• Excerpt 1
  • Excerpt 2
  • Excerpt 3
  • Excerpt 4
  • Excerpt 5
  • Excerpt 6
  • Excerpt 7

   I am falling. Huge tree roots are opening the way for me into an abyss of quicksand. I am sinking deeper and deeper. I am trying to hang on to dark and sticky stones, but I can’t feel my own hands. Some invisible mass is pulling and pushing me in, swallowing every single cell of my body. I can still see the last bits of brown and heavy peat, but even they are inevitably integrating with my own skin. I am furtively looking for anything that would keep my body from dispersing in emptiness, but I am surrounded by dark endless space with no edges. Homogenous. Completely dull. I am falling shapeless into this dullness and trying with all my might to preserve any bits of my identity. I keep falling, falling apart, breaking into millions of pieces. A moment later there is nothing left of me – nothing I could call me, just the dull sensation of having been someone before. With a final surge of strength, I tear into something, though it is no longer my carnality but rather my consciousness. I am holding on like grim death to my idea of “me”, but it is constantly being thrown inside; the more I want to pull out some small piece of my existence, the more it is being strangled.

   Suddenly, I can hear a sound, barely audible at the beginning, but slowly transforming into a repeated sequence – familiar to me. It is pulling me out and throwing me back into reality.

   It was a dream. What a dream!  I am slowly gathering my thoughts.

   I switch the light on. It is quite early, 6:30am, yet still dark outside. The alarm clock is invariably repeating its tune. I mute it with slow moves.

   I have decided to stay in bed a bit longer. It was so real. In my mind, I am reliving last night’s dream visions. I can feel cold sweat drops all over my body, as if I’ve just fought some battle.

   I exist. It is so incredible to be myself again. Me…

   I free myself from my quilt and rush under the shower. It is wonderful to feel warm water flowing down my body.

   After a short while I am sipping white coffee. One of my morning rituals. It is really strong. Even a lot of milk doesn’t mellow its gentle bitterness. I am looking out the window. It’s grey and cold outside. The first leaves have started to fall off the trees. It is a sad view, it looks as if they were losing parts of themselves with the wind.

   Just like me… I think.

   In my mind, I go back to the time when I was deciding what to major in at university. Someone had told me economics is a good choice because you are closer to money. Someone else added that money brings happiness and fame. Of course my choice was to be happy and so…

   But I’m not.

   It doesn’t work. Society repeats a program without providing proof of its effectiveness and people who believe in it are, in most cases, heading in the opposite direction to happiness. I did graduate. With honours. Economics, of course. I am 27 years old, I have a fairly large company and the illusion of having money (as most things I own are on credit), but I am not even a single millimeter closer to happiness. In fact, I feel I am much farther away from it. So far, in fact, that I am losing hope that the word “happiness” carries with it any palpable sensation.

   I am alone, I thought emotionlessly, as if I was an observer and not a participant in my own life.

   I was sitting on something that might have been a terrace, but it was just the flat roof of my new home. I was looking at the nearby mountains. The city was shining around me. The sea of houses biting into the mountain, unrelentingly climbing to the top, greedily snatching bits of land from Mother Nature. A few people lived in each of these houses, so I was surrounded by an ocean of people and yet I was alone. Condemned by my own choice to voluntary banishment. And despite appearances, it wasn’t so bad.

   Gabriel, wonderful Gabriel, what would I do without him? I thought of him warmly. He had left at sunrise after helping me to sign up for a beginner level Spanish course, due to start the following day.

   Hmm, another coincidence. A kind of synchronicity given to me by fortune, I smiled to myself in my thoughts.

   The house in which I had moved into was indeed in a guarded area, surrounded by wonderful greenery and security patrols armed with rifles. But these rifles, rather than calm me down, only triggered my imagination. So I am safe here, but how about on the outside?

   I haven’t  been on the outside alone, yet. Gabriel left the city only a few hours ago. For the few days of his presence in the city I had a full-time friend, bodyguard, interpreter of not only the language but the Latino mentality. Besides, during that time we were staying in an area where foreigners were not an unusual sight as high-rise, luxury hotels surrounding the park were full of lazy tourists who were sometimes so inattentive that they were losing all their belongings in clashes with Mexican reality. Every day at breakfast – a generous buffet of culinary delights,  Gabriel pointed out other tourists, teaching me what could be the cause of a quick mugging.

