Cine este Dumnezeu ?

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Insula Tonalului.docCarlos_Castaneda_-_04_-_Tales_of_Power.pdf


Cine este Dumnezeu ?
Mare ca Dumnezeul nostru.
Tu esti Dumnezeu,
Carele faci minuni.
(Psalm 76,13-14)



Cine este Dumnezeu
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Din volumul "Povestiri despre Putere = Tales of Power" al lui Carlos Castaneda, capitolul "Tonalul si Nagualul", subcapitolul "Insula Tonalului = The island of the tonal":

5. The Island of The Tonal
Don Juan and I met again the next day at the same park around noon. He was still wearing his
brown suit. We sat on a bench; he took off his coat, folded it very carefully, but with an air of
supreme casualness, and laid it on the bench. His casualness was very studied and yet it was
completely natural. I caught myself staring at him. He seemed to be aware of the paradox he was
presenting to me and smiled. He straightened his necktie. He had on a beige long-sleeved shirt. It
fitted him very well.
"I still have on my suit because I want to tell you something of great importance," he said,
patting me on the shoulder. "You had a good performance yesterday. Now it is time to come to
some final agreements."
He paused for a long-moment. He seemed to be preparing a statement. I had a strange feeling
in my stomach. My immediate assumption was that he was going to tell me the sorcerers'
explanation. He stood up a couple of times and paced back and forth in front of me, as if it were
difficult to voice what he had in mind.
"Let's go to the restaurant across the street and have a bite to eat," he finally said.
He unfolded his coat, and before he put it on he showed me that it was fully lined.
"It is made to order," he said and smiled as if he were proud of it, as if it mattered.
"I have to call your attention to it, or you wouldn't notice it, and it is very important that you
are aware of it. You are aware of everything only when you think you should be; the condition of
a warrior, however, is to be aware of everything at all times.
"My suit and all this paraphernalia is important because it represents my condition in life. Or
rather, the condition of one of the two parts of my totality. This discussion has been pending. I
feel that now is the time to have it. It has to be done properly, though, or it will never make sense.
I wanted my suit to give you the first clue. I think it has. Now is the time to talk, for in matters of
this topic there is no complete understanding without talking."
"What is the topic, don Juan?"
"The totality of oneself," he said.
He stood up abruptly and led me to a restaurant in a large hotel across the street. A hostess
with a rather unfriendly disposition gave us a table inside in a back corner. Obviously the choice
places were around the windows.
I told don Juan that the woman reminded me of another hostess in a restaurant in Arizona
where don Juan and I had once gone to eat, who had asked us, before she handed out the menu, if
we had enough money to pay.
"I don't blame this poor woman either," don Juan said, as if sympathizing with her. "She too,
like the other one, is afraid of Mexicans."
He laughed softly. A couple of people at the adjacent tables turned their heads around and
looked at us.
Don Juan said that without knowing, or perhaps even in spite of herself, the hostess had given
us the best table in the house, a table where we could talk and I could write to my heart's content.
I had just taken my writing pad out of my pocket and put it on the table when the waiter
suddenly loomed over us. He also seemed to be in a bad mood. He stood over us with a
challenging air.
Don Juan proceeded to order a very elaborate meal for himself. He ordered without looking at
the menu, as if he knew it by heart. I was at a loss; the waiter had appeared unexpectedly and I
had not had time to read the menu, so I told him that I would have the same.
Don Juan whispered in my ear, "I bet you that they don't have what I've ordered."
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He stretched his arms and legs and told me to relax and sit comfortably because the meal was
going to take forever to be prepared.
"You are at a very poignant crossroad," he said. "Perhaps the last one, and also perhaps the
most difficult one to understand. Some of the things I am going to point out to you today will
probably never be clear. They are not supposed to be clear anyway. So don't be embarrassed or
discouraged. All of us are dumb creatures when we join the world of sorcery, and to join it
doesn't in any sense insure us that we will change. Some of us remain dumb until the very end."
I liked it when he included himself among the idiots. I knew that he did not do it out of
kindness, but as a didactic device.
"Don't fret if you don't make sense out of what I'm going to tell you," he continued.
"Considering your temperament, I'm afraid that you might knock yourself out trying to
understand. Don't! What I'm about to say is meant only to point out a direction."
I had a sudden feeling of apprehension. Don Juan's admonitions forced me into an endless
speculation. He had warned me on other occasions, in very much the same fashion, and every
time he had done so, what he was warning me about had turned out to be a devastating issue.
"It makes me very nervous when you talk to me this way," I said.
"I know it," he replied calmly. "I'm deliberately trying to get you on your toes. I need your
attention, your undivided attention."
He paused and looked at me, I laughed nervously and involuntarily. I knew that he was
stretching the dramatic possibilities of the situation as far as he could.
"I'm not telling you all this for effect," he said, as if he had read my thoughts. "I am simply
giving you time to make the proper adjustments."
At that moment the waiter stopped at our table to announce that they did not have what we had
ordered. Don Juan laughed out loud and ordered tortillas and beans. The waiter chuckled
scornfully and said that they did not serve them and suggested steak or chicken. We settled for
some soup.
We ate in silence. I did not like the soup and could not finish it, but don Juan ate all of his.
"I have put on my suit," he said all of a sudden, "in order to tell you about something,
something you already know but which needs to be clarified if it is going to be effective. I have
waited until now, because Genaro feels that you have to be not only willing to undertake the road
of knowledge, but your efforts by themselves must be impeccable enough to make you worthy of
that knowledge. You have done well. Now I will tell you the sorcerers' explanation."
He paused again, rubbed his cheeks and played with his tongue inside his mouth, as if he
were feeling his teeth.
"I'm going to tell you about the tonal and the nagual" he said and looked at me piercingly.
This was the first time in our association that he had used those two terms. I was vaguely
familiar with them through the anthropological literature on the cultures of central Mexico. I
knew that the "tonal" (pronounced, toh-na'hl) was thought to be a kind of guardian spirit, usually
an animal, that a child obtained at birth and with which he had intimate ties for the rest of his life.
"Nagual" (pronounced, nah-wa'hl) was the name given to the animal into which sorcerers could
allegedly transform themselves, or to the sorcerer that elicited such a transformation.
"This is my tonal" don Juan said, rubbing his hands on his chest.
"Your suit?"
"No. My person."
He pounded his chest and his thighs and the side of his ribs.
"My tonal is all this."
He explained that every human being had two sides, two separate entities, two counterparts
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which became operative at the moment of birth; one was called the "tonal" and the other the
"nagual."
I told him what anthropologists knew about the two concepts. He let me speak without
interrupting me.
"Well, whatever you may think you know about them is pure nonsense," he said. "I base this
statement on the fact that whatever I'm telling you about the tonal and the nagual could not
possibly have been told to you before. Any idiot would know that you know nothing about them,
because in order to be acquainted with them, you would have to be a sorcerer and you aren't. Or
you would've had to talk about them with a sorcerer and you haven't. So disregard everything
you've heard before, because it is inapplicable."
"It was only a comment," I said.
He raised his brows in a comical gesture.
"Your comments are out of order," he said. "This time I need your undivided attention, since I
am going to acquaint you with the tonal and the nagual. Sorcerers have a special and unique
interest in that knowledge. I would say that the tonal and the nagual are in the exclusive realm of
men of knowledge. In your case, this is the lid that closes everything I have taught you. Thus, I
have waited until now to talk about them.
"The tonal is not an animal that guards a person. I would rather say that it is a guardian that
could be represented as an animal. But that is not the important point."
He smiled and winked at me.
"I'm using your own words now," he said. "The tonal is the social person."
He laughed, I supposed, at the sight of my bewilderment.
"The tonal is, rightfully so, a protector, a guardian - a guardian that most of the time turns into
a guard."
I fumbled with my notebook. I was trying to pay attention to what he was saying. He laughed
and mimicked my nervous movements.
"The tonal is the organizer of the world," he proceeded. "Perhaps the best way of describing
its monumental work is to say that on its shoulders rests the task of setting the chaos of the world
in order. It is not farfetched to maintain, as sorcerers do, that everything we know and do as men
is the work of the tonal.
"At this moment, for instance, what is engaged in trying to make sense out of our conversation
is your tonal; without it there would be only weird sounds and grimaces and you wouldn't
understand a thing of what I'm saying.
"I would say then that the tonal is a guardian that protects something priceless, our very being.
Therefore, an inherent quality of the tonal is to be cagey and jealous of its doings. And since its
doings are by far the most important part of our lives, it is no wonder that it eventually changes,
in every one of us, from a guardian into a guard."
He stopped and asked me if I had understood. I automatically nodded my head affirmatively
and he smiled with an air of incredulity.
"A guardian is broad-minded and understanding," he explained. "A guard, on the other hand,
is a vigilante, narrow-minded and most of the time despotic. I say, then, that the tonal in all of us
has been made into a petty and despotic guard when it should be a broad-minded guardian."
I definitely was not following the trend of his explanation. I heard and wrote down every word
and yet I seemed to be stuck with some internal dialogue of my own.
"It is very hard for me to follow your point," I said.
"If you didn't get hooked on talking to yourself you would have no quarrels," he said cuttingly.
His remark threw me into a long explanatory statement. I finally caught myself and apologized
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for my insistence on defending myself.
He smiled and made a gesture that seemed to indicate that my attitude had not really annoyed
him.
"The tonal is everything we are," he proceeded. "Name it! Anything we have a word for is the
tonal. And since the tonal is its own doings, then everything, obviously, has to fall under its
domain."
I reminded him that he had said that the tonal was the social person, a term which I myself had
used with him to mean a human being as the end result of socialization processes. I pointed out
that if the tonal was that product, it could not be everything, as he had said, because the world
around us was not the product of socialization.
Don Juan reminded me that my argument had no basis for him, and that, long before, he had
already made the point that there was no world at large but only a description of the world which
we had learned to visualize and take for granted.
"The tonal is everything we know," he said. "I think this in itself is enough reason for the
tonal to be such an overpowering affair."
He paused for a moment. He seemed to be definitely waiting for comments or questions, but I
had none. Yet I felt obligated to voice a question and struggled to formulate an appropriate one. I
failed. I felt that the admonitions with which he had opened our conversation had perhaps served
as a deterrent to any inquiry on my part. I felt strangely numb. I could not concentrate and order
my thoughts. In fact I felt and knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that I was incapable of
thinking and yet I knew this without thinking, if that were at all possible.
I looked at don Juan. He was staring at the middle part of my body. He lifted his eyes and my
clarity of mind returned instantly.
"The tonal is everything we know," he repeated slowly. "And that includes not only us, as
persons, but everything in our world. It can be said that the tonal is everything that meets the eye.
"We begin to groom it at the moment of birth. The moment we take the first gasp of air we
also breathe in power for the tonal. So, it is proper to say that the tonal of a human being is
intimately tied to his birth.
"You must remember this point. It is of great importance in understanding all this. The tonal
begins at birth and ends at death."
I wanted to recapitulate all the points that he had made. I went as far as opening my mouth to
ask him to repeat the salient points of our conversation, but to my amazement I could not vocalize
my words. I was experiencing a most curious incapacity, my words were heavy and I had no
control over that sensation.
