Chapter 22. Pigeon Post from the Past

That same autumn, a few weeks after the completion of the "Doron", I began corresponding with a girl named Zhanna. She had placed an advertisement in the newspaper, from which it was clear that she was interested in spiritual and worldview questions. I replied. She lived in Homieĺ, but we were in no hurry to meet and communicated by mail for a while to make sure that we really had common topics. The new acquaintance turned out to be intelligent and discreet to the point of secrecy. She did not tell much about herself. But we talked about the Teaching in detail. Sometimes she objected, argued, and it was obvious that she was interested in getting to the bottom of everything.

The correspondence went on for quite a long time. Finally she said that she was considering the Teaching as her possible spiritual path. To make a final decision, a more detailed and thorough acquaintance with it was required. It was time to move on to personal meetings.

So I had a new visitor. And it did not go unnoticed by those around me. When some of them saw that a girl was coming to see me, they breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Well, thank God! They're not gay!" It's scary to think what twisted paths these people's imaginations were following...

Zhanna had black hair, black eyes, and dressed mostly in black. She was very serious and strict, not talkative, and in fact secretive. This trait of her character was particularly striking. In the Teaching, as in many spiritual teachings in general, the disciple is usually frank with the Teacher and hides practically nothing from him. This is in the order of things. The Teacher must know his disciple well in order to approach him individually, to be able to help him in his cognition, to give the right advice if necessary, etc. The disciple, in turn, trusts the Teacher, because how can one learn Truth and goodness from someone whom one does not trust and from whom one expects a trick? Zhanna's openness proved to be difficult. There were reasons for that. She thawed very slowly. I didn't rush her. Only after two years of dialogue, having become a disciple long ago, she began to open up and tell me something about herself, about her life, about her family. Then I learnt that even the name she called herself was not her real name. But for me and everyone who knows her, she was and remains Zhanna.

Or Black Lotus. I once compared her to this flower — and she liked the comparison so much that she made it her name in the Teaching.

But that would come later. And then, at that first meeting, things might have turned out differently, if we hadn't lived on the ground floor. Just that day and just at the time when she came, a girl was found in our lift, beaten and raped, covered in blood. Who knows what would have happened if my guest had called the lift and discovered her herself...

That didn't happen. We had a good conversation and decided to continue our communication, turning it into a regular one — once a week, for two hours. Since then, this format has become my usual way of communicating with other disciples — with the exception, of course, of Hantur — even via Skype.

After the first conversation, I was left with a strange feeling I couldn't quite understand. Either anxiety, or expectation of something unknown, or a vague desire to somewhere unknown... It grew stronger from meeting to meeting. And one day I realised that Zhanna worried me because I felt something for her.

The discovery literally stunned me. After all, I knew what kind of woman I loved, and I knew for sure that I wasn't interested in others. So there could only be one explanation for what was happening. An explanation that I didn't dare to spell out clearly, even mentally, and that I didn't dare to believe. In the end I turned to Emere for confirmation or denial — although I really knew what he would say. And I heard the answer I had been waiting for and dreading.

Why did I wait? Because I had longed for her, sought her in the world of energy, fought my way to her against the forces of Nature, driven by a longing that in those moments superseded everything for me. And now here she is, right next to me, at arm's length. As Emere told me, she wanted to be born at the same time and in the same place as me — and this was allowed to her, so that we could meet and be together again. It was a happiness for me that cannot be described. Why was I afraid? Because it was a disaster. I still held true to my decision not to try to start a family and to respond with rejection if I found a woman who offered it to me. It wasn't some girl who came, it was her. She hasn't remembered anything yet, but what if she does?.. And if I didn't want to ruin any woman's life, could I ruin hers? It was absolutely impossible, simply unimaginable. Was she born to be unhappy? I couldn't allow that. For centuries, I have been looking for a meeting with her, but now I have to give up the chance to be together if such a chance arises.

I made the decision not to tell her anything. All I could do was hope that she wouldn't feel or remember anything. That hope was worse than the most painful execution.

