The Book of Knowledge. Playing Another Reality. C. Castaneda award

“How are you?” asked the Teacher, carefully looking somewhere very, very deep inside me.

“You were able to combine the Earthly and Another Realities, you became a Teacher. I don’t know what to do. I have to create something important for the world, but what exactly? Nothing interests me, nothing holds me here. I want to live, but I don’t see my Future. Previously, I always knew where I was going and what for. I set goals and put the puzzles together. But I did everything I could and indeed wanted to do. The only one who could keep me here is the Man Who Was Not, however, He Is Not either.”

“People like you, Alice, tend to be lonely. You know it perfectly well. You need to find something that hooks you. I have been going through various options for several minutes, but your brain is rejecting them. Not yours. The scale is not yours. Let’s set up a program. Let Another Reality tell you the option. I see one more problem also. You are broken, like a vase, into small pieces. You lost your integrity.”

“How could it happen?” I was surprised.

“You didn’t break the laws of Another Reality, but someone from There did it. He is not here. You’ve gone too far, Alice. I’ve rarely met people who went so far. It’s very dangerous. I’m shown a Black Shadow now. It broke you up not long ago, when you walked There.”

“Did I walk too far?”

“Someone didn’t want that. They managed to break you because you lost your goal. Set a clear goal. What are you going There for? It helps you stay focused and integrated. Otherwise, when you find yourself in Another Reality, you disintegrate and become absolutely defenseless and vulnerable; they can do anything to you.”

“Attach parts of another one and take mine away before assembling?”

“Exactly. As a result, you can come back different, assembled differently. However, you were hit purposefully. You came back the same, but the inner connections were broken.”

“What about in a dream?”

“Firstly, most people don’t go There in their dreams. Secondly, we have protection of the Subconscious program. If something is wrong, one is immediately thrown back into the body. Of course, any program can be hacked. But you go to other places, and not just in your dreams. Moreover, you must remember that you don’t have a guard. You do everything by yourself. You came Here on your own. You open the Door yourself and go There for a walk. Therefore, you have to protect yourself There too, no one to count on.”

“What to do with it now?”

“I’ll have to direct you to the Center of the Universe, guide you through the Crystal… Relax. Everything will be fine. Just don’t forget for a moment about your goal, what you are going There for.”

…I got on the plane. So they call here a variety of artificial birds bred by people who, apparently, really wanted to fly, but had no wings. Funny! People were smart enough to come up with such a complex bird, but they still haven’t recalled that in order to take off and fly, and even move in spaces, it’s not at all necessary to resort to such sophistications. Iron birds don’t fly of their own accord. They will never become real birds. Meanwhile, a man is a real bird, who just doesn’t want to spread the wings given from birth. Of course, they are invisible to earthly vision, but if you close your eyes… I closed my eyes. The plane took off.

Perhaps, having failed to find the Stairway to Heaven, people invented iron birds to rise above the clouds, and find God there, and talk about all sorts of different things, everyone about one’s own. People are always looking somewhere very far for something that is actually very, very close and, as a rule, within themselves. Anyhow, I love iron birds. I love the planes which fly away, no matter where, because it feels like moving forward. The main thing is ahead and not back. I don’t like going back.

I had a business trip to an exhibition in Italy, the country where I had been many, many times and felt at home. I spoke Italian as a native, knew several local dialects. Many of my friends, including Maria the clairvoyant lived in Italy. That time I didn’t want to go there, because RAM was coming to my city, however, I couldn’t refuse the business trip, since the bosses, well versed in the Earthly Reality, understood nothing about Another one, therefore they were the bosses.

It was snowing in my city, meanwhile there was green grass in the city of M. The company, our business partner, booked me a hotel with a huge number of stars.

People assign stars to hotels. Why stars? They could have assigned something else. For example, birds. Why are birds worse than stars? I learnt already that people are strange creatures. One of them once came up with something, and now it’s accepted as the way it is here. Nobody even thinks why? And why accepted? Accepted by whom? For what purpose? Is there any divine meaning? As a rule, it makes no sense, just the way to do. And everyone does what is accepted, because they are afraid of not being like everyone else, of not being accepted by others, and they stop being themselves – being birds, even in their souls. People put on masks that gradually merge with their real faces and lose themselves.

The exhibition was to open the next day. It was about six in the evening, so I wanted to take a walk around the city center. I left my things in the room and asked the receptionist the way to Cathedral Square.

“There is a tram stop right in front of the hotel. It’s about forty minutes to Cathedral Square.”