   “Look at this guy, with his shiny new camera. He’s with a huge family, which makes him an easy target for a pickpocket.”

   “And that lady over there, she’s flaunting her luxury clothes. Remember most of the locals live in poverty. Her many layers of golden jewellery are so loud they’re not going to attract a new lover but rather a new owner.”

   A cool wind brought me back to reality. Shivers went down my body. I looked at the sea of lights. Somewhere near me a nightingale was whistling its cheerful tune, celebrating life. I stood up from my seat made of an old crate and I walked to the edge of the roof. I stood there for a while looking at the completely unsecured space below.

   Being on the edge is over, I thought, going through the events of the last months. I smiled, breathing deeply. I had left my past behind. We were separated by the ocean and a seven-hour time difference.

   I looked around. It was strange that this surface at the top of the house was completely unused.

   It is so beautiful here and yet there are only some crates lying around and a big barrel full of water. Some wires and nothing else. It could be such a nice place, all it needs are some flowers and some cleaning up. How strange that they won’t do this, I thought.

   It was getting dark. I looked at my watch – 6:30. I should see the familiar place soon. Here and there I recognized details that seemed familiar from trips with Miguel but something was wrong. I wanted to believe that it was my imagination exaggerating the lack of all other details.

   I slowly started to get nervous. I was now in the bus for over 50 minutes and I still didn’t see the crossroads.

   I’ll  give it another moment, I thought. I felt my dress, soaked with cold sweat, sticking to my back. I had no idea whether I had missed my neighbourhood or whether it was still ahead. I had no other choice but to keep going. My hopes were fading with every minute. I couldn’t recognize the route. More and more people were getting off the bus but no one was getting. Finally, it was just me, two middle-aged men and one girl on the bus. The men were staring at me curiously. I pretended I knew where I was going. I wanted to cry. I was looking out the window as if observing the outside world could cause a miracle. We were leaving the city, there were less and less buildings with every minute.

   I was analysing all the Spanish words I knew that would help me find my way home. Nothing. Zero. Either I didn’t know enough or everything had evaporated from my head under pressure.

   The young girl stood up and headed towards the door.

   Oh no, I am not going to stay here alone with these men, I thought, like a wounded animal looking for an escape.

   I stood up, too and jumped out after the girl at the bus stop.

   What can I do now, what should I do? I wanted to cry. The sky was becoming more and more grey. The girl smiled at me and walked off slowly down a small, beaten path.

   I was light years from my house and from the city. Either that or it was a very uninhabited part of it. Suddenly a new idea crossed my mind. I got here by bus and I will get out of here by bus.

   I crossed the street and stopped at something we might call a bus stop. A bus stop with no timetable. I was surprised at my own composure, even though passing cars were sounding their horns at me. I was standing straight, confident, as if I was in the perfect place at the perfect time. I felt as vulnerable as an egg. A hard shell sheltering a vulnerable core. But the shell was giving a false impression of strength, because in reality even a light tap would reveal the entire vulnerability and delicacy of the core. The shell started to crack and show its defenceless insides. I felt like a frightened, little girl. I was scared like I had never been before. I spotted some people approaching from the distance. I didn’t know whether to be happy or to cry. The worst thing was that I wasn’t really aware of threats and so I imagined the worst possible scenarios. I was alone and could count only on myself and on what some people call God. It was time to ask higher powers for help.

   Please let it come, please let it come, I repeated this like a mantra, asking the Almighty for help. With all my heart I wanted to see the bus with the name of the familiar district approaching .

   One minute, two, three… one bus arrived but with a different name.

   I’m not going to risk it, I thought.

   The  evening slowly embraced me with the dark colours of the night.

   Why does it get dark so quickly here? I asked myself, swallowing my tears. I was still wearing the mask of a courageous woman, as if it didn’t bother me at all that I was in a completely hostile place at the wrong time. Anyone could see that my whole body was shaking. Yet I stood straight, staring carelessly at the horizon. My grief and fear peaked when an approaching car began slowing down and pulled over next to me, its engine making a strange sound. The window of the old, green car rolled down, revealing the driver. A black moustache and slightly greying hair surrounded his thin face with sharp features. He began speaking to me in a gentle voice that did not match his demeanour at all. His coarse smile didn’t match the melody with which he spoke the language that I still could not understand.

