By
Arkady Petrov
A Russian Scientist Currently Living in Moscow, Russia
CREATION OF THE UNIVERSE
SAVE YOURSELF
Translation from Russian to English by Simon Kudrov who is a Russian living in Florida, New Hampshire and St. Petersburg, Russia.
I
Preface
Everything that happened in this book, did not happened somewhere on a distant planet. No. Everything has happened here - on our planet Earth with the people who live here right now. Everyone who would take the trouble to read this book, could perceived it as a fiction or reality, because all the events described in this book have a straight connection with such a phenomena as a manageable clairvoyance. Those who have such an ability, could travel through their conscience up into cosmos and deep down to the bottom of the ocean. They can easily go into the ancient past and to the mysterious world of the biological cell.
My story is autobiographical. I am sharing with you what I know in chronological order, the same order of events I went through stepping from one step of initiation to another, turning one page of life after another. I received the right to share with you some of my knowledge by my personal choice in this particular moment.
Through the entire history of the human race, we are interconnecting and interacting with a mysterious world which we never could comprehend or rationally explain. There were always a chosen few who possessed an incredible ability to predict the future, to rule the atmosphere processes, to heal incurable illnesses etc. Even thought that knowledge was carefully hidden from the masses, nevertheless, the literature of such a phenomena was growing through the centuries.
It is pity that the average reader will not learn much from these writings. The reader might learn some of the terminologies and learn about some unusual events, and that is about it. The sacred knowledge is still passing on whether from teacher to student or through some unknown, unexplainable way, incomprehensible even for those chosen clairvoyants .
Today we are witnessing a spiritual processes all over the world of Global and even Cosmic proportions. It is not an accident that during the last century our view on the nature of human kind and his purpose of existence in the Universe has been dramatically changed. Everybody is talking about the Aquarian era, about a new time to come… People are in a state of high, even mystical expectations on the edge of the Millenniums. Virgil, the greatest Roman poet, predicted the coming of Jesus The Christ: “The Century awaiting renovation. The World of the first days and the Truth on our threshold. And a new youth is coming from the sky“. - “Eclogs”, 4. Today, new prophets are predicting His second coming.
This is a sign that the time has come to uncover the mysteries and the secret teachings of the past for the masses. Of course, the comprehension of the esoteric knowledge and practice will not come instantaneously. This new education will take time to integrate. Today we can confirm the fact that many of those who are enlightened have received permission from the Higher Sources to reveal their sacred knowledge.
I would like to ask the atheist reader to keep an open mind and not perceive this book as sheer fantasy. To the people with a religious persuasion, I would ask to not perceive it as heresy. I repeat myself: my story is autobiographical. The people in my book are real. Most of them are alive and well today. I have tried to write more from my personal experience rather than explanations on theory or technical aspects of the esoteric.
How and why have a certain chosen few received this sacred knowledge? What is the level of enlightenment required to become an Enlightened person? How should we live our lives and what is the purpose of living? If my reader is really serious about these questions, if he decides to work on himself to overcome his ego in order to elevate himself on another level of existence - I would consider my task is being fulfilled. Each of us has his own way to God and his own way to serve Him.
This book was written in a somewhat unusual style. It is something that looks unreal yet is infused with reality. The interesting thing, that many of you might consider, is to look at the fantastic events as real and vise versa, the “real things” as the fantasy.
My book is about my personal experiences and the people who have helped me on my journey. This book is also about the events that took place in the past-present, and future-now. Precisely in this order the coordinates of time exist, because the present is always happening on the edge of two streams: past and future. The word “Now” is only possible when somebody spoke it in the Past and heard it in the Future.
At the end of the Second Millennium many people,- some with fear, some with hope,- have awaited the prophecies promised by the holy scriptures - Armageddon, Apocalypses, Golden Era. Then, after looking around, some started to breath easily, nothing happened. Some were disappointed “Is everything going to be as usual?”.
After reading this book, you will understand why the immortal Man has been distant from his Father. What the meaning of the Original Sin was. What is awaiting Human beings in this newly opened and discovered space. The three books I have written will lead you first to a new world, to a new knowledge in the third millennium: “Save Yourself”; “Save The World Within You”; “Save The World Around You” They will lead you from mortality to immortality, from fear and passive existence to a memory of yourself and your place in the eternal Cosmos which is patiently awaiting your awakening with unconditional Love.