“How is our tram stop called?” I asked, as it seemed to me, a completely harmless question, but the man hesitated, as if he didn’t want to answer, so I explained, “When I go back, it will be already dark, what if I pass it by…”

“No,” the man sighed. “You won’t pass it by. This is the final stop, called Cemetery. There is the largest cemetery in the city nearby.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “A five-star hotel in the cemetery! Feel at home! Stay at our hotel and you are guaranteed an unforgettable experience!” Great ad, admit it. It was strange that no one had used it yet. Anyhow, in the name of the final stop of the local tram one could see a certain divine meaning.

Having entered the tram, I noticed on the wall the rules for traveling on that type of public transport. If you ever find yourself in the city of M., and not alone, but with a cat or a dog, I advise you to read the text in advance. One of its paragraphs regulates the relationship between cats and dogs if they find themselves on the same tram at the same time and one of them expresses displeasure at the presence of the other, up to which of them should give up their seat, leaving the tram, and wait for the next one to continue the path.

Cathedral Square in the city of M., named after its main attraction, the City Cathedral, is surrounded by galleries with expensive shops, cafes and restaurants. To feel a city (no matter which one), you need to wander around it alone, ride public transport, sit in a cafe where locals drink coffee, go to shops not intended for tourists. You can read a smart book about the city, visit its sights, listen to a guide, but you won’t be able to feel its soul if you don’t stay face-to-face with it at least for a while.

There was nowhere to rush, the whole evening belonged to me, and the whole city of M. that evening belonged to me. Believe me, even just one evening is not so little. I smiled, took a deep breath of the city air, spread my wings, but in order not to seem strange to those around me, I didn’t fly off, but walked with a leisurely light gait towards the majestic Gothic Cathedral, which looked like a bird. For many years, it had been trying with all its might to break away from the Earth, dreamed of soaring in the beautiful blue-blue Sky. I walked inside and felt like a little girl. There were almost no people there, the mass was over. It was dark.

Every step I took exploded the Silence peacefully dormant in the Cathedral. I approached the altar and suddenly heard music. Quiet, quiet, barely perceptible, it poured from somewhere above, from the eternal and inexhaustible Primary Source, and my soul smiled.

When I was twelve, my French Catholic grandmother took me to the Gothic Cathedral. I had to choose between Catholicism and Orthodoxy. I chose the latter because I felt uncomfortable in the gloomy Cathedral. However, I soon realized that any religion was one of the Paths to God, who was the same for everyone, regardless of which Path you took to Him.

If I had been born in a country with a different faith, I would have come to God through it. I always remember that people are guests on our Earth, and their true home is Heaven. God lives not only in Heaven. God permeates everything and everyone on the Earth. There is no place where He is absent, well, almost no…

I left the Cathedral. My wallet was content with business trip allowances, but I decided to allow myself a cup of coffee in a cafe on Cathedral Square. Coffee in Italy is one of the best, at least for my taste. Italian friends taught me to brew their coffee. But the original is always better than the copy. I sat down at a table and enjoyed the view of Cathedral Square, along which, besides people, many birds were walking.

I have never thought why birds love squares near Cathedrals. Maybe because traditionally the Holy Spirit is depicted in their image and something attracts birds to the Cathedrals as strongly as me since childhood.

I was looking at the buildings surrounding Cathedral Square, when suddenly on the roof of one of them I noticed a huge sign with three letters, ‘RAY’. There were no signs on all other buildings. Ray liked to remind me of himself.

We saw each other the last time at a major exhibition held a few months before in the industry which I had been sent to work by the Higher Forces. The exhibition took place simultaneously in eight large pavilions. I knew that Ray had to be there, and even in which pavilion to the left of the main entrance, so I purposefully walked to the right. My day was scheduled with meetings and negotiations, but I arrived earlier, since I disliked to be late. Having walked two thirds of the pavilion, I froze at a stand. People walked around me, but I continued to stand rooted to the spot, meditating over the earthly exhibition samples. There was nothing special about them, and I didn’t understand what I was doing there. After about five minutes, I wanted to turn around and continue the aimless journey into the distance, when the hypnotized state of my Consciousness was destroyed by the phrase of a familiar, like twice two, grinning male voice that sounded very close, “Hello, Alice.”

“Ray! What are you doing here?” I exclaimed.

“What do you think? Waiting for you!”

I looked at the name of the company located on the stand. Ray had nothing to do with it, or its products. He shook his head sympathetically, appreciating my gaze.

