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...Let's continue talking, but first we would say that spiritual prerequisites to bones', lungs', pancreas cancer, to chronical myeloblast leucaemia and to other blood cancer viruses come from fanaticism no matter in what way it is demonstrated...
Let's continue talking, but first we would say that spiritual prerequisites to bones', lungs', pancreas cancer, to chronical myeloblast leucaemia and to other blood cancer viruses come from fanaticism no matter in what way it is demonstrated. Fanaticism is the mixture of the fear's, inner-irritation energy flows that grow into the undercurrent obstinacy. It may also happen to develop through hostility forced by will to aggression. Think of that at your leisure, our dear listeners. We would also say that these five stories do not include the main issue of your present that describes the lust energy movement, since it is not an issue at question now. All sorts of breasts, prostate, testicles, cervix uteri cancer viruses and others, all of them are the result of allover dissoluteness. And it is no way out. The Teacher is very strict, as well as the heavens thus we'd say: all viruses forenamed are the pain and disgrace of your Triads. Unfortunately you cannot perceive all you do for dirty amusement which is allover advertised through TV is to doom your spirit and bodies to sufferings. You should keep in mind that all viruses are the consequences of your previous incarnations's failures but the cancer viruses which you acquire nowadays, in the current incarnation.
Although we attempt to cure people baring cancer of genitals, one of the greatest tasks a patient should fulfil is max continence from sexual contacts while being healed, so you can imagine how hard it is for you to follow the rule and what a few number would stay with us. We have to admit people prefer carnal pleasures more than well-being, and choose to rot in lust instead of soon recovery and loving their halves whole-heartedly and as a consequence to give birth to healthy children. Whatever hard we fight to bring the truth to you, you stay blind and deaf and finally doom yourself to spiritual death. However we are not to force. We realized how vain all our efforts turn out to be when we try to curb your bloody passions, thus we find it unnecessary to lecture a parable to explain the sorts of genitals cancer since it appears quite useless for the mankind. However it is not far people would come for help to escape from feebleness and cure not through medical treatment. It is true, but everything depends on you, our dearest children. Please avoid clouding your spiritual life in useless incarnations. Enough for that now, it is time to tell the fourth parable, one that is given to men as a sign of great honour and admiration with those who keep inner strength and beauty of their Spirit. The parable would bring the consolation and smoothing love flows. Well..
Once in the morning, when the dawn was barely rising above Earth, a young girl went to the lake nearby her house and applied the dawn with the following words:
- Thank you so much, my dearest dawn for gifting us with joy and hope every morning! Thank you so much Beauty for coming here in our lands, to my dearest lake!
Here the Dawn answered our girl with the scattering of golden lights sparkling on lea dew-drops and on lake water lilies finer than gems themselves. The girl lived near lake alone since her dearest father, a forest warden died. Her mother had long ago left for the city cause she highly appreciated the civilized society and concrete sky-scrapers, much more than verdant forests and lake lilies. She left daughter with her father in order nothing to disturb her career. The girl meanwhile was highly glad it all went so, cause she could not stand stone slums where instead of clean air you would breath exhausts, instead of birdies' warbles you would hear car hornes and motorbike roar, instead of the dawn you would see blaze brown of city factories, endless smog-half-fog. In a word, She was not modern. Her name was Ptichee. It is how she named herself in her childhood and never allowed her dearest father call her somehow different. And she was incredibly beautiful. Since her skin was not touched with creams and gels, but knew the lake and water drops only, forest trees extracts and cedar's oil, it smelled in the way that a city man's body would never do.