I looked at don Juan to signal him that I could not talk. He was again staring at the area
around my stomach.
He lifted his eyes and asked me how I felt. Words poured out of me as if I had been
unplugged. I told him that I had been having the peculiar sensation of not being able to talk or
think and yet my thoughts had been crystal clear.
"Your thoughts have been crystal clear?" he asked.
I realized then that the clarity had not pertained to my thoughts, but to my perception of the
world.
"Are you doing something to me, don Juan?" I asked.
"I am trying to convince you that your comments are not necessary," he said and laughed.
"You mean you don't want me to ask questions?"
"No, no. Ask anything you want, but don't let your attention waver."
I had to admit that I had been distracted by the immensity of the topic.
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"I still cannot understand, don Juan, what you mean by the statement that the tonal is
everything," I said after a moment's pause.
"The tonal is what makes the world."
"Is the tonal the creator of the world?"
Don Juan scratched his temples.
"The tonal makes the world only in a manner of speaking. It can not create or change
anything, and yet it makes the world because its function is to judge, and assess, and witness. I
say that the tonal makes the world because it witnesses and assesses it according to tonal rules. In
a very strange manner the tonal is a creator that doesn't create a thing. In other words, the tonal
makes up the rules by which it apprehends the world. So, in a manner of speaking, it creates the
world."
He hummed a popular tune, beating the rhythm with his fingers on the side of his chair. His
eyes were shining; they seemed to sparkle. He chuckled, shaking his head.
"You're not following me," he said, smiling.
"I am. I have no problems," I said, but I did not sound very convincing.
"The tonal is an island," he explained. "The best way of describing it is to say that the tonal is
this."
He ran his hand over the table top.
"We can say that the tonal is like the top of this table. An island. And on this island we have
everything. This island is, in fact, the world.
"There is a personal tonal for every one of us, and there is a collective one for all of us at any
given time, which we can call the tonal of the times."
He pointed to the rows of tables in the restaurant.
"Look! Every table has the same configuration. Certain items are present on all of them. They
are, however, individually different from each other; some tables are more crowded than others;
they have different food on them, different plates, different atmosphere, yet we have to admit that
all the tables in this restaurant are very alike. The same thing happens with the tonal. We can say
that the tonal of the times is what makes us alike, in the same way it makes all the tables in this
restaurant alike. Each table separately, nevertheless, is an individual case, just like the personal
tonal of each of us. But the important factor to keep in mind is that everything we know about
ourselves and about our world is on the island of the tonal. See what I mean?"
"If the tonal is everything we know about ourselves and our world, what, then, is the nagual?"
"The nagual is the part of us which we do not deal with at all."
"I beg your pardon?"
"The nagual is the part of us for which there is no description - no words, no names, no
feelings, no knowledge."
"That's a contradiction, don Juan. In my opinion if it can't be felt or described or named, it
cannot exist."
"It's a contradiction only in your opinion. I warned you before, don't knock yourself out trying
to understand this."
"Would you say that the nagual is the mind?"
"No. The mind is an item on the table. The mind is part of the tonal. Let's say that the mind is
the chili sauce."
He took a bottle of sauce and placed it in front of me.
"Is the nagual the soul?"
"No. The soul is also on the table. Let's say that the soul is the ashtray."
"Is it the thoughts of men?"
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"No. Thoughts are also on the table. Thoughts are like the silverware."
He picked up a fork and placed it next to the chili sauce and the ashtray.
"Is it a state of grace? Heaven?"
"Not that either. That, whatever it might be, is also part of the tonal. It is, let's say, the
napkin."
I went on giving possible ways of describing what he was alluding to: pure intellect, psyche,
energy, vital force, immortality, life principle. For each thing I named he found an item on the
table to serve as a counterpart and shoved it in front of me, until he had all the objects on the table
stashed in one pile.
Don Juan seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He giggled and rubbed his hands every
time I named another possibility.
"Is the nagual the Supreme Being, the Almighty, God?" I asked.
"No. God is also on the table. Let's say that God is the tablecloth."
He made a joking gesture of pulling the tablecloth in order to stack it up with the rest of the
items he had put in front of me.
"But, are you saying that God does not exist?"
"No. I didn't say that. All I said was that the nagual was not God, because God is an item of
our personal tonal and of the tonal of the times. The tonal is, as I've already said, everything we
think the world is composed of, including God, of course. God has no more importance other than
being a part of the tonal of our time."
"In my understanding, don Juan, God is everything. Aren't we talking about the same thing?"
"No. God is only everything you can think of, therefore, properly speaking, he is only another
item on the island. God cannot be witnessed at will, he can only be talked about. The nagual, on
the other hand, is at the service of the warrior. It can be witnessed, but it cannot be talked about."
"If the nagual is not any of the things I have mentioned," I said, "perhaps you can tell me
about its location. Where is it?"
Don Juan made a sweeping gesture and pointed to the area beyond the boundaries of the table.
He swept his hand, as if with the back of it he were cleaning an imaginary surface that went
beyond the edges of the table.
"The nagual is there," he said. "There, surrounding the island. The nagual is there, where
power hovers.
"We sense, from the moment we are born, that there are two parts to us. At the time of birth,
and for a while after, we are all nagual. We sense, then, that in order to function we need a
counterpart to what we have. The tonal is missing and that gives us, from the very beginning, a
feeling of incompleteness. Then the tonal starts to develop and it becomes utterly important to
our functioning, so important that it opaques the shine of the nagual, it overwhelms it. From the
moment we become all tonal we do nothing else but to increment that old feeling of
incompleteness which accompanies us from the moment of our birth, and which tells us
constantly that there is another part to give us completeness.
"From the moment we become all tonal we begin making pairs. We sense our two sides, but
we always represent them with items of the tonal. We say that the two parts of us are the soul and
the body. Or mind and matter. Or good and evil. God and Satan. We never realize, however, that
we are merely pairing things on the island, very much like pairing coffee and tea, or bread and
tortillas, or chili and mustard. I tell you, we are weird animals. We get carried away and in our
madness we believe ourselves to be making perfect sense."
Don Juan stood up and addressed me as if he were an orator. He pointed his index finger at me
and made his head shiver.
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"Man doesn't move between good and evil," he said in a hilariously rhetorical tone, grabbing
the salt and pepper shakers in both hands. "His true movement is between negativeness and
positiveness."
He dropped the salt and pepper and clutched a knife and fork.
"You're wrong! There is no movement," he continued as if he were answering himself. "Man
is only mind!"
He took the bottle of sauce and held it up. Then he put it down.
"As you can see," he said softly, "we can easily replace chili sauce for mind and end up
saying, 'Man is only chili sauce!' Doing that won't make us more demented than we already are."
"I'm afraid I haven't asked the right question," I said. "Maybe we could arrive at a better
understanding if I asked what one can specifically find in that area beyond the island?"
"There is no way of answering that. If I would say, Nothing, I would only make the nagual
part of the tonal. All I can say is that there, beyond the island, one finds the nagual"
"But, when you call it the nagual, aren't you also placing it on the island?"
"No. I named it only because I wanted to make you aware of it."
"All right! But becoming aware of it is the step that has turned the nagual into a new item of
my tonal"
"I'm afraid you do not understand. I have named the tonal and the nagual as a true pair. That
is all I have done."
He reminded me that once, while trying to explain to him my insistence on meaning, I had
discussed the idea that children might not be capable of comprehending the difference between
"father" and "mother" until they were quite developed in terms of handling meaning, and that
they would perhaps believe that it might be that "father" wears pants and "mother" skirts, or other
differences dealing with hairstyle, or size of body, or items of clothing.
"We certainly do the same thing with the two parts of us," he said. "We sense that there is
another side to us. But when we try to pin down that other side the tonal gets hold of the baton,
and as a director it is quite petty and jealous. It dazzles us with its cunningness and forces us to
obliterate the slightest inkling of the other part of the true pair, the nagual"
As we left the restaurant I told don Juan that he had been correct in warning me about the
difficulty of the topic, and that my intellectual prowess was inadequate to grasp his concepts and
explanations. I suggested that perhaps if I should go to my hotel and read my notes, my
comprehension of the subject might improve. He tried to put me at ease; he said that I was
worrying about words. While he was speaking I experienced a shiver, and for an instant I sensed
that there was indeed another area within me.
I mentioned to don Juan that I was having some inexplicable feelings. My statement
apparently aroused his curiosity. I told him that I had had the same feelings before, and that they
seemed to be momentary lapses, interruptions in my flow of awareness. They always manifested
themselves as a jolt in my body followed by the sensation that I was suspended in something.
We headed for downtown, walking leisurely. Don Juan asked me to relate all the details of
my lapses, I had a hard time describing them, beyond the point of calling them moments of
forgetfulness, or absent-mindedness, or not watching what I was doing.
He patiently rebuffed me. He pointed out that I was a demanding person, had an excellent
memory, and was very careful in my actions. It had occurred to me at first that those peculiar
lapses were associated with stopping the internal dialogue, but I also had had them when I had
talked to myself extensively. They seemed to stem from an area independent of everything I
knew.
Don Juan patted me on the back. He smiled with apparent delight.
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"You're finally beginning to make real connections," he said.
I asked him to explain his cryptic statement, but he abruptly stopped our conversation and
signaled me to follow him to a small park in front of a church.
"This is the end of our journey to downtown," he said and sat down on a bench. "Right here
we have an ideal spot to watch people. There are some who walk by on the street and others who
come to church. From here we can see everyone."
He pointed to a wide business street and to the gravel walk leading to the steps of the church.
Our bench was located midway between the church and the street.
"This is my very favorite bench," he said, caressing the wood.
He winked at me and added with a grin, "It likes me. That's why no one was sitting on it. It
knew I was coming."
"The bench knew that?"
"No! Not the bench. My nagual."
"Does the nagual have consciousness? Is it aware of things?"
"Of course. It is aware of everything. That's why I'm interested in your account. What you call
lapses and feelings is the nagual. In order to talk about it we must borrow from the island of the
tonal, therefore it is more convenient not to explain it but to simply recount its effects."
I wanted to say something else about those peculiar feelings, but he hushed me.
"No more. Today is not the day of the nagual, today is the day of the tonal" he said. "I put on
my suit because today I am all tonal."
He stared at me. I was about to tell him that the subject was proving to be more difficult than
anything he had ever explained to me; he seemed to have anticipated my words.
"It is difficult," he continued. "I know it. But considering that this is the final lid, the last stage
of what I've been teaching you, it is not too farfetched to say that it envelops everything I
mentioned since the first day we met."
We remained quiet for a long while. I felt that I had to wait for him to resume his explanation,
but I had a sudden attack of apprehension and hurriedly asked, "Are the nagual and the tonal
within ourselves?"
He looked at me piercingly.
"Very difficult question," he said. "You yourself would say that they are within ourselves. I
myself would say that they are not, but neither of us would be right. The tonal of your time calls
for you to maintain that everything dealing with your feelings and thoughts takes place within
yourself. The sorcerers' tonal says the opposite, everything is outside. Who's right? No one.
Inside, outside, it doesn't really matter."