“I watched you standing enchanted at what you had no need at all, just like me, and I thought, after all, you felt that you should go to the right and stop here, but you couldn’t turn your head to find the reason. Just a little bit missed, Alice, as always. You walk the right Path, unmistakably feeling which way to turn, but at the next intermediate point on the route you don’t raise your head to see the main thing and understand what you are doing there. Would you really be able to turn around and leave if I hadn’t called you out loud? Okay, let’s go, I know you still have time for a walk.”

We wandered around the pavilion almost in silence, but not at all because we had no news to share. Having exchanged a couple of words and glances, we already knew everything, Ray knew all about me, as I did about him.

Many people reproach me for communicating with People of Darkness. However, on the one hand, the world is characterized by duality, on the other hand, each of us meets someone on the Path for a reason, because there are no accidents either in This or in Another Reality. Any person with whom we intersect in life is our Teacher and Student. The Higher Forces push us together so that we give something and receive something. Ray taught me the Universal Laws inexorable for everyone. In particular, to accept people as they are, or simply not to communicate with those whose essence is completely unacceptable to you. Each person is a Universe. Reshaping someone else’s Universe in your own image and likeness, or even condemning it for not being the same as your own, is the same as telling God, the Creator of the Universes, how deeply He was mistaken in the process of Creation, and that one of them has no right to exist. God the Creator knows the original plan of the Creation of this particular Universe, which doesn’t suit you for some reason. Fighting with it, you are fighting with God and the Higher Forces, and such a struggle is obviously doomed to defeat and punishment.

At the same time, Ray was a litmus test for my force of Light. I could have walked the Path of Black Magic with him, but I didn’t. Each of us continued to follow the own Path, knowing full well where it would ultimately lead.

Ray offered me a lunch in the canteen, carefully hidden from prying eyes on the second floor in the first pavilion. Ten minutes before the appointed time, I went up to the second floor and stood at the door to an intricate labyrinth of corridors with stairs, the only way to get to the canteen. There were almost no people there, but it was very noisy. So noisy that I wanted to turn off my hearing. I stood at the door holding my mobile phone and periodically glancing at it. The phone was silent. Ray was missing. Fifteen minutes passed. I really wanted to eat. Ray could have warned me that he was late. I decided to call him myself and… to my surprise, I found exactly seven (!) missed calls from Ray on my phone display. I dialed his number and heard laughter instead of ‘hello’.

“Where are you?” I asked, already sensing some trick.

“I’m in the canteen. Where are you?”

I was speechless, trying to figure out how that could be.

“Would you like some advice, Alice? Throw your phone to hell, why do you need it? Tell me, why do you need a phone, Alice?! Well, what for? Come here, we agreed to have lunch together.”

We were sitting in the canteen. Ray grinned. I continued to look at him with my silent question.

“How did you do that? I was standing at that door.”

“Yes, you were.”

“There’s only one door here.”

“Exactly,” Ray nodded, enjoying his cutlet by both cheeks.

“My phone was turned on.”

“Indeed, it was,” Ray was mocking.

“I was holding the phone in my hand. It didn’t ring.”

“What’s the difference, whether it rang or not, if you didn’t hear anything?”

“Well, let’s say I didn’t hear it exactly seven times in a row, but I couldn’t help but see you!”

“What were you looking at?” Ray asked with a smile.

So I realized that I had looked at ordinary passers-by exclusively with my earthly vision, trying to catch Ray among them, at the same time turning off my ears so as not to hear the crazy hum and constant advertisements.

“I see you still haven’t let go of your Past, Alice. Drop it! It will never be the same as it was then. Never, admit it. And throw away your phone. I assure you, you have had no need of it for a long time. It only bothers you. You are a bird, what do birds need a phone for?”

I finished my coffee.

The city of M. is a real city of contrasts. A trendsetter for decades, it attracts to the streets with boutiques of famous brands both oligarchs and those who pretend to be oligarchs. Meanwhile on the neighboring streets, poor emigrants sell ‘brands’ in bulk at such prices that all the goods in their store seem to cost less than a small rag handbag in the window ‘around the corner’. I used to come there with Brother, to the exhibitions. In the evenings, we walked along the streets ‘around the corner’, tried on something and, if we liked it, bought it. However, some people are ready not to try on, not to choose, but immediately to buy even what is not needed, but the most expensive, so that, upon returning home, they can show in front of numerous witnesses the stunning acquisition, including the price tag. As for me, it’s tantamount to demonstrating one’s own stupidity.