   What is he saying to me?! What is he saying to me?! I guessed he was offering help but I still preferred the wings of darkness that surrounded me. I had to keep up appearances. He couldn’t know that I was completely lost in a strange place and that I didn’t understand a word he was saying. I was pretending to listen to his proposal and as gently as I could, I replied:

   “Muchas gracias (Thank you very much).”

   The elderly man continued his slightly coarse monologue as if he was teasing me.

   “Muchas gracias,” I repeated determined, giving him a look that could kill. I knew that my uncommonly light blonde hair and unusually light, blue eyes have the ability to scare people with their power. With this look I was trying to send him a message. I was like an animal scanning and testing its opponent before attacking. It is common in nature that in such situations, one of the animals wins the fight simply by looking at its opponent in a way that says: ”I am power, don’t come any closer, you do not know my internal power, go away”. I guess my look worked as he mumbled something offended, rolled up his window and drove off with screeching tires, kicking up gravel in my direction.

   He was looking at me with dark, clever eyes. I had the feeling that with his piercing look he was traveling to the depth of my essence. I felt uncomfortable.

   “Why are you here?” he asked calmly, without breaking his piercing and testing look.

   His question sounded like a bell echoing in my mind.

   “I don’t know,” I answered whispering, surprised by my answer.

   “Earlier I thought I was here to heal my body, but now I think that my soul needs healing.”

   Don Eduardo’s massive body didn’t even move. He was sitting in a big, old, wooden chair on the other side of a small table between us. His persistent look made me feel like the distance between us was shrinking.

   I felt the tiny drops of sweat on my forehead were being chilled by the cool drought coming through a window. From the garden covered in darkness, dense bushes of blooming bougainvillea were creeping in through the windows like uninvited guests. And somewhere in the distance, a lonely bird began its singing tribute to the setting sun.

   Why am I here? I was pondering the question I had been asked.

I had come to Don Eduardo, a curandero, which meant medicine man, thanks to Juanita’s recommendation. Juanita was a neighbour I had become friends with. I had been very ill the last few days, with a high fever, no vital powers, weaker with each day. I had no energy, I couldn’t even take a few steps, not to mention complete simple tasks. Doctors were useless and suspected several diseases or reasons but after going through complete medical tests, none of their suspicions seemed to be right. Medicine made things even worse, not only did they not reduce my fever but they also caused vomiting.

   “Help me Juanita,” I whispered at her door, almost fainting on the doorstep the previous night.

   The medicine man seemed to be the only reasonable solution. I had often listened to fascinating stories about her friend who practiced magic, healed people, contacted the ghosts of ancestors and was generally an incredible man. We had even planned to visit him one day, but we kept postponing. Not that I wasn’t interested; on the contrary, the word “magic” stirred my curiosity but also evoked fear. So I had waited for the opportunity, without trying to hasten or postpone our meeting. Yet I never thought I would meet him in such circumstances…

   “Lay down under the pyramid,” he said in a firm yet incredibly warm voice.

   In the middle of the room, on the slightly worn carpet with a brown and cream-colored flower pattern, there was a meter-high frame of a pyramid. Just below it there was a thin mattress covered by a white sheet. I took my shoes off and lay down on it without comment. I looked at the pyramid from below; it was made of a thin metal, probably copper.

   I felt slightly dizzy.

   “Close your eyes,” he said and after a short while he turned to me wearing a puma mask on his face.

   I obediently closed my eyes. I felt  fever in every bit of my body and my heart started beating like crazy.

   Don Eduardo howled like some wild animal…

   “You are Blanka, um…” she confirmed rather than asked. “What are you doing in a part of the world so far from your home?” she asked with undisguised curiosity.

   “Actually, I am trying to find out who I am,” I answered seriously.

   “Oh, not a bad idea, hahaha,” she laughed at my response. “And you could not find the answer at home?”

   “No, at home I could not. I got lost in the volume of things to do, in work and the senselessness of life.

   “And here?” she asked with a piercing gaze.

   “Here, she was right about to start in her old ways,” interrupted Eduardo who was just leaving his room.

   I felt uncomfortable.

   Is he attacking me? I thought reproachfully. I wanted to make the best impression on Donna Dulce and here he was ruining it for me. I had the impression that with word I  looked more and more ridiculous in her eyes.

   “She’s working like an ox again, crying over something she thought was love and has no time to touch the world,” he ruthlessly finished his speech.

   I was confused by his answer, most of all because what he had said was true.

   “What would you like from life, my dear child?” She asked again in the tone of a kind and trustworthy old woman.

