- The Rustling of the Morning Stars
I have no doubt, that like most people, you want to lead a comfortable and wealthy life that is free from diseases and traumas. However, it may often seem that your life de- cides otherwise and it is instead toying with you, as if you were a paper boat in stormy waters. In the pursuit of happiness, you have probably already tried many well-known methods. However, have you managed to achieve great success this way?
The theory of Transurfing talks about some very strange and unusual things. This may all be so shocking to you that you would not want to believe it. However, it will not be necessary for you to believe. You will receive all the tools you need to test the claims that are made. Having done that, your ordinary view of life will change completely.
Transurfing is a powerful method that will allow you to do the most impossible things (impossible from a normal point of view) – namely, to manage your destiny just the way you like. There will not be any miracles. Something greater is awaiting you. You will be convinced that the unknown reality is much more incredible than any magic.
Many books teach people how to become rich and happy. It is all, of course, very tempting. I mean, who would not want to be rich and happy? But when you open the book there are exercises and meditations that re- quire hard effort. It is rather depressing, really. Life is practically a test in itself, and yet they suggest you push and pull even harder, squeezing out whatever is left inside you.
They try to convince you that you are not perfect and therefore you must change. Otherwise, do not count on anything good happening to you. Now, it may be the case that you are not quite satisfied with yourself. Yet, somewhere deep inside you feel that you do not really want to change. And you are right. Do not believe anyone who says that you are not perfect. How can anybody know how you are supposed to be? You don’t have to change yourself. You are looking for the way out in all the wrong places.
We won’t be doing any exercises, medita- tions or soul digging. Transurfing is not a new self-improvement technique, but it is an entirely different way of thinking and acting so that you can get exactly what you want. Not to strive for things you want in your life but to get what you want. And not by chan- ging yourself but by returning to yourself. We all make many mistakes in life, and then we dream about how great it would be to be able to go back to our past and make everything right.
I’m not promising you “a sweet ride back to your childhood” (see note below), but mistakes can be fixed, almost as if you’ve been back to your past. Or rather “ahead to the past”. The true meaning of these words will be unveiled towards the end of this book. You couldn’t have heard or read anywhere else what I am about to tell you. Thus, be prepared for surprises that are as incredible as they are pleasant.
The Rustling of the Morning Stars
The barking of my neighbor’s dog woke me up. That vile creature is always waking me up. God, I hate the dog! Why do I have to wake up from the noises that ugly thing is making? I need to go for a walk, calm down a bit, and somehow try to suppress the intense desire to burn down my neighbor’s house. Like dog, like master. There are always bas- tards breaking into my life and trying to get to me. I’m getting dressed, upset and angry. Great, my damn slippers have disappeared again. Where the hell are you, you slick suck- ers? Wait until I find you... I’ll throw you away!
It’s wet and foggy outside. I was walking along the slippery trail, passing through the gloomy forest. Most of the leaves have already fallen off, exposing the gray trunks of the half-dead trees. Why do I live in the middle of this depressing swamp? I take out a cigarette. I don’t really want to smoke, but old habit is forcing me. Forcing me? Since when has a cigarette become a necessity for me? Yeah, it’s rather disgusting, smoking on an empty stomach in the morning. Once upon a time, when I was at a party or among friends, I liked smoking and got pleasure from it. The cigarette was then a symbol of fashion, freedom and style. But parties end. Grey and rainy everyday life takes over, with puddles full of messy problems. And each time, I smoke away these problems by light- ing up, telling myself – “OK, now I’ll have a little smoke, catch my breath, and plunge
back into this hateful routine.”
Smoke from the cigarette gets in my eyes and I cover them with my hands, like a hurt child. I am so sick and tired of all of this! And then, as if echoing my thoughts, a branch of a birch tree, bent in a particularly insidious way, hits me painfully in the face. Damn it! In a rage, I break the branch and throw it away. It hangs on the tree and then starts bobbing up and down, back and forth, like the head of a jack-in-the-box, as if demonstrating my inability to change any- thing in this world. Depressed, I drag myself further along the path.
