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“How the world is changing! And how I myself change!
Only by the name of one I am called
In fact, what they call me -
I'm not alone. There are a lot of us. I'm alive.
So that my blood does not cool down,
I died more than once. Oh, how many dead bodies
I am separated from my own body! ... "
(Nikolai Zabolotsky, lines from the poem "Metamorphosis")
After these lines of the poet, you could not have written anything, but I’ve been bearing for a long time ... and I want to write.
What are you wearing?
Now I will try to describe.
There are days when I am present in an inexplicable state - it seems to be not darkness, but some kind of emptiness that I want to fill and does not go out. It does not come out, because this emptiness is filled by itself. She comes to me and I understand that for some time I have to be in her. And what, I do not know.
There are days when since the morning it is easy to remember yesterday’s state of being filled with emptiness as a heavy dream.And then completely forgotten.
It happens when you try to start a conversation with your soul, and she answers. And shows a picture that I see with my own eyes, being in it.There I am in a dark gray, foggy room, and in front there is a barely ajar door, from which light just as vaguely breaks through. And at this moment I am visited by a vague conjecture that until the exit from these obscure states, there are very few voids and windowless rooms.
“That here is just a little bit, still barely ...” (BG) Once it was the same, only on another occasion and very predictable.But now somehow globally and all-consuming. Moreover, with a large number of unknowns. And it seems that I am here, but it seems that there is already no me here. But this is not about death (in case someone misinterprets).
This is about the internal metamorphosis that I once chose as my way through life.And now I understand that it could not be otherwise. In my life definitely could not be otherwise. And even if I had not chosen any path, the path would have chosen me myself.
And now we coexist with him, because we met completely. And I want it or not, but I just have to live all that is offered on this way. And I reconciled with this without all kinds of resistance. Now. Although earlier I tried to resist, of course, but I understood that these resistances lead me away from myself and from the path itself.
There is a feeling that I am still moving towards the exit from that gray room..
This feeling is made up of my dreams, experienced states, what is happening around me, those people who write to me. And those who come to me. Taken together, this is similar to moving through some kind of invisible veil, dense, but passable.
It is not known yet where I'm going. I just feel that I have to make small efforts, as if I was walking under water. Sometimes you want faster, but does not work. Sometimes I get tired and I think that I will stay here where I am, but the “wave” pushes me, it does not let me stay up.
I pass and pass through the veil, and even began to get a peculiar pleasure from this process. Although at first it was completely incomprehensible, in connection with which, all the previous “settings” from my own personal experiences were lost, and why such things began - nothing similar to what was previously known.
This is really a transition to another dimension.. Otherwise you will not name. Moreover, the transition is not with the help of some technologies (it is accelerated, and therefore does not always take into account what is happening in real time for humans), but such a living one, stretched in real earthly time. Or in the time that is only mine for me.
So, and why all this writings - you say?
To the fact that a person who starts some kind of internal changes and knowing himself as nobody knows him (and he didn’t know before, because he knew only what he was told about him), was not surprised and did not stray out of the way. To not give names to what is happening, and was in what comes, as long as it takes only for their sensations and feelings. Because,when you pass your way completely, not “in an accelerated mode”, you collect all the precious things that you should acquire on this way.And who is in a hurry, as we know from the proverb ..., he will have to come back to collect the un-received.
When I sit down to write, I strive not to describe my experiences: I don’t need to tell a lot of people about myself. I make these descriptions for a single reason: to talk about moving along the path of life (the path of self-knowledge or the spiritual path) so that anyone who reads it becomes clear that he is not alone, that everything that happens is not signs of delirium or madness. whatin the life of a man who has gone his own way, there are many unknowns.And that all this takes time and the ability to accept, and also to live what is happening with yourself.