I saw and felt everything very clearly. It was as if the fog that had hung between us had disappeared. Now I felt her with all my being, just as I had in my previous life. I don't know how I managed to hide my feelings during our conversations. I think she might have noticed that I had trouble speaking at times, but she didn't mind. Sometimes I would almost pass out. Even when she just walked into the room, the world around me would start to float, and I wondered if it was noticeable. And she once asked me if I was feeling well — I was very pale.

She always came on the same day and at the same hour. But she still called beforehand to let me know she was coming and to make sure I hadn't changed my plans. And soon I noticed one amazing thing. Every time, about 10-15 minutes before her call, a few pigeons flew to my window. They would walk along the window sill from the outside for a while, then fly away — and almost immediately the phone would ring. This went on for several years. It was amazing. It was like some kind of pigeon post, connecting the past with the present... I won't even tell you how many questions were crammed into my head when I looked at the pigeons that arrived once again — not as if on a schedule, but according to a real schedule. I can only say that I understand no more today than I did then.

Anyway, I expounded the Teaching to her, answered her questions, clarified points that were not quite clear. She read the "Evor" and the messages available at that time. She read the "Doron" in manuscript, as it had not yet been fully digitised. She offered her help and it was she and I who completed the digitisation.

When she sat at the computer and typed texts under my dictation, I admired her. I tried to do it carefully, averting my eyes whenever she turned her head. I don't know if she noticed anything. If she did, she didn't show it. I can't say she was beautiful. She looked ordinary enough. But to me, she was the most beautiful in the world. It sounds cliché, I know. However, it is so. It was only then that I began to understand how one could consider a particular woman the most beautiful, and why such subjectivity is equal to objectivity, and why people could go into battle defending this personal truth. And I also understood why poets write poems about love. I understood now not only with my mind, but also with my heart.

It turned out that she writes poems too. I asked if they were available in electronic form and got a negative answer. She didn't think it was necessary to digitise them. So I asked permission to do it myself so that I could keep an electronic copy. I retyped them from the shared notebook, facing many difficulties, as by then I could turn pages only with great effort and ingenuity, and typing with the somewhat inconvenient mouse of the time was quite challenging. However, I coped, completing several poems a day.

Apart from the Teaching and poems, we had a lot in common, from the same favourite musical theme to an interest in medieval Japan. But unlike Zhanna, I knew the background of the latter. After all, it was in Japan that her previous life had taken place. There I spent days and nights near her house as an invisible ghost. I grew to love that country and that era because they were a part of her. We talked a lot about Japan, discussing its culture and so on. Using my newfound abilities, I learnt and told her some facts about her life at that time, without mentioning my involvement, of course. She took it gladly, and kept asking to know more.

And then she began to remember herself. The little I could tell her broke some block in her memory, and the past began to return. I'd been through it myself when Emere told me about my past life, but this was the first time I'd seen it in another person. It went faster. Sometimes I would tell her something about her past, sometimes she would tell me and I would verify the information. And sometimes she would come in and tell me something I had learnt between our meetings and was going to tell her. Or I'd start to tell her and she'd say she remembered it herself — and continue on for me. It was amazing. Together we recreated, not that it was very detailed, but a pretty coherent picture of her past life.

It was a separate pleasure to know on the one hand that the other person could really do something rather than mistaking their fantasies for reality, and on the other hand to know that they knew you weren't fooling them as you confirmed each other's words.

Everything went well, and after some time she decided to join the Teaching — as she no longer had any doubts about its truth.

In fact, she was the first person to be officially accepted into the Teaching through the now customary procedure of joining, which includes a series of questions and answers. My admission was automatic, so to speak, on the day of the founding of the Teaching. For Hantur, too, but later, on the day when he turned 21. As I understood — due to the fact that he came to his present life following the Teaching and decided to join it beforehand, while still in the world of energy. So Zhanna was the first to follow the path that everyone is going through now. As I have already said, she took the name Black Lotus.

Thus, for the first time there were three of us already as official followers of the Teaching. And then four. Because Saveli came back.

He came and asked me to teach him again. He said that he was tired of spiritual wandering and wanted to find a permanent home. When I asked him why he left Vissarion's followers, he answered: because the latter allows lying if it is for good (indeed, there is such a thing in the Last Testament). And so, anything that Vissarion himself says can also be a lie. So it turns out that nothing can be trusted. That's why he couldn't stay there. He joined one of the reiki groups, then he left there too. Went somewhere else where he didn't get along either. In short, it was good old Saveli, whom Hantur and I knew so well and treated like a misbehaving younger relative, with great warmth and a certain irony that we tried not to show him.

