I have approached you ... I have feeling that I can make you a very good wife. I do not yet love you, but I shall be able to love you, and you will love me. We shall have good children together. A little boy and a little girl. We shall be happy together. And now, if you wish, you can accompany me to say good-bye at airport"
The young man just stood there staring intently at Katya without saying a word. He was dumbfounded, no doubt from the shock. Then he said he had an important business meeting, wished her bon voyage and walked off.
The whole way to the airport Katya sat staring out the window. We didn't say a word to each other. Both Katya and I felt awkward in front of all the tourists who saw the scene in front of the hotel. I could literally feel my skin tingling at all those people making fun of Katya and accusing her. But when we arrived at the airport and were getting off the coach, right there was none other than this same young Englishlnan, greeting Katya with a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand.
She put her bag down no, she simply let it fall to the pavement. She didn't take the bouquet, but buried her head in his chest and began crying. He dropped the bouquet, and the flowers scattered all over. I helped the other tourists gather them up, while they just stood there. And the Englishman was stroking Katya's head. And as though there were nobody else around, he kept telling her what a fool he was for almost letting fate slip through his fingers, how if he didn't catch up with her, he would suffer for it his whole life, and kept on thanking Katya for finding him. Meanwhile, as it turned out, the plane's departure was delayed. I shan't tell you how, but I was the one who managed to delay it.
Her Englishman turned out to be from a family of British diplomats and he himself was about to be posted to some embassy. As soon as we got back to Russia, he started ringing up Katya every day. They'd talk for hours. Katya's now in England, and pregnant. I think they really do love each other. And now I believe in love at first sight.
When Natasha finished telling me her amazing story, she gave a smile to her companion sitting beside her. I asked whether they had known each other long. And the young man answered:
"You see, I was in the same tourist group. When the Englishman's flowers got strewn all over, Natasha started picking them up, and I began helping her. Now I carry her fruit basket for her. Who are we, compared to English lords?!"
Natasha lovingly placed her hand on her companion's shoulder and said with a smile: "And just who are they compared to you ~ our Russian men?!"
Then the happy girl turned to me and said:"Andrei and I got married a month ago. And here we are, come to see my parents."
After hearing the story of these girls, a lot of people might think: well, they were just lucky. Not a typical situation. But if I dare say it, the situation in this case was absolutely typical and entirely normal. More than that, I would affirm that other girls could predict a similar destiny for themselves if they are prepared to follow the pattern set by Katya and Natasha. Of course there may be certain differences - names, the type of suitor, and the time-frame involved - but a similar situation happening with others is already a predetermined fact. Predetermined by whom? By the girls themselves, their way of thinking and the consistent steps they take toward their goal. Think about it. Katya had a dream, or a goal: to marry an Englishman. What prompted this dream is unimportant. She was probably turned off by the atmosphere of the market, the drunken customers and how rude they were, or maybe the shameful taunts of the customer in question.
In any case, a dream was born. What of it? What young girl doesn't dream of a prince driving a white Mercedes, and yet still ends up marrying a typical loser? In the vast majority of cases their dreams do not come true. I concede that, of course, but the reason they don't come true is simply that their actions, or more precisely, their inaction in respect to their dream is like the anecdote about the lottery ticket when someone dreams about winning big at the lottery and even asks God for help, but doesn't take the first elementary step of buying a single ticket. The girls began taking action, and a consistent pattern was realised: dream - thought - action. Try removing just one of these elements from the chain, and the girls' fate would have turned out completely differently.
Chapter 3: You Create Your Own Destiny
Man's destiny! Many are wont to think that Man's fate is decided by someone up there. But this 'someone' simply makes available to every Man the most powerful energy in the Universe - an energy capable of not only shaping its holder's destiny; but of creating whole new galaxies. This energy is called human tbought.
It is not enough just to know that this is so. One must become consciously aware of this phenomenon - one must feel it.
How completely we are able to become aware of it, to feel and understand it, determines the degree to which the secrets of this vast Universe of ours unfold before us, the degree to which we perceive how its wonders - or, more precisely; its natural phenomena - work.
It is only the conscious awareness and acceptance of the energy of thought that will allow us to make our lives and the lives of our loved ones truly happy. And yet it is precisely a happy life that is predestined for Man on the Earth. And so we are obliged to persuade ourselves of the indisputability of the following conclusions:
First: Man is a thinking being.