I raised a point. I said that when he talked about the tonal and the nagual it sounded as if
there was still a third part. He had said that the tonal "forces us" to perform acts. I asked him to
tell me who he was referring to as being forced.
He did not answer me directly.
"To explain all this is not that simple," he said. "No matter how clever the checkpoints of the
tonal are the fact of the matter is that the nagual surfaces. Its coming to the surface is always
inadvertent, though. The tonal's great art is to suppress any manifestation of the nagual in such a
manner that even if its presence should be the most obvious thing in the world, it is unnoticeable."
"For whom is it unnoticeable?"
He chuckled, shaking his head up and down. I pressed him for an answer.
"For the tonal" he said. "I'm speaking about it exclusively. I may go around in circles but that
shouldn't surprise or annoy you. I warned you about the difficulty of understanding what I have to
tell. I went through all that rigamarole because my tonal is aware that it is speaking about itself.
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In other words, my tonal is using itself in order to understand the information I want your tonal to
be clear about. Let's say that the tonal, since it is keenly aware of how taxing it is to speak of
itself, has created the terms 'I,' 'myself,' and so forth as a balance and thanks to them it can talk
with other tonals, or with itself, about itself.
"Now when I say that the tonal forces us to do something, I don't mean that there is a third
party there. Obviously it forces itself to follow its own judgments.
"On certain occasions, however, or under certain special circumstances, something in the
tonal itself becomes aware that there is more to us. It is like a voice that comes from the depths,
the voice of the nagual. You see, the totality of ourselves is a natural condition which the tonal
cannot obliterate altogether, and there are moments, especially in the life of a warrior, when the
totality becomes apparent. At those moments one can surmise and assess what we really are.
"I was concerned with those jolts you have had, because that is the way the nagual surfaces.
At those moments the tonal becomes aware of the totality of oneself. It is always a jolt because
that awareness disrupts the lull. I call that awareness the totality of the being that is going to die.
The idea is that at the moment of death the other member of the true pair, the nagual, becomes
fully operative and the awareness and memories and perceptions stored in our calves and thighs,
in our back and shoulders and neck, begin to expand and disintegrate. Like the beads of an
endless broken necklace, they fall asunder without the binding force of life."
He looked at me. His eyes were peaceful. I felt ill at ease, stupid.
"The totality of ourselves is a very tacky affair," he said. "We need only a very small portion
of it to fulfill the most complex tasks of life. Yet when we die, we die with the totality of
ourselves. A sorcerer asks the question, 'If we're going to die with the totality of ourselves, why
not, then, live with that totality?' "
He signaled me with his head to watch the scores of people that went by.
"They're all tonal" he said. "I am going to single some of them out so your tonal will assess
them, and in assessing them it will assess itself."
He directed my attention to two old ladies that had emerged from the church. They stood at
the top of the limestone steps for a moment and then began to walk down with infinite care,
resting on every step.
"Watch those two women very carefully," he said. "But don't see them as persons, or as faces
that hold things in common with us; see them as tonals"
The two women got to the bottom of the steps. They moved as if the rough gravel were
marbles and they were about to roll and lose their balance on them. They walked arm in arm,
propping each other up with the weight of their bodies.
"Look at them!" don Juan said in a low voice. "Those women are the best example of the most
miserable tonal one can find."
I noticed that the two women were small-boned but fat. They were perhaps in their early
fifties. They had a painful look in their faces, as if walking down the church steps had been
beyond their strength.
They were in front of us; they vacillated for a moment and then they came to a halt. There was
one more step on the gravel walk.
"Watch your step, ladies," don Juan shouted as he stood up dramatically.
The women looked at him, apparently confused by his sudden outburst.
"My mom broke her hip right there the other day," he added and dashed over to help them.
They thanked him profusely and he advised them that if they ever lost their balance and fell
down, they had to remain motionless on the spot until the ambulance came. His tone was sincere
and convincing. The women crossed themselves.
75
Don Juan sat down again. His eyes were beaming. He spoke softly.
"Those women are not that old and their bodies are not that weak, and yet they are decrepit.
Everything about them is dreary - their clothes, their smell, their attitude. Why do you think that's
so?"
"Maybe they were born that way," I said.
"No one is born that way. We make ourselves that way. The tonal of those women is weak and
timid.
"I said that today was going to be the day of the tonal; I meant that today I want to deal with it
exclusively. I also said that I had put on my suit for that specific purpose. With it I wanted to
show you that a warrior treats his tonal in a very special manner. I've pointed out to you that my
suit has been made to order and that everything I have on today fits me to perfection. It is not my
vanity that I wanted to show, but my warrior's spirit, my warrior's tonal.
"Those two women gave you your first view of the tonal today. Life can be as merciless with
you as it is with them, if you are careless with your tonal. I put myself as the counterpoint. If you
understand correctly I should not need to stress this point."
I had a sudden attack of uncertainty and asked him to spell out what I should have understood.
I must have sounded desperate. He laughed out loud.
"Look at that young man in green pants and a pink shirt," don Juan whispered, pointing to a
very thin and very dark complexioned, sharp-featured young man who was standing almost in
front of us.
He seemed to be undecided whether to go towards the church or towards the street. Twice he
raised his hand in the direction of the church as though he were talking to himself and were about
to start moving towards it. Then he stared at me with a blank expression.
"Look at the way he's dressed," don Juan said in a whisper. "Look at those shoes!"
The young man's clothes were tattered and wrinkled, and his shoes were in absolute pieces.
"He's obviously very poor," I said.
"Is that all you can say about him?" he asked.
I enumerated a series of reasons that might have accounted for the young man's shabbiness:
poor health, bad luck, indolence, indifference to his personal appearance, or the chance that he
may have just been released from prison.
Don Juan said that I was merely speculating, and that he was not interested in justifying
anything by suggesting that the man was a victim of unconquerable forces.
"Maybe he's a secret agent made to look like a bum," I said jokingly.
The young man walked away towards the street with a disjointed gait.
"He's not made to look like a bum; he is a bum," don Juan said. "Look how weak his body is.
His arms and legs are thin. He can hardly walk. No one can pretend to look that way. There is
something definitely wrong with him, not his circumstances, though. I have to stress again that I
want you to see that man as a tonal"
"What does it entail to see a man as a tonal?"
"It entails to cease judging him in a moral sense, or excusing him on the grounds that he is like
a leaf at the mercy of the wind. In other words, it entails seeing a man without thinking that he is
hopeless or helpless.
"You know exactly what I am talking about. You can assess that young man without
condemning or forgiving him."
“He drinks too much," I said.
My statement was not volitional. I just made it without really knowing why. For an instant I
even felt that someone standing behind me had voiced the words, I was moved to explain that my
statement was another of my speculations.
76
"That was not the case," don Juan said. "Your tone of voice had a certainty that you lacked
before. You didn't say, 'Maybe he's a drunkard.'"
I felt embarrassed although I could not exactly determine why. Don Juan laughed.
"You saw through the man," he said. "That was seeing. Seeing is like that. Statements are
made with great certainty, and one doesn't know how it happened.
"You know that young man's tonal was shot, but you don't know how you know it."
I had to admit that somehow I had had that impression.
"You're right," don Juan said. "It doesn't really matter that he's young, he's as decrepit as the
two women. Youth is in no way a barrier against the deterioration of the tonal.
"You thought that there might be a great many reasons for that man's condition. I find that
there is only one, his tonal. It is not that his tonal is weak because he drinks; it is the other way
around, he drinks because his tonal is weak. That weakness forces him to be what he is. But the
same thing happens to all of us, in one form or another."
"But aren't you also justifying his behavior by saying that it's his tonal?"
"I'm giving you an explanation that you have never encountered before. It is not a justification
or a condemnation, though. That young man's tonal is weak and timid. And yet he's not unique.
All of us are more or less in the same boat."
At that moment a very large man passed in front of us heading towards the church. He was
wearing an expensive dark gray business suit and was carrying a briefcase. The collar of his shirt
was unbuttoned and his necktie loose. He was sweating profusely. He had a very light
complexion which made the perspiration all the more obvious.
"Watch him!" don Juan ordered me.
The man's steps were small but heavy. There was a wobbling quality to his walking. He did
not go up to the church; he circumvented it and disappeared behind it.
"There is no need to treat the body in such an awful manner," don Juan said with a note of
scorn. "But the sad fact is that all of us have learned to perfection how to make our tonal weak. I
have called that indulging."
He put his hand on my notebook and did not let me write any more. His rationale was that as
long as I kept on taking notes I was incapable of concentrating. He suggested I should relax, shut
off the internal dialogue and let go, merging with the person being observed.
I asked him to explain what he meant by "merging." He said there was no way to explain it,
that it was something that the body felt or did when put in observational contact with other
bodies. He then clarified the issue by saying that in the past he had called that process seeing, and
that it consisted of a lull of true silence within, followed by an outward elongation of something
in the self, an elongation that met and merged with the other body, or with anything within one's
field of awareness.
At that point I wanted to get back to my writing pad, but he stopped me and began to single
out different people from the crowd that passed by.
He pointed out dozens of persons covering a wide range of types among men, women and
children of various ages. Don Juan said that he had selected persons whose weak tonal could fit
into a categorization scheme, and thus he had acquainted me with a preconceived variety of
indulging.
I did not remember all the people he had pointed out and discussed. I complained that if I had
taken notes I could have at least sketched out the intricacies of his schemata on indulging. As it
was he did not want to repeat it or perhaps he did not remember it either.
He laughed and said that he did not remember it, because in the life of a sorcerer it was the
nagual that was accountable for creativity.
77
He looked at the sky and said that it was getting late, and that from that moment on we were
going to change direction. Instead of weak tonals we were going to wait for the appearance of a
"proper tonal." He added that only a warrior had a "proper tonal," and that the average man, at
best, could have a "right tonal."
After a few minutes' wait he slapped his thigh and chuckled.
"Look who's coming now," he said, pointing to the street with a movement of his chin. "It is as
if they were made to order."
I saw three male Indians approaching. They had on some short brown woolen ponchos, white
pants that came to their mid calf, long-sleeved white tops, dirty worn-out sandals and old straw
hats. Each of them carried a bundle tied to his back.
Don Juan stood up and went to meet them. He spoke to them. They seemed surprised and
surrounded him. They smiled at him. He was apparently telling them something about me; the
three of them turned around and smiled at me. They were about ten or twelve feet away; I listened
carefully but I could not hear what they were saying.
Don Juan reached in his pocket and handed them some bills. They appeared to be pleased;
they moved their feet nervously. I liked them very much. They looked like children. All of them
had small white teeth and very pleasing mild features. One, by all appearances the oldest, had
whiskers. His eyes were tired but very kind. He took off his hat and came closer to the bench. The
others followed him. The three of them greeted me in unison. We shook hands. Don Juan told me
to give them some money. They thanked me and after a polite silence they said good-by. Don
Juan sat back down on the bench and we watched them disappear in the crowd.
I told don Juan that for some strange reason I had liked them very much.
"It isn't so strange," he said. "You must've felt that their tonal is just right. It is right, but not