Years had passed since our last meeting, and much had changed. Now Saveli could learn much more, because there was more information. In addition, I had provided him with printouts of two books and several messages. So when he came back he found not a few scattered texts, but full-fledged writings. Under the influx of emotions he cried holding them in his hands. And under the impression of the story of my stay in the Abyss he began to claim that he had once seen the Abyss in my eyes.

He also visited me regularly, once a week. By that time I already had a more or less elaborated programme of expounding the Teaching. The topics were arranged in a certain sequence, which immediately gave a coherent picture of the worldview, which could then be detailed. Besides this, of course, we talked about many other things, from personal problems to international politics.

I remember that in one of our conversations, when talking about love between a man and a woman, Saveli remarked, "Well, you wouldn't understand. After all, you have never loved." I replied, "Who told you?" He hesitated, looked at me in surprise and asked, "So you have loved?" I replied with the same words, "Who told you?" He became completely confused, and prudently did not pursue the subject further.

In my opinion, a very revealing case. So to speak, a touch to my portrait, as it is seen from the outside.

When Saveli asked to be accepted into the Teaching, Emere told me that it would be his last effective attempt. If he failed to stay on the path a third time and left again, he would not be able to make great spiritual achievements in the future, at least not in this life, even if he came back again. I don't know exactly what it was about. Apparently, something specific, some rare case connected with some inner resource. Something like that. Anyway, I felt it necessary to inform Saveli, which I did. He was very upset, but said that he himself felt that if this time he failed again, he would have neither the desire nor the strength to continue his spiritual search. A few days later he went through the procedure of joining. By the way, it could not be said that the first two times he left the Teaching. He did not join the Teaching at that time. He simply left from the disciples.

Now, about ten years after the beginning of the revelation, I had three disciples at the same time. Not a great achievement, of course. However, considering all the circumstances, it was seen as a milestone. A breakthrough, albeit a small one, but an important one.

Saveli suggested that the four of us meet to talk. He was particularly warmed by the thought that now there was a girl among the followers, and he was very eager to meet her. But it was she who refused to participate in the general meeting. When I told her about the initiative, she just shrugged her shoulders and said: "Why? I don't need it." Saveli was disappointed.

He acted in his usual role of an inveterate womaniser. Although at that time he was married. More precisely, lived with one woman, without being engaged with her.

There were complications of their own. Seeing that he began to periodically visit some obscure Teacher, she became worried. The concern assumed critical proportions after one incident. The message on how to handle the pandect books said, among other things, that they should not be used as stands or supports for anything, and in a stack of other books they should be placed on top. And then one day Saveli saw that his wife had placed a portrait of Esenin — a kind of light embossing — on a printout of the pandect. Coming to a rage, the hot-tempered Saveli broke the portrait. They quarrelled, and Saveli thought of nothing better than to tell her that if he had to choose between her and the Teaching, he would leave her. Then she couldn't stand it and demanded to be shown what kind of dangerous sect her husband was involved in and what kind of teacher he was going to.

He asked permission to bring her to me so that we could get acquainted and talk. I agreed. Of course, it could have been a scandal. But I decided to try and smooth things over. He introduced us to each other and then left. We started talking, and we got along fine. She also lost the pain in her injured leg that had lasted several years and her limp disappeared. But it only lasted a few days, and then the pain came back. She came back again and the pain was gone again. I did not do anything, I did not treat her — we just talked.

It is possible that the favourable effect could have been fixed somehow, something could have been done in this direction, — but then Saveli's inattentiveness made itself felt. In the sense that he was once again caught up in the wind of change. He again doubted everything, again wondered whether he had come to the right place. As a result, he became interested in Christian apocrypha and left the Teaching to seek the Truth somewhere else, in the direction of non-traditional Christianity. Our fellowship with him ceased, and so did our fellowship with his wife. As on the previous occasion, it lasted about a year.

