Part One: In Search of Ancient Knowledge. Gurdjieff's diary
Part two: Gurdjieff and Stalin
Part Three: Gurdjieff and Badmaev
Part Four: Gurdjieff's Intimate Secrets
Part Five: Gurdjieff and the Imperial Geographical Society
Part Six: Aleister Crowley and Gurdjieff
Part Seven: Gurdjieff's Mystical Journey to the Throne of Genghis Khan
Before reading the diary of Georgy Ivanovich Gurdjieff further, you need to understand what exactly happened to Aleister Crowley (Arthur Kraline). Where did he disappear exactly? As it turned out, no less mystical story happened to him than to Georgy Ivanovich Gurdjieff. This is how Igor Aleksandrovich Minutko tells about this story in his book “George Gurdjieff. Russian Lama :
Promotional video:
December 9, 1901
“In the morning Arthur Kraline woke up from a delicate floral scent tickling his nostrils. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing - the shepherd's hut, in which he and Arseny Bolotov spent the night, was immersed in darkness, only a narrow strip formed between the window and the blanket with which it was covered was dimly glowing, and this meant that the sun would soon rise …
The scent around Arthur Kralain thickened. "Why does it smell like that?" - the "merchant from Cologne" thought with curiosity and without any fear. He didn’t know much about flowers and didn’t know he could smell the scent of lilacs. As for fear, this feeling was unknown to him from birth. Only the instinct of self-preservation could cause in him what is called by this word. Now the powerful instinct was silent: nothing threatened the life of Mr. Arthur Kraline. However, a feeling arose: besides the leader of the apparently collapsed expedition behind the throne of Genghis Khan, who was peacefully snoring in the dark, there was someone else in the hut …
“It” is already here,”thought Arthur Kraline, experiencing first of all a burning curiosity. And at the same instant, an invisible force easily tore him off the bedding, squeezed him into a ball, bringing his knees to his chin, turned him several times in the air, and in an incomprehensible way Arthur Kraline found himself outside, for a few moments motionlessly hovered over the roof of the hut and felt the sharp fresh coolness of the early morning mountain air. In these few moments he managed to see that it was really dawn: the eastern edge of the sky above the mountain ranges turned into a deep purple color; in the valley, strewn with large bizarre boulders, the night still lay, but four horses were visible, huddled near the hut, and their heads were lifted up - the animals, frozen, were looking at him.
Arthur Kraline did not have time to be surprised - an invisible vortex movement began around him, intensifying with every second, although he himself was still hanging motionless in place; a buzzing sound appeared. The feeling of morning coolness disappeared, the light breeze no longer touched the face. Around Arthur Kraline, a kind of deaf enclosed space appeared, in which, now barely perceptible, streams of the scent of blooming lilacs hovered weightlessly. "Be free," sounded in his mind.
Arthur Kraline unclenched his hands, his legs straightened themselves, he smoothly, easily swam a meter or two, and suddenly his head touched a certain obstacle, an invisible wall. He stretched out his arms to the sides, and the right one rested against a smooth, elastic, but perfectly transparent wall; Arthur Kraline still clearly and distinctly saw the hut beneath him, the horses, a valley strewn with boulders going to the flaring horizon. Arthur Kraline, pushing off from an invisible transparent wall, easily floated along it, sliding his hand over the smooth substance, and very soon returned to its original place: under it was the same edge of the roof of the hut. “I’m in a huge egg,” Mr. Arthur Kraline thought with surprise and interest. “Or in a cocoon, the walls of which are invisible and transparent. I wonder what material …”A sharp jolt threw Arthur Kraline aside, he hit an invisible transparent wall,she bent soundlessly, but tightly, sprung, threw the air traveler back.
At that moment, Arthur felt that the cocoon rushed forward with a hurricane speed, his ears filled, blood rushed to his head, his eyelids swelled, he was pressed against the wall and seemed to be flattened. But this state lasted, perhaps, two or three seconds, no more. Now Arthur Kraline, freely floating inside the cocoon, heard only a steady whistle, he felt the frantic speed with which he was rushing somewhere, only visually: the earth was carried back far below him. The sweet aroma around Arthur Kraline was even and constant, now it did not hover in streams, but as if froze as a single, motionless, homogeneous mass.
There was no time, and Arthur Kraline did not know how long his flight had already lasted. Gradually he was possessed by a dream, sweet bliss …
And suddenly … The movement stopped, froze, the cocoon shook, rocked from side to side. Dull thuds were heard on the invisible wall from the outside. An indistinct grinding, short flashes outside, then scarlet, then bright blue, a hum … Animal fear gripped Arthur Kraline's heart - the instinct of self-preservation told him that now he could die: there, in the sky, above the earth, there is a battle for him, and he may become a victim of this occult battle of white and black magic forces. However, our secondary, but important hero did not think in these categories. This is the author of the paradoxical narrative came to his aid.
Suddenly everything there, in the starry space, calmed down, and for a few moments there was absolute silence around Arthur Kraline, but after the shock, movement resumed, at first smoothly, carefully, then faster and faster … And again - a hurricane, incredible speed. But one thing Arthur Kraline realized: the direction of the flight had changed. It is impossible to say exactly how, but he determined, was absolutely convinced: "they" - or "those" (those who are now his masters) - assigned a new "destination." Another event happened: the smell of lilacs disappeared. And another appeared. The "heavenly wanderer" knew him well, doing pyrotechnics, inventing various fireworks in his homeland, in distant England; he knew the smell of sulfur.
And again the time has failed. How long did the flight last after the course changed? Unknown … But Arthur Kraline felt that the cocoon was decreasing. It became hard to breathe again, ears were blocked, blood was pounding in the temples, these blows kept accelerating, the eyelids swelled … Sharp braking! It was torn away from the wall, released, and it spun around its own axis in the very center of the transparent capsule, behind the invisible walls of which there was - in a short moment Arthur Kraline saw - blackness …
A clear blow against the firmament, but silent. However, something broke, collapsed - it seemed like the fragments scattered noiselessly around and melted away. Arthur Kraline lightly hit the rocky ground through which the wet grass was breaking through - his hands frantically grabbed it. The smell of warm earth hit my nostrils. He lay on his stomach, his head buried in the grass and in small stones, did not dare to move, poorly aware of what had happened to him.
If he had been told that his air travel lasted six seconds of earth time, he would never have believed … Moreover, Arthur Kraline could not understand where he was and what happened to him. He remembered how a pleasant scent tickled his nostrils when he woke up in the hut where he had spent the night with Arseny Bolotov. And one more thing: a narrow strip of light appeared between the window frame and the blanket with which it was covered. What next?
“I also thought:“It's already morning”. And what? Fall asleep again? " Everything that happened next disappeared in the mind of Arthur Kraline, was erased from memory - without a trace … "Get up!" - sounded imperiously in his mind. The legs did not obey, he simply did not feel them; at the first step, his knees buckled, and he almost fell. “We need to stand a little without moving,” he ordered himself and looked around.
It was night. Here, where he got, it was still night, Or maybe "already"?.. Eyes gradually got used to the darkness. An almost sheer cliff towered before him. To his right, fifty meters away, Arthur Kraline saw a bright spot - a small fire and, not experiencing the slightest fear, with incorrect, but gradually strengthening steps, went to it.
There were two people by the fire: an old man was squatting, and the flames illuminated his wrinkled, dark face; next to him stood a man in a long red robe, with a hood that almost covered his face. He had two torches in his hands. One of them burned brightly and silently. As soon as Arthur Kraline approached the fire, the old man got up, and the man in red lit a second torch from the fire and handed it to the old man. The elder with an imperious gesture ordered Arthur Kraline to follow him. They walked a dozen or two steps along the cliff, and all three were at the entrance to the cave.
The first man in a red robe dived into the black mouth. The old man gestured to Arthur Kraline to follow him, and he himself entered the cave last. In the wrong light of the torches, stone vaults were visible, which either disappeared into black darkness, then moved almost close. Sometimes bats flew past with a squeak, almost touching their faces. And they go, go …
Suddenly the stone vaults disappeared, the darkness around them became limitless, the footsteps were carried away by the echo. But then there was a light ahead, it became brighter and brighter. And Arthur Kraline sees a big fire ahead.