   “To feel like a part of existence. In the greatest sense. I have already learned that there is nothing to be conquered in life. Achievements are only fleeting episodes that come and go. I’m talking about the inside. Its peace. And to feel the world with my entire being. A world bubbling with life. At the same time, however, I want to remain unseparated from the world, complete, total…”

   “Be so, my child. Stay in the present. Nothing more…” she added, pouring another cup of tea.

   “Whatever happens, endure and be careful. Open your senses, spirit and mind. Observe – the sharper your attention, the more you will be a part of events. The feeling of being on the outside comes from the fact that a person is distracted and does not notice, does not see, is wrapped up in a million things and forgets about the magic of the moment. About what is actually happening now. About this unique and one-time moment that will never come back…”

   “Do you think the moment of our conversation will come back?” she asked suddenly.

   “Never. Time and space are like a wave that lasts forever and flows. It takes everyone with it. Even those who cling to a place and do not want to go out into the world. The present flows, and he one who fights it lives outside of time, outside of his own nature. He is never satisfied because doesn’t know what it is to be a part of existence. An internal pain tears through his chest because he knows intuitively that the direction in which he is going is opposite to the one he should take. He creates a growing gap between what is now and what is in his head. He is going with the flow of existence anyway, but as a voluntary exile from paradise he is forever escaping in his thoughts to the past or the future. Comparing, calculating. He thinks he is thinking, but he does not feel…” she added sadly.

   “And that is when man is so totally outside of life. Whatever he does, he is not its participant. For participation to occur, there must be a conscious consent of the mind. For there to be consent, a person must become an observer. An observer of himself and of his own aspirations. An observer of what is happening in every second of life. And this is the greatest achievement. Life extended by infinity. Because in one second of that kind of life there is more life than what is usually called a complete human life. Because that kind of a person is asleep. He is not here, he only exists in a certain frameworks imposed by his imaginative mind. Until the moment when something begins to crack…” it seemed to me she was sneering.

   “You thought this had already happened to you,” she was reading me like an open book, just like Eduardo.

   “No my dear. You just thought so. In order to be, you have to BE.”

   “You came here for something. Not to see an old shaman woman. Your soul suffers from a hunger that no one and nothing is able to appease. Only the whole world can satisfy this hunger. The whole world melting with you. Not only individual parts of it.”

   I was sitting there and listening to the words of Donna Dulce in complete agreement. Somewhere along the way I had exchanged the cold for heat, light skin for dark, short hair for long but I still felt unsatisfied. She was right. At the bottom of my soul I felt unfulfillment, the eternal chase to gain something, to complete something, to reach the finish line. I was running a relay race, handing the torch to myself. And it was only as I was passing on the torch that I experienced moments of awareness. In the meantime, I ran. I would reach the finish line, rest a while, only to pick up again and begin a frenzied run with a new torch. No finish line was the end, there was never any time to breath and calm down. My thoughts always ran ahead to the future, towards a shining goal that never brought relief. On the contrary. My soul was increasing more unfulfilled, frustrated. I tended to fall into patterns veiled in independence, into more stories and colourful continents, filled with new flavours, smells and colours.

   “Can you do nothing?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

   “I think everyone knows how to do nothing.”

   “You think too much. Have YOU ever done nothing? Throughout an entire day?”

   I wondered for a moment. There were such days, yes.

   “I mean not making plans. Any plans. Not for a second, throughout the whole day.”

   “I cannot answer this question,” I answered honestly.

   “So where is your awareness?”

   “Dispersed like perfume that has sprinkled the air instead of skin, merging with it and vanishing without a trace,” Eduardo answered for me, looking into the distance, through the window at the darkening mountain peaks that were turning a purple colour.

   “This world, in which most people live,” continued the shaman, “ wants to create the illusion of being compact and stable. For this purpose there are hospitals, insurance, pharmaceutical companies and doctors. Everyone thinks they will live forever and that science and medicine will heal their infirmity or illness and extends life for months or years. Nothing could be more misleading.”

   “This ghastly circle creates ghastly people, deluded that one day will be a day of rest, that when only they achieve this or that, the time will come for celebration and life. Life, however, goes away and does not come. The more they try to catch up with it, the more it runs away. It’s like a crazy dog that wants to catch its own tail. It will never succeed. It’s impossible. Unless it relaxes. Unless it lies down and rolls up into a ball. Then its relaxed body can touch its tail. And this is the only way – effortlessly – that things can exist. It is a lie and an illusion that we must be in pursuit of something. Creation is natural. Man creates his fate naturally. Everything is done naturally. Trees grow naturally. Rain falls naturally, the sun and the earth move naturally and effortlessly. So why did man fall out of this natural cycle?”