for our time.
"You probably felt they were like children. They are. And that is very tough. I understand
them better than you, thus I couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness. Indians are like dogs, they
have nothing. But that is the nature of their fortune and I shouldn't feel sad. My sadness, of
course, is my own way of indulging."
"Where are they from, don Juan?"
"From the Sierras. They've come here to seek their fortune. They want to become merchants.
They're brothers. I told them that I also came from the Sierras and I'm a merchant myself. I said
that you were my partner. The money we gave them was a token; a warrior should give tokens
like that all the time. They no doubt need the money, but need should not be an essential
consideration for a token. The thing to look for is feeling. I personally was moved by those three.
"Indians are the losers of our time. Their downfall began with the Spaniards and now under
the reign of their descendants the Indians have lost everything. It is not an exaggeration to say
that the Indians have lost their tonal"
"Is that a metaphor, don Juan?"
"No. It is a fact. The tonal is very vulnerable. It cannot withstand maltreatment. The white
man, from the day he set foot on this land, has systematically destroyed not only the Indian tonal
of the time, but also the personal tonal of every Indian. One can easily surmise that for the poor
average Indian the reign of the white man has been sheer hell. And yet the irony is that for
another kind of Indian it has been sheer bliss."
"Who are you talking about? What kind of Indian is that?"
"The sorcerer. For the sorcerer the Conquest was the challenge of a lifetime. They were the
only ones who were not destroyed by it but adapted to it and used it to their ultimate advantage."
"How was that possible, don Juan? I was under the impression that the Spaniards left no stone
78
unturned."
"Let's say that they turned over all the stones that were within the limits of their own tonal. In
the Indian life, however, there were things that were incomprehensible to the white man; those
things he did not even notice. Perhaps it was the sheer luck of the sorcerers, or perhaps it was
their knowledge that saved them. After the tonal of the time and the personal tonal of every
Indian was obliterated, the sorcerers found themselves holding on to the only thing left
uncontested, the nagual. In other words, their tonal took refuge in their nagual. This couldn't
have happened had it not been for the excruciating conditions of a vanquished people. The men of
knowledge of today are the product of those conditions and are the ultimate connoisseurs of the
nagual since they were left there thoroughly alone. There, the white man has never ventured. In
fact, he doesn't even have the idea it exists."
I felt compelled at that point to present an argument. I sincerely contended that in European
thought we had accounted for what he called the nagual. I brought in the concept of the
Transcendental Ego, or the unobserved observer present in all our thoughts, perceptions and
feelings. I explained to don Juan that the individual could perceive or intuit himself, as a self,
through the Transcendental Ego, because this was the only thing capable of judgment, capable of
disclosing reality within the realm of its consciousness.
Don Juan was unruffled. He laughed.
"Disclosing reality," he said, mimicking me. "That's the tonal."
I argued that the tonal may be called the Empirical Ego found in one's passing stream of
consciousness or experience, while the Transcendental Ego was found behind that stream.
"Watching, I suppose," he said mockingly.
"That's right. Watching itself," I said.
"I hear you talking," he said. "But you're saying nothing. The nagual is not experience or
intuition or consciousness. Those terms and everything else you may care to say are only items on
the island of the tonal. The nagual, on the other hand, is only effect. The tonal begins at birth and
ends at death, but the nagual never ends. The nagual has no limit. I've said that the nagual is
where power hovers; that was only a way of alluding to it. By reasons of its effect, perhaps the
nagual can be best understood in terms of power. For instance, when you felt numb and couldn't
talk earlier today, I was actually soothing you; that is, my nagual was acting upon you."
"How was that possible, don Juan?"
"You won't believe this, but no one knows how. All I know is that I wanted your undivided
attention and then my nagual went to work on you. I know that much because I can witness its
effect, but I don't know how it works."
He was quiet for a while. I wanted to keep on the same topic. I at tempted to ask a question; he
silenced me.
"One can say that the nagual accounts for creativity," he finally said and looked at me
piercingly. "The nagual is the only part of us that can create."
He remained quiet, looking at me. I felt he was definitely leading me into an area I had
wished he would elucidate further. He had said that the tonal did not create anything, but only
witnessed and assessed. I asked how he explained the fact that we construct superb structures and
machines.
"That's not creativity," he said. "That's only molding. We can mold anything with our hands,
personally or in conjunction with the hands of other tonals. A group of tonals can mold anything,
superb structures as you said."
"But what's creativity then, don Juan?"
He stared at me, squinting his eyes. He chuckled softly, lifted his right hand over his head and
79
twisted his wrist with a sharp jerk, as if he were turning a door knob.
"Creativity is this," he said and brought his hand with a cupped palm to the level of my eyes.
It took me an incredibly long time to focus my eyes on his hand. I felt that a transparent
membrane was holding my whole body in a fixed position and that I had to break it in order to
place my sight on his hand.
I struggled until beads of perspiration ran into my eyes. Finally I heard or felt a pop and my
eyes and head jerked free.
On his right palm there was the most curious rodent I had ever seen. It looked like a bushytailed
squirrel. The tail, however, was more like a porcupine's. It had stiff quills.
"Touch it!" don Juan said softly.
I automatically obeyed him and ran my finger on its soft back. Don Juan brought his hand
closer to my eyes and then I noticed something that threw me into nervous spasms. The squirrel
had eyeglasses and big teeth.
"It looks like a Japanese," I said and began to laugh hysterically.
The rodent then started to grow in don Juan's palm. And while my eyes were still filled with
tears of laughter, the rodent became so enormous that it disappeared. It literally went out of the
frame of my vision. It happened so rapidly that I was caught in the middle of a spasm of laughter.
When I looked again, or when I wiped my eyes and focused them properly, I was looking at don
Juan. He was sitting on the bench and I was standing in front of him, although I did not remember
having stood up.
For a moment my nervousness was uncontainable. Don Juan calmly got up, forced me to sit,
propped my chin between the bicep and forearm of his left arm and hit me on the very top of my
head with the knuckles of his right hand. The effect was like the jolt of an electric current. It
calmed me down immediately.
There were so many things that I wanted to ask. But my words could not wade through all
those thoughts. I then became keenly aware that I had lost control over my vocal cords. I did not
want to struggle to speak, however, and leaned against the back of the bench. Don Juan said
forcefully that I had to pull myself together and stop indulging. I felt a bit dizzy. He imperatively
ordered me to write my notes and handed me my pad and pencil after picking them up from
underneath the bench.
I made a supreme effort to say something and again I had the clear sensation that a membrane
was enveloping me. I puffed and groaned for a moment, while don Juan laughed, until I heard or
felt another pop.
I began to write immediately. Don Juan spoke as if he were dictating to me.
"One of the acts of a warrior is never to let anything affect him," he said. "Thus, a warrior may
be seeing the devil himself, but he won't let anyone know that. The control of a warrior has to be
impeccable."
He waited until I had finished writing and then asked me laughingly, "Did you get all that?"
I suggested that we should go to a restaurant and have dinner. I was famished. He said that we
had to stay until the "proper tonal" appeared. He added in a serious tone that if the "proper tonal"
did not come that day we had to remain on the bench until it cared to show up.
"What is a proper tonal?" I asked.
"A tonal that is just right, balanced and harmonious. You are supposed to find one today, or
rather your power is supposed to bring one to us."
"But how can I tell it apart from other tonals?"
"Never mind that. I will point it out to you."
"What is it like, don Juan?"
80
"Hard to tell. It depends on you. This is a show for you, therefore you will set up those
conditions yourself."
"How?"
"I don't know that. Your power, your nagual, will do that.
"There are, roughly speaking, two sides to every tonal. One is the outer part, the fringe, the
surface of the island. That's the part related to action and acting, the rugged side. The other part is
the decision and judgment, the inner tonal, softer, more delicate and more complex.
"The proper tonal is a tonal where the two levels are in perfect harmony and balance."
Don Juan stopped talking. It was fairly dark by then and I had a hard time taking notes. He
told me to stretch and relax. He said that it had been quite an exhausting day but very prolific and
that he was sure the proper tonal would show up.
Dozens of people went by. We sat in a relaxed silence for ten or fifteen minutes. Then don
Juan stood up abruptly.
"By golly you've done it! Look what's coming there. A girl!"
He pointed with a nod of his head to a young woman who was crossing the park and was
approaching the vicinity of our bench. Don Juan said that that young woman was the proper tonal
and that if she would stop to talk to either one of us it would be an extraordinary omen and we
would have to do whatever she wanted.
I could not clearly distinguish the young woman's features, although there was still enough
light. She came within a couple of feet but went by without looking at us. Don Juan ordered me in
a whisper to get up and go talk to her.
I ran after her and asked for directions. I got very close to her. She was young, perhaps in her
mid-twenties, of medium height, very attractive and well-groomed. Her eyes were clear and
peaceful. She smiled at me as I spoke. There was something winning about her. I liked her as
much as I had liked the three Indians.
I went back to the bench and sat down.
"Is she a warrior?" I asked.
"Not quite," don Juan said. "Your power is not that keen yet to bring a warrior. But she's a just
right tonal. One that could turn into a proper tonal. Warriors come from that stock."
His statements aroused my curiosity. I asked him if women could be warriors. He looked at
me, apparently baffled by my question.
"Of course they can," he said, "and they are even better equipped for the path of knowledge
than men. But then men are a bit more resilient. I would say, however, that, all in all, women
have a slight advantage."
I said that it puzzled me that we had never talked about women in relation to his knowledge.
"You're a man," he said, "therefore I use the masculine gender when I talk to you. That's all.
The rest is the same."
I wanted to question him further but he made a gesture to close the topic. He looked up. The
sky was almost black. The banks of clouds looked extremely dark. There were still, however,
some areas where the clouds were slightly orange.
"The end of the day is your best time," don Juan said. "The appearance of that young woman
at the very edge of the day is an omen. We were talking about the tonal, therefore it is an omen
about your tonal."
"What does the omen mean, don Juan?"
"It means that you have very little time left to organize your arrangements. Any arrangements
that you might have constructed have to be viable arrangements because you don't have time to
make new ones. Your arrangements must work now, or they are not arrangements at all.
81
"I suggest that when you go back home you check your lines and make sure they are strong.
You will need them."
"What's going to happen to me, don Juan?"
"Years ago you bid for power. You have followed the hardships of learning faithfully, without
fretting or rushing. You are now at the edge of the day."
"What does that mean?"
"For a proper tonal everything on the island of the tonal is a challenge. Another way of saying
it is that for a warrior everything in this world is a challenge. The greatest challenge of all, of
course, is his bid for power. But power comes from the nagual, and when a warrior finds himself
at the edge of the day it means that the hour of the nagual is approaching, the warrior's hour of
power."
"I still don't understand the meaning of all this, don Juan. Does it mean that I am going to die
soon?"
"If you're stupid, you will," he retorted cuttingly. "But putting it in milder terms, it means that
you're about to shiver in your pants. You bid for power once and that bidding is irreversible. I
won't say that you're about to fulfill your destiny, because there is no destiny. The only thing that
one can say then is that you're about to fulfill your power. The omen was clear. That young
woman came to you at the edge of the day. You have little time left, and none of it for crap. A
fine state. I would say that the best of us always comes out when we are against the wall, when
we feel the sword dangling overhead. Personally, I wouldn't have it any other way."
82