Three travelers approach him. Several elders in white robes are sitting around the fire. One of them, the oldest, with thick and completely gray hair, sat in an inlaid ebony chair. The rest - five or six of them - are sitting right on the ground, cross-legged in Turkish style.
Everyone was silent for a while.
“We were expecting you, Aleister Crowley,” the old man, who was sitting in an armchair, broke the silence; he spoke the purest, even too correct English. - We all know about you. You are one of those, very few, who are given to command people, penetrating into the abyss of their instincts, and control them. You may or may not be. It will only depend on you …
“What should be done,” the future “greatest magician of the twentieth century” interrupted furiously to become?
- We are not mistaken about you, Aleister Crowley! - The eyes of the old man flashed with greenish fire, and he lowered his gaze. - A great mission is entrusted to you. If you do it …
- I'll do it! He interrupted.
- Do you know everything about the throne of Genghis Khan?
- Yes! Arseny Bolotov told me about him, with whom …
“We know that,” the elder interrupted Aleister Crowley. “And he told you about who should be given the power of Genghis Khan's throne when he is found?
- Yes, he told me everything. The throne of Genghis Khan will become the main exhibit of the museum of Peter Alexandrovich Badmaev …
- No, Aleister Crowley! - the elder interrupted.- It is meant for another person. For the one who is appointed by Providence on Earth, mired in human vices and depravity, to create a society of free, strong and happy people, united by the laws of a new order. And to him, our chosen one, you will hand over the power of the throne of Genghis Khan!
- I'm ready! I'm ready to do it! - passionately exclaimed a recent air wanderer, who, however, knew nothing about his own journey in the "cocoon". - But … But where is Genghis Khan's throne?
- Here, Aleister Crowley … This is the first half of your difficult, responsible mission. Only one person knows the path to the throne of Genghis Khan - the one you call Arseny Bolotov. He will always strive for it and in the end he will find it. And when he is very close to his goal, you need to seize the initiative, the throne of Genghis Khan should fall into your hands!
- But how do I know?..
You will know, - interrupted the owner of the dark space. “When Arseny Bolotov is next to the throne of Genghis Khan, we will find you.” A barely noticeable smile flashed across the face of the owner of the dark space, “as we have now found. You will get everything you need. From now on, you must always be ready and wait for our sign.
- I will wait day and night! Every day and every night!
- You need to remember someone …
A man in a red cloak with a hood that covered his face came closer to the fire.
- Here it is.
The man threw back his hood, and Aleister Crowley almost cried out in disgust: a noseless mask was looking at him, the skin was bumpy, with white spots - clearly traces of burns; instead of the left eye - a bulging dead thorn. But the second eye was sharp-sighted, gloomy, full of hypnotic power.
“He will be our sign,” said the lord of darkness.
“Okay… I'll remember him.
“And when you have completed the first half of your mission and the throne of Genghis Khan will be in your hands, the time will come for the second half of the destiny sent down to you, to hand over the throne of Genghis Khan to the one who, by the right of the Supreme Destiny, is called to receive his power. And after this historic act, which will determine the fate of all mankind for the next century, your mission will be completed and you will receive the power over people promised to you today.
- But who is the person to whom I have to hand over the throne? How do I know?..
- Now you will see him.
Suddenly everything changed. In a second - or a split second - the fire went out, and only at that moment Aleister Crowley realized that the silently burning fire did not emit absolutely any heat - after all, it was standing next to the bright white tongues of flame, they had just burned near him, and now their no, but the feeling is the same: the body is immersed in coolness.
Absolute darkness swallowed everyone: the elders at the fire, and Aleister Crowley, and his entourage. Deep in the black space, a huge white square appeared. It gradually filled with a bluish light. And it was as if a living image emerged from the depths of this square: a gigantic oblong bowl, flooded with a vaguely stirring human mass. The raised, gently sloping edges of the bowl seemed to represent the tribunes (or boxes), also filled with people. The vibes of a certain ecstasy, excitement, delight reached Aleister Crowley from this boiling human brew, and he felt no fear or surprise, but only burning interest; my heart was beating evenly and strongly. The foreboding overwhelmed the future black magician: now something will happen …
And the living picture began to quickly enlarge, everything that did not fit into the blue square disappeared. To Aleister Crowley, whose gaze seemed to rush rapidly over the heads of people inside the bowl, who were silently shouting something with their arms thrown up and at an angle, a tribune was approaching, on which, against the background of three panels depicting kabbalistic swastikas, a giant eagle spread its wings, turning its head with a predatory beak to the right, - and on this podium stood the man who was making a speech, gesturing passionately, recklessly.
A living portrait approached, approached … A head turned up, a round open, something screaming mouth, a short black mustache under a large wide nose, a black lock of hair falls on a narrow forehead. Now he will tilt his head and he will be able to see his eyes …
- It's him, Alistair. Remember it!
December 24, 1901
The weather was perfect in London on Christmas Eve. Yesterday evening a warm wind blew from the sea, carrying the breath of the Gulf Stream and light fogs. And now it was completely calm, a light blue haze froze over the city, and the sun was floating in it like yolk; seagulls were flying over the Thames, and from the window at which the head of the Admiralty stood, the birds looked like white scraps of paper, fluttering over the gray water surface.
It was seven minutes to ten. The work morning was just beginning. The owner of a huge office, furnished with antique Victorian furniture, saw a cab, looking like a large black beetle from above, stopped at the cast-iron gate of the Admiralty, and a slender man in a long dark gray coat appeared on the pavement and held out his hand. Leaning on her, a woman in a wide hat with a veil easily fluttered out of the cab. “Arrived! But why a lady? Strange … However, maybe it's not him? The owner of the office walked leisurely from the window to the desk, made himself comfortable in his chair and waited.
The door opened, an elderly secretary appeared and said:
- Mr. Aleister Crowley is in the waiting room.
- Please, Charles.
Aleister Crowley had a quick, silent walk. Approaching the writing table, he smiled with restraint, and, peering into the visitor's face, the head of the Admiralty managed to think: “Something has changed in him … Has become stronger. Or tensed."
- Hello, your lordship! - At that moment, the large grandfather clock began to strike ten in the morning. - Today I am accurate and I like myself. - The guest unceremoniously held out his hand (although according to etiquette it would be necessary to wait for this gesture of greeting to be offered to him). - Glad to see you …
“Mutually.” The handshake was quick, firm, energetic. “Have a seat, Mr. Aleister Crowley. You look wonderful. And they got tanned as if they had been under the tropical colonial sun.
“Almost so, Your Grace. I was returning home by sea from Karachi. I had to take part in an expedition to Tibet …
- Behind the throne of Genghis Khan? - interrupted the owner of the office.
- Exactly.
- Perfectly! And what are the results?
- None. Most likely, the throne of Genghis Khan is a legend. ” Aleister Crowley looked straight, calmly into the eyes of the owner of the office, and this inexorable, something concealing in itself confused, something dangerous, alarming was in him. “Acquired quite recently,” thought the head of the Admiralty.
- The results are different. - Clicked the lock of the briefcase with which the guest came, a rather thick sealed envelope appeared on the table. - Here is my report. Everything is set out in it in detail, including what, through the efforts of Mr. Badmaev, Russia is planning in the East. My suggestion is to stop this dangerous activity. As an addition to the main report, there are two letters addressed to the abbots of Buddhist monasteries in China and Tibet. Samples. Mr. Badmaev sent similar letters to many monasteries. I don't know their content, but I guess what they say.
- What delicacy! - exclaimed the owner of the office. - Have you looked into the letters? The voice was filled with playful irony.
- I looked, - Aleister Crowley grinned openly and bitterly. - But I do not speak Chinese or Tibetan.
- We will translate them, - the statesman hastily began to speak, - we will study and discuss your report in the most detailed way. Contact with specialists may be needed. Surely questions will arise …
- I am at your service.
- And now, Mr. Aleister Crowley, if possible, in a nutshell: what are they up to there?