Every time I try to fight this world it gives in, creating hope, only to flick my nose very hard later. It’s only in the movies you’ll see heroes going towards their goal, destroying all obstacles on their way. That doesn’t hap- pen in real life. Perhaps life is similar to roul- ette. Maybe you win one time, a second or even a third. Already, you see yourself as the winner, and it seems to you that the whole world is in your pocket, but in the end, you always lose. You are nothing but a Christmas goose being fattened up, so that you can be roasted and eaten to the sound of beautiful music and laughter. You have made a mistake, because this is not your party. You have made a mistake...
Wallowing in these unhappy thoughts, I come out to the sea. Little waves were vi- ciously biting at the sandy shore. The un- friendly sea was forcing a cold and wet wind on me. Fat seagulls were lazily waddling along the shore, pecking at something rotten. Their eyes had a cold and black emptiness to them. As if the world surrounding me was reflected in those eyes. A world that was just as cold and hostile.
Some bum was collecting empty bottles on the beach. Just get the hell out of here, you slob. I want to be alone. No, looks like he’s heading my way - he’s probably going to beg. I had better head off home. Not a moment of peace. God, I’m so tired. I’m always feeling tired, even when I’m resting. It is almost as if I’m doing time in prison. It seems that very soon, everything will change, a new era will begin and I will become a different person and will be able to enjoy my life. But that is all in the future. For now, I’m stuck in the same miserable sweatshop. I’m always wait- ing, but the future never comes. Now, as al- ways, I eat a tasteless breakfast and drag my- self off to my boring job, where I once again will have to squeeze out some sort of result that is needed by someone else but me. Yet another day of a burdensome and purposeless life...
I woke up from the rustling of the morning stars. What was this depressing dream? As if a fragment of my previous life returned to me. Thankfully, it was only a dream. Re- lieved, I stretch myself just like my cat does. There he is that lazy-bones, sprawled out on the bed. You can tell by the way his ears are pointing that he is aware of my presence. Get your whiskered muzzle up, and let’s go for a walk. I’ve ordered a sunny day today, and so I’m off to the sea.
The path was going through a forest, and the rustling of the morning stars gradually faded away into the multi-voiced choir of the bird community. Over there, in the bushes someone is making an extra effort trying to sing – “Food! Food!” Ah, there he is, the little good-for-nothing! How can a fluffy little bundle like you be chirping away so loudly? Incredible, it never occurred to me before that each bird has its own unique voice, and yet, not one false note is sung, and the many voices produce a wonderful melodious symphony, something a skilled orchestra could never match.
The sun stretches its rays amidst the trees. This magical illumination brings the huge depths and rich beauty of the forest to life, transforming the woods into a wonderful hologram. The path leads me gently to the sea. Emerald waves are quietly whispering, talking with the warm wind. The shore seems endless and empty, but I feel calm and comfortable, as if this overpopulated world has created a secluded little space just for me. Some people think that our surroundings are just an illusion that we ourselves create. Well, no. I’m not arrogant enough to think that all this beauty is nothing but the product of my imagination.
Still under the oppressive influence of my dream, I started to remember my former life, which in fact was just as gloomy and hope- less as the dream. Very often I’ve tried, like many others, to demand from this world what I felt it owed me. In return, the world indifferently turned its back on me. Experi- enced people told me that the world doesn’t give in that easily, you have to fight it in or- der to conquer it. Therefore, I would try do- ing that, but to no avail. I just wound up wearing myself out. However, the experi- enced people had an answer to this too - you are a bad person, so you have to change yourself and only then demand something from the world. I tried to fight myself, but it turned out to be even harder.
Then one night I had a dream: I found my- self in some kind of a nature reserve. Un- speakable beauty surrounded me, and I was walking and admiring this splendor. Then suddenly an angry old man with a gray beard appeared. As I understood, he was the Overseer of the reserve. He began to silently observe me. I moved towards him and as I opened my mouth to speak, he silenced me. His voice was cold when he told me that he doesn’t want to hear anything, that he’s tired of the cranky and greedy visitors, who were never satisfied, always demanding something, making a lot of noise and leaving piles of garbage behind. I silently nodded my head in agreement and moved on.
The magnificent nature of the preserve simply astounded me. Why haven’t I been here before? Entranced, I wandered around with no particular aim, staring in awe. No words could describe how incredibly wonderful the nature surrounding me was. Thus, I felt exalted, without a single thought in my mind.