It smelled like fresh leaves or like cool water and the Sun. There are no such smells among city factories and chimneys, parfume shops and you would never imitate it or catch its purity and delicacy of a healthy young body into the bottle. Her hair avoided shampoo and thus shined as if the Sun settled in each her brazen hair. Ptichee washed her hair with the forest green decoction and put there a pinch of ashes. Her eyelashes never met chemical colours or eye-shadows, and were fluffy and bright. So she was a beauty. Her waist was slender and supple since her every day Ptichee filled with work. Hardly ever she be like the city men, but she was not at all savageous. She was clearly natural and full of life just as icy water of spring. So when Ptichee welcomed the Dawn that was raising high up the forest, she saw a man on the other bank of the lake. The man stood swaying for a while and then fell down. Ptichee took her father's boat and sailed across the lake. The elderly man lied on the grass face down, and his shoulder was bleeding. He seemed to be out, so Ptichee turned him upwards carefully and saw a bullet hole.
Oh, now it is clear, he is wounded, but how shall I drag him into the boat? - she thought, but took his heavy head into her hands and said tenderly:
- Oh man, please look into my eyes. You need to get into the boat. I will help you and heal your wounds, but I cannot drag you into my house. I need your help. Get up now.
Her tender and pure voice sounded so unusually tough, that the man opened his eyes, rose to his feet heavily and dragged himself into the boat. While sailing back Ptichee kept singing quietly and tenderly, in an unknown language, it seemed to be built with vowels only, and what wonder kept him in his senses and made him get out of the boat and come to the house then fall to the bench Ptichee showd. Then suddenly he lost his senses. So he slept in Ptichee's house for a long time, but when he woke up, first thing he saw was the Sun rays shining through the chinks of Ptichee's house roof. The goldish stream-like Sun rays tied with the light strings just as the dill's blades ran over the room. It looked so unusual to him, that the wounded man closed his eyes tight for a moment and the opened again.
Oh, yes, it was all there: the Sun rays shining through tiny chinks of the roof ... and him feeling so comfortly and peacefully as never before. The tired wanderer tried with an effort to remember what had happened and how he got here. All he had were just incoherent and disjointed half-memories. He in an arm-chair. An office - his office - his own company - he is the top. Up to here all clear. He was arguing with a woman, a pretty one, embittered and manicured. Her awful red nails. Further. He drove a car, big white car with a bumper crushed earlier. He was angry, but why? Why were all his memories negative? He tried again to call some other memories of his last life. A bottle. One more, and more, and an ash-tray. He was angry again. Again red nails and a pretty woman, crying and cursing him. He snapped back. Oh, everything negative. Don't give up, go on. Another woman - black nails, coloured hair - pain - high resentment - money - a bottle - another bottle - an ash-tray... Oh, enough. I need rest. He opened his eyes and saw the Sun rays shining the same gaily and chasing with the roof chinks. He shifted his gaze to the table that stood near the bench. There was a bullet, his bullet that stood straight and looked at him as if for the first time. Where did it come from? I need to remember. The office - overcrowded - a talk. I was angry again, as well as others. Whispering something fiercely. I spitted upon them back. They left and I felt scared. I dialed someone but no one answered. I got into the car and drove somewhere ... The cars that followed me made me stopped. Crash. I was gagged and hit in the face. Then I were in the boot. My hands numb. Forest. A shot. I ran then fell down, then ran again, again fell down. Then the voice and the song, the Sun shining. That's it. I was wounded, that is clear, but why? No memories about that at all. Here Ptichee came in very quietly. She sat near the bench and uttered: "Welcome back".
The man was confused for a while. The new, forest reality utterly differed from all the memories about his life. He remembered he saw already her copper-coloured hair and eyes before he fainted away. And the voice. It was her voice.
- Here is your bullet, wanderer, - Ptichee said.
- It is Erik.
- Ok. Here is your bullet, Erik. I am Ptichee. It is four days you have been here already, and you are getting better very quickly. Very soon you will recover.
- Thank you.