- In a nutshell, - frank irony and superiority sounded in the voice of the visitor, - Russia is engaged not only in conquering markets in Mongolia, China and Tibet … Here you can add Korea. Russian economic expansion to these countries is in full swing according to a clear, detailed plan and is heavily funded by the Russian government …
- I said, I warned! - burst out from the head of the Admiralty.
“However, this is not the danger. The main danger lies elsewhere. Mr. Badmaev developed a plan to seize the eastern neighbors …
- What?!.
“Yes, yes, Your Grace. Capture! Mongolia - completely. Tibet too. Well, China … This is how much you can bite off.
- War? the owner of the office interrupted in extreme excitement.
- Not. The plan provides for peaceful accession. But with the participation of military force. I've detailed everything in my report. ” Aleister Crowley glanced openly at his watch.
- We must act immediately! - The dignitary banged his fist on the table. - Immediately!
- I agree. And here there is one, in my deep conviction, a win-win move.
- I am listening really carefully.
- Japan is extremely concerned about Russian activity in the East, which has its own age-old experiences there. I think you will agree with me: our interests are in China and Korea … Let's leave Tibet and Mongolia aside for now. There, our interests also collide with those of Japan. I'm not wrong?
- No, you are not mistaken!
- So, you can kill two birds with one stone.
- What do you have in mind?
- We need to confront Japan with Russia in a military conflict.
- But how? - exclaimed the owner of the office.
Aleister Crowley smiled.
-There is everything for this. The conflict is ripe. You just need to push a stone off the mountain. In my report, I offer a scheme for our actions. I designed it in detail.
- Perfectly! Fine … Mr. Aleister Crowley, I thought you arrived with a lady?
“Yes, it is, Your Grace. I got married. The young wife did not let me go alone, I left her in the waiting room.
- Congratulations, Mr. Aleister Crowley! And in that case, I dare not delay. Frankly, I can't wait to study your report.
- Goodbye, Your Grace!
- I am convinced that our new date will take place very soon.
“I just don’t doubt it”!
Mr. Aleister Crowley was inaccurate: in December 1901, a young lady in a wide-brimmed hat with a veil, emerging from a cab on the Thames embankment after an undercover agent of the Admiralty and Scotland Yard, was only his bride. Her name was Rose Kelly, she was the sister of a famous English artist. The official engagement will take place in 1903. In the meantime, Rosa Kelly follows her beloved everywhere, and the "Beast" calls her "the harlot in purple" - this will be the name of all women, and their name is legion, who will unite their lives, at least for a short time, with "the greatest magician of the twentieth century."
And in this part of the biographical note about Mr. Aleister Crowley we will talk about "his" women. But this, perhaps, is very delicately said, because Aleister Crowley himself spoke about women like this:
"They are only good for being a convenient thing, brought in from the back door like milk."
Nevertheless, Aleister Crowley felt an ineradicable and constant need for them. But the fair sex also felt an irresistible attraction to him.
During his stormy life, the powerful magician had two official wives, and crowds, hosts of mistresses (and sometimes lovers appeared for the sake of a whim and "for a change").
So, 1903, engagement to Rose Kelly. Aleister Crowley's companion at this time was a flirtatious, very attractive young widow. She was engaged to two gentlemen at once, who, naturally, did not know about the existence of the "triangle". And, having looked closely, having estimated all the pros and cons, the widow did not want to marry any of them. At this point, the brilliant Aleister Crowley in a black dress coat and with a red carnation in his buttonhole emerged from the mysterious fog: “I will rescue you from your predicament, incomparable! Here's my hand! But our marriage, if you agree, will be calculated. " Rose Kelly agreed and immediately after a noisy wedding in a bohemian company, not constrained by prejudices, she turned into a "harlot in purple" - by analogy with the Wife from the Apocalypse. The new name was shocking, but also exciting at the same time.
At first, young - what banal and eternal words! - were happy. But soon the "fog of love" cleared away. Rosa Kelly's first child died of typhoid fever in 1906 while the couple were traveling across Asia. The next year, a girl was born, who was named Lola. Lola Zaza - under this name she lived her difficult life.
According to Aleister Crowley, it was at this time that Rose Kelly was already drinking at least a bottle of whiskey a day. And no wonder! A few months after the birth of the daughter of the great magician on a mountain peak in Morocco, a revelation came to him: “like a flash of lightning,” the connection between sex and magic was revealed to him. He did not hide his personal life from his wife, in which this connection was embodied in practice: he brought regular mistresses ("sisters", "harlots in purple") to his house, making "occult love" with them in front of his wife.
In 1909, Rose Kelly and Aleister Crowley parted ways.
Having finally become an alcoholic, Rose Kelly in 1911 ended up in an insane asylum, where her days ended.
Well, what about our gloomy character? He is true to himself: colorful swarms of dazzling butterflies fly to the fire of his unfading heart blazing with passion - tens, hundreds over the years. Yes, some of them, left by the "Beast of the Apocalypse", will die from drinking or drugs, someone will commit suicide, someone will lose their minds. But this, excuse me, is their problem. Isn't that right, Mr. Aleister Crowley?
If you follow the chronology, it is interesting to mention one fleeting romance of the "black sorcerer and wizard", which broke out on the eve of the First World War, and the place of its action was, imagine, Russia.
In short, the story is as follows. Mr. Aleister Crowley - not for long, it is true - practiced sex magic with Isadora's companion Duncan Marie Deste Stengees, and with her arrived in Moscow in 1913. They brought a choir of girls to the second capital of the Russian Empire. Moscow, with its cabs, golden domes and bell ringing, our hero fell in love with at first sight and called it "hashish dream." In a semi-basement cafe on the Arbat, he met a Romanian aristocrat - her name could not be established - and had a frantic connection with her. She was, according to Aleister Crowley's definition, "a real hungry female leopard" - to achieve orgasm, a young woman had to be beaten and tortured. And although the Romanian woman did not speak any of the European languages, and the "great magician" did not know Romanian, they perfectly understood each other. In Moscow, Mr. Aleister Crowley experienced a creative upsurge. He loved to visit the Hermitage garden and here, in the Aquarium cafe, he wrote many beautiful, as the maestro himself considered, poetic short stories, as well as a poem dedicated to Moscow - "City of God".
The most resilient and resilient of Mr. Aleister Crowley's mistresses was Leah Hirsing, the schoolteacher whom The Beast met in New York in 1918. She followed him to Paris, then to Sicily, to the Cefala farm. There, the forerunner of occult sex was founded "Thelem Abbey", which, with the author's help, may still get curious readers. In this refuge of the adept of the new magical "faith" Leah Hirsing began to run the household with her friend Nanette Shumway. By that time, Aleister Crowley and Leah Hirsing had a daughter, who received the name Poupe, and Shumway was listed as her nanny.
Naturally, Mr. Aleister Crowley identified Nanette Shumway as his "younger wife," and she, of course, came to be called the "harlot in purple." In a word, it was love in three, and it cannot be said that such a "family life" brought happiness: Nanette Shumway competed with Leah Hirsing for the favor of Mr. Aleister Crowley, little Poupe died, Leah Hirsing's second pregnancy ended in miscarriage. But Nanette Shumway was relieved of the burden safely and gave the father of this strange family a son. But even in this painful environment, Leah Hirsing remained in control, guided by common sense, responding to Mr. Aleister Crowley with good deeds for sexual perversion.
The Sicilian authorities, who became aware of the unbridled orgies in the "Thelem Abbey" with animal sacrifices, in 1924 expelled the magician from the island. Leah Hirsing shared his fate with Mr. Aleister Crowley, following him, and for almost two more years she patiently endured the presence of the new mistresses of the "Beast-666" next to her. Mr. Aleister Crowley fled from her with another woman in 1925. For some time there was a correspondence between them. But in 1930, Leah Hirsing, abandoning the role of "harlot in purple", returned to America and went about her former business - she taught literature at school. Leah Hirsing died in 1951, having outlived the sex magician by four years. Leah Hirsing was the only woman among the rest of the "harlots in purple" whose life ended well (if natural death can be called that word).