V. si fiserele atasate postarii (sub titlu, sub imagini).

[Bdi]

Asa este cum ziceti.

Este si:
Personal / Impersonal
si
cognoscibil / incognoscibil...
neti neti - iti iti.
Cuvinte omenesti.
Stie (doar) El ce si cum.
Din fericire ne iubeste si ne cheama sa-I fim copii buni.

[Bdi]

Joan Osbourne
If God Was One of Us

If God had a name, what would it be
And would you call it to His face
If you were faced with Him in all His glory
What would you ask if you had just one question
And yeah yeah God is great yeah yeah God is good
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
What if God was one of us
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
If God had a face what would it look like
And would you want to see
If seeing meant that you would have to believe
In things like heaven and in Jesus and the saints and all the prophets
And yeah yeah God is great yeah yeah God is good
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
What if God was one of us
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make His way home
He's trying to make His way home
Back up to heaven all alone
Nobody calling on the phone
Except for the pope maybe in Rome
And yeah yeah God is great yeah yeah God is good
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
What if God was one of us
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make His way home
Just trying to make His way home
Like a holy rolling stone
Back up to heaven all alone
Just trying to make His way home
Nobody calling on the phone
Except for the pope maybe in Rome



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZEO1Lug25s






http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UYZKZfdr3ac

[Bdi]

Charlie Winston - "In Your hands"

[Bdi]

Koan tantric [sic !]:
" Care este adevarul?
E Omul una din gafele lui Dumnezeu sau Dumnezeu una din gafele Omului? "

[Bdi]

Cum sa strig.doc

[Bdi]

V. si:

http://altmarius.ning.com/profiles/blogs/o-foarte-tare-cartepoarta-de

http://altmarius.ning.com/profiles/blogs/ramana-cineva-care-a-reusit

http://altmarius.ning.com/profiles/blogs/jivanmukta-1

http://altmarius.ning.com/profiles/blogs/sff-ioasaf-sau-iosafat-adi...

http://altmarius.ning.com/profiles/blogs/sff-ioasaf-sau-iosafat-adi...

http://altmarius.ning.com/profiles/blogs/realitatea-de-care-nu-ne-dam

http://altmarius.ning.com/profiles/blogs/3496555:BlogPost:28987

http://altmarius.ning.com/profiles/blogs/zen-din-nou

http://altmarius.ning.com/profiles/blogs/cel-care-cauta

[Bdi]

Calea spre Eleonul cel de Sus . „Eleon” se tâlcuieşte în limba noastră: „Muntele Măslinilor”
Cum a călătorit – în vedenie – Stareţul Ioasaf din Sf. Sava la muntele cel minunat din ceruri. S-a tâlcuit din greceşte această vedenie în anul 1942, iar acum s-a scris pentru folosul de obşte, de către cel mai nevrednic dintre Ieromonahi, Ioan Iacob în Schitul „Sf. Ana” – Hozeva, 17 Noiembrie 1957.
Vedenia Stareţului Ioasaf din Mănăstirea Sf. Sava, anul 1854
Iată cum povesteşte monahul Ioasaf vedenia pe care a avut-o la Sf. Sava:
În 13 zile ale lunii Martie (ziua de joi), ora 6 din noapte, m-am sculat să ascult slujba Utreniei. Am mers în Biserică şi m-am aşezat în strană, iar fraţii citeau Miezonoptica. Atunci eu cugetam la patimile Domnului nostru Iisus Hristos, zicând în mintea mea: „Un Dumnezeu Făcător, Ziditor şi Creator a toate a primit să se facă om pentru noi, S-a răstignit şi S-a îngropat. Acestea toate le-a suferit pentru mântuirea oamenilor”.
Cugetând eu acestea, mi s-a înduioşat inima şi mi-a venit atâta bucurie în sufletul meu, şi o linişte negrăită s-a revărsat în mintea mea, încât am ajuns la aşa de mare umilinţă, că lacrămile curgeau pârâu din ochii mei. Şi mi-a venit atunci în suflet o negrăită dragoste dumnezeiască care mă înflăcăra (mă aprindea la inimă). Dimpreună cu dragostea mi-a venit şi o smerenie aşa de mare, încât nu găseam nici o făptură aşa ticăloasă ca mine. Atunci mi s-au deschis ochii în aşa chip. ca şi cum s-ar fi făcut o cale din inima mea până la tronul lui Dumnezeu.
În vremea aceea, mintea mea dimpotrivă cu aşezarea cuvântului (adică cugetarea) şi cu inima mea erau legate şi mă rugam în taină cu mintea, fără o piedică oarecare. Atunci eu ziceam când rugăciunea, când oarecare cuvinte umilicioase. După aceea mi-a venit aşa o dragoste pentru aproapele meu încât mă rugam atunci pentru cei care mă duşmăneau şi pentru cei care mă urau şi din multa bucurie a inimii mi s-a umilit duhul (sufletul meu). Câtă vreme eram în această stare mă vedeam pe mine că sunt în Biserică şi-i vedeam şi pe fraţii cari citeau. După aceea, nemaiputând să stau în picioare, am tras scândura de la strană şi m-am aşezat, rugându-mă mereu cu mintea. Atunci am fost cuprins de o aşa de mare dragoste dumnezeiască încât n-a mai fost chip să mă odihnesc (să mă simt) pe pământ. În acele clipe nu mai aveam teamă de Dumnezeu, ci simţeam o mare îndrăzneală şi dragoste către El.
Fiind stăpânit sufletul meu de o asemenea dragoste, n-am mai putut să zic rugăciunea minţii şi nici vreo altă rugăciune, ci numai cât simţeam în sufletul meu o aprindere şi o dragoste dumnezeiască, întocmai ca o flacără care îmi ardea inima. Sufletul meu era pironit către Dumnezeu şi numai la El cugetam, iar din ochii mei curgeau ca un râu lacrimile. Mi s-a înduioşat duhul din bucuria inimii şi eram cuprins de o mare smerenie.
Atunci deodată m-am făcut întru uimire (adică am fost răpit) cu duhul şi nu mai vedeam după aceea nici Biserica, nici pe fraţii dinăuntru şi nici nu mai auzeam cele cari se citeau la strană.
Mă aflam atunci (cu duhul) într-o livadă mare şi prea frumoasă, care era împodobită cu tot felul de copaci şi cu flori pline de mireasmă. Podoaba şi frumuseţea ei nu se poate scrie şi nici nu se poate povesti de limba omenească.
Era plină de atâta lumină ca şi cum ar fi fost luminată de şapte sori. Am privit de departe şi am văzut o mulţime de oameni oarecari în veşminte strălucitoare, toţi tineri cu vârsta şi frumoşi la chip. Fiecare din ei strălucea ca soarele şi păşeau încet, încet. Atunci simţeam mare bucurie în sufletul meu şi ziceam, nedumerindu-mă în sine: „Oare a cui să fie livada aceasta şi cine să fie oare aceşti oameni? Şi cum mă aflu eu aici?” Acestea cugetându-le, mergeam şi eu cu dânşii. După ce am mers o mică distanţă, am văzut şi pe alţi oameni, mulţime nenumărată, cari stăteau toţi împreună şi erau îmbrăcaţi în haine soldăţeşti. Toţi erau tineri cu vârsta, voinici la trup şi foarte blânzi şi frumoşi la chip, strălu-cind ca soarele. Când i-am văzut eu pe aceştia m-am oprit, privind la frumuseţea şi la podoaba lor. Simţeam atunci o mare bucurie în sufletul meu. După aceasta, am auzit o voce de la dânşii, zicând astfel: „Fratele nostru Iosaf are mare dorinţă să meargă la Împăratul, după cum ştim noi toţi. Deci cine este dintre noi să-l conducă (adică să-l călăuzească)?” Atunci s-a despărţit unul dintre ei. care era mai tânăr, mai voinic şi mai frumos decât toţi. În mijlocul celorlalţi strălucea şi se arăta ca un ofiţer peste ceilalţi. Deci s-a întors şi a zis către ceilalţi tineri: „Eu îl voi conduce, căci precum ştiţi are deosebită dragoste către mine. Ziua şi noaptea mă ruga pentru aceasta şi de multe ori m-am pus chezaş la Împăratul pentru el”.
Zicând el acestea, s-a pornit către mine. Iar eu cugetam cu mirare, zicând: „Pe oamenii aceştia eu nu i-am văzut altă dată, dar ei m-au văzut şi de unde îmi cunosc numele? Apoi de unde au aflat că eu doresc să merg la Împăratul?” Cugetând eu acestea, a venit tânărul lângă mine şi mi-a zis cu faţă veselă: „Urmează-mă, ca să mergem la Împăratul”! Iar eu i-am zis: „Te rog frate, lasă-mă; cine sunt eu să merg la Împăratul? Şi care Împărat este acela care să mă cunoască pe mine?”
Atunci el a zâmbit puţin cu faţa veselă şi mi-a zis: „Oare te prefaci că nu ştii care Împărat este Acela la care vreau să te duc? Ori poate nu ştii cine sunt eu? Pentru că m-ai iubit şi m-ai rugat ziua şi noaptea, iată am venit să te iau şi să te conduc spre a merge la împăratul. Este cu neputinţă să te las, trebuie să mă urmezi!”
Atunci eu neavând ce să mai răspund, l-am urmat (acela mergând înainte şi eu după dânsul). Cum mergeam eu aşa, îmi zicea gândul să-l întreb cine este el, de arată către mine atâta dragoste, pentru că nu-l cunoşteam încă cine este. Dar iarăşi mă ruşinam să-l întreb, zicându-mi în gând că poate voi afla pe urmă. Aveam însă mare uşurare în sufletul meu câtă vreme îl vedeam lângă mine.
Deci am mers noi multă distanţă de loc, de la acea câmpie prea frumoasă, aşa încât nu se mai vedea nimeni afară de noi doi (adică eu şi călăuza), care mergeam. Când s-a terminat acea câmpie mare şi prea frumoasă am ajuns la o cărăruşă îngustă, care era foarte lungă, încât nu i se vedea capătul, iar de o parte şi de alta erau ca nişte ziduri înalte. Calea aceea era atât de îngustă, încât abia putea trece un singur om pe jos.
Când am ajuns acolo mi-a venit în inima mea o oarecare sfială, pentru că locul acela era sălbatec şi fără nici o mângâiere, dar când vedeam pe călăuza mea, se veselea sufletul meu.
Atunci călăuza mea oprindu-se puţin, m-a privit cu faţa lină şi veselă şi mi-a zis: „Pentru ce frate, este tulburat sulfetul tău? Pentru ce te-ai lăsat stăpânit de lene şi se răspândeşte mintea ta încoace şi încolo? Pentru ce nu-ţi păzeşti mintea la cugetarea numelui lui Iisus Hristos? Au nu ştii câtă pagubă are omul când se leneveşte la Rugăciune, chiar şi numai la o singură răsuflare? Şi iarăşi oare nu ştii câtă folosinţă dobândeşte când cugetă totdeauna la mântuitorul nume al Domnului nostru Iisus Hristos? Un asemenea om se izbăveşte de patimi şi de păcate, făcându-se sălaş al Sfintei Treimi. Acela va să ajungă la desăvârşită dragoste, din care dragoste ai gustat o parte şi tu (prin nespusa milostivire a lui Dumnezeu), şi-i cunoşti dulceaţa. Deci pentru ce ai neglijat acest lucru (adică Rugăciunea minţii)? Până când vei rămâne, frate, în acest somn adânc al trândăviei, şezând întru nelu-crare? Adu-ţi aminte de aşezarea ta cea mai dinainte, pe care ai neglijat-o (ai nesocotit-o) cu desăvârşire? Oare nu Dumnezeu este cel care te-a învăţat chipul în care să iei de mijlocitoare şi de chezăşuire a mântuirii tale pe Pururea Fecioara Născătoare de Dumnezeu? Oare El te-a învrednicit să afli povăţuitor neînşelat spre încredinţarea acestui lucru? Au nu cunoşti frate, milostivirea şi dragostea ce ţi-a arătat-o Dumnezeu? Dar cu toate acestea, mare este milostivirea lui Dumnezeu către tine!”
Când mi-a grăit aceste cuvinte călăuza mea, m-a cuprins o mare umilinţă şi cu inima înfrântă, ziceam: „Doamne, Iisuse Hristoase, Fiul lui Dumnezeu, miluieşte-mă”. Şi când auzeam rugăciunea atât de mult mi se aprindea inima spre dragoste şi iubire dumne-zeiască şi aşa de curat mă rugam, căci nici un lucru şi nici un cuget nu era ca să-mi tulbure mintea, ori să mă împiedice de la rugăciune. Şi atât de mult mi s-a adâncit mintea întru rugăciune şi atâta putere am luat din ea, încât mi-a fugit frica ce m-a cuprins mai înainte.
Atunci s-a întors călăuza mea spre mine şi mi-a zis:„Ai văzut că eşti mai bine dacă zici Rugăciunea? Dacă vrei să fii totdeauna în această stare şi să te mântuieşti, scoală-te din adâncul somn al trândăviei şi unelteşte iarăşi aşezarea ta cea mai dinainte. Cea dintâi treabă a ta să fie paza poruncilor lui Dumnezeu cu neşovăire. Toată râvna ta s-o pui întru cugetarea numelui lui Iisus Hristos, precum şi a Stăpânei noastre, de Dumnezeu Născătoare.
Ia seama să păzeşti şi aceasta cu scumpătate, adică: Să te mărturiseşti curat în toată ziua (oricâte ţi s-ar întâmpla) şi să nu ascunzi vreun cuget de către duhovnicul tău!”
Zicându-mi el acestea, am început să mergem pe ulicioara cea îngustă şi cum mergeam, am văzut deasupra zidului (lângă drum) nişte cruci, ca semne ale drumului. Când am ajuns aproape de cruce, călăuza s-a oprit, făcând de trei ori semnul crucii şi zicând: „Crucii Tale ne închinăm, Stăpâne şi Sfântă Învierea Ta o lăudăm!”
Mi-a zis apoi şi mie să fac la fel cu dânsul şi am făcut. După ce am mers o mare distanţă de loc, am ajuns în partea cealaltă din faţă, la capătul ulicioarei. Terminân-du-se drumul, am ajuns într-un loc, de care te cuprindea frică şi cutremur văzându-l. Pentru că era o prăpastie, ca un fel de haos întunecos. Se arăta o groapă adâncă ca o mare, a cărei lungime şi lăţime era fără sfârşit. Nu se vedea acolo nimic, decât întuneric beznă. În partea din faţă a gropii – foarte departe – se vedea un munte înalt, al cărui vârf ajungea până la cer. Pe la mijlocul acelei gropi înfricoşate era o punte îngrozitoare, pentru că puntea aceea era numai dintr-un lemn rotund, a cărui grosime era numai de o palmă şi unul din capetele punţii era la capătul uliţei celei înguste, iar celălalt capăt era la poalele muntelui celui înalt. Când sufla vântul, tremura puntea ca o frunză de copac.
Dacă am ajuns noi mai aproape şi am văzut acea groapă groaznică şi înfricoşată şi puntea, atunci mi-a venit frică şi cutremur în sufletul meu, când mă gândeam că este nevoie să trecem peste puntea aceea. M-am uitat într-o parte şi în alta să vad de nu este cumva un alt loc să trecem dincolo de groapă, pentru a ajunge la muntele cel înalt, care se vedea departe. Dar nu se afla nicăieri nici drum şi nici loc uscat de trecut, ci era groapa aceea toată numai, ca o mare întunecoasă.
Atunci s-a întors iarăşi călăuza spre mine şi mi-a zis. ca şi cum m-ar certa: „Iarăşi ai lăsat Rugăciunea şi pentru asta te cuprinde frica. Dă-mi încoace mâna”! Atunci eu i-am dat mâna cea dreaptă şi el apucându-mă m-a urcat deasupra pe punte şi ne-am pornit să mergem.
După ce am mers puţină distanţă, am văzut că puntea se clătina şi tremura ca frunzele când o suflă vântul. Eu am privit într-o parte şi în alta a gropii şi mi-a venit frică să mai merg pe ea, dar cu toate acestea, când vedeam călăuza mea că mă ţine de mână, mai prindeam puţin curaj.
Atunci s-a oprit puţin călăuza mea întorcându-şi faţa spre mine şi mi-a zis: „Fă-ţi semnul crucii de trei ori şi cheamă numele Stăpânei noastre, de Dumnezeu Născătoarei şi Pururea Fecioarei Maria, pentru că în locul acesta mare putere are numele Ei!”Atunci, eu am făcut de trei ori cruce şi am zis în mintea mea: „Preasfântă Născătoare de Dumnezeu, ajută-mi!”Şi (O, minune!), atâta putere mi-a venit în sufletul meu, încât n-am mai simţit vreo sfială sau frică.
Totuşi putea tremura ca pânza de păianjen, când mergeam noi pe ea. După multă vreme de cale, am ajuns la capătul punţii. Terminându-se puntea am ieşit la picioarele muntelui arătat.
Atunci călăuza mi-a slobozit mâna de care mă ţinea şi mi-a zis: „De-acum nu mai ai frică”! Dar eu, din multa dragoste pe care o aveam către călăuza mea, nu voiam să mă despart, ci tot mă ţineam de mâna lui şi mergeam împreună. Dacă am mers aşa o mică distanţă, am început să urcăm muntele. Atunci m-am uitat în sus şi nu se vedea vârful lui, aşa era de înalt. Era şi greu de urcat, dar şi locul era prea veselitor. După ce am urcat o bună disanţă, m-am oprit puţin şi am privit în toate părţile muntelui, minunându-mă. Pentru că toate părţile muntelui erau acoperite cu măslini.Şi mi-am zis în mintea mea: „De unde s-au găsit aici atâţia măslini?” Şi iarăşi am început să urcăm spre vârf. După ce am mers o bună distanţă am ajuns deasupra în vârful muntelui. Şi iarăşi mai mergând puţin am ajuns la o poartă mare, care era deschisă.
Atunci călăuza mea a făcut semnul crucii de trei ori, asemenea şi eu, apoi am intrat înăuntru pe poartă. M-am uitat eu acolo şi am văzut o câmpie atât de mare, încât nu i se vedea capătul, nici în lungime şi nici în lăţime: precum este tăria cerului aşa de mare era şi câmpia ceea. Frumuseţea şi podoaba ei cine este în stare să o povestească?
Însemnare: Până aici am găsit scrisă vedenia lui Iosaf. Mai mult nu se află în mînăstirea Sf. Sava. Se zice că în Sfântul Munte se gă seşte scrisă vedenia aceasta până la sfârşit. Dacă ajută Bunul Dumnezeu, voi căuta prin scrisoare, ca să aflu şi restul povestirii.


