Sensei of Shambala. Book II. Anastasia Novykh

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СКАЧАТЬ is rather distorted by people and is boosted into the whole teaching where yogis mostly waste their time and energy for learning how to control the breathing, to speed up some processes in the body, for example, to heal wounds or slow down for example the general metabolism or beats… It’s also good, of course, because this way people learn how to control their thoughts. But they knocked to pieces the whole and complicated the simple. Therefore modern people, when practicing it, see the piece and think that it’s the very whole…” and Sensei added addressing himself again directly to Eugene, “So if you want just to hold your breath, you may use this practice as well. The choice is wide. The technique of breath-holding in the alternating consciousness was known to people from the time immemorial. This practice can be found everywhere: in Tropical Africa, in Northern America, in Lapland, on the Bali island. I don’t even mention those techniques which are inherited from one generation to another by people who live on sea fruits, for example pearl hunters.

      Eugene pondered for a while and started to debate aloud.

      “Well, tell me how long can someone stand under water without air? A maximum of two minutes, and only if it’s a professional diver. I mean, without aqualung,” the guy specified.

      “He’s right,” Nikolai Andreevich agreed. “Then it comes to anoxia, simply to say, to the lack of oxygen which leads to irreversible processes in the substance of the brain. A man loses consciousness…”

      “And that’s all folks, alles kaput,” Eugene finished the sentence supporting his ‘companion’.

      However, Sensei objected, “In alternating consciousness even a not trained person is able to stay much longer than any professional diver.”

      “Well, Sensei, don’t tell us stories,” the guy didn’t believe.

      “Let’s bet on it?” Sensei proposed immediately with a mysterious smile.

      “With you, Sensei? Not at any price,” Eugene waved away at once under the general laughter of the guys. “Am I a self-murderer? I know anyway that I won’t stay under water so long as you.”

      “No, I don’t count myself,” Sensei calmed him. “Let’s take anybody from this gang, chose yourself.”

      “You say, it’s my choice?” Eugene smiled archly and started to ‘drill’ us with his eyes. This very moment, as bad luck would have it, the grip of my plastic sachet was torn by pure accident.

      “Oh,” my person uttered with confusion and started to collect quickly fishing tackle and some other things from the sand.

      Andrew and Volodya who were walking close to me, began to help me. Eugene drew his attention to the ‘object’ of his winning choice and declared self-satisfied, “Let’s take her for example.”

      “Alright,” Sensei agreed. “Do you mind?” He asked me.

      I was so naпve to take it just for a funny joke and decided to back Sensei. I declared in the same self-satisfied manner as Eugene, “Of course, I agree. What’s the problem? I’m a hereditary diver of the seventh generation. Do you know how Siberians dive? Oh! They dive in the mountains of Altai and come to the surface in Kara Sea!

      “Do they come to the surface or float on the surface drowned?” – Eugene specified with a malicious smile.

      “It depends on your luck,” I answered.

      Our dialogue made all the guys laugh.

      “Well, well,” Eugene rubbed his hands anticipating his victory. “And what will be the prize of our bet?”

      “Choose by your own!” Sensei answered merrily.

      “Then.., then,” the guy was confused.

      “One day on duty in the camp,” Stas gave him a hint as it was their turn to do it.

      “Right you are,” Eugene expressed his consent. “One day on duty in the camp! That is to say all those things like tidying-up-with-a-broom, washing-dishes, making-fire and all other small and boring routine things in the camp.”

      “Alright,” Sensei said. “As soon as we arrive to the camp, we’ll start the competition.”

      They shook hands with each other and Volodya agreed to be a referee of the bet. We continued our way.

      Eugene was so inspired by his obvious advantage that he began to ‘psychologically influence’ his opponent, preparing me to the cleaning procedures and explaining in details what I had to do.

      “Maybe I should also clean the dust on rush?” I suggested to him, laughing and keeping up this fun.

      “No, well, don’t trouble yourself!” satisfied Eugene started to treat me with kind gloves. “We are gentlemen. Let’s not go beyond the camp chaos.” And he added at once, “However, if madam has a desire, she can not only clean the dust from rush. She can wipe that small puddle.”

      Eugene pointed out to the sea and everybody burst out laughing again. This way we were going to the shelters all the time exchanging ‘mutual compliments and concessions’ with him under the roar of other guys.

      4

      Already from afar we have seen that our camp looked somehow unusual, as if it were covered with a white moving spot. Of course, we tried to keep order but everything was too white… Coming closer we have observed the true ‘banquet’ of seagulls. Our sudden appearance scared these thieves and they were in panic. Breaking away from their rich meal, they flew up as if on command and so to say made sail leaving us piles of leftovers. Our group was in stupor from such a barefaced impudence.

      You should have seen this scene. Everywhere lay about in disorder plastic torn paper bags with cereals, macaroni, what is more, thoroughly mixed with the sand. So to say, sand-cereals-macaroni foundament mixed with droppings of birds, with small hills of poured out flour, salt, sugar. And all this morning disaster was supplemented by open work tissue papers whirling by the wind, like in a play, on the whole shore. And if to take into account our previous bet, my person for example lost its wits and I, so to say, ‘lost heart’.

      In a minute of deathly silence during which some with surprise and others with fear were observing this nice landscape named a ‘landfill’, Eugene scratched his head and threw to Andrew with triumph, “Well, well. Is it called ‘not a living soul’?!”

      Andrew hurried on to counter, “Right, but for your lonely maniac!”

      “The fact is that he was not lonely,” Victor remarked in jest examining the multiple remnants of the devastation. “And judging by traces left this ‘leader’ was more likely a representative of the local fauna and had four paws and even maybe a tail. Obviously he was the first in our food shelter.”

      “Right,” Eugene stood up for the unknown animal. “He ate too much there. He was bored and invited all he could to this party.”

      “Nice party,” Stas hemmed. “Who will clean up all of this for them?”

      “Make a guess with one try,” Eugene proposed to him with a smile and looked satisfied towards me.

      Then as if it suddenly came to his mind he started to look actively for our improvised broom made from branches bound together. It happened to be ‘half-dug’ in the sand. Eugene raised it, shook it down, pretended having blown away the last specks of dust and handed it СКАЧАТЬ