1929 year. An unexpected step of the already pretty shabby, but still indefatigable mystical Don Juan: a second marriage. The wife of Mr. Aleister Crowley this time becomes a sultry beauty from Nicaragua. Her name was Maria de Miramar, she was a wealthy lady who received a decent inheritance, and, most likely, this is the reason for the second legal marriage of our hero. But you should not paint the "family happiness" of this woman with a black magician: it is even more terrible than that of Rose Kelly. The life of Marie de Miramar also ended in an insane asylum a few years after her marriage.
1934 year. Lonely, suddenly frighteningly thinner over the past few months - the result of excessive drug use - Mr. Aleister Crowley slowly wanders down a London street. Yes, thin, its former beauty faded, a bald skull hung over the sunken eye sockets. But still, something majestic, mysterious is present in the appearance of this gentleman in a black coat and white scarf, with an open head - attracting and attracting women. And from the opposite side of the street, a nineteen-year-old girl, marked by a quiet Scandinavian beauty, rushes to him, grabs his hands with the first age spots on his aging skin. "I want … - she whispers hotly, - I want to have a child from you!"
And she becomes another mistress of the "Beast-666", "a harlot in purple." As a result, a boy is born. Neither the name of this woman, nor her name, or rather, their son's, will be named: the boy grew up, turned into a respectable master; now, in our days, he is a rather famous person, a representative of the elite of English society. He “does not remember” his mother: she was still a very young woman in a psychiatric hospital, and her further fate is unknown.
Such are, naturally superficially reproduced, the love affairs of the "greatest magician of the twentieth century," Mr. Aleister Crowley. Such is the "landscape" on the field of occult sex, which the mystical Casanova sowed with his poisonous seeds …
Are you satisfied, Mr. Aleister Crowley, with the results achieved? Respond from those depths of hell in which you are sure to be.
Doesn't respond. Long away. Hard. Silence…
But enough of writing about Mr. Aleister Crowley. It’s time to look again at the diary entries of Georgy Ivanovich Gurdjieff. It was his turn. So, I now give him the floor. Further in the diary of Georgy Ivanovich Gurdjieff it says:
May 1906
“Five years have passed. On that hot May morning, I woke up at the Kandahar Hotel, located in the heart of the city, in a noisy dusty square. The window of my wretched room with a low bed and a pile of felt mats instead of a table looked out into a dark courtyard, completely naked as a place of execution; it was fenced off from neighboring houses by a high earthen wall. An illusory impression of security, isolation from the outside world was created.
But when I woke up, I understood, I felt: today, maybe now, in a few minutes I will be overtaken by THAT, from which I tried to escape, that I tried to reject from myself for the last six years.
I lay on my bed and watched, fascinated, as the cross-shaped shadow from the window frame crept up to a jug of water, for some reason I had left in the middle of the room. "The shadow will touch the jug, and then …" I was numb: the inevitable was approaching. And all these years I fled from the throne of Genghis Khan. Rather, I made constant efforts to deny myself the need to receive it. That is, to fulfill your Purpose.
Purpose … Five years ago, by chance (accidentally … There are no accidents in the Universe, there are never!), Finding myself in the house of the Sufi Sheikh Ul Mohammed Daul, I already realized what power lies in the throne of Genghis Khan. No, not then! I began to understand this much earlier. Feel. During the expedition, which began in Chita and ended so tragically and inexplicably, the understanding of WHAT I was looking for was already final. As well as the understanding of the inevitable: I cannot dodge the fulfillment of my Destiny …
And yet I tried to wrest my “I” out of the vicious circle (or maybe a square; in which of the four corners is my own salvation?). From the house of the white sheikh my Sufi wanderings began.
Even in our first meeting with Ul Mohammed Daul, during a long journey with Sarkis Poghosyan (it turns out that even then his goal was the throne of Genghis Khan, although I did not know this), the seeds of Sufism fell into my unprepared soul, and it turned out for them fertile. And our second meeting with the sheikh determined my entire further path in this life: the Sufi faith, or rather, the Sufi attitude, behavior in life, designed to lead me in the end to enlightenment, to merging with the highest wisdom of the Cosmos, had by this time - to May in the morning of 1906 in Kandahar - a concrete result: I became a different person, and gradually began to open to me what allowed me to create my Institute of a Harmonious Person.
And yet - at last I must make this confession! - my secret hope in the first years of wandering through the labyrinths of Sufi wisdom was a passionate desire to get rid of heavy addiction, enclosed in a cursed map with a route to the Fifth Tower of Shambhala …
“Sufis,” I conjured, wandering from country to country, from Teacher to Teacher, “help! Enlighten: what to do? How to proceed? Deliver me from the map, the throne of Genghis Khan, from the need to fulfill the Destiny!.."
Maybe the Sufi knowledge that I received in those years was insufficient? Or was I not entitled to demand from them the fulfillment of selfish desires? But they belonged only to me! I did not dare to express them to any of the sheikhs - Sufis, my Teachers!.."
Let us digress somewhat from the diary of Georgy Ivanovich Gurdjieff in order to explain to the reader what Sufism really is. Without this, it is difficult to imagine not only Gurdjieff's worldview, but also his worldview, philosophy and outlook on life in general.
SUFISM
The word itself has Arabic roots - "wool", "wearing woolen clothes". Sufism is a mystical-ascetic movement in Islam, which originated in the middle of the 8th - early 9th centuries on the territory of modern Iraq and Syria among wandering storytellers and preachers, participants in the border wars with Byzantium, they accepted mere mortals into their ranks - artisans, merchants, partly also Christians who converted to Islam. In different eras, Sufism was spread from North-West Africa to the northern outskirts of China and Indonesia.
In general, Sufism is characterized by a combination of idealistic metaphysics (Metaphysics is the opposite of dialectics: a method in the study of animate and inanimate nature, based on an unshakable given (this is how it was, and it will continue to be so), when the eternal aspects of Nature are studied in isolation from each other) with a special ascetic practice, the doctrine of the gradual approach of the adept (disciple) through the mystical love for the knowledge of God, the important role of the spiritual mentor (sheikh, murshid, piru), leading the adept along the path to the highest truth. Hence the desire of the Sufis for intuitive knowledge, enlightenment, ecstasy, comprehended through special dances or repeated repetition of monotonous formulas, mortification of the flesh of the adept.
In the teachings of Sufism there are, as it were, several foundations laid by its different creators and at different times, but interpenetrating and enriching each other. One of these foundations is the theory of self-observation over the relationship between a person's actions and his innermost intentions in order to achieve the highest sincerity before God, which was opposed to the hypocrisy and ostentatious piety of the clergy. Another basis of Sufism is the doctrine of the instant illumination of a Sufi on the path to God, which provides for inner purification (Malamatiya school, Nishapur, IX century). Another Sufi basis is the doctrine of Fana (the Baghdad school of Junayda): the mystical dissolution of the Sufi in God, leading to super-existence (baka) - eternity in the absolute.
All the foundations of Sufism ultimately, only in different interpretations, are reduced to three stages by which the Sufi comes to the final goal: the first stage of the mystical path is Sharia, that is, the general Muslim religious law; the second is tarikat: the Sufi personal path of everyone to the absolute through the ordinary life of people, from which in no case should one be fenced off, "go into a cave or into the desert", but participate in it in a specific deed, having mastered one or several professions to perfection, and doing the work to preach Sufi truths among the people; finally, the third stage, hakikat - the mystical comprehension of the Truth in God, when the spirit of the Sufi “throws off the chains of plurality” inherent in matter and comes to union with the absolute, that is, becomes immortal.
In the XII-XIII centuries, a Sufi brotherhood began to take shape, partly similar to the Christian monastic orders, although less strictly organized.
Over the next centuries, Sufism, having turned into a kind of official Islam, becomes an influential religion in the countries of the Near and Far East, its symbols, images, worldview permeate religious and secular poetry at the heights of its achievements - Rumi, Hafiz, Jami, Ansari and others.