Second: tbe power of the energy of tbought bas no equal in tbe Universe: everytbing we see, including ourselves, is created by tbe energy of thougbt. We can name off millions of objects from a primitive hammer to a space ship, yet the appearance of each one of these is preceded by thought.
We can name off millions of objects from a primitive hammer to a space ship, yet the appearance of each one of these is preceded by thought.
Our imagination builds a material object in space unseen to our eyes. Just because we don't yet glimpse its materialisation doesn't mean that the object doesn't exist. It is already constructed in mental space, and this is more significant than its subsequent materialisation.
A space ship is constructed by the thought of one or more people. We still don't see it, we can't touch it, yet at the same time it exists! It exists in a dimension invisible to us, but later it materialises, taking on a form we can see with our ordinary sight.
Which is more important in the construction of a space details according to the blueprints presented to him, or the thought of the designer and builder? Of course the physical labour on any project is absolutely necessary; but nothing can displace the primacy of tbougbt.
A real space ship can suffer a catastrophic accident, caused not by some kind of defective part, but always by an inadequately developed thought. In ordinary parlance it is known as tbougbtlessness.
Thought is capable of foreseeing any kind of accident. In thought there are no unforeseen situations. Yet all sorts of accidents and irregularities do happen. Why? Because of haste in turning the project into material reality; not allowing it to be sufficiently thought through.
Anyone who thinks this through on their own can come to the same indisputable conclusion: all objects that have ever been manufactured on the Earth are materialised thoughts.
Now it is vitally necessary to realise that absolutely all life situations, including life itself, are formed first of all in thought.
The world of living Nature which we see, including Man himself, was originally formed by God's thought.
Just like God, Man is capable of forming with his thought not only new objects but his own life situations as well.
If your thought is insufficiently developed, or prevented by some cause from freely making use of its inherent energy and speed capabilities, your life situations will be influenced by somebody else's thoughts - possibly the thoughts of your family, acquaintances, or society in general.
But note that even in this case your life situations are determined afore time by human thought. And you have only yourselves to blame if you have choked and imprisoned your own thinking, thereby subjecting yourselves to the will of another person's thoughts, meaning that your successes or failures in life are already dependent on this other person or persons.
You may be persuaded of what I have just said through a variety of examples in life. Think what a Man does before becoming a famous performing artist? First of all he dreams about it, naturally, then thinks up a plan of how to attain his dream, and then steps into action. takes part in amateur productions, studies at an appropriate school, and then takes a job in the theatre, film studio or symphony orchestra.
Some people may protest and say that while everybody dreams of becoming the most famous performing artist, only a few actually achieve this, while others are obliged to look for work in another field that has nothing to do with a career in the arts. Besides the dream, one needs talent too. Yes, of course, that is true. But talent is also a product of the power of thought.
What about physical and natural gifts? They are significant, of course. But, then again, human thought is not so stupid as to inspire a legless person to enroll in a ballet school.
How can it be, the reader may wonder: if everything, even one's profession and well-being, depended on one's own thoughts, then surely everybody would be rich and famous, and there wouldn't be any people eking out a pitiful existence, rummaging through garbage dumps in search of something to eat?
Well, now, let's head off to a garbage dump, in the literal sense of the word.
Chapter 4: 'Garbage-dump thinking'
I did this in the following manner. I let some stubble grow on my face, rumpled my hair and borrowed some old work clothes from a painter friend. Then I took a plastic bag and a stick and walked up to a garbage dumpster. I rummaged about with a stick in garbage and came up with several empty bottles, which I put into the plastic bag, before proceeding to the dumpster at a neighbouring building. My efforts were rewarded. I had been at the second dumpster no more than ten minutes - fifteen tops - when I was virtually set upon by a man wielding a metal rod in his hands.
"Keep your paws off what doesn't belong to you," he said in a tone that brooked no contradiction.
"You're saying that this is your territory?" I asked calmly; taking a few steps back from the dumpster, at the same time handing him my plastic bag with the bottles.
"Whose else would it be?" the man replied, already sounding less aggressive than before. He took my bag and began raking through the contents of the garbage dump, paying no attention to me.
"Maybe you could show me where there's some freebies around?" I enquired, adding: "I'll make it worth your while."
"White," responded the unofficial owner of the dumpster.
I went to the store and picked up a bottle of 'white' vodka (3) along with a few snacks. Over drinks we got to know each other, and Pavel shared with me a lot of the tricks of his trade, and believe me, there were quite a few.
