Book 2. Ringing cedars of Russia (1997)
Dachnik Day and and an All-Earth holiday!
“But why Russian dachniks in particular? What’s the connec-tion here?”
“You see, Vladimir, even though the Earth is very large, it is very, very sensitive.
“Think of how big you are by comparison with a tiny mos-quito. And yet, when a mosquito lands on you, you feel it through your skin. And the Earth also feels — everything. When people pave it over with concrete and asphalt, when they cut down trees and burn the forests growing on it, when they pick and poke at its innards and sprinkle it with powder called fertiliser, it feels the hurt. And yet still it loves people, as a mother loves her children.
‘And the Earth tries to absorb into its depths all humanity’s anger, and only when it no longer has the strength to hold it back, that anger explodes in the form of volcanic eruptions and earthquakes.
“The Earth needs our help. Tenderness and a loving atti-tude give it strength. The Earth may be large, but it is most sensitive. And it feels the tender caress of even a single hu-man hand. Oh, how it feels and anticipates this touch!
“There was a time in Russia when the Earth was deemed to belong to everyone and therefore nobody in particular. So
people did not think of it as their own. Then changes came in Russia. They began giving out tiny private plots to people to go with their dachas.
“It was no coincidence at all that these plots were extremely small, too small to cultivate with mechanised equipment. But Russians, yearning for contact with the Earth, took to them with joyous enthusiasm. They went to people both poor and rich. Because nothing can break Man’s connection with the Earth!
‘After obtaining their little plots of land, people intuitively felt their worth. And millions of pairs of human hands began touching the Earth with love. With their hands, you un-derstand, not with mechanised tools, lots and lots of people touched the ground caressingly on these little plots. And the Earth felt this, it felt it very much. It felt the blessing touch of each individual hand upon it. And the Earth found new strength to carry on.”
“So, what now?” I queried. “Should we erect a monument to every dachnik as the saviour of the planet?”
“Yes, Vladimir, they are saviours indeed.”
“But that would be far too many monuments! I have it! Why not set up a one- or two-day national holiday? Dachnik Day, or an All-Earth Day, it could be designated in the calendar.” “Oooh, a holiday!” Anastasia threw up her arms in elation. “What a terrific idea indeed! A celebration! A happy and cheerful holiday — that is something we definitely need!” ‘And you with that Ray of yours can suggest to our govern-ment, to our deputies in the State Duma, that they pass the required legislation.”
“I cannot get through to them. They are too busy with their daily routine. They have so many decisions to make, they have absolutely no time to think. Besides, there is not much point in my attempting to raise their conscious awareness. It would be difficult for them to accept a complete conscious picture of reality. They are not allowed to make any better resolutions than those they are passing at the moment.”
“Who can stop the government or the president from so doing?”
“You. The masses. The majority. As for correct decisions, they are what you call ‘unpopular measures’.”
“Yes, you’re right. We have democracy The most impor-tant decisions are taken by the majority. The majority is al-ways right.”
“The greatest conscious awareness is always achieved first by individuals, Vladimir. It always takes the majority a space of time to catch on.”
“If that’s true, then why do we need democracy, referen- dums?”
“They are needed to serve as a shock-absorber, to avoid sudden jerks. When these shock-absorbers do not work, rev-olution occurs. A revolutionary period is always a challenge for the majority”
“But a DachriikDay? — that’s not revolution. What’s wrong with it}”
‘A holiday like that is fine. It is needed. Definitely needed. It should be set up as quickly as possible. I shall think about how it can be done as quickly as possible.”
“I’ll help you. I know better which levers to pull in our world for the most effective results. I’ll write to the papers... No, better still, I’ll write about the dachniks in that book of yours and ask people to send telegrams to the government and the Duma, requesting the establishment of a Dachnik Day as an All-Earth holiday Only what date should it be?”
“The 23rd of July;”
“Why the 23rd?”
“It is an appropriate day; Also because it is your birthday, Vladimir. After all, this fantastic idea is all yours!”
“That’s great. So, well ask people to send telegrams asking for legislation setting up the 23rd of July as Dachnik Day and an All-Earth holiday. And as soon as the telegrams start arriving at the Duma and people begin to wonder why people are sending them, you burst in with your Ray!”
“Burst in I shall! I shall burst in with all my might! And it will be a fine, bright and beautiful holiday! For everyone! Everyone will have such a good time and the whole Earth will rejoice in its light!”
“Why does everybody have to have a good time? This holi-day’s only for dachniks, isn’t it?”
“We must see that everyone has a good time. This holiday will indeed begin in Russia. But then it will become the most fantastic holiday for the world as a whole. A marvellous holi-day for the soul.”
‘And how will it be celebrated the first time in Russia?” I enquired. “Nobody will know what to make of it.”
“Each one’s heart will suggest on that day what he should do and how I can visualise a general outline right now.”
Then Anastasia began talking, clearly enunciating each word. She talked with both speed and inspiration. It was all most extraordinary — the rhythm of her speech, the arrange-ment of her phrases, the pronunciation of her words:
May all of Russia wake that day at dawn. May people alone, or with friends and family, come to the land and stand upon it with bare feet. Those who have their little plot of land, let them, greet with praise the first rays of the Sun amidst the shoots and seedlings they have planted. And touch each species with caressing hands.
As the Sun rises in the sky, let them, pick and taste the fruit of their plantings, one from each variety, and that should suffice them, up ’til the mid-day meal.
Before the meal let them tend their plots anew. Let each one ponder, their life and joy, and what they are destined to do.