In 2016 in Russia in the publishing house "Algorithm" (Moscow), a book was published by Ruslan Vladimirovich Zhukovets - a psychotherapist engaged in spiritual practices, who has long followed the Sufi Path of comprehending the Truth, the author of 12 books "Great mystics as they are." In the chapter "The Riddle of George Gurdjieff," the author writes:
“No matter how strange things Gurdjieff says about himself and no matter how he obscures his past, it is quite obvious that he received his main training from the Sufis. The Fourth Way was built according to the principles of the Sufi Work, albeit with an adjustment for the uniqueness of Gurdjieff's approach. But the Sufi Path does not imply the creation of ashrams, communities or monasteries in which people live and work constantly. It takes place in the midst of everyday life, where the seeker learns both patience and acceptance, as well as discovering the Divine Presence and manifestations of God's Will. Sufi work is not carried out in conditions of artificially created isolation of its participants, although sometimes, of course, they can retire in order to perform some kind of practice that requires it …
Idris Shah said that Gurdjieff studied with the Sufis but never completed his studies. However, this does not mean that Gurdjieff did not maintain contact with certain Sufi circles and that his Work was completely independent and carried out by him at his own peril and risk. In the same "Tales of Beelzebub" there are passages indicating that Gurdjieff was familiar with such aspects of the Sufi Work that none of his disciples can tell us about, because this Work is carried out in secret. And only those who took part in it can know about it, so the situation with Gurdjieff is even more complicated than it seems at first glance.
For example: Gurdjieff could not finish his studies with the Sufis precisely because he ceased to need him, or because further advancement within the framework of the version of Sufism that he was given became impossible. Let's not forget that different orders in Sufism have different, so to speak, "specialization", and the unique existence of Gurdjieff could only to a certain extent fit into the requirements for the students of Sufis. He was too strong, and besides, he had the transmission of uvaysi - that is, he received knowledge by mystical means from one of the formerly deceased Sufis. That is why Gurdjieff might not have completed the standard stages of Sufi education - because in some ways he already surpassed his possible teachers. Raphael Lefort's book "Teacher of Gurdjieff" is clearly a forgery, so we know nothing of his true teachers. At the same time, Gurdjieff could well undertake the mission - to bring new knowledge to the West and see what happens. In one of his texts, he mentions that he sent more than a dozen people to some centers where they can receive the necessary training. It turns out that he himself worked with those who, in principle, were not suitable for such training …
Osho compared the position of the mystic in relation to the ordinary person as follows: the mystic sits in a tree, and the person under the tree. And thanks to his higher position, the mystic sees a wagon that appears on the road, a few minutes earlier than a person sitting under a tree. What is the future for man is already present for the mystic. Let us assume that the Sufi mystics knew about the threat of the final degradation of Sufism and were looking for ways to change this situation. In an orthodox environment, it was almost impossible to do this, because it was precisely because of her orthodoxy that he began to degenerate. Mystics are not afraid of non-standard solutions, and therefore it is quite possible that Gurdjieff was sent to the West to test the readiness of people to perceive new knowledge and new practices. Sufis were looking for new lands and new people, as Idris Shah directly spoke about,the first followers of which were the adherents of the Gurdjieff doctrine”.
Further, in the next chapter "Line of transmission", Ruslan Zhukovets writes:
“In the Sufi tradition, there are several types of transmission of spiritual (mystical) knowledge. There are transmissions by inheritance - from father to son or from father to adopted (spiritually adopted) son. Now, unfortunately, these transmissions have become the basis for the degeneration of many Sufi orders, when spiritual power is inherited without serious grounds - in the sense of the level of advancement of a son or nephew on the Path. Theoretically, the son of a Sufi Master or sheikh can walk the entire Path under the guidance of his father and take his place deservedly. But now we see a slightly different picture, where there is not a transfer of knowledge, but a transfer of power.
There is also the transfer of knowledge from the Master to the student, which takes place in the learning process, over a fairly long period of time. What can be conveyed outside of words? How can the experience of the Master be passed on to the disciple in the most complete way? To what extent does the possibility of such a transfer depend on both of them? And here is a strange answer - if the path continues until the death of the mystic, then during life it is impossible to convey all the possible completeness of experience, since something happens and is revealed almost constantly. New aspects of Truth, for example, are not subject to transfer, but new experience still comes, one way or another. Therefore, I would say this - at each stage of the Path there is the possibility of transferring experience corresponding to this stage, or, if a disciple comes when the Master has already disappeared in God, then one of the mosteffective practices of transferring experience in direct contact - disappearance in the Master. In Sufism, this practice is called "fana-fi-sheikh", and it allows the student to try to unite his being with the being of the Master, and through this connection receive the transfer of knowledge and accelerate the process of his progress on the Path.
Each stage of the Path has its own experience and knowledge. It is impossible to accommodate their entire amount at once. More precisely, it is impossible in the usual way. And the mystical possibility of transferring all experience at once - arises only when there is an urgent, urgent need for it. As a rule, it does not arise in principle with direct teaching and the constant possibility of contact with the Master. Education goes on as usual, some transmissions take place all the time, and the student is more than enough of this, especially if he is already making maximum efforts to work on himself. Therefore, there is a gradual transfer of knowledge, which everyone receives and assimilates exactly according to the readiness and need for it. In this case, there can be quite a lot of those who receive the transfer of knowledge, and it is sometimes carried out almost imperceptibly for them …
When the individual experience of the Master is obtained within the framework of following a certain Path, then the Path becomes the context in which the transmission is carried out. Then what is called the line of transmission arises, that is, a chain of succession of Knowledge and Work arises. In Sufism, the transmission line from a living Master is called silsila and is usually traced from the Prophet Muhammad and the righteous caliphs to the present day. Belonging to the line of transmission of the silsila implies obtaining permission to train people and automatically confirms the legitimacy of the actions of the sheikh or the Master. This is what is called the visible and documented line of transmission, which allows you to protect the Work from the invasion of impostors and preserve mystical knowledge. And also transfer spiritual authority to someone who truly deserves it.
Silsila - ideally - should be a mystical transmission of both experience and knowledge. Despite some bureaucracy, which is expressed in the receipt of ijaza by a newly minted mentor, the essence of the silsil must remain mystical. Ijaza - an official permission for teaching people - is drawn up in writing, and in fact is an official Sufi document that must be presented on demand and need. And the keeper and conductor of Knowledge, as I noted above, becomes a new sheikh or Master.
The Mystical Path is full of mysteries and secrets, as, in fact, our whole life. Sometimes he preserves himself, and when there is no possibility of direct transfer of knowledge during the life of the Master, this happens after his death, without long-term training of the student. The mystic who received the transmission in this way - from the spirit of a deceased person - is called uvaisi in Sufism, after the name of the one who first received it from the Prophet himself. It was Uvais al-Qarani, who never met Muhammad, but received knowledge from him. The changes that followed this transmission made such a strong impression on Uvais's contemporaries that his name became a household name, giving the name to all mystics who received knowledge in the same way.
