the Ringing cedars of Russia
Vladimir Megre English translation by John Woodsworth

Book 4. Co-creation (1999)

But who is to blame?


“But I had no idea all that could be done so fine, just like that. Pity I can’t turn the clock back in time and correct everything.”

“But why go back? Life goes on, and each one is given the opportunity at any moment to create a splendid way of life.”

“Life goes on, of course, but what good are old people, for example? Now they expect their children to help them, while the children themselves are unemployed. Besides, how can children be properly brought up now, when they’re all grown up themselves?”

‘Adults can still give their children a Divine upbringing.”

“But how?”

“You know, it would be good for the elderly to apologise to their children. And sincerely apologise, for not having been

able to give them a trouble-free world. For dirty water and polluted air.

‘And let them begin to build, with their elderly hands, a real living home for their grown kids. If only such a splendid thought is born in them, the days of their lives will be extended. And when the elderly reach out their hand to touch their Motherland, believe me, Vladimir, the children they yearn to see will return to them. And perhaps the elderly will not be able to grow their living home completely, but their very children will be able to bury them right in their Motherland, and thereby help them come to life again.”

“Bury them in their Motherland? Oh, by ‘Motherland’ you mean their lot of family terrain. So, we should bury our

relations on this lot of land, instead of in a cemetery? And well put up memorials to them there?”

“Of course, on their own land, their own plot of ground. In the forest planted by their own hand. But of man-made memorials they have no need. Indeed, everything around will serve as a memorial to them. And every day everything around you will remind you of them and not with sadness, but with gladness. And your line will be immortal — after all, it is only good memories that will bring back souls to the Earth.”

“Hold on, hold on there. What about the cemeteries? D’you mean to say they’re completely superfluous?”

“Vladimir, cemeteries today are something like cesspits, where people throw their useless garbage. Even up until recently the bodies of those who died were buried in family tombs, chapels and temples. And only those without family or wayward people were taken outside the community. What is left today is but a distorted remembrance ritual of long ago. You go through a ritual after three days, then nine days after that, then six months, then a year, and so on. Then the remembrance is wholly superseded by the ritual itself. The souls of those who have passed away are gradually forgotten by those living today. And even the living are all too often forgotten, when children abandon their own parents and run away to some far-off land. And the children themselves are not to blame — they are simply running from what they intuitively perceive as the parents’ lie and the hopelessness of their own aspirations. They are running away from impending hopelessness, only to find themselves at the same dead end.

“Everything in the Universe is arranged so that those souls who are called by good memories from the Earth are the first to be re-embodied in material form. Called not by ritual, but by genuine feelings. They will appear in those living on the Earth when the departed, by virtue of their way of life, leave behind pleasant memories of themselves. When the memories of them are not ritualistic, but are real and tangible.

“In comparison with the multitude of other human planes of being in the Universe, the human material plane is no less significant, and we must lovingly cherish our relationship to it.

“From the bodies buried in the forest they themselves planted, grass and flowers will come up, along with bushes and trees. You will see these and delight in them. Every day you will come into contact with a piece of your Motherland tilled by your parents’ hand, you will communicate with them subconsciously, and they will communicate with you. Have you ever heard of guardian angels?”

“Yes, I have.”

“These guardian angels, your ancestors both close and distant, will endeavour to watch over you. In three generations their souls will once again be embodied on the Earth. But even when they do not have an earthly, material incarnation, the energy of their souls will not refrain from watching over you every moment. Nobody will be able to aggressively invade your kin’s terrain. The energy of fear is in each person — an energy that will also be awakened in the aggressor. The aggressor here will find himself subject to a multitude of diseases, arising from stress. In time they will also destroy him.” “‘In time,’ you say, but that aggressor might wreak a lot of havoc in the meantime.”

“Who will seek to attack, Vladimir, if he knows that his punishment is inevitable?”

“But what if he doesn’t know it?”

“Every person today knows this intuitively.”

“Well, okay, let’s say you’re right about aggressors, but what about friends? Let’s say I want to have my friends over for a visit one night. They’ll come and get a fright from everything around them.”

‘Any friends you have whose thoughts are pure will be gladly welcomed by what is around them, as you will be glad to greet them. And here I might bring up the example of the hound. When a friend comes to the dog’s owner, a faithful watchdog will not lay a paw on him. When an aggressor attacks, however, the faithful hound is ready to do mortal combat with him.

‘And on your plot of Motherland even each blade of grass that grows will be healthful both to you and to your friends. And each breeze that blows will bring you healing pollen from the flowers, bushes and trees. And the energy of all your forebears will be present with you. And in anticipation of cocreation the planets themselves will await your dictation.

‘And the face of your beloved will reflect from every petal of the splendid flowers in perpetuity And the children you raise will tenderly talk with you for millennia to come. And you yourself will be embodied in new generations. And so you will talk with yourself, and help with your own upbringing. And you will produce co-creations with your Parent. In your own Motherland, in your own Space of Love will dwell the Divine energy — love!”

When Anastasia told me about the plot of land back in the taiga, my breath was simply taken away, captivated as it was by her fervour and the intonations of her voice. Later, after coming home and writing these lines, I often wondered how important it really is for each individual to have such a spot of his own — this piece of one’s Motherland, as she calls it? Can one really see to a child’s upbringing when he is already grown, with one’s own last breath? Is it really possible, with the help of one’s own family terrain, to speak with one’s parents again and for their energy to protect one, both in spirit and in body? And — just imagine — it came about that all my doubts were erased all on their own by life itself. This is how it happened...

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