   “Because he wanted more,” she added thoughtfully. “He wanted more and got less. He wanted to reach the stars, and lost contact with the ground. He wanted to be like birds or tigers, and ceased to be himself. This is the disaster of modern civilization. Man lost his humanity and does not know how to find it…”

   “Meanwhile so little is enough, just BE… There is no greater magic than the one existing around us. All you need is to open your eyes and look around. Look with your eyes and your soul. The soul connects with the whole, with totality. It is never separated. It is always complete. It is always a part and a whole at the same time…”

   She smiled at me kindly.

   “Come to me, my child,” she said fondly.

   “Today you entered into our circle. You are one of us, although you will have to go…” she took a short break, handing me a little bundle. My fingers recognized my car keys. “ … this evening will stay with you forever.”

   “Today you faced your own death involuntarily. You saw its face and though you could not withstand its presence for long, you met with it and you will never forget it.”

   “This is for you,” she added, suspending a tiny necklace of black obsidian in the shape of a cougar preparing to pounce on my neck.

   “Now sit back and do nothing for 20 minutes,” she said with a smile.

   “Really, nothing?” I asked, teasing.

   “Yes, look into space with your eyes open and with an open soul. Nothing more. Do not focus on anything in particular; do not chase your thoughts. Be, my child, just begin to be.”

   “This is the highest meditation. Not escaping from the world, but opening up to it. Not locking yourself up in four walls, but opening up to the sound of the wind, the rustling leaves and the smells that reach your nostrils. Do not follow your thoughts; they are like clouds in the sky. You are the sky, the earth and the sun, the entire galaxy and all that exists… Be a watchful observer, that is how wisdom is born. From silence, observing and listening… Be watchful and attentive. This way, you will not need to look for the world; it will fall at your feet.”

   I sat near the other women facing the fire, sinking my sight into the golden flames. Thoughts flowed, but I was not thoughts; emotions and feelings were born, but I was not them. I was becoming something much greater and more extensive. The longer I observed space, the more I melted in it and merged with it.

   “She and I are one.” That was the last thought that came to my mind.

   In the room I knew very well the air was stuffy. The scent of frequently burning incense had penetrated the space as well as all the items inside so deeply, that even with my eyes closed, I would know where am was.

   Eduardo was sitting on the floor as usual with his legs crossed, across from me, enjoying fresh white tea whose delicate aroma was blending with the peculiar scent of his house. With every sip he was closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and being still for a few seconds, enjoying his tea as if was a nectar of the gods.

   I haven’t reached such perfection yet, I thought. Of course my time has slowed down since my last visit to the Monte Alban shamans, but it wasn’t the same as it was there anymore. I had plans and things to do again. New dreams and new targets. My mind worked hardtop the max , creating painting-like photos even while I was asleep. The colours of these pictures were beyond the context of the colours we knew. A new idea exploded every minute, I tried to tame them, confronting reality and possibilities I had.

   I was only afraid of one thing: that I would be lost again in reality; that I would lose my balance and completely lose myself in creating.

   Eduardo put his little, still half full cup down and looked at me with a smile. I was happy to be friends with someone so unusual.

   “So, you are in a rush once again, aren’t you?”

   “Yes, yes, yes,” I nodded my head with the face of a scolded child, “but this time I am creating, I am making my dreams come true,” I added in self-defence.

   “Real miracles are happening, Eduardo. It is like being a fairy in a fable and making things happen with my magic wand. It is truly incredible what’s going on.”

   I told him my story of the last weeks.

   “Blanka, it is because you are synchronized now and the magic is now a part of your day. You really want something and you are honest and at peace with yourself. You concentrate your efforts and then you act. In this situation, the universe has no choice but to respond your call. Because you are calling a spirit living in your body, and from this level the cosmic network is forming in a way to fulfil your wishes. It has no other way. That is the explanation for the miracles. The closer to the spirit you are, the quicker your plans come to life.”