There are examples that the phenomenon of transfer of experience from the spirit of a deceased person to the spirit of a living person (figuratively speaking) existed long before the advent of Sufism. However, it was in Sufism that most of the evidence of this transmission was preserved, and even the image of Khidr (or Khizr) appeared, which appears to Sufis when in a dream, when in reality, and instructs them, that is, teaches. Transmits knowledge …
The etheric body lives somewhat longer than the physical, the body of the mind - longer than the etheric. The mental body, being fully developed during a person's life, lasts even longer, I would say - an order of magnitude longer. Due to it, it becomes possible to transfer knowledge after the physical body of the mystic has ceased to exist. There, on the mental plane, is the transmission line of the uvaysi mystics, and not one …
If the seeker who has received the uvaysi transmission does not stop there, then at some point he surpasses the experience presented to him, gaining his own realization on the Path. Then the transfer effect ends, and the newly minted mystic follows God, developing his uniqueness in this interaction. The knowledge that he received with the transfer ceases to be very important and can even be criticized, as well as somewhat refined and supplemented. In the end, the mystic begins to rely only on his own experience, which is also subject to reevaluation at each new stage of the Path. And only later - after the mystic leaves the physical plane of our reality - it becomes possible to transfer the entire sum of this experience (or at least its main part) to the one who needs it. This is how knowledge and the line of transmission are preserved,and thus the mystical Work is renewed and maintained. Necessity drives our world, and since there is such a - fantastic from the point of view of non-mystics - line of Transmission, then the need to maintain mystical Work is so high that even the death of the Master is not an obstacle to its renewal and continuation. Apparently, the value of this Work, which is being carried out invisibly to people, is so high that the Lord - by His Grace - created opportunities for its continuation in those conditions in which it would seem that it should disappear. Therefore, the Uvaisi Line of Transmission will exist for as long as humanity will exist, and new mystics will appear as if out of nowhere, reviving and renewing the Work that was extinct. This means that the need to maintain the mystical Work is so high that even the death of the Master is not an obstacle to its renewal and continuation. Apparently, the value of this Work, which is being carried out invisibly to people, is so high that the Lord - by His Grace - created opportunities for its continuation in those conditions in which it would seem that it should disappear. Therefore, the Uvaisi Line of Transmission will exist for as long as humanity will exist, and new mystics will appear as if out of nowhere, reviving and renewing the Work that was extinct. This means that the need to maintain the mystical Work is so high that even the death of the Master is not an obstacle to its renewal and continuation. Apparently, the value of this Work, which is being carried out invisibly to people, is so high that the Lord - by His Grace - created opportunities for its continuation in those conditions in which, it would seem, it should disappear. Therefore, the Uvaisi Line of Transmission will exist for as long as humanity will exist, and new mystics will appear as if out of nowhere, reviving and renewing the Work that was extinct.it would seem that it should disappear. Therefore, the Uvaisi Line of Transmission will exist for as long as humanity will exist, and new mystics will appear as if out of nowhere, reviving and renewing the Work that had died out.it would seem that it should disappear. Therefore, the Uvaisi Line of Transmission will exist for as long as humanity will exist, and new mystics will appear as if out of nowhere, reviving and renewing the Work that had died out.
In conclusion, I will say that in Sufism there were several lineages of Uvaisi transmissions and the one to which I belong is related to the Naqshbandi order. And although it is impossible to know exactly the names of the predecessors who supported and continued this line of Transmission - of which there were many! - I know that Bahauddin himself is one of those who also belonged to it. Moreover, it was started long before him, and I do not manage to see its beginning. Similar lineages of Uvaisi transmissions were in other Sufi orders, and the transfer of experience in them bore the imprint of the peculiarities of the practices of each of them. Whether these transmission lines were interrupted, or whether they are still active, I do not know. However, it would be quite logical to assume that in the world again and again new uvaisi mystics appear from nowhere - after all, God is great, and his Grace is infinite."
Well, further, the author in general in the next chapter "I and Gurdjieff" describes an absolutely fantastic - mystical story that happened to him in life. I cite it in a strong contraction without losing its meaning. Who wants to get acquainted with it in full, I refer those readers to his book "The Great Mystics As They Are". So, I quote in full further Ruslan Zhukovets:
“Like many other seekers, I learned about Gurdjieff from Ouspensky's book In Search of the Miraculous. I read it at the beginning of 1993 and it made a very strong impression on me. First of all, of course, I was impressed by the very image of Gurdjieff, drawn by Ouspensky - the image of a man of Knowledge who has completely extraordinary views on all things; a person with incredible abilities and powers, and in general someone who is at a completely different level of being in relation to the rest. If we do not take into account the content of the teachings set forth by Ouspensky in his book, then one image of the Master was already enough to want to become as strong and wise as he was. Moreover, most of those who go to modern Gurdjieff groups or who are interested in his teachings, first of all, are drawn to the image of Gurdjieff, created by Ouspensky,and other authors of memoirs with titles like The Incomprehensible Gurdjieff. As a rule, Gurdjieff is attracted to those who are looking for strength, and to a lesser extent - those who want to create in their minds a beautiful, mystically grounded and, moreover, a consistent picture of the world. His ideas are still quite original, although (may his followers forgive me!) Are generally not very useful from a practical point of view. More precisely, attempts to apply them in practice lead people into a dead end of thinking and, in general, into endless speculation. As, in the end, it happened with Ouspensky himself. His ideas are still quite original, although (may his followers forgive me!) Are generally not very useful from a practical point of view. More precisely, attempts to apply them in practice lead people into a dead end of thinking and, in general, into endless speculation. As, in the end, it happened with Ouspensky himself. His ideas are still quite original, although (may his followers forgive me!) Are generally not very useful from a practical point of view. More precisely, attempts to apply them in practice lead people into a dead end of thinking and, in general, into endless speculation. As, in the end, it happened with Ouspensky himself.
Of course, I wanted strength. The knowledge that Ouspensky expounded was, on the whole, interesting, but a significant part of it at that time was almost of no value to me. I was looking for what every real seeker is looking for - not descriptions of the laws of the world, which, although they pressed on me, still could not do anything with them - I needed specific recipes for moving towards the state of being that Gurdjieff possessed. They were nowhere to be found, but, as I understand now, it could not be.
There are many situations and states that cannot be understood with the mind; they can only be experienced, and then the mind will select certain words to describe the experience. The belief in the power of the mind, or, if you will, reason is very common among modern atheistically conditioned people. It seems to them that it is possible to understand everything that is well explained, and therefore intellectuals usually live with the illusion of understanding with regard to inner workings and mystical experience. Both fate and Gurdjieff's experience were too unique to try to convey them in words, moreover, his Work required attention to itself, and the mystery of the Teacher and the source of the teachings were part of the plan for its implementation. It was pointless to describe the exercises that Gurdjieff did in different places under the guidance of different people because they had to be done under guidance;besides, there was still a strong tendency to hide practices and knowledge from the uninitiated. The Mystical Path was the lot of the elect, and this was emphasized by the external secrecy of the activities of the Sufi orders and the secrecy of their practices. Now many knowledge have become open, and because of this they were immediately perverted, and the mystical Path, as was the lot of the elect, remained.
At the same time, Gurdjieff was not a Teacher of the mystical Path, although, undoubtedly, he was a Master, but the purpose of his work with Western people was different. He wrote about it himself, but people are usually not inclined to take seriously what they do not like, so few people believed that his goal was to continue the study of human psychology. Western man, I will add on my own. At the same time, it cannot be said that by the time of the beginning of his Work in Russia and then in the West, Gurdjieff did not know human psychology. He understood it perfectly, which is absolutely clear from his published conversations with his students and even from the same book "In Search of the Miraculous." This means that his task was not so much the study of psychology as the study of the characteristics of the conditioning of Western people, their typical psychoemotional reactions and the possibility of working with them.
The first thing that struck me in Ouspensky's book was Gurdjieff's assertion that all people are machines. All my conditioning rebelled against this, and I still remember how intensely indignant I was for several hours in a row. When I calmed down, the truth of Gurdjieff's words suddenly opened up to me, and I seemed to see myself from the outside - a young man living in the grip of habits and neurotic reactions, inclined to be offended in every way and dependent on a variety of external influences. I realized that Gurdjieff described my situation very accurately, in which I was a prisoner of my mechanical reactions, and therefore I could well be called a machine. This discovery sobered me very much, and then I began to read with redoubled interest and diligence. Of course, Ouspensky's book contained many revelations,but the second strong impression (and extremely useful information) for me was the place where the practice of self-awareness was described. The image of a double-edged arrow pointing outward and inward at the same time helped me understand how to truly become aware of myself. Before that, I had read about mindfulness from Osho, but from what I read I could not figure out how to practice it. Ouspensky's book helped me a lot with this, and from that moment on, self-awareness (or self-remembering) became my main practice. Ouspensky's book helped me a lot with this, and from that moment on, self-awareness (or self-remembering) became my main practice. Ouspensky's book helped me a lot with this, and from that moment on, self-awareness (or self-remembering) became my main practice.
The difficulty of most seekers trying to practice mindfulness is akin to what I once experienced - not understanding. For a person accustomed to living in the mind, for whom attention has never been a separate force, a separate energy, and has always been merged with external things or internal states, it can be quite difficult to understand how to separate and divide it. It is not enough to get precise instructions, you also need to understand how to implement them in practice. This is usually the problem. Dividing and holding attention is a practical skill that, once mastered, a person can always use it. Getting out of the habitual identification with the mind can be difficult, but regular, properly performed efforts always yield results. In understanding how to act correctly, I was helped by the words of Gurdjieff, set forth by Ouspensky. The beginning of the practice of self-awareness was for me the first step towards embarking on the Path, and towards discovering it altogether.
