LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

      The verbal designation "Reality Transurfing" is a registered trademark.

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without the written permission from the copyright owners.

      © OJSC Ves Publishing Group, 2012

      Foreword

      DEAR READER,

      Everyone wants their life to be comfortable, abundant, free of illness and chaos, and yet we often find that life has its own plans, and can leave us feeling like a little paper boat spinning round on life’s turbulent waters. You may have tried all sorts of popular methods aimed at achieving happiness but I wonder how effective you found them if they conformed to the traditional worldview.

      This book introduces many strange and wonderful things. It is all so mind-blowing you might not want to believe it. But you will not have to believe. The methods introduced here invite you to test everything out for yourself and when you do, your current worldview will crumble.

      Transurfing is a powerful technique aimed at giving you the power to create aspects of your life in a way that would ordinarily seem impossible; In particular, Transurfing will give you the power to control your own destiny as you see fit. I promise no miracles and yet something greater than a miracle awaits you. You will discover that the hidden quality of reality is more extraordinary than any mystic tradition.

      There are many books available now on how to become successful, rich and happy. It is a tempting prospect, for who would not want these things? The problem is that when you start reading these self-help books you discover that in order for the technique to work you have to do certain exercises, embark on some serious soul searching, meditate, and straight away, your enthusiasm wanes. For most people life is busy and stressful enough without having to add to the workload by giving yourself any more to do.

      The books will tell you that you are imperfect and that change will have to start with yourself otherwise there is no point in hoping for anything more. You might not be entirely satisfied with yourself but deep down you know that you do not really want to change and neither should you have to. Be careful of anyone who tells you that you are less than perfect, for how could anyone else possibly know how you are meant to be? If you are told that you must change yourself in order to achieve the things you want in life the solution is not where you were looking for it.

      The main idea of Transurfing is based on the existence of the alternatives space which stores the scripts of all possible events. The number of alternatives is infinite just like the number of possible points on a coordinate graph is infinite. In the alternatives space is written everything that was, is, or ever will be. Under certain conditions, a person’s thought energy can materialise a given sector of the alternatives space.

      A potential alternative is embodied in physical reality like a reflection in the mirror of alternatives. The individual is capable of shaping their own reality as long as they observe certain rules. The mind tries unsuccessfully to influence the reflection. Instead you have to change the image that is being reflected.

      In this book we are not going to do exercises, meditate or obsess with the self. Transurfing is not so much a new method of self-improvement as a fundamentally different way of thinking and behaving in order to get what you desire out of life. It implies exactly this–to get what you desire from life, rather than having to fight for it. The method of Transurfing is not aimed at changing the self. It offers a way of returning to self.

      We all make mistakes in life and then think how wonderful it would be if we could turn back the clock and put everything right. I am not promising you a “train ticket back to your childhood”, but mistakes can be put right and doing so is a bit like returning to the past, or even stepping ‘forward into the past’. The meaning of these words will become clearer towards the end of the book. You will not have heard or read anywhere else the things I am going to tell you here, so be prepared for the unexpected as enjoyable as it is surprising.

      Chapter I. The Alternatives Model

      Dreams Don’t Come True

      The Rustle of the Morning Stars

      I was woken by the neighbour’s dog barking. The nasty animal was always waking me up. How I hated it! Why should I have to be woken up by the noise of someone else’s pet? I decided to go out for a walk, calm down and distract myself from the intense desire to set fire to my neighbour’s house. They say dogs are like their owners. This one was. There always seemed to be some idiot in my life trying to get me down. Feeling stressed I started to get dressed. My slippers had disappeared again. Where are you, you sneaky little buggers? When I find you I will chuck you out!

      It was foggy and damp outside. I walked along the slippery path through the gloomy forest. Almost all the leaves had fallen, exposing the grey trunks of half-dead trees. Why do I live in the middle of this depressing bog? I reached for a cigarette. I didn’t really want one, but old habits told me I needed one. Need? At what point had I become addicted to cigarettes? It’s not very pleasant smoking in the morning on an empty stomach. I used to be a social smoker. It had been fashionable, a symbol of freedom and style. But the party ends and the grey, drizzle of everyday life sets in, bringing with it problems in patches like slimy puddles. You smoke each problem away several times as if saying to yourself: “I’ll just have this quick smoke, catch my breath and then launch myself back into the dreaded routine.”

      The smoke got in my eyes making them sting, so I placed my hands over them for a minute like an upset child. I was so fed up of everything. As if reading my thoughts, a birch branch bent spitefully and hit me hard on the forehead. Bastard! In my outrage I broke the branch in half and threw it to one side. The branch got caught in a tree and bounced from side to side and sprang up and down like a jack in a box as if mocking my inability to change any aspect of my world. Feeling very low I pushed on.

      Every time I tried to battle with the world it would at first yield, giving me false hope, only then to come back at me with a hard slap. It’s only in films that the hero sets off towards his goal casting aside anything and everything that stands in the way. In reality, things are a bit different. Life is like a game of roulette. You win once, twice, even three times. You imagine yourself the prize-winner with the world at your feet but always end up with less than you started. You are just the turkey fattened up to be roasted and devoured to the sounds of happy music and laughter. You were fooling yourself. It’s not your lucky day. You made a mistake…

      Wallowing in dark thoughts I arrived at the beach. Sharp waves were biting viciously at the sandy shore. The cold, damp sea breeze blew at me bitterly. Fat sea gulls wandered the shoreline, lazily pecking at rotten waste. Their eyes carried a cold, black empty look as if reflecting the cold and antagonism of the world around me.

      A tramp was collecting empty bottles on the beach. I wished he would disappear. I wanted to be alone but he was walking towards me, probably wanting to scrounge something. I decided to go home. Was there no peace anywhere? I was so tired. I realised that the feeling of tiredness never left me, even when I was relaxing. At some point I had started killing time as if sitting out a prison sentence. I was always waiting for things to change, for a new stage in my life to begin where I would be different and able to enjoy life, but that stage was always somewhere in the future. In the meantime it was the same old drudgery. I kept waiting but the better future remained as elusive as ever. I would return home and do the same thing I always did; eat a boring breakfast and then leave for my dull job, forcing myself to produce results which mattered to someone else but not to me. It would be just another day of the same tiresome, meaningless life.

      I was woken by the rustle of the morning stars. What a sad dream. It was as if I had returned to a period in my past. Thank goodness it was only a dream. I stretched with relief just like my cat does. There he was lying lazily sprawled out–only his ears giving any sign that he was aware of my presence. Get up you whiskered thing. Are you coming with me for a walk? I had placed an order for a sunny day and so set off towards the sea.

      The path led through the forest and the rustle of the morning stars gradually faded, giving way to the multi-voiced choir of the bird nation. Someone in the bushes was trying especially

Скачать книгу