Saveli thus became the first person to leave the Teaching as not just a disciple, but a follower who had joined it. Long before that, I remind you, he had been my first disciple after Hantur. So he had twice, for good or ill, entered the history of the Teaching as a pioneer.

He already knew that I could now read some information about people. So when he left he took my word that I would not find out anything about him by my own means. I wouldn't have done it without his permission, but if it made him feel better to have my promise, he got it. And I understood him perfectly well. I think it's not a pleasant thing for someone to find out something about you that you didn't intend to reveal — and you're in no position to prevent it. However he knew that I did not break my promises, and my word was enough for him not to worry any further.

...In the meantime, I had turned 33. A special age, just like turning 21. It was a special age for me, in particular the continuation of the story of the five protective medallions I mentioned. Emere told me to touch them, and when I did, I discovered the ability to "charge" various objects myself, turning them into a powerful means of energy defence. The medallions, however, were "discharged" at that moment and lost their protective properties, turning into ordinary pieces of tin.

Since then I have charged many rings, pins, various stones and other small things for different people. I don't remember if I did it for Saveli, but I did it for Zhanna.

I was able to identify healing abilities in her — very good ones, far greater than my own. I informed her about it and proposed to develop together a method of healing according to the Teaching. I would deal more with the theoretical side of things, using the information available to us, and she would put it into practice, at the same time developing her abilities. Her answer sounded like a thunderclap. Zhanna said there was no point, as she would be dead soon anyway. In a few months.

My first thought was that it was some kind of illness. But she told me that she had known the date of her future death since she was a child, with an accuracy of three days. And it would be soon. She's prepared, she's done all her chores. She doesn't want to start anything new. Now she's just waiting. I thought it was just a fantasy — people have all sorts of things, and I know something like that, too — and suggested that I check if it was really possible. She said yes. What was my surprise when I found death in her near future. I found out the date (the same three days), told her, and everything coincided. It didn't even upset Zhanna. It just brought a sad smile to her face. She was so ready to die on those fateful days, so accustomed to this thought during her whole life, so resigned to the inevitable, that she found a deep inner peace. Not the slightest sign of fear was visible in her. Only the equanimity of a doomed person.

But I wasn't ready to accept it. She was here, beside me, I had found her, and now I must watch her die in silence? It's impossible! I had to do something.

I've decided to make a swap, to exchange her life for mine. There are techniques, close to magic, that allow you to do that.

What did I feel then? Sadness and happiness. Sadness — because there was still a lot of work to be done, and it was immensely hard to leave everything behind. Happiness — because I could save her. To save the woman you love — what could inspire a man in love more? I hadn't been afraid of death for a long time. I'd give my life for less. For a touch. And that's not an artistic exaggeration. If someone asked me if I would die in payment for her touching my hand with hers, I would not hesitate for a second. I had been waiting for that touch for twenty-five centuries. What was stopping me from just asking her to touch me, or from doing something to make it happen, like asking her to fix my hand, or pass me something? Two things got in the way. Firstly, I didn't know what would be the effect of two energies that had travelled such a long way from the past, to each other, and that bore the imprint of such strong feelings. I didn't know what would happen to me. Would I be able to hide what I was going through, not let it show? And how would it affect her? What if she felt something, what if she remembered something I wanted to protect her from? Secondly, it was also doom for me. This woman must remain close to me, but at the same time distant and untouchable. Like... It's hard to find the words... Like something sacred, something not to be touched. I can't think of a better comparison. Maybe it sounds strange when I say it. Maybe it does. But it's what I felt when I was around her. So I was willing to give my life for a touch, but I couldn't let it happen.

Naturally, I didn't inform Zhanna of my intention. I made my preparations, completed what I could, and then informed Hantur that I was about to die and that he would have to take care of the Teaching. He was shocked and confused. Especially since I had explained to him very sparingly what was going on. He did not know who Zhanna was to me.

As a matter of fact, nobody knew it, neither then nor later. Now I am telling about it for the first time.

When I tried to start the life-swapping procedure, I was met with failure. It turned out that it was impossible. That is, lives can be exchanged — but in this particular case, the life of a woman was required. This turned out to be crucial. If I knew how to despair, at that moment I would have been desperate. Everything was falling apart. What to do now? How to save her? There had to be another solution. There was nothing left but to tell Zhanna about the failed attempt and ask permission to look at the situation my way, to understand the reasons for what was happening and to find a way out. She listened to me and told me that I shouldn't have done that. As for getting information, she herself would be interested to know the reasons why she should die. Therefore, she allows me to look. But she doesn't want me to do anything without her knowledge.