Soon enough, the Overseer appeared again. The austere look on his face has eased. With a gesture, he asked me to follow him. We climb onto the top of a green hill, where a spectacular view of a picturesque valley opens in front of us. Down in the valley, you can see a village or a settlement of some kind. Little toy houses, overflowing with plants and flowers...it was just as a picture taken from a fairy tale. You could have stud- ied the scenery in amazement for a very long time, if only it didn’t seem so unreal. I star- ted to suspect that such things could only be experienced in dreams. I looked question- ingly at the Overseer, but he only smiled into his beard, as if he wanted to say, “You haven’t seen anything yet!”
We were walking down to the valley, when I began to realize that I couldn’t remember how I got to the reserve in the first place. I really wanted to get some kind of explanation from the old man. I think I made a silly remark about how lucky and happy the people are that can afford to live amidst this beauty. The Overseer answered, irritated “And who stops you from being one of those people?”
I replied with the same old story that not everybody is born rich, and that you cannot control your destiny. The Overseer ignored my words and said, “That’s exactly the point, every man is free to choose any destiny he likes. The only freedom we have is the free- dom to choose. Anybody can choose whatever he wants.”
His ideas were beyond my comprehension and my philosophy of life, so I wanted to ar- gue against him. But the Overseer didn’t want to hear any of it, as he said, “You fool! You have the right to choose, but you don’t use that right. You simply don’t understand what this means – to choose.” This is all in- sane, I thought. What does he mean by that I can choose anything I want? As if everything in this world was allowed! Then suddenly I understood that all was just a dream! I was puzzled, because I had no previous experience of waking up in a dream and thus, didn’t know how to act in such a strange situation.
As far as I remember, once I realized I was dreaming I hinted to the old man that in a dream, as in waking life, he can say all the nonsense he wants, and that is all there is to his freedom. But my comment didn’t seem to bother the Overseer at all - he only laughed at me. Realizing the absurdity of the situ- ation (why even bother starting a discussion with a character from my own dream?), I started thinking maybe it would be better to simply wake up. The old man probably read my mind. “Well, enough,” he said. “We don’t have a lot of time. I never thought they’d send me an idiot like you. But nonetheless, I will have to complete my mission.”
I started asking him what this “mission” was and who “they” are. He ignored my ques- tions, but gave me a riddle, which seemed silly to me at the time: “Everyone can ac- quire the freedom to choose anything they want. Here is your riddle: how do you get this freedom? If you solve the riddle, your apples will fall into the sky.”
How did apples get into this? I started to lose my patience and so, I told the old man that I had no intention of guessing any riddles. Only in dreams and fairy tales could you see all kinds of wonders, while in reality, apples always fall to the ground. To which he answered, “Enough! Let’s go, I have to show you something.”
When I woke up, I realized that sadly I could not remember what happened next in my dream. However, I had a strong feeling that the Overseer had somehow put information in my head, information that I could not ex- press with any words available to me. Only one strange word remained in my memory – Transurfing. The only thought spinning around in my head was that there was absolutely no need to furnish my world by myself – everything was created a long time ago without my participation, but for my well-be- ing. It’s also not worth struggling with the world for your place under the sun, because that’s the least effective method. Apparently, no one is keeping me from simply choosing the world I would like to live in.
At first, the idea seemed absurd to me. And most probably I would have forgotten all about this dream. But, to my great amazement, I soon discovered that I could remember specific details about what the Overseer meant by the expression to choose your own world, and how one could go about doing that. The solution to the Overseer’s Riddle came to me on its own - out of nowhere. Every day I discovered something new, and each time I got very surprised and almost a little bit afraid. I cannot explain rationally where all this knowledge came from. I can only say one thing for sure – there is no way it could have come from me.
Ever since I discovered Transurfing (or rather, ever since I was allowed to discover it), my life was filled with a new joyful mean- ing. Anyone who has ever done any creative work knows how much joy and satisfaction something made with your own hands brings you. But this is nothing compared to the pro- cess of creating your own destiny. Although, the expression “creating one’s destiny” in its ordinary meaning is a little out-of-place here. Transurfing is the method for literally choosing one’s own destiny, much like choosing an item at the supermarket. What this all really means is exactly what I want to talk to you about. You will find out why apples can “fall to the sky,” what it means to hear “the rustling of the morning stars”, and there are many other very strange things that
are only waiting for you to discover them.
This is a reference to the lyrics from a popular Russian song - “City of Childhood” (tr.)