… Even now I cannot say why Gurdjieff carried out the transfer of Knowledge to me. I, without any doubt, had a high need for spiritual guidance without any possibility of receiving it in the conditions of my then existence. I felt the need for a Teacher very keenly, but I could not find him, and I practiced from books, choosing practices at random and applying them chaotically - using either Orthodox prayers or yoga exercises. This approach could not bring tangible results, since there is no benefit from the application of practices related to different traditions and Paths, because each Path has its own egregor and its own working conditions on it, but then I also had no one to learn about it. The most tangible results came from the practice of mindfulness,but they all lay on the plane of liberation from suppression - practically on the plane of psychotherapy, which, of course, is also important, but not very helpful in finding the path to God. Apparently, the strength of my necessity created the opportunity for receiving the transmission, which led to my becoming a Uvaisi mystic.
Different mystical traditions have their own ways of transmitting spiritual Knowledge. The transmission that exists in Sufism under the name "uvaysi" is not only the transmission of Knowledge, but also the transmission of personal experience and even some qualities of the basic level of being of the mystic who performed it. The transmission itself is a purely mystical act, associated with the receipt of an energy impulse of great strength and slow action. A person who has received such a transmission is not able to assimilate it immediately, because the force of the received impulse, being released immediately, will simply kill him. Therefore, the impulse of experience and Knowledge is "absorbed" slowly, enabling the one who received it to make the discoveries initiated by him gradually. The assimilation of the received Knowledge occurs in such a way that a person begins to perceive it as his own, and not as someone else's, because the growth of understanding,coming with him, is actually his own. By the way, approximately the same thing happens when a mystic receives Divine attributes at the stage of the Sufi Path, called the inner tank - the stage of being in God.
Like many other Uvaisi mystics, I received the transmission in a dream. Sleep is a type of altered state in which a person becomes open to receive a variety of impulses from different levels of Reality, and such a state is the best fit for receiving the transmission of Uvaishi. Moreover, the very content of the dream was very simple. Gurdjieff stood in front of me, dressed in a black coat, dark trousers and black boots, and I was bending down, more precisely, falling to his feet, as is customary in the East. I did not see Gurdjieff's face in this dream, but I knew for sure that it was him. In a dream, it seemed to me that I was receiving some kind of initiation or blessing; the dream was short, and, in fact, after I prostrated to Gurdjieff, it ended. When I woke up, I did not feel anything special and did not attach any serious importance to this dream. Moreover, when the next night I did not want to sleep, and I was engaged in various creative activities until the morning, after going to work, as if nothing had happened, I also did not associate this with the dream I had the day before. I had not slept for thirty-six hours, and at the same time did not feel particularly tired, but it did not even occur to me that such a surge of energy, not at all characteristic of me, could be initiated by a dream with the presence of Gurdjieff. Which, by the way, I had never dreamed of before.not at all peculiar to me, could be initiated by a dream with the presence of Gurdjieff. Which, by the way, I had never dreamed of before.not at all peculiar to me, could be initiated by a dream with the presence of Gurdjieff. Which, by the way, I had never dreamed of before.
I must say that for several more years I did not understand what happened in June 1994, when I had a dream that affected my whole life. The first changes began two weeks later - I suddenly realized, really clearly saw that all my practices did not lead me anywhere. In addition, my spiritual ego, which I developed in myself, becoming a vegetarian and giving up smoking and alcohol, was no less clear to me. This discovery was shocking, and therefore I instantly changed my whole lifestyle, leaving the main practice to work on self-awareness and abandoning everything else. This was the first, but far from the last manifestation of the impact that the impulse to transmit uvaysi had on me, and then, somehow almost imperceptibly to myself, I began to shift towards the Sufi understanding of the Way and Work, feeling them as something quite natural to me. …
Later, I thought more than once about what would have become of me if I had not received the transmission from Gurdjieff. There is no unequivocal answer to this question, but, most likely, my search could end in nothing, and it is quite possible that the mystical part of the Path would never have been revealed to me. I would continue to cultivate a spiritual ego, poke at one practice or another and wander in the darkness of my own mind. And it is very unlikely that I would have come to Sufism, although it is absolutely impossible to say for sure about this.
… The whole Path before surrendering to the Will of God, I went mainly by practicing awareness. Mystical Knowledge of varying degrees of significance began to open to me around 1996, but it did not play any decisive importance in my practice. My level of understanding of many aspects of the mystical side of life grew, but no radical changes took place. At the same time, I did not know the stages of the classical Sufi Path, or maybe I read about them, but did not attach importance to them. The opening of the Heart was a complete surprise for me, and the opportunity to surrender to the Will was also a surprise. Now I don’t remember exactly when the essence of the dream with Gurdjieff was revealed to me, and when I realized that I had received a transmission from him that sent my whole search into a new channel. It seems that this happened after the surrender, but maybe earlier. Simultaneously with this discovery, I realized that Gurdjieff himself was a mystic uvaysi,moreover, he belonged to the Uvaisi Lineage in the Naqshbandi Tradition, although Bahauddin Naqshband himself did not at all stand at its origins. Then I began to feel a connection with this Transmission Line, and through it - with Tradition, although I could only deal with Gurdjieff himself, and with no one else.
Around 2008, I dreamed of Gurdjieff again, and I dreamed about him three nights in a row. On the first night, the dream was some kind of insignificant, and now I do not remember it at all. On the second night, the dream was strange. In it, Gurdjieff and I rode in a limousine, the kind that is usually hired for weddings, and he asked me something, and I answered him. Gurdjieff was annoyed and did not hide it. We drove together for about 20 minutes, and then he told the driver to stop and opened the car door. On the sidelines stood a gypsy ensemble, which was invited to the limousine's salon, where it immediately became crowded. Then Gurdjieff, without further ado, pushed me out of the car and the limousine drove off. It was a winter evening and I was sitting in the snow and watching the car drive away. Gurdjieff was about fifty years old in this dream.
The third dream, which I dreamed the next night, had a completely different content. Gurdjieff appeared to me as an old man, as he became in the last years of his life. It was not very cold, autumn was just beginning outside, but he was wearing a black coat and astrakhan hat. We sat on a bench near a playground and talked. Gurdjieff radiated kindness, gentleness and, I would say, love. He spoke mostly, and I listened. In the dream, our conversation lasted for about two hours. He taught me some things, and I understood that I was receiving some kind of additional transmission. When I woke up, I did not remember a word of what was said, but the feeling that something was transmitted to me remained with me.
I affirm that the transmission of uvaysi brings with it not only Knowledge, but also the experience of the person who carried it out, for a reason - I had the full opportunity to learn it myself. At first, even before the dreams described above, I began to discover the methods of Gurdjieff's work with people. The famous dinners, for which Gurdjieff himself prepared food, and during which he worked with individuals and a general impact on everyone present, did not have such a strict ritual form with us, and sometimes there were not dinners, but breakfasts, but the essence of my interaction with the disciples who were present, was the same. I didn’t know how to cook at all, and suddenly, at the beginning of 2007, I developed an interest in cooking, and I very quickly mastered its basic principles. Moreover, cooking has become for me a form of creativity, and in some ways a manifestation of the presence of certain superpowers. I felt the energy of the dish I was preparing and learned to saturate it with baraka, because a number of spices and foods can absorb the energy of the one who uses them especially well, and can also become wonderful conductors of grace. This knowledge came to me suddenly, as suddenly I suddenly became a good cook. I cooked many oriental dishes, and it was absolutely clear to me that all my mysteriously revealed abilities were the fruit of the Gurdjieff transmission. For more than a year I cooked every day a variety of dishes, making special "sacred" food for the holidays, saturated with barracks. At this time, our table meetings with the students became even more like Gurdjieff's dinners. I must say that it all ended as suddenly as it began. In 2008, I started writing books, and the theme of creativity related to food began to fade away,and then the ability to feel her energy disappeared. Although knowledge of the properties of various spices and products, as well as the ability to cook them with an admixture of barracks, of course, remained.