Ptichee stood up and left. It was so much to do in the forest and about the lake. Erik tried to sit down on the bench. He did well. Great. Then he tried to get up. Well done. He went out of the house to appear surrounded with the forest silence. The lake glittered with its surface. He came near the water and gazed. The lake mirrored an old face exhausted with vainness and pain. " Well, well, well... I am a fifty years old needless man. All my life rushed in a day, always in search for better, but nothing found finally... My work gave me just depression and fears... and a bullet also. Women honoured me with tears and pain. Did I love anyone ever? Was I loved back? Oh, God". Erik sobbed over the lake water. For the first time in his life he cried repentant, but not resentful and bitter tears. "So soon I grew old, - he thought, - what am I finally? Nothing. How many I have hurt, how many have hurt me, it is only the God that may count... The God. When did I last think of him without asking for a favour? I cannot remember a case..." Suddenly Ptichee interrupted his bitter thoughts and said cheerfully:
- Hey, Erik the wanderer. Let's have some food. It is time.
There was a steaming porridge, a salad and a fruit drink on the table. Erik ate. Never before he got so much pleasure from eating: always in a rush, gulping sandwiches on the move, in the car, but here... The Sun shining through the chinks, the porridge steaming, the lake smoothing... Wonderful.
- After the lunch you will go with me for hunting, - Ptichee said.
- Ok, - said Erik in a wonder. He did not see a fell or a gun.
- You will be surprised with the way of hunting, - said Ptichee to answer his thoughts and laughed. Erik helped her clear the table and they left.
Ptichee had a huge cloth bag at her back, and gave the same to Erik. For hunting, she said. In the forest Erik felt even better than near the lake: nothing ached but the heart - it was his soul reviving from sopor. He was feeling so much in the bottom of his heart now - feeling free, feeling toblame, feeling glad and feeling peace.
- Erik, you may see, that underfoot we have got cowberry, bilberry and great bilberry. Gather the berries carefully, in order not to tear the bushes' leaves, put all into the pocket of the bag.
Erik looked into his bag and saw several well divided pockets, covered with heavy cloths to avoid berries squashed. For the first time Erik was gathering berries. Finally he got incredibly tired, but Ptichee led him further.
- Have a look, Erik, it is the Cedars. Gather the cones lying down the trees, but never hammer the Cedars.
Then Ptichee showd milk-mushrooms, brown, saffron milk caps, honey fungi and the greatest mushroom. In short, they had big luggage on their way back. Ptichee stopped Erik and said facing the mighty Cedars: "Thank you so much, The Forest Master, good-bye now".
Very strange girl Ptichee. For the first time in his life he felt happy. Pure and happy.
- That's it, we are finished with hunting now, - said strange girl Ptichee and laughed again.
For seven days Erik helped Ptichee gather berries and mushrooms, and finally he got just a few poisonous among others, since he learnt to discern them by colour and shape. He also thanked the Master for his gifts now. He used to be glad with the Dawn or rain, or the Sum rising, to be glad to live and breath. For the first time he thanked God and life for all given, and did not ask for favours. He thanked God for meeting Ptichee, because for the first time in his life loved. He could not approach her however, since he felt dirty near her, but love may not be bounded, and that was what Ptichee said on his leaving her house.
- You are beautiful, Erik the wanderer, with all my heart I love you, with all my heart I care about you. I know you fear coming closer to me, fear your loving me. If it is your age that embarasses you, I shall say you are still wrapped in your desires. If you may not believe I love you, then you know what you need to do. Go, Dear, and remember: two hearts loving each other will get over all on Earth, neither time, nor lands may stop them. It is Love only they live with. Go now, Dear, to come back once.
Erik came back to the city, got rid of his company, sold the house and asked the women he once hurt for mercy. He left to stay alone in the forest. Without Ptichee. He needed to learn this way of life, of true life. He built a house, learnt to fish and make porridge. Many things he learnt led with his Love, cause he wanted so much to deserve being with Ptichee, that waited for him. Well, be they happy together.
That's the story. That was the fourth parable, and it is time to tell the last one. It is tomorrow we will start, but now please ponder. And seek to be happy.
The 25 of February, 2007