It was possible to understand the situation. It was so unexpected that if someone had told me about it, I would hardly have believed it. It turned out that everything was twisted around some woman, who had to be conditionally labelled as a witch or sorceress. Who she was and where she was, remained unknown. But it was clear that she was very knowledgeable in magic. Knowledgeable enough to have made some sort of pact with... Not with the devil, of course, but with some harmful forces in the world of energy. The essence was that they would help her to achieve wealth, influence, fame or other goals — which ones, too, remained unclear, and was not important for us — and she would be at their disposal for a long time after her death to serve as a source of energy for them. Actually, such practices were the basis for the stories about selling the soul to the devil. I knew it was possible, but I never thought I'd encounter it in reality. So, the witch made a pact, and had to die after a certain period of time to fulfil her obligations. Clearly, she didn't want to die — so she decided to make a kind of switch, substituting someone else in her place. It had to be a woman too, and one with very strong energy. The witch began to try to find such energetics through the world of energy — and came across Zhanna, whose energetics was not only strong, but also rare, like that of anyone who came into the target birth. The switch was a success. Years passed, it was time to pay the contract, — and now another person had to die, while that woman could continue to live and enjoy all the acquired benefits.

I told Zhanna everything, omitting only the part about the target birth. It was already clear to me that the switch could be reversed, that is, everything could be returned to the way it was. So I offered to do it. She, to my astonishment, refused. She said that she had already got used to the idea of death, she was ready to die, she had no plans for the future, so let everything go as it was. Thank you, but I don't need to do anything.

When the conversation was over and she left, I wondered. It seemed a little too strange. It's like she's under hypnosis. It's like she doesn't even recognise the possibility of rescue. So there must be something else out there.

I probed the space around her and found an energy being I hadn't noticed before because I wasn't looking for it. The witch was more cunning than I'd thought. She had backed herself up. She created and attached to her victim a parasite, which all her life indoctrinated her that she should not resist, that she should accept the inevitability of death, because it was necessary. This treatment had been going on since childhood, and was a complete success. Otherwise, the victim, feeling death approaching, could turn to someone for help, and then everything would be very likely to go waste.

Having learnt this, I decided not to say anything to Zhanna, but simply to destroy the parasite. After all, it continued to influence her, and she would certainly forbid me to interfere. That is, the parasite himself, in fact, will answer me through her lips. Well, no! And I began to prepare for the fight. Actually, it was only necessary to strike it with an energy blow to disperse it. I had every confidence that I would succeed. Concentrate enough energy, find him again and hit him. When I, having waited until the night before, started, the sensation was very strong. I think that's roughly how a hunter feels when he's tracked down a difficult prey, cornered it, and knows it's not going anywhere. Excitement, a kind of sporting anger, anticipation of the coming victory, and even some gloating — here you are, come here! The adrenaline was surging. When I hit it and checked that the parasite was gone, I hit it again, — a control shot, and at the same time to release all the accumulated charge. Next — rest from the strongest nervous tension and a state close to euphoria. The hunt was a success.

The next day Zhanna came and asked me to help her. She suddenly realised that she wanted to live. I told her about the parasite — but later. And then I just did what was necessary to restore the status quo to what it was before the switch. It worked.

Soon those three days came. I knew everything was going to be okay — but it was still unsettling. It wasn't until pigeons flew into my window on the day of her next visit that I was finally relieved.

I said it was all right. But then I often thought that it wasn't all right for everyone. The switch was reversed, that is, everything went back to the way it was. And one person died in those days. It's clear that the witch herself went along with it, and now she got what she agreed to. However, I couldn't be happy about it. Besides, I was left with the feeling that I was in some way responsible for her death. In fact, of course, I was not: I had simply given her back what she had done. Still, my part in her having to die was undeniable. I had to console myself with the idea that someone would have died anyway, and that it was someone who had asked for it, not an innocent person. That was true, but... A heavy residue remained, no matter what.