I am sure that my experience is absolutely unique. I have had an opportunity to receive, through the process of the Higher Initiations, unbelievable knowledge, which is of most importance for all living on this Earth today.
Chapter 1.
In June of 1996, I was admitted to the hospital. I had a severe kidney disease. My spirit was on the all time low. This illness took over my life without any mercy, forcing me to change plans, break obligations and promises.
Just a few months before, I was appointed as a director of a Publishing House “Artistic Literature”. During the era of the Soviet Union, this agency was one of the biggest in the whole world, but in the time I took the position, the whole Soviet system has collapsed, and “Artistic Literature” was in very bad shape. I was faced with multibillion debts, a disorganized personnel and an atmosphere of fear anticipating an upcoming disaster. The material part was also in total disarray: the computer support was taken out by the previous director who disappeared with it without a trace. The renowned writers of Russia wrote to President Eltsin about this scandalous situation in “ArtLit”. They demanded to stop the plundering of the House. They compared the importance of the “ArtLit” with Bolshoy Theatre and the Hermitage. The other comparisons made was with sinking “Titanic” .
Many articles were written in major newspapers regarding this situation. There were petitions signed by many famous people involved in the arts such as actors, writers, and critics . There was a persistent tone of anxiety in the air. Some people felt that any efforts made to save the publishing house were futile, others demanded extra funds from the government to delay the time of its collapse. But the government did not have any money, and they did what any government would do in such a situation: they changed the management of the House. It does not cost them extra money but in the public eye it looked as if they were taking action. They promised me moral support with some financial support in the future.
The offer for the directorial position in the House came from the highly respected and very famous writer, Boris Andreevich Mozhaev. He headed the Federal Program of Publishing in Russia at the time. This offer was a total surprise for me. I already had my own publishing agency “The Culture” in a small town “Pushkin” near Moscow. My business was prospering, I knew exactly what I wanted - what else could I ask for?
I was very aware from the press of the critical situation that developed at “The Artistic Literature”. They did not published a single book for the whole year. The editors who spoke a few different languages, had a salary of $20.00 a month. They were threats to cut off the electrical power, the heat and the phone for the unpaid bills. The possibility of bankruptcy and the selling the House in an auction became a reality, and some people were welcoming it. The very people who instigated the downfall of the House were ready to buy the building on Basmannaya which was occupied by the House, and move in not as guests but as the owners.
At first, I did not want to accept this directorial position because first of all the situation with the House was critical; and second, I was offered the post of vice-president of the Humanistic section of the International Academy of Information. I realized that to hold these two very important positions would be a very difficult task. I was full of doubts but temptations were very high because we were talking about the “The Artistic Literature” - the most famous Publishing House of Russia, and also, the personal request of Boris Andreevic was a great honor.
Boris Andreevich and I met a very long time ago, and in the years of our friendship I acquired great admiration for this man, his character, and his resilience and aimed to be like him, somewhat consciously but mostly on an unconscious level. I understood that the strong hero of his novel “Alive!” - Feodor Kouzkin is the essence of the author himself.
His own life was not an easy ride. Despite all obstacles, he patently and skillfully endured the heavy punches of life. He would always touch his beard and say with a smile: “Still alive!” and continue his work.
As any true artist, he understood that his destiny is a path of struggle. Maybe not as historically significant as the path of Solszhenitsin, whom he bravely defended, but not less difficult. Contrary to Alexander Isayevich who was always aware of his historical significance, Mozhaev was carrying his cross with a smile, looking on his communist party-bosses with a smirk. He deeply felt the indifference of the Soviet system towards the individual. He realized that for the Soviet bureaucrat a human being is not a divine treasure of the Universe , but only a small, insignificant part of the system. The System, while impudently invading our souls and violating our privacy, could not understand that the major threat of its existence would come from those, visibly agreeable but carefully preserving the central core of the Russian character people. The simple people - men and women, about whom Mozhaev wrote his novels with such a warmth and love.
He wrote that nothing good could come out of blood, crime, and violence. He was calling for a harmony in a spiritual life. He was extremely disappointed when he saw how, in the last few years, the old system was replaced with a new one, as heartless and soulless as the old and with the same Imperial attitude. Through his books one can gain understanding into the meaning of the life of all those people who became frustrated and despaired through the destructive processes of the Russian modern world.