You have to know, for example, what days especially to guard against 'transients' like me invading and pinching one's 'property'. Especially after holidays, when a lot of bottles get tossed out. It is also important to know which refuse materials contain base metals, and how to collect them - some dealers pay more for glass containers and base metals. And to know what to do with discarded clothing that's still fit to wear.
I attempted to change the subject.
While Pavel was capable of expressing his opinions on politics and the government, he did so with considerably less interest. He had a one-track mind everything revolved around the dumpsters. As a final conclusive test I suggested the following to him: "You know, Pavel, there's a chap building a house not too far away who's looking for a security guard over the winter, as well as to help in the construction, for which he's willing to pay extra. And supply groceries to boot. Every week his driver brings potatoes, onions and cereal. You're a decent fellow - he'll hire you. If you like, we can go have a word with him."
After a few drinks, as might be expected, we had become friends. Which made the sudden sharp shift in his mood all the more unexpected. First he spent about thirty seconds in intensive thought. Then after staring at me another thirty seconds in a kind of standoffish silence, he finally came out with what was on his mind:
"You think I've been drinkin' and not realised what's going on? What's all this business, creep, about me being hired as a guard, just so's you can take over my dumpsters?"
He didn't even ask what kind of wage a security guard might earn, or what kind of accommodations might be included, or what kind of work, specifically; he might have to do for the extra pay. His thought was completely concentrated on his dumpsters, working out the best way to take care of them and protect them from competitors. So it turns out that this Man predetermined the course of his thought deciding the questions of his existence on the basis of garbage dumpsters - and then followed the direction of his thought.
One could cite quite a number of other examples confirming the indisputability of the fact that the creation of all material objects, life situations and social phenomena is preceded by the energy of thought.
One Man can influence another through his own thoughts. This is attested in ancient tales and parables. Here is what Anastasia's grandfather had to say about the energy of human thought.
Chapter 5: A Goddess of a Wife
"Yes, Vladimir, Man's thought has access to energy unsurpassed. Many of the creations of this energy are either dismissed as magic or counted as miracles and ascribed to a higher power.
"Take, for example, the 'miracle icons.' Why would they suddenly become miraculous? Why would a piece of wooden board with a hand-painted image on it all of a sudden have the power to work miracles? It happens when iconographers imbue their work with a sufficient amount of their own mental energy. Those who look at the icon then add their own energy. People talk about a 'prayed-over icon' - in other words, an icon imbued with a goodly amount of the energy of human thoughts
"It used to be that iconographers knew about the properties of this great energy. Before approaching a particular work, they fasted to cleanse their body of impurities, at the same time intensifying their thought. Then they entered into a state of detachment, focusing their energy on a single task - the painting of the icon. When it was completely finished, they spent another long period contemplating what they had done. And miracles were sometimes the result."People sometimes see unusual phenomena, or various kinds of angels. But note that people invariably see only what they are thinking about. They invariably see only the images they believe in.
"Christians, for example, can see only their own saints. Moslems see only theirs. That is because they are beholding the projections of their own or the general collective thought.
"Back only fifteen hundred years ago there were people who understood the power and properties of the energy of human thought. There are parables about this. Would you like to hear one?"
"Yes, I would."
"I shall translate it from its ancient tongue into contemporary language, and change the setting to modern terms to make it more understandable. But tell me first, how does a man who has been married to a woman for a long time behave. What does he do when he comes home?"
"Well, a lot of husbands, as long as they don't habitually reach for the bottle, will sit down in front of the television set and either read a paper or watch TV They might take out the garbage, if their wife asks them to."
''And what about the women?"
"There's no question about that - they get supper ready in the kitchen, and afterward wash the dishes."
"Fine. That will help me translate the ancient parable into modern terms."
Once upon a time there lived an ordinary husband and wife. The wife's name was Elena, her husband was Ivan. Every day the husband "would come home from work, sit down in his favourite chair by the television set and begin reading the newspaper. His wife Elena would get supper ready. As she gave Ivan his supper she would nag him that he never did anything useful around the place, and was not earning enough money. Ivan got irritated by his wife's nagging.
But instead of giving her some kind of gruff response, he simply thought to himself: She herself 's a dirty slut, and she's telling me what to do. But when we got married, sbe was so totally different ~ she was beautiful, she was tender.
