Path: New Life (5.)

19. 03. 2018
6th international conference of exopolitics, history and spirituality

Short story - It was already dark when I woke up. I left the house. My eyes searched for Sina, but the darkness made it difficult to recognize him. Then they noticed me. They sent a boy to see me. He took my hand and led me away. We came to another house - more ornate than the hut around, if you could talk about the decoration. The boy rolled back the mat that served instead of the door and invited me to enter.

Our patient lay there, and Sin and the old man stood by him. I walked over to them. Sin stepped back and the old man raised the lamp so I could see the man. His forehead was covered in sweat. I knelt on the ground and took his head in my hands. No, it was okay. He will recover. We arrived on time.

In these regions, it would be dangerous for us if a patient died. How we were received depended on the success of the treatment. The favor of the people of this region depended on whether we were able to meet their expectations. So here we have succeeded.

An old man's helper came out of the dark corner of the hut. He held out his hand and helped me to my feet. We were silent. The old man placed the lamp in the boy's palms and began to paint the man's body with a solution. Sin helped him. The smell and color were foreign to me.

"It's a new medicine," Sin said softly so as not to wake the patient, "we tried to combine our knowledge. We'll see if it works as we expected. ”They finished their work and handed me a bowl of solution. I sniffed. The smell was sharp and not exactly pleasant. I dipped my finger and licked it. The drug was bitter.

We left the shack. The boy stayed to look after the patient. Both men could see fatigue.

"Go relax," I told them. "I'll stay." The man's fever worried me as much as the unclean environment. The men went to the old man's hut. I stood in front of the tent, a bowl of medicine in my hand.

I went back to the patient. The boy sat next to him, wiping his forehead. He smiled. The man breathed quite regularly. I set down the bowl of medicine and sat down next to the boy.

"You don't have to be here, ma'am," the boy said in our language. "If there are complications, I'll call you." I was surprised that he knew our language.

He laughed, "We're not as uneducated as you think," he replied. I protested. We have never underestimated the knowledge and experience of people from other regions. We also never refused to accept what worked for them. Healing is not a question of prestige, but an effort to restore the body and soul to its former strength - health. And one should use all means to do so.

"What's in that medicine?" I asked. The boy named a tree whose bark is used to reduce fever and leaves to disinfect. He tried to describe it to me, but neither the description nor the name told me anything.

"I will show you this morning, lady," he said, seeing the vanity of his efforts.

The drug took over. The man's condition stabilized. I left him in the treatment of Sina and the old man and went with the boy to look for a tree. I diligently wrote down the newly acquired knowledge on the tables. The boy liked it when I carved characters into the dirt and asked me for a tile. He drew a tree on it and printed a leaf on the other side. It was a great idea. In this way, the plant could be identified much better.

We stayed. The village was nice and quiet. People accepted us and we tried not to break their habits and adapt. They were very tolerant people, straightforward and honest. Separation from the rest of the world forced them to take measures to prevent sibling and kinship. A complex system of names helped determine who could marry whom, reducing the possibility of unwanted degenerations. Therefore, single men and women lived separately.

For now, I lived in the house of an old woman and Sin with a local healer, but the villagers started building our own shack. A shack that was supposed to be separated inside. Sin and the boy prepared the drawings. The dwelling was to have a room for each of us and a common space in the middle, which was to serve as a surgery and a study. After we left, an old man and a boy could use it.

We didn't have much work here. People were quite healthy, so we used the time to expand our knowledge of their healing abilities, and we ourselves and old boys passed on what we knew. I tried to write everything down carefully. The tables were increasing. The boy, whose drawing skills were astonishing, painted individual plants on tables and imprinted their flowers and leaves in the clay. We obtained a catalog of new and old plants that were used for healing.

I needed to talk to the old man about what he did in the operation. About how he separated my feelings from the feelings of the patient. So I asked the boy for translation help.

"There's no magic in that," he told me, smiling. "After all, you do it yourself when you try to calm down. You only meet their expectations and they will eventually help themselves for the most part. You too subconsciously expected me to help you and you stopped being afraid. "

What he said surprised me. Ninnamaren taught me to distract and divide feelings into smaller parts. It didn't always work out. In some situations I was able to control my feelings, but sometimes they controlled me. No, it wasn't entirely clear to me what the old man meant. What role did fear play in all this?

"Look, you were born with what you were born with. It cannot be canceled. The only thing you can do about it is learn to live with it. When you are afraid, when you try to run away from your abilities, you cannot learn to control them. I know that they bring pain, confusion and many other unpleasant feelings. That's what you run from and then those feelings win over you, "he waited for the boy to translate his words and watch me.

"When you heal the body, you first examine it, find out what caused the disease, and then you look for a cure. It's the same with your ability. You will not find a cure sooner if you do not try to recognize individual feelings - if you run away from them. You don't have to experience their pain as your own. "

I thought about his words. As I tried to calm the patients down, I imagined scenes that were associated with pleasant emotions. So I passed on my feelings of peace and well-being to them. It was the same the opposite. They transmitted pain and fear to me, and I just accepted them - I didn't fight them, I didn't try to confuse them with others.

I didn't even try to find the cause of what made him feel. It was clear in a sick body. I perceived a sore and sad soul, but I did not try to heal it - the fear of their feelings prevented me from doing so and prevented me from thinking about them.

"You know," the old man said, "I'm not saying everything is always so smooth. But it is worthwhile to try - at least to try, to explore what we are afraid of, although it is not pleasant. Then we have a chance to learn to accept it. "He finished and was silent. He looked at me with full understanding and waited.