   “What does it mean “to be closer to the spirit”? he continued, “It means to listen to yourself. Listen to every level of yourself with honestly and an open heart . To go down the lift of your being and then go back up asking the same question at every level: Is this what my external me wants together with the will of my spirit. If you can manage to get to those places and the answer is “yes”, there will be no power able to ruin your plan. As people, we have unlimited possibilities of creation. But we have forgotten about them. And they are  often abandoned, covered with the soot of unneeded and unreal desires – often borrowed from others or inspired by the media. That is why mankind needs awakening. To get out of a dead end. The dark, smelly corner of our limits. To enter it only to get out of it. This is our aim. Not like some people think – life sealed in the four walls of spiritualism with knees tired from meditations. To open up to the world – that is why we are here. To finally blend with the world. Because we and the world are one.

   “Most people think that “I” is embedded  in a certain part of the body, that  “I” and the body are one and besides this there is something they can’t control – some external and settled reality. But if we honestly think about it: what control do we have over our material body?” he paused”

   -We have no control over processes in our body,” he continued “Over cells dying and dividing, over our heart beating, blood pumping, over chemical reactions in our brain. We can’t even control the time at which we will fall asleep or when we have to go to the toilet.  These processes are regulated independently of our will. And living in the world that assumes we are a body, we believe this so much we don’t even try to doubt this old paradigm. The moment we began believing we are only a body, we lost the ability to create. Because WE is something entirely different– it both the mind and the soul, and the body too, of course – but humans themselves are shapeless, borderless, unlimited and eternal.

   “Have you ever laid on your bed in total relaxation without moving? You should try.  If the body has no point of reference, providing your eyes are closed, you will be able to lose your own shape. Don’t move your hands. Don’t touch the sheet with your fingertips. Then honestly ask yourself a question: where are my limits? A very surprising thing may happen to you. You will not be able to answer that question, as your mind travels without any boundaries or limits. If it is only allowed to do so. If not, it creates a kind of matryoshka doll. One boundary inside of another, more and more, deeper and deeper. Every new one nearly identical to the one before. That is the whole illusion. Many people try to fight these boundaries but they don’t have enough will and determination to see what’s inside. They take the first layer off and find the next smiling doll underneath. Then the next layer comes off but they only see the same. Only some of them are able to notice that the dolls are similar but different in size. And what surrounds them is now a free space and they become smaller and smaller. And if someone gets to the last doll and opens it, what will one see? That what’s inside is the same as what’s outside – unlimited space where anything is possible and may happen…

   “Everything good and bad?” I asked, lost in thought.

   “And what is bad?” These are only experiences. If we are good observers, it happens quite often that with time we are able to notice the positive consequences of something previously considered negative.

   “Have you ever seen your shadow? It is dark but that doesn’t mean it is bad. It is with you all your life, the brighter the sun, the stronger its contrast. When its cloudy, your shadow is barely visible, if it’s sunny it is more visible. It is like a natural way of searching for balance. But for real there is only light. It just exists. It is the basis of everything and everyone.

   “Why aren’t we able to notice that?” I asked curiously.

   He paused for a while, reaching for a black marker and a blank sheet of paper.

   He quickly coloured half of the sheet black.

   “Have a look Blanka. You are only able to see the light when it contrasts with the darkness. This sheet of paper was only potential earlier. You didn’t even notice its purity and brightness. Whiteness. It was only by contrast that you were able to see it. And this sheet of paper is still white underneath.”

   He turned the paper.

   “This black colour is only on the surface. Everything that exists is of light, but thanks to the darkness, things take on shapes and forms. Otherwise, we would all be one bright and shapeless mass. That is why the darkness is not bad at all.”

   “It is only on the surface,” he added, lost in his thoughts and looking out the window.

   “Negative emotions, negative actions – those are only noises of a trained mind, a mind that gets used to habits. The base is always good. It contains peace and ubiquity. Anger is just the expression of our external ego. I wonder what this world would look like if people focused on only one thing –controlling their anger.

   “Do you think it would be possible?” I asked.

   “Everything is possible… Just start from yourself,” he smiled, winking at me. “Don’t look at others, looking for excuses in them for your own negative actions. It seems this world has gone mad, doesn’t it? But the key matter is whether we have gone mad as well or not. Have we fallen into a trap of poor and trashy existence. Existence is what it is, but it surely isn’t poor. It is totality and unlimited. We only  believe in righteousness of repeating certain behaviours. The more we stick in this pattern, the more it becomes our reality. A reality so unattractive that many people ask themselves the question: what can you do when you neither want to live nor die?

   You can change everything.

This is a unique website which will require a more modern browser to work!

Please upgrade today!