Urmare la vedenia Stareţului Ioasaf din Mănăstirea Sf. Sava, anul 1854

Şi de aş voi să descriu frumuseţea acelui câmp, nu aş putea, pentru că nu este vreun lucru pământesc cu care să-l asemăn. Limba omenească nu poate să spună frumuseţea lui, nici minte omenească nu poate să o înţeleagă. Acel câmp era împodobit cu tot felul de copaci şi înfrumuseţat cu tot felul de flori cu bună mireasmă.Lumina care lumina acolo era ca şi cum ar fi şapte sori.

Deci, când am văzut acel câmp, s-a robit inima mea de frumuseţea lui şi pofteam să rămân acolo. Dar povăţuitorul meu îmi zice: „De acum ai să-L vezi şi alte lucruri frumoase şi după aceea ai să-L vezi şi pe Împăratul”. Şi mergeam, bucurându-ne, pe acel câmp frumos. Şi am văzut de departe mulţime de oameni îmbrăcaţi în haine călugăreşti, însă nu negre, ci roşii strălucitoare. Hainele lor străluceau ca lumina, iar feţele lor mai mult decât soarele. Vederea şi frumuseţea lor era mai presus de înţelegerea omenească. Unii dintre ei erau tineri, iar alţii bătrâni. Şi apropiindu-ne de ei, ne-au primit cu mare bucurie şi au zis către povăţuitorul meu: „Bucură-te, mare mucenice Gheorghe, iubitule al lui Hristos”. Asemenea şi el le-a zis lor: „Bucuraţi-vă şi voi, cuvioşilor, iubiţii lui Hristos”. Atunci toţi şi-au întors feţele lor spre mine şi cu feţe vesele mi-au zis: „Fiule Ioasafe, de ar dobândi omul toată lumea şi-şi va pierde sufletul, ce va folosi şi de ar trăi o sută de ani şi ar dobândi toate bunătăţile lumii şi de şi-ar face toate poftele, tot trebuie să vină înfricoşătorul ceas al morţii şi toată viaţa lui i se va părea un vis şi o umbră. Iar tu de te vei scula din lenevire şi vei începe iarăşi viaţa ta cea dintâi, vei plăcea lui Dumnezeu şi te vei învrednici cereştii fericiri şi te vei bucura împreună cu noi în veci. Iar de-ţi vei petrece viaţa ta cu lenevire, vei ajunge în valea care primeşte pe cei leneşi şi trândavi şi nepocăiţi. Fiule, nu voiesc a iubi mai mult acel noian întunecat decât această fericire. Nu voiesc a pune mai presus lenevirea decât dragostea lui Hristos! Fiule, adu-ţi aminte din ce înălţime ai căzut şi de ce te-ai înstrăinat şi ce ai păgubit! Fiule, întoarce-te şi cazi la milostivirea lui Dumnezeu şi noi nu vom înceta rugându-L pe dânsul”! După aceasta ne-am despărţit de ei şi am plecat mai departe. Atunci s-a înfricoşat sufletul meu de aceasta. Şi am aflat că povăţuitorul meu era Sfântul Mare Mucenic Gheorghe, purtătorul de biruinţă. Şi mi-am adus aminte şi de cuvintele ce le-a zis el, când se întrebau acei ostaşi” „Cine să-L povăţuiască din noi?” Căci zicând: „Eu o să-l povăţuiesc, pentru că are deosebită dragoste către mine şi de multe ori m-am pus chezaş şi mijlocitor către împăratul pentru dânsul”, l-am cunoscut pe deplin, căci de la început aveam mare şi deosebită dragoste către Sf. Gheorghe, mai mult decât faţă de alţi sfinţi. Şi de multe ori l-am pus mijlocitor pentru mântuirea mea. Şi multe minuni a făcut cu mine şi oricând l-am rugat nu m-a lăsat neajutorat.
Deci, când am cunoscut că povăţuitorul meu este Marele Mucenic Gheorghe, din multa dragoste ce o aveam către el în sufletul meu, n-am mai putut răbda, ci l-am îmbrăţişat şi l-am sărutat mult timp. Apoi mergeam mai departe împreună, ţinându-ne de mână. Iar sufletul meu era lipit de dânsul, din multa dragoste ce aveam către el.Şi mai mergând noi puţin am văzut de departe şi alţi oameni, şi aceştia cu haine călugăreşti îmbrăcaţi, ca şi ceilalţi. Însă îmbrăcămintea şi feţele lor străluceau mai mult decât soarele şi aveau mai multă şi mai mare slavă decât ceilalţi. Şi strălucire mai mare aveau, dar erau puţini la număr. Şi întrebai pe povăţuitorul meu, zicând: „Sfinte Gheorghe, cine sunt aceştia? Ce sunt de atâta slavă, strălucire şi frumuseţe şi ce au săvârşit în viaţa lor?” Atunci mi-a răspuns zicând: „Aceştia sunt călugării cei de acum, care fără povăţuitori şi fără pilda faptelor bune ale altora, ci numai din singura lor bunăvoinţă au râvnit faptelor bune ale călugărilor celor de demult, săvârşind faptele cele bune ale lor, bineplăcând lui Dumnezeu”. Iar eu iarăşi i-am zis: „În vremea aceasta au lipsit faptele bune din lume, dar cum se poate să fie în ea acest fel de oameni aleşi?” Şi mi-a răspuns zicând: „Acest fel de oameni aleşi sunt puţini în zilele acestea în lume. Dar cel ce va face în aceste zile puţine fapte bune, după puterea lui, şi va plăcea lui Dumnezeu, mare se va chema aici, în împărăţia lui Dumnezeu. Căci cine face câteva fapte bune, le face din singura lui bunăvoinţă, fără povăţuitor şi fără pilda altora. Şi pentru aceasta Dumnezeu ca pe nişte desăvârşite le primeşte. Frate, în zilele acestea au lipsit faptele bune din lume, s-a înmulţit răutatea, a prisosit nedreptatea, a lipsit dragostea, s-a prăpădit adevărul din gurile oamenilor, a încetat cuvântul lui Dumnezeu şi se obişnuieşte osândirea şi minciuna. În loc de smerenie, înălţarea; în loc de dragoste, vrajba; în loc de milostivire, nemilostivirea, în loc de dreptate, nedreptatea. S-au înmulţit ţinerea de minte a răului, pizma şi alte asemenea. Toţi s-au abătut la rău. Nu este cel ce face bine. Foarte puţini sunt cei ce uneltesc faptele cele bune şi plac lui Dumnezeu. În zilele acestea se potriveşte: „Cel ce mântuieşte, mântuiască-şi sufletul său”! Nimeni să nu aştepte ajutor de la altul, ci numai de la Maica Domnului. Cel ce va cădea la dânsa cu tot sufletul, îl va povăţui şi cu adevărat se va mântui, pentru că toate câte le voieşte le poate, căci „Mult pot rugăciunile Maicii spre îmblânzirea Stăpânului” .
Aceste cuvinte mi-a zis şi iarăşi am început să mergem. Şi după ce am mers puţină depărtare spre partea Răsăritului a acelui câmp, se vedea de departe un palat mare şi frumos: înălţimea, lăţimea şi lungimea lui erau foarte mari. Zidurile lui nu se puteau asemîna cu altceva şi se vedeau că erau ca din aur curat. Strălucirea care ieşea din el, lumina tot locul acela. Forma palatului era neînţeleasă. Podoaba şi frumuseţea nu se pot înţelege cu mintea omenească. Şi l-am întrebat pe povăţuitorul meu: „Sfinte Gheorghe, ce palat este acesta?” Şi mi-a zis: „Acesta este palatul Împăratului, unde am să te duc”. Deci mergând, am ajuns la palat şi am venit la o poartă mare şi înaltă care era deschisă. Povăţuitorul meu şi-a făcut de trei ori cruce, asemenea şi eu şi am intrat înăuntru pe poartă într-o curte, iar din ea se vedeau toate părţile palatului aceluia. Şi văzându-le, m-am minunat de podoaba şi frumuseţea lor, pentru că ochi de om nu le-a văzut. Vedeam şi oameni mulţi plimbându-se pe acolo şi erau în mare slavă. Atunci povăţuitorul meu m-a apucat de mâna dreaptă şi mă ţinea şi mergeam împreună. După aceasta, am trecut printr-o poartă, care era deschisă şi am dat într-o sală mare şi frumoasă. Iar în partea de Răsărit a sălii era o altă poartă mare şi înaltă, care era făcută cu un meşteşug pe care mintea omenească nu poate să-l înţeleagă. Şi era împodobită cu pietre scumpe. În partea dreaptă a porţii era o icoană a Domnului nostru Iisus Hristos, şezând în jilţ. Iar înăuntru în sală era o mulţime multă de oameni, toţi îmbrăcaţi călugăreşte cu acelaşi fel de îmbrăcăminte, dar hainele lor erau roşii ca sângele şi străluceau ca fulgerul, iar în mâini ţineau cruci şi stâlpări. Frumuseţea şi podoaba lor nu pot să o povestesc.
Şi cum ne văzură, au venit în întâmpinarea noastră şi ne-au primit cu mare bucurie. Şi privind toţi spre mine mi-au zis cu glas dulce: „Frate, până când să te aşteptăm? Pentru ce nu te sileşti pe sine-ţi?” Apoi au zis către povăţuitorul meu: „Frate Gheorghe, iată că l-ai luat în stăpânirea ta, când ni-l vei aduce?” Sfântul a răspuns: „Când va voi Domnul”. Atunci aceia m-au luat din mâna povăţuitorului şi mă ţineau ei de mâini, arătându-mi prin aceasta mare dragoste.
Atunci povăţuitorul meu a mers şi a stat înaintea icoanei Maicii Domnului; la fel am mers şi noi toţi şi am stat înaintea ei cu multă rânduială. Şi toţi au început să cânte cu dulce glas: „Cuvine-se cu adevărat să te fericim…” Şi când cântau fiecare cuvânt al troparului atât de curat îl auzeam, încât se întipăreau în sufletul meu. Şi săvârşind cântarea, m-a luat iarăşi povăţuitorul meu şi făcându-ne de trei ori cruce, ne-am închinat la icoană, asemenea au făcut toţi sfinţii de acolo, apoi am zis: Aceasta pentru tine s-au făcut ca să nu ai îndoială faţă de cele pe care le vezi şi le auzi, ca şi cum ar fi nălucire diavolească. Nu este nălucire, ci milostivirea lui Dumnezeu!”
Apoi ei s-au depărtat puţin şi numai eu şi povăţuitorul meu am rămas în dreptul uşii. Şi fără de veste s-a deschis uşa singură de sine şi s-a văzut multă lumină afară, care ne-a înconjurat. Am stat afara uşii şi m-am uitat zicând: „Mare este mila Ta, Doamne, către fiii omeneşti!”
Şi câte am văzut acolo cu neputinţă este a le scrie cineva. Pentru că ochii de om nu au văzut, urechi nu au auzit, la inimă nu s-au suit şi minte de om nu poate să înţeleagă. Că am văzut o Biserică mare, iar zidirea ei era neînţeleasă. Frumuseţea şi podoaba ei nu se pot spune şi nici se pot asemîna cu vreun lucru omenesc. Înspre mijlocul Bisericii era un tron înalt şi preaslăvit. El era ca nişte cărbuni aprinşi şi strălucea ca soarele. În tron stătea Împăratul Slavei, Hristos. Împrejurul tronului şi al Împăratului sta mulţime nenumărată de oameni de toate vârstele. Unii dintre ei erau foarte tineri şi îmbrăcaţi în haine albe. Unii erau îmbrăcaţi în haine monahiceşti, iar alţii în haine ostăşeşti. Chipul Împăratului era aşa cum se vede zugrăvit pe icoane. Era cu trupul voinic şi îmbrăcat cu haine arhiereşti, iar pe cap avea cunună de pietre scumpe. Podoaba şi frumuseţea Împăratului cine poate să le spună? Din lumina care strălucea în faţa împăratului se lumina toată ceata aceea a sfinţilor şi toată Biserica. Şi toţi drepţii aceia s-au făcut asemenea cu împăratul întru strălucire.