I have never tried to imitate Gurdjieff or behave like him. What came, one way or another, was mastered by me in my own way, in accordance with my personality and the situation in which I worked. I began to work with people a year and a half after I accepted the Will of God, and the principles of building teaching were dictated by it, and not by the transmission of Gurdjieff. What I received from him thanks to new dreams related only to my personal abilities, which, in fact, had little effect on the overall Work. After sleeping with a conversation on the playground, for example, I had the opportunity to put a haze on people - that is, to make them see in me what I want. Ouspensky wrote about this ability of Gurdjieff, and I also got it for a while. I used the new power I received two or three times, and the first time everything happened spontaneously,and a couple more times - for the sake of experiment. Now I do not feel this power in me, but still I practically did not use it, even when I had it. There were also manifestations of Gurdjieff's experience, one might even say a certain transfer of his habits to me, but I see no point in writing about all this in detail.
Later I got the opportunity to contact Gurdjieff directly. Perhaps in the classical version it would be more correct to say - to address the spirit of Gurdjieff, but I felt it as if I were addressing a living person, even if it does not exist on the physical plane of our reality. A couple of times I turned to him for help in situations where I got stuck in my individual work, and, as far as I remember, I always received help in one form or another. Several times I had to contact him with questions about the content of his teaching and Work, and the answers always came. Now there is no need for either one or the other, and I have not contacted him for a long time.
In recent years I have had two more dreams involving Gurdjieff. The first one dreamed in 2011 in the summer, and in it I found myself in an old wooden two-story house. I climbed the stairs from the first floor to the second, and between the floors there was a large area with chairs arranged. On them sat people, men and women, dressed in the fashion of the beginning of the last century, about twenty people. I realized that these were Gurdjieff's disciples, waiting for the beginning of classes. Then Gurdjieff appeared on the landing, following me up the stairs. He looked about forty-five years old. “I have a headache,” he said to me. After that, he lay on his stomach right on the floor, and I, squatting down, began to massage his head. After a while I managed to relieve his pain, he got up and said: “Well, now they are yours, study with them,” meaning the students who were waiting for him. Having said that,he left, and I stayed with his students, sat down on a chair and began to say something. The dream ended there. After a couple of months I started working in Moscow, and people from one of the Moscow Gurdjieff groups began to come to my meetings. In general, the communication was completely fruitless, but several of those who participated in these meetings became my disciples.
The last dream to date, in which Gurdjieff was present, I had a year and a half ago. He was somewhat unusual. In a dream, I was lying on the bed, and seemed to have just woken up. The room I was in was small, there were no windows, and in the corner opposite the bed there was a chair, and in it was Gurdjieff. Outwardly, I did not recognize him, but I knew for sure that it was him. He was twenty-eight years old (from somewhere I also knew for sure), his head was not shaved, and it was decorated with thick black hair. He silently looked at me, and I - at him. This lasted for a while, and then the dream ended. What did this dream mean? It is possible that I have nothing more to give to Gurdjieff and that I have outgrown the stage at which he could teach me. One way or another, I never dreamed of him again, and I did not come into contact with him.
The knowledge I received from Gurdjieff, as well as his personal experience, changed my whole life, it is a fact. Nevertheless, I go my own way, and I have my own Work. I am not the heir or the successor of his work, and the fact that I live and work in Russia has nothing to do with the fact that he started his Work here. This, as I understand it, is the Creator's plan, and I do not undertake to judge about it. Apparently, the Work that I am doing now is needed right here and right now, and time will tell what will come of it."
A truly super fantastic story in our time. Is not it? The influence of mysticism and Gurdjieff is also felt in the twenty-first century. The ashes of Georgy Ivanovich bother seekers of truth and mystics to this day. But the time has come for us to return again to the diary entries of Maestro Gurdjieff. Here's what follows in the diaries:
“Yes, during the years of my first Sufi wanderings I had - Turkey, Iran, Syria, Afghanistan, Tavria, Palestine; a kaleidoscope of exotic, mysterious, populous and colorful eastern cities: Aden, Istanbul, Karbala, Baghdad, Damascus, Jerusalem, Cairo, Aleppo, Mashhad, Peshawar, Jalalabad, Kandahar - I had great Sufi Teachers in all these cities. I will not name their names, they do their job in solitude and silence, despising "fame" and "popularity" in the European sense. They passed me from one to the other if I deserved it. And each of them had an earthly profession useful to people, which I, mastering Sufi wisdom, studied until I mastered it perfectly. These are the professions that I received in the East: a dance teacher (I will specify: special, ritual dances based on the technique of dervishes), calligrapher,coppersmith, gardener, drummer, carpet weaver and … (I don't know how to call this profession in European, in what language) - let it be like this: a teacher of correct breathing; By the way, I returned to mastering this profession - breathing with all my consciousness and with all my being - during my second Sufi journey, and in general it took me about twenty years to master this profession - or skill.
And yet, and still … Comprehending the Sufi teaching with all my heart, while wandering around the East, I constantly, exhaustingly thought about the same thing, wherever I was: how can I get rid of Destiny? What can be done to make the map with the route to the throne of Genghis Khan disappear, destroyed, lost?
No gimmicks helped. I resorted to all sorts of tricks: once in a conspicuous place I left a card in a hotel room, did not lock the door of my room, returned with a pounding heart late at night - the card was lying where I left it. Another time - it was in Jerusalem - "forgot" the map in the hotel and just hurried to Damascus; halfway, in an impoverished village among the sands and stones scorched by the sun, in which I stayed overnight in the poor house of a shepherd, I was found by a man in long black robes and a black turban (there was no dust, no traces of a long tiresome journey fell from the sky and appeared before me). "Sir," he said gutturally and dully, looking at me mockingly, "you forgot this in Jerusalem …" And he handed me a rolled-up map. "Make no mistakes." Taking a cardI involuntarily touched the stranger's hand - it was cold as ice. A year or two later, I made another desperate attempt: while traveling in Tavria, in the Crimea I “dropped” a map from a steep mountain cliff into the sea. It was raised by the wind, although it had just been completely calm, and the map, which flew up, sank at my feet, and in my mind only one word sounded: "Calm down!" - and this time I recognized the voice: it sounded guttural and dull.
Of course, the surest way to get rid of the card was to burn it. But I already understood: the card will not burn, it is indestructible. Moreover … I repeatedly unrolled this damned card and each time was convinced of its one terrible property: it not only did not wear out, did not age, but also … The paper became lighter, stronger, felt denser and stronger; the designations on the map - cities, rivers, roads - became more and more distinct, richer, brighter; sometimes it seemed to me that in her lines, and above all in the line of the main route, living black blood was pulsing, it seemed to even swell under my gaze, like a vein. And if the mythical shagreen skin of the one who became its owner gradually dried out, wrinkled, decreased, - my map, on the contrary, was renewed. And I, plunging into dense melancholy and doom, understoodalthough I tried with all my might to push this understanding out of myself: the card is gaining more and more power over me and this torture will continue until I find the throne of Genghis Khan.
Yesterday, going to bed, I experienced such a fit of despair, feeling: I can’t, I can’t, that I whispered, burying my head in a pillow that smelled of mice: “Let it … Let it happen! Hurry! As soon as possible!" And in my mind barely discernible rustled: "Tomorrow …" Or maybe I was imagining it? I inspired myself … Maybe …
The cruciform shadow of the window frame, moving imperceptibly slowly across the floor, reached the jug of water. There was a knock on the door three times, it swung open easily, and a young man with an aquiline nose, overgrown with a thick curly beard, in dusty road clothes, appeared in the room. And I immediately recognized him: it was one of the Tiflis "eagles" "The one who …". Only his name I could not remember.
“Hello, George,” he said in Georgian quite calmly, even indifferently.
“ Hello. ” My mouth went dry, and for a few moments it darkened in my eyes, as if evening had suddenly come in the room.
- Get ready. Koba is waiting for you."
Read the continuation here.
The diary was carefully studied and read by a member of the Russian Geographical Society (RGO) of the city of Armavir Sergey Frolov