How could I refused the request of such a person? His trust of me and his high regards to the dynamic life of our publishing agency “The Culture” were extremely flattering. I agreed.
The Commission of Publishing conducted an opening of the position for a director of “The Artistic Literature” which I won. After all of the ceremonial formalities, the real problems and issues with the House were unaddressed. At this time Mozhaev was gravely ill. I was appointed to the position in January, and on March 2, Boris Andreevich died.
Maybe feelings of emptiness and abandonment were forcing my illness. At the time I did not know and understand many things, “what is life, what is death?” even though I was already at a mature age. During the funeral ceremony, over the casket of my teacher, I made a promise that I would do everything in my power to save “The Artistic Literature”, and not let it die. Three months had passed from that day. The problems in the house were growing in a downward spiral motion. At this very critical moment, my two kidneys refused to work. The doctors advised to take out one of them, the left one. The feelings of hopelessness, desperation, and impossibility to change the situation with my own willpower were haunting me.
In one of those not very joyful, sleepless nights something clicked in me like a switch. I began to see vividly events that took place thousands of years ago and, in some peculiar way, how those events were interconnected with our time, with my personal situation. This suggested to me that this profound experience was not accidental.
No, it was not a dream. Those were visions. The brightness and brilliance of color in the picture was of such magnitude that it superseded the common vision of the human eye. This alone was so stunning and overwhelming that I forgot my illness and began to write down everything I saw through my inner vision.
Two years later those writings were transform to my novel “Eldibor”. To the average person this novel is a fantasy or what they called in the West, “ Science Fiction”. It is not an explanation or prediction of some scientific break through like Jule Vern, but more like a meaningful fantasy of Ray Bradbury for example. But I saw this “fantasy” with my own inner sight! It is impossible that such vivid visions were only a product of my imagination. The imagination is a process of thoughts but not of emotions.
Everyone can read my novel. The events that unfolded in my life during my work on the novel “Eldibor” were intertwined with what I was writing about at such a degree, that I finally understood, my visions are part of my real life. I did not need to add any fantasy to the revelations that broke through to my life from the spiritual world. It became part of my real existence, my destiny. I simply had no right to give up my visions to the fictional heroes, phantoms of virtual reality.
Everything began during a dream. I felt that some unknown force all of a sudden took me out from myself and threw me into the darkness. The darkness carried me, spinning me faster and faster, up and down like on a big spiral , and suddenly threw me out on a hard, covered with small stones, surface.
I stood up feeling excruciating pain in my whole body and looked around. The place where I was thrown to by an unknown force was covered with flickering light as if coming out of a vibrating crystal bowl. I could not see anything as I was engulfed by thick clouds of swirling fog in front of me, beside me, beneath my feet, or anywhere I tried to look.
Impatience and annoyance overcame me all at once, and even though those feelings had not taken a clear thought form yet, it seems like they were thrown out in the direction of my glance. Enforced by some incredible power connected to them, they struck the fog with a bouncy, physically tangible wave, and the fog began to move and melt away.
I hardly had time to jump out, being burned by the heat of the eternal fire. The whole space around me was filled with a fire which was rising and falling like an orange fog in the red dim-light, throwing shafts of sparks. Twinkling and melting, and reviving again inside the waves of moving plasma, oscillation of flame gave birth to musical vibrations that formed fiery patterns.
Everything in front of me consisted of a sound and color, furious like the flooding of a fiery river during a volcanic eruption, and delicate like a web in an autumn forest. Blues, greens, yellows, browns, and rose filled the space and all this brilliance of color was dancing in front of me alternating with bright sparks and black reflections of lava.
It was a symphony of Genesis, that in the dance of self-revelation, was revealed a flash of the Universe. The sounds, that were carried on the edge of flames, falling down or rising up, merged in its fall and rise whether with quiet whisper of a million fairy creatures, or the threatening roar of angry plasma, or the sad songs of falling stars.
The person who was I and not I at the same time and whom is better to call He, made one step back and almost fell still holding his balance an arms distance from the edge of a gigantic spinning tornado. Inside its enormous belly you could hear some sobbing, and voices, see flashes of fading silhouettes, pieces of destroyed reality, and blocks of ice in deep, thick water. Thunders and sparks of lightening had muffled for the moment the roar of the open abyss.