Atunci mi-am adus aminte de cuvântul lui Agapie din cartea care se numeşte „Mântuirea păcătoşilor”, care povesteşte pentru slava raiului, zicând: „înlăuntru în cărbunii cei aprinşi când bagi un fier, arde şi se face şi acela foc şi nu mai ştii care sunt; cărbunii şi care este fierul. Aşa şi în rai este. Din strălucirea care iese de la Dumnezeu se împărtăşesc şi drepţii, ca şi însuşi Dumnezeu”! Aceasta aducându-mi aminte şi văzând acestea cu ochii mei, ziceam întru sine-mi: „Câte au scris sfinţii pentru slava raiului sunt foarte puţine, pentru că toate nu este cu putinţă a le scrie”.
Lumina care ieşea de la Împăratul Slavei era atât de strălucitoare, încât dacă s-ar aduna mii de mii de milioane de sori, n-ar fi strălucit atâta.
Buna cuviinţă şi frumuseţea Împăratului Slavei, strălucirea luminii celei nezidite, buna podoabă a Bisericii, slava drepţilor, cine poate să o spună? Că mai degrabă ar putea număra mulţimea stelelor şi a nisipului mării decât să spună acestea. Şi dacă s-ar adună toate limbile oamenilor şi dacă stelele cerului, nisipul mării şi frunzele copacilor s-ar face limbi, toate împreună n-ar putea spune nici măcar o parte din slava aceea.
Deci afară de uşă stând eu şi privind la slava aceea, am văzut pe povăţuitorul meu care a intrat înăuntru în Biserică şi a mers să se închine împăratului. Şi întorcându-şi faţa şi văzându-mă că nu vin după el, s-a întors şi venind aproape de mine mi-a zis: „Ce stai? Vino împreună cu mine să ne închinăm împăratului”! Şi pregătindu-mă să intru şi eu înăuntru, am auzit pe împăratul zicând: „Gheorghe, lasă-l pe el afară, că nu este vrednic să intre înăuntru, căci nu are îmbrăcăminte de nuntă! Când am auzit acel glas m-am temut puţin, ca nu cumva să mă osândească. Dar iarăşi am câştigat îndrăzneală, pentru că dragostea care era în sufletul meu pentru Împăratul alunga frica. Atunci povăţuitorul meu m-a lăsat afară de uşă şi a intrat singur la împăratul. Şi toată ceata aceea s-a sculat şi a cinstit pe povăţuitorul meu, ca pe o mare căpetenie a împăratului. Şi nu numai ceata drepţilor, ci însuşi Împăratul l-a cinstit cu mare cinste, căci degrabă s-a sculat din tron, l-a primit cu mare cinste şi bucurie, sărutându-l pe obraz, apoi iarăşi a stătut.
Apoi povăţuitorul meu a făcut trei metanii şi a sărutat picioarele împăratului şi a stat înaintea Lui cu smerenie şi a zis către El:„Doamne, adu-Ţi aminte de sângele care L-ai vărsat pe Cruce pentru păcătoşi! Adu-Ţi aminte că Te-ai pogorât pe pământ să mântuieşti pe cei păcătoşi! Deci iartă acest suflet şi-l povăţuieşte la calea mântuirii! Adânc nemăsurat este mila Ta, Stăpâne şi are trebuinţă de facerea de bine”! Atunci a răspuns Împăratul: „Gheorghe, ştii prea bine dragostea care o am către el din început; pentru că i-am arătat tainele cele ascunse şi dragostea Mea cea mare. Şi mulţi oameni s-au nevoit în toată viaţa lor, mai mult decât acesta şi nu au câştigat, iar acesta având-o în sufletul său a trecut-o cu vederea, alegând mai bine lenevirea şi împătimirea lumii, decât pe Mine. Şi pentru aceasta nu este vrednic de iertare”. Şi iarăşi a zis povăţuitorul meu: „Doamne, mă rog iartă-l, că de-l vei judeca după dreptatea Ta, vrednic este de pedeapsă; ci să prisosească darul şi milostivirea Ta cu el. Cele ascunse ale inimii lui sunt înaintea Ta pururea. Vezi bunăvoinţa lui, plineşte-i cererile inimii lui şi nevrând el, mântuieşte-l! Doamne, vezi şi aşezarea lumii! Unde este pilda cea bună? Unde este cuvântul Tău în gurile oamenilor? Unde este îndemnarea? Că de ar fi cineva să voiască să facă binele îl face numai din buna lui voinţă, căci duhovnicii şi stareţii îl opresc. Fiecare cele pentru folosul cel trupesc al său caută. Pentru aceasta, te rog, învaţă-l să facă voia Ta! Povăţuieşte-l la calea mântuirii! Chiverniseşte-i în pace viaţa lui! Fă-l moştenitor Împărăţiei Tale, căci toate câte le voieşti, le şi poţi”. Şi iarăşi a răspuns împăratul şi a zis: „Gheorghe, iubitul Meu, văd starea lumii, cuvintele Mele au încetat din gurile oamenilor. În locul cuvântului Meu, osândirea. În locul dragostei, urâciune, vrajbă şi pizmă. În loc de dreptate, nedreptate. A pierit adevărul. A lipsit smerenia. A prisosit răutatea, sodomia, curvia, preacurvia. S-a stricat lumea. Acestea toate le fac nu numai mirenii: bărbaţii şi femeile, ci şi preoţii şi călugării. Mă pătrund la cele dinlăuntru; a doua oară Mă răstignesc. Şi-au spurcat desăvârşit chipul călugăresc cel îngeresc. Însă toate le rabd cu nerăutate, aşteptând îndreptarea şi pocăinţa lor.
Iar pe acesta n-am încetat a-l povăţui până astăzi ca să facă voia Mea. Nu am încetat a-l striga prin cuvânt viu să nu facă ceea ce nu-Mi place Mie. Iar el, glasul Meu auzindu-L şi cunoscând cum că Eu sunt, după cum s-a adeverit de la mulţi duhovnici şi robi ai Mei îmbunătăţiţi, nu M-a ascultat. De multe ori i-am adus aminte de cea dintâi petrecere a lui ca să se întoarcă iarăşi la aceea, dar el a rămas neîndreptat. Deci fără de răspuns este înaintea Mea”. Atunci povăţuitorul meu a căzut la picioarele Împăratului cu mare smerenie şi a zis către Dânsul: „Doamne, adu-ţi aminte de sângele care l-am vărsat pentru dragostea Ta, şi-mi dăruieşte mie acest suflet şi-l iartă pe el. Aşa, Doamne, Te rog! Şi învredniceşte-l să bea şi paharul pe care-l poftea!”
Atunci, cu faţa veselă şi cu bucurie, a zis Împăratul: „Gheorghe, fie voia ta”! Apoi povăţuitorul meu s-a sculat şi a stat înaintea Împăratului cu îndrăzneală. Atunci Împăratul a luat cu mâna stângă un pahar plin, însă ce era în el nu ştiu, ci numai că era roşu ca vinul şi cu mâna dreaptă l-a blagoslovit şi l-a dat povăţuitorului meu şi a zis: „Acesta este paharul dragostei Mele, dă-i-l să-l bea”! Atunci l-a luat cu mâna dreaptă şi mi l-a adus zicându-mi: „Fă-ţi cruce şi-l bea”! Iar eu, făcând de trei ori cruce, l-am băut. Şi era aşa de dulce, încât nu se asemîna cu ceva pământesc. Şi, după ce l-am băut, mi-a venit în suflet o neasemuită dragoste şi dor dumnezeiesc, ca o pară de foc arzând în inima mea. Atunci am văzut pe povăţuitorul meu, aproape de împăratul, că i-a dat paharul deşert.
Deci eu, nemaiputând suferi, am intrat înăuntru în Biserică şi m-am dus aproape de Împăratul şi căzând la picioarele Lui, cu îndrăzneală Le-am îmbrăţişat şi Le-am sărutat mult timp. Şi sufletul meu era cu desăvârşire lipit de Dânsul şi nu mai puteam să mă mai ridic de jos. Atunci a zis împăratul către povăţuitorul meu: „Gheorghe, ia-l şi mergeţi ca să se mai nevoiască, să câştige dragostea Mea pe care a pierdut-o şi să se gătească. Şi când va fi voia Mea, Eu o să-l învrednicesc să bea şi paharul!”
Atunci, povăţuitorul apucându-mă de mâna dreaptă, m-a întors înapoi şi făcând amândoi câte trei metanii Împăratului, închinându-ne picioarelor Lui, am ieşit din Biserică şi s-a închis uşa. Atunci am văzut eu pe oamenii cei mai sus zişi, care erau în sală, că au venit să ne întâmpine şi, căutând spre mine cu faţa veselă, mi-au zis: „Frate, sileşte-te, căci iată, te aşteptăm!
Şi ieşind din sală am venit în curte şi am stat puţin. Apoi am zis către povăţuitorul meu: „Sfinte Gheorghe, iubite frate, nu se poate să nu mai mergem în lume, ci să rămânem aici?” Şi îmi zise: „Aşa este voia Domnului ca să mergem înapoi în lume să te găteşti cu tot felul de fapte bune, păzind toate poruncile Lui. Să te ispiteşti ca aurul în topitoare şi aşa să vii aici. Şi de nu vei face aşa, ci vei rămânea în lenevire, ai văzut valea care primeşte pe cei leneşi şi păcătoşi? Păzeşte-te şi-ţi adu aminte câte ai văzut şi câte ai auzit, din multa şi nemărginita milă a lui Dumnezeu, către om”.
Apoi am mers puţin şi am ieşit afară din palat şi făcându-ne trei cruci în poartă, am început a merge pe acel frumos câmp. Şi mergând puţin am văzut iarăşi ceata aceea cu puţini călugări, care avea slava cea mare. Şi m-am uitat să văd dacă cumva voi cunoaşte pe vreunul dintr-înşii. Şi nu am cunoscut pe nici unul.
Deci, săvârşindu-se câmpul, am ieşit afară de poartă şi am venit în vârful muntelui celui înalt. Şi am stat şi aici puţin, privind în toate părţile muntelui care era împodobit cu o mulţime de măslini. Iar locul acela era foarte veselitor, numai că se vedea şi acea glodoasă şi întunecoasă vale. Frică şi cutremur aducea celui ce o vedea.
Apoi ne-am pogorât din munte şi povăţuitorul meu mi-a zis: „Dă-mi mâna”! Şi i-am dat-o. Şi, ţinându-mă de mână, iarăşi ne-am suit pe acea punte înfricoşată şi am mers fără frică sau temere. Şi când am ajuns la mijlocul ei, povăţuitorul meu a stat, şi-a întors faţa spre mine şi mi-a zis: „Fratele meu iubit, împărăţia Cerurilor se sileşte şi silitorii o răpesc pe ea! Iată, ai văzut milostivirea lui Dumnezeu. Să nu te arăţi nemulţumitor faţă de Făcătorul tău de bine, Dumnezeu. Nevoieşte-te să câştigi dragostea Lui. Găteşte-te ca să bei paharul. Şi darul lui Dumnezeu şi al Preasfintei Născătoarei de Dumnezeu nu te va lăsa sărman, nici eu nu te voi lăsa singur”. Apoi, făcând de trei ori semnul cinstitei cruci pe faţa mea a zis: „Preasfântă Născătoare de Dumnezeu, ajută robului tău”! Şi s-a făcut nevăzut. Şi nu l-am văzut unde s-a dus. Şi m-a lăsat singur la mijlocul punţii.
Atunci s-a făcut mare tunet şi tulburare din valea aceea. Şi auzeam strigări sălbatice zicând: „Acum a rămas singur, haideţi să-l surpăm jos”! Alţii ziceau: „Iată om care voieşte să treacă şi nu ştie ca avem să-l surpăm acum?” Şi scrâşneau cu dinţii lor asupra mea, strigând cu mare glas: „Să-l surpăm mai înainte de a veni Gheorghe să-l ia!” Însă nici unul n-a putut să se apropie de mine, ci numai strigări şi tulburări făceau. Iar puntea se clătina ca o frunză.
Atunci eu privind la acea adâncime, am zis: „Doamne, cine poate să ajute omul aici?” Atunci a venit glas ca de tunet şi a zis: „Faptele bune ajută omul aici. Şi de va face vreo milă Preasfânta Născătoare de Dumnezeu”. Şi după strigarea aceasta au încetat tulburările drăceşti. Şi eu am chemat ajutorul Preasfintei Născătoarei de Dumnezeu şi al Sfântului Gheorghe şi cu ajutorul lor mi-am venit întru sine-mi.
Notă: Această urmare a vedeniei stareţului Ioasaf s-a găsit în Sfântul Munte Athos la Schitul Românesc Prodromul din Mănăstirea Lavră de către părintele Ieromonah Ştefan.
(Sursa: Sf. Ioan Iacob Românul, „Din Ierihon către Sion”, Ed. Jerusalem 1999)