That evening the contents of my wallet clearly left much to be desired. Anyhow, wasn’t it possible to wander ‘around the corner’, admire the windows of elite stores and even enter them, to look at something, try it on and tell myself that the thing was good, but there was another one, much better, somewhere looking forward to our meeting in the nearest future? However, I wanted to visit the street where Brother and I had lived the last time, to feel again that absolute calm and freedom I had felt then. That was the happiest chapter in my Book of Life. I remembered our hotel, its name and metro station. I entered the train, sat down on an empty seat and closed my eyes.

Brother sat opposite, shifting his gaze from me to those around and back with curiosity.

“Alice, you are the spitting image of a local resident, no one will say you are a foreigner!”

We flew to the city of M. on my birthday. Brother, like me, didn’t remember anyone’s dates and was very embarrassed when it turned out once again that he was late. Just like a child afraid of getting lost in a dark forest, Brother never let me go one step away from him in the city of M. under various pretexts. In the city where we lived, he was occupied with his own business, which I never asked him about, but he constantly called me with his crown question, “Where are you?” Over the years spent together, we learned to understand each other without words, and we had unspoken, not stated out loud, rules. For example, if I sent him a message that didn’t even require a response, Brother would definitely call me back at the first opportunity. Or, if I was silent, it meant I didn’t agree with him, but I didn’t want to argue or lie, so Brother tried to make me talk in any way.

Then, in the city of M., after another congratulation call on my phone, having guessed what kind of day it was, being embarrassed, Brother apologized and immediately began to list numerous gift options, “Do you want me to give you the coolest…” I found it kindly funny. I didn’t really need anything cool. So I uttered a fateful phrase, as if feeling that it was our last trip with him to the city of M., as, indeed, to all other cities and countries, “Gift me something as a memory of yourself that I can keep forever, when you are no longer around.” Brother gave me his gift, which I still keep as a memory of that chapter of my Book of Life… But at that time, in the city of M., we were full of life, cheerful and young. We were birds.

That street was ours. I stopped for a moment, feeling my heart clench. We had walked it up and down. I took a deep breath and walked along the same street, but in a completely different chapter of my Book of Life. After walking a few meters, I suddenly realized that there was no our hotel there. At least, where it had been before. I took out the map – no changes, the hotel should be right there. I began asking passers-by about it, but as if by agreement, they knew nothing and had not heard anything. I walked along the street for quite enough, recognizing on the way every house, every shop, every kiosk where they sold tickets for the metro and tram. Having reached the last house, I crossed the road to return to the metro station on the opposite side. And everything was repeated: familiar houses, shops, kiosks. We had bought a lot of shirts for Brother in that shop, and there, yes, in the next one, I had bought myself cool clothes when Brother reluctantly let me go for a walk alone, but after half an hour he couldn’t stand it and called with an offer to join me.

I entered the shop. The same cool clothes, of course, were no longer in sale, and, naturally, I disliked everything that was there. I left the store and immediately froze finding right in front of me… Death. Yes! It was Death, in a long black cloak with a hood, with a scythe over the shoulder. I closed my eyes and opened them again. Death was looking at me from the depths of the hood, holding out a flyer and exclaiming in the local dialect, “LIVE HERE AND NOW!”

I shuddered, but didn’t take the paper invitation to follow Death. I sent it to hell not very politely in the same local dialect. Death obediently headed there, pestering people who came under its scythe along the way.

I returned to the metro, there was no hotel on that side of the street either. It was already completely dark and sad… time to go back to the hotel in the cemetery. Suddenly, I recalled the dialogue with Ray when he had walked unnoticed past me into the canteen.

“How did you do that? I was standing at that door… Let’s say I didn’t hear. But I couldn’t help but see!” – “What were you looking at?”

Yes, I had been looking at my Past. It was no more there. The Past had passed, that was why our hotel was not and couldn’t be in the Present. There was that hotel on the same street, of course, but no more ours, therefore, I didn’t find it. I couldn’t see it, because I tried to return to where one must not.

“Cemetery, the final stop.”

I returned to the hotel. Having entered the bathroom, I found four taps, besides the serpentine shower hose. I checked the taps, hot water started pouring from two of them, cold water – from the other two.

“It’s interesting,” I thought. “Is it so only in my hotel, or in all hotels located in cemeteries? Maybe two taps are with alive water, and two ones with dead water…”

That night I had a not at all scary, but a very exciting dream about my own… funeral in Venice. However, at the most interesting point the phone rang. It was ringing so persistently that turned out to be stronger than me.

“Alice, are you still sleeping?! In half an hour, we are waiting for you in the car. We’ll go to the exhibition together!”

As a result, I didn’t get, how I would end up in Venice, what would happen to me and who was the Man in Black to bury me, but someday I would definitely find it out, it was just a matter of time.