Let each remember their family and friends with love. Andponder why their planted seeds are growing and designate the purpose of every plant.
And even before the mid-day feast everyone should spend at least an hour by themselves. It is not important how or where or exactly when, but they should be alone for a. spell. To spend at least an hour in an effort to look within themselves.
Let the whole family gather for the meal in the middle of the day. Those living at home and those who have come from far away. Let dinner be prepared from, what the Earth has borne for the hour of repast. Let every one bring to the whole table whatever is desired by his heart and soul. Let all the family members look each other lovingly in the eye. And let the eldest bless the table together with the youngest. And let the table all around with quiet conversation resound. There should be good words spoken. About all those who sit beside you.
The scene Anastasia described was so extraordinarily vivid that I could feel myself sitting at the table, with people all around. I found myself caught up in the celebration — I was believing in it or, rather, I was participating in it. And I felt led to contribute a feature of my own:
“There should be a toast before dinner. Everyone raise their glass. Let’s drink to the Earth, let’s drink to love!”
I actually felt I was holding the glass in my hand.
Then suddenly she broke into my reverie:
“Vladimir, please let there be no alcoholic poison on the table.”
The glass vanished from my hand.
“Stop it, Anastasia! Don’t spoil the celebration!”
“Well, since you have your mind set on it, let there be some wine from berries, but this must be imbibed in very small sips.”
‘All right, wine it is, then. Just so as not to change our habits all at once. And after the dinner, then what shall we do?”
Let the people return to the cities and towns, having gathered the fruit they have grown on their little plots of ground. Let them bear it in baskets and share it with everyone at home who do not have plots of their own.
Oh, how many positive feelings will come from this day! They will bring about healings of many people’s diseases. Diseases which threatened with death and those not erased by time will simply vanish. Let those who are incurably or even slightly ill go out and meet the flood ofdachniks returning from- their plots. The rays of Love and of good, along with the fruits of their labours will heal diseases.
Look and see! Look at the city’s main railway station, where floods of people are arriving with baskets of flowers. Look and see the people’s eyes glimmering with kindness, joy andpeace.
Anastasia was virtually glowing with a radiance, as she became more and more inspired with the idea of the holiday. Her eyes were no longer merely shining with joy, they were literally spariding with a pale-blue luminescence. The ex-pression on her face was changing, yet still remained joyful, as though a mighty flood of images of this celebration were rushing through her brain.
All at once she fell silent. Then, bending one leg at the knee and lifting up her right arm, she sprang from the ground with a tremendous recoil, virtually taking flight like an arrow shot from the Earth. She leapt almost as high as the bottom branches of the cedars. Upon landing, she waved her arm,
clapped her hands, and a bluish glow flooded the glade. All the words Anastasia now uttered seemed to be echoed by each tiny bug and blade of grass and each majestic cedar. Her voice sounded as though it were being reinforced by a hidden power. Even though her words were not that loud, it seemed as though they could be heard by every vein running through the unfathomable expanse of the Universe.
Mother Russia will greet crowds of guests on that day! They are all of the Earth as Atlanteans born! As prodigal sons they shall return.
On that day, all over Russia, let everyone awake and greet the dawn. Let all the strings of the harp of the Universe make cheerful melody and swell with resonant sound. Let all the bards sing and tell with joyful tongue and play guitars in all the streets, in every yard around. And he who is too old will once again be young as many, many years ago.
‘And I, Anastasia, will I be young once more?”
Both you and I, Vladimir, shall be young and people will feel young for the very first time. And the old shall write letters to their children. And children to their parents. And infants taking their very first steps on Earth shall enter a better world of joy and mirth. And on that day no child shall feel insulted. Lor adults shall treat children as their equals.
And all the gods on high will to the Earth descend. And will commend themselves to take on simple forms.
And God Himself the Universal God will be delighted. May You rejoice too in Love, making all the Earth so bright!
Anastasia was really getting carried away with images of the holiday She was whirling around the glade in a fiery dance, becoming more and more inspired at every step.
“Stop! Stop!” I cried to Anastasia, suddenly realising that she was taking it all too seriously She was not merely uttering words. I now realised her every word and novel turn of phrase was actually a visualisation! She was visualising images of the celebration! And with her typical stubbornness she will go on visualising and dreaming about it until the dream turns into reality Like a diehard fanatic she will dream! She will give her all to those dachniks, just as she has done for the past twenty years. And I cried out to stop her:
“What’s going on? Don’t you understand? All that stuff about a holiday — it’s all just in fan! I was just teasing!”
Anastasia suddenly stopped in her tracks. No sooner did I catch a glimpse of her than I felt a big lump in my throat from the look on her face. Her face looked bewildered like that of a child. She looked at me with pain and pity, as though I were an unremitting attacker. And almost in a whisper she started saying:
Vladimir, I took it seriously. I have already visualised it all. And to life’s chain of events people’s forthcoming telegrams have already interwoven a link. The order of events will be broken without them.. I have accepted your words, believed them, and brought them to pass. I perceived you were speaking of the holiday and telegrams sincerely. Do not take back the words that you have spoken. Just help me with the telegrams, so that I may, as you said, offer assistance with my Ray.
“Okay, I’ll try, only don’t panic, — maybe it’ll end up that nobody will even want to send the telegrams.”
There will be people who will comprehend. They will feel it in the government and in your Duma as well. And a holiday there will be! It will arise! Time will tell! Look here!
And once again celebration images passed before my eyes.
There! — I’ve written about it. Now you can go and do as your heart and soul dictates