One day when this nagging wife demanded Ivan take out the garbage, he reluctantly tore himself away from the TV and headed outdoors with the dustbin. Upon returning, he stopped in the doorway and turned to God in his thought:
"O, Lord! O, Lord! Just look at how lousy my life's turned out! Do I really have to while away all my remaining years
with such a nagging and ugly wife? This isn't life, it's sheer torture!"
And then all of a sudden Ivan heard the quiet voice of God:
"My son, I could help alleviate your troubles, I could give you a splendid goddess of a wife, only if your neighbours noticed a sudden change in your life, they might become greatly astonished. Let us work this way: I shall change your wife just a little at a time. I shall imbue her with the spirit of a goddess and improve her outward appearance. Only you must remember that if you want to live with a goddess, you have to make your own life worthy of a goddess."
"Thank you, O Lord! Any man would be happy to change his life for the sake of a goddess. But tell me: when will You start making changes in my wife?"
"I
shall begin a few little changes right away. And minute by minute I shall be changing her for the better."
Ivan went back into his home, sat down in his chair, picked up the paper and turned the television back on. Only he did not feel like reading, or watching any TV films. He could not wait to peek and see whether his wife had started changing - even just a little.
He got up and opened the kitchen door. Leaning against the door-post, he began watching his wife intently. She was standing with her back to him, washing the supper dishes. All at once Elena felt herself being watched and turned toward the doorway. Their eyes met. Ivan looked at his wife and thought: No, I don't see any changes going on in my wife. Seeing the unusual attention her husband was paying her and not being able to figure it out, Elena all at once straightened her hair, and a rosy blush came over her cheeks as she asked:
"What is it, Ivan? Why are you looking at me so intently?"
The husband could not think of what to say. Embarrassed, he blurted out:
"Well, maybe ... the dishes ... maybe I could help you wash them? I was just thinking about it, for some reason."
"The dishes? You help me?" the wife echoed in surprise, taking off her much-soiled apron. "Well, you see, I've already done them."
Wow! She's changing right before my eyes! Ivan thought. Look how much prettier she's become all of a sudden!
And then he started drying the dishes.
The next day after work Ivan couldn't wait to get home. He couldn't wait to see how his nagging wife was little by little being transformed into a goddess. Hasn't she got a lot of goddess in her already? But I haven't changed even a little bit myself, as usual In any case, I should buy her some flowers, so I won't fall flat on my face before a goddess!
Upon opening the door to his home, Ivan stood entranced in amazement. There before him stood Elena in her party dress, the same one he had bought her last year. She was sporting a neat hairdo, complete with a bright ribbon. was dumbfounded. With some awkwardness he offered the flowers to Elena, not being able to take his eyes off her. She accepted the flowers and gave a little gasp. She lowered her eyelids and a rosy blush filled her cheeks. Oh, what marvellous eyelids goddesses have! What meekness they express! What extraordinary inner beauty, and outward looks!
And Ivan gasped in turn, upon seeing the table set with their fancy china and two candles burning on the table, along with two wine-glasses and the food with its divinely tempting aromas. He sat down to the table, and Elena his wife sat down opposite him. But then suddenly she jumped up and said:
"I'm so sorry, I forgot to turn the TV on for you. But here, I've got today's paper for you."
"Never mind the TV; and I don't really feel like reading the paper either - they all keep saying the same thing," Ivan responded with sincerity. "I'd rather you tell me what you'd like to do tomorrow, Saturday."
Completely overwhelmed, Elena asked in amazement:
"What would you like to do?"
"Well, I happened to pick us up a couple of theatre tickets today. Anyway; tomorrow afternoon, I thought you might like to do a bit of shopping. Since we're going to the theatre, I thought we'd drop into a store first and buy you a dress suitable for the occasion."
Ivan just caught himself in time from blurting out his cherished secret: a dress suitable for a goddess. Embarrassed, he looked at her again and gave another gasp. A goddess was indeed sitting at the table before him. Her face was beaming with joy; and her eyes were sparkling. Her restrained smile was just slightly inquisitive.
O Lord, how marvellous goddesses are after all! But if she keeps on getting better day by day, can I become worthy of this goddess? Ivan mused. All of a sudden, a thought struck him like lightning: I've got to do it! I've got to do it while this goddess is here with me. I've got to ask her, plead with her to bear my child. A child
which will come from me and from this most marvellous goddess!