[Bdi]

“Nu conteaza (atit de mult) daca in ceea ce crezi / forma credintei tale / cum crezi e adevarat sau nu (fals).” [forma religiei]

[Pentru ca oricum e limitata si iluzorie / incorecta = mincinoasa, minciuna. Tine de lumea relativa, “Neti, neti !” Insa orice minciuna e cuprinsa / inclusa in Adevar, e, de fapt, Adevarul, “Iti, iti !”
“Maya e Nirvana si Nirvana e Maya.”
“La inceput muntii erau / sunt munti”. (Iti)
Apoi, muntii nu mai sunt munti. (Neti)
La sfarsit, muntii sunt (din nou) munti. (Iti)

Forma credintei / religiei e in acelasi timp si falsa (tinand de lumea relativa) si adevarata (ptca minciuna e inclusa in Adevar).]

“Ci, mai ales, faptul ca / sa crezi = starea de a crede / de credinta.” [fondul oricarei religii]
"Toate religiile sunt cai catre Dumnezeu, dar nu sunt Dumnezeu." (Ramakrishna)

V. si:
http://altmarius.ning.com/profiles/blogs/taken-istoria-lumii-dupa

[Bdi]

Pai, ce sa facem ?
Tu baga un pic mai multa rabdare sau citeste printre rinduri.
Iar eu sa bag mai mult sinteza:
1. Exista de-adevarat !
2. Merita cautat !
3. Trebuie cautare practica !

Sau:
O broasca.
Tzusti, plici.
Sunetul Linistii.

[Bdi]

Toltec wisdom.doc