All I could do is to call mom on a Saturday and sit with her, for the hundredth time answering her questions. I was not mad or impatient, I said to her in my mind: whatever happens happens but I am not letting you go.
In the dream, standing on the shore and looking at the waves in a daze, I felt how it acted on me. It changed me, elevating me to heaven in a rush of great joy. It freed me from the bondage of my personality. All the details of my present life, with all its problems and worries, dreams and hopes, suddenly turned out to be complete nonsense in comparison with what was blowing in from the sea. The sea gave me boundless beauty, boundless freedom and love.
…In the dream I saw an old car, it was green and looked like the first version of the Russian Zaporozhets or a Western Volkswagen Beetle. It was parked in the middle of nowhere on a pitch black night. There were only two dim street lights that helped to see what was going on. Next to the green car there stood an 18th century guy in a powdered wig wearing a yellow frock coat, white silk necktie and a lace shirt.
I was very worried about the moon in the dream. And when I woke up I was still worried. I also had a vague feeling that the story in the dream was not new. Something like that already happened somewhere and maybe not once.
And maybe, in fact, there is no daily world, or rather, the daily world is just a mirage, and behind it, if you look closely, there is always looming this dumb dialogue between you, always frightened, always hoping, and Eternity, who so terribly reminds you of its true nature on a stormy night.
This poem accurately describes the state of my spirit after the out-of-body experience. Total disillusionment of a tender heart. Awareness of life as a painted veil behind which just shadows lurk in the distance. And the truth – so fragile and so unconvincing.
The planets were descending very softly as if stroking the buildings, the trees and the ground. I was so thrilled by that vision and had an irresistible desire to touch a planet. And I did, and the planet I touched was real. I was inside a fairy-tale and that fairy-tale was the most real thing I ever experienced.
It was my very first encounter with God. No less, no more. He was there in the morgue on that day with me revealing his first big secret: the body was his design but it was just a body that would eventually rot and disappear. That humans should be aware of the gift of the body while they have it but should not be attached to it thinking that it’s all there is. It is not.
That experience was an initiation into a mystery. I could not share it with anyone because the Zeitgeist was not ready. People either didn’t listen or didn’t believe me. I can say that for many years I lived with the feeling that I knew something important, but I couldn’t share it with anyone. But the day has finally come.