''A penny for your thoughts, Ivan! Could that be excitement I see in your face?" Elena asked her husband.
He sat there excitedly, not sure how to talk about so precious a thing. This was no piece of cake asking a goddess to bear a child! This was not a gift God had promised him. He did not know how to tell her about his wish. Fumbling with a corner of the tablecloth, Ivan got up from the table and pleaded, blushing:
"I don't know... Do you think... But I... wanted to say ...for a long time now ...I want to have a child with you my beautiful goddess!"
Whereupon she, Elena, came over to Ivan, her husband. From her love-filled eyes a tear of joy rolled down her rosy cheek. She placed her hand on Ivan's shoulder, and her breath flared in a warm flush.
What a night that was! What a morning! And oh, what a day it is! How marvellous it is to live with a goddess! thought Ivan, as he bundled up his second grandson for an outdoor stroll.
"What did you understand from this parable, Vladimir?"
"I understood all of it. God didn't actually help Ivan. All he did was listen to God's voice. Ivan made his own wife a goddess through his thought."
"Of course, you are right: Ivan created his own happiness with his thought. He made his wife a goddess and changed himself. But God did help Ivan."
"When?"
"Back when God gave everything to each of us, when He was contemplating the creation of Man. And explaining everything to the first Man he created. Do you remember God's words from the book Co-creation (4)? He said: '''My son, you are infinite, you are eternal, within you are your dreams of creation."
"These words, Vladimir, are still true today. Every Man has within himself creative dreams. The question is only: in which direction are they aimed? And how powerful is the thought, including its energy, in His sons and daughters living on the Earth today?"
1. Man ~ Throughout the Ringing Cedars Series, the word Man with a capital M is used to refer to a human being of either gender. For details on the word's
usage and the important distinction between Man and human being please see the Translator's Preface to Book 1.
2. seminary for young ladies - from tsarist times in Russia, when there were elite boarding schools reserved fr girls of noble descent. The syllabus would have included a wide array of subjects (languoages, dancing, painting, etiquette, religion etc.) designed to prepare the girls for their future roles in high society
3. 'white' vodka - clear, unmixed 'classic' Russian vodka as distinct from 'coloured'
varieties of vodka (e.g., fruit liquors infused with cranberry, strawberry,
etc.) available on the market.
4. Quoted from Book 4, Chapter 8: "Birth".
Reader Comments
On 8/15/2014 Bill wrote:
Ken....I wanted to thank you for posting The Power of Thought from the Anastasia books. I have read all the books in the series several times - and just keep at it even today. #6 is my favorite. I am writing because it seems like the destruction of our way of life is accelerating at such an incredible rate and surely to most of your readers it appears as if there is no hope. It is hard, but I have to disagree. For the past few years - since I began reading the Anastasia books - I have not only come to believe that things are indeed getting better - but are doing so according to Anastasia's dream. Here are some examples: Putin's behavior with Ukraine, and with everything else. In Russia today, 90% of the country's produce - is grown by 10% of the population on private farms. (Does anyone else in the world realize the significance of this?). Also....how many times have you heard that Cayce predicted Russia would become the hope of the world? Then, every single day, as I breeze through the news - I always see something related that confirms my hope that the world is indeed improving. I could go on and on with this....just think....I thought the 911 Truth movement would fade away years ago...instead...it has gotten stronger and it will not die! I can see it in the people I meet during the course of the day. It's everywhere...it really is! I admit, I struggle when I give too much focus to all the negative energy that abounds.....but I always come back. Absolutely, positively an incredible time to be alive to witness all that is happening now and what is soon to come. Anyone who needs help with their perspective on life - I suggest the Anastasia books - Castaneda, Yogananda, Tom Brown Jr, etc, etc...I've read them ALL and nothing comes close. I even feel good writing this! And....thanks to you, Ken, for all you do!
Bill R
***
Hi Bill,
Thanks for writing. I couldn't agree more.
It began to dawn on me in 2002 that the Doom & Gloom scenarios that we were all being bombarded with on the internet and over Coast to Coast radio etc. were INTENTIONAL psyops designed to keep us in a state of anxiety-ridden fear, constantly darkening our thoughts with concerns about the foreboding future that we are led to believe is just over the horizon. You only awaken to these things slowly. It doesn't happen overnight. And of course, you don't know you are being brain washed at the time you are being brainwashed. No one does. It's only later, when you look back, that it's obvious we are being played.
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