"How?" I asked.

"I do not know. I'm not you. Everyone has to find the way themselves. Look, I don't know how you feel, I can only guess from the look on your face, from your attitude, but I don't know what's going on inside you. I do not have your gift and I do not experience what you are experiencing. I can't. I'm me - I can only work with what we have, not what you have. "

I nodded. There was no disagreement with his words. "What if what I feel or think what I feel is not their feelings, but my own? Your own idea of ​​what is going on in them. "

"It is possible. That cannot be ruled out either. "He paused," We pass on our knowledge from generation to generation orally. We rely on our memory. You have something that preserves knowledge and knowledge - that is scripture. Try to use it. Search. Find the best way to use your gift for the benefit of others and yours. Maybe it will help those who come after you or those who are on their way to the beginning. "

I remembered the library in Erid. All knowledge written on the tables will be destroyed by the war. Everything collected in a thousand years will be lost and nothing will be left. People will have to start from the beginning. But I didn't know the reason why old writings were being destroyed, old and new technologies were being destroyed.

He stood up and said something to the boys. He laughed. I looked at them. "He said I had to leave for tonight," said the boy. "I learned a lot today."

The time has come for Chul to come to this world. The delivery of the village was a matter for women, but I wanted Sin to help my child see the light of this world. I tried to explain to our women our customs and traditions about them, even though they did not understand, tolerated my decision, and listened closely when I talked about our customs.

Inside the hut, things for the child began to gather. Clothes, diapers, toys and cradle. It was a beautiful period, a period of expectation and joy. A month before me, another woman was born, so I knew what their rituals were and that the joy they were showing was over each new life. It calmed down. I was reassured by the atmosphere that prevailed here. There was no resentment and hostility that I encountered in our former place of work. There was a good climate to bring Chul.Ti into the world.

I was looking at a one-month-old boy and his mother. Both were healthy and full of life. They lacked nothing. That's where the pain started. The woman grabbed the boy and called the others. They began preparing things for childbirth. One of them ran for Sina. None of them entered our hut. They surrounded her and waited if their services were needed.

Sin looked at me. Something did not seem to him. He tried not to notice anything, but we knew too long and too well to hide something. In fear I put my hands on my stomach. Chul. She lived. It calmed me. She lived and tried to get out into the light of this world.

It was a long birth. Long and heavy. I was exhausted but happy. I held Chul.Ti in my arms, and I still couldn't recover from the miracle of the birth of a new life. My head was spinning and I had a fog in front of my eyes. Before I sank into the arms of darkness, I saw Sin's face through the veil of mist.

"Give her a name, please. Give her a name! ”A tunnel opened in front of me and I got scared. There will be no one to accompany me. I felt pain, a huge pain over not seeing Chul. I couldn't be able to hug my baby. Then the tunnel disappeared, and before the darkness surrounded, images escaped my head that I could not capture. My body, and my souls cried for help, defended myself, and experienced a tremendous fear of death, an unfulfilled task, and an unfinished journey. Worried about my little Chul.Ti.

I was awakened by a familiar song. A song that Sin's father sang, a song that a man sang to his son after his mother's death, a song that Sin sang to me when Ensi died. Now he was singing this song to my child. He held him in his arms and swayed. Like his father at the time, he took on the role of mother - my role.

I opened my eyes and looked gratefully at him. He took my daughter and gave her a ceremony: "She's called Chul. Well, lady, as you wished. Let An be blessed by her, let her happy fortune determine her. "

We chose a good place for the birth of Chul.Ti. Quiet and friendly. Separated from the world we knew, from the world war-torn.

We knew that just what Chul. You will grow up, we will have to go on. Gab.kur.ra was too far away and the fact that the war did not go even there, we did not. So far we have been preparing for the trip.

Sin and the old man or boy went to other settlements, so sometimes they were outside the village for several days. The information they provided was not encouraging. We will have to speed up our departure.

One evening they brought a man to our hut. A pilgrim - exhausted by the path and thirsty. They put him in the study and ran for me to the old man's hut, where I worked with the boy on other tables. They came and a strange feeling of fear came over me, an anxiety that ran through my whole body.

I handed Chul.Ti to one of the women and entered the study. I came to a man. My hands shook and my feeling intensified. We washed his body and applied medication. We placed the man in part of Sina's hut so he could rest and regain his strength.

I sat next to him all night, his hand in my palm. I was no longer angry. I understood that he had to fight a fierce battle with himself. If he knew the secrets of our abilities, he had to go through what I was going through when deciding on Chul.Ti's life. His daughter died and he had to accompany her halfway through the tunnel. Maybe that's why he needed time - time to come to terms with what he couldn't influence, what he couldn't prevent. No, there was no anger in me, just fear. Fear for his life. Fear of losing him as much as my grandmother and great-grandmother.

Sin returned in the morning. Acquainted by the boy about the state of affairs, he ran into the hut: "Go to rest, Subad. By sitting here, you will not help him and do not forget that you need strength for your daughter as well. Go sleep! I will stay. "

Upset by a sudden encounter and my fear, I could not sleep. So I took the sleeping Chul.Ti from the cradle and rocked her in my arms. The warmth of her body soothed. Finally, I placed her next to me on the mat and fell asleep. Chul. She held my thumb with her little fingers.

Sin woke me cautiously, "Get up, Subad, get up," he told me, smiling.

Sleepy, with my daughter in my arms, I entered the part of the hut where he lay. His eyes were on me, and images appeared before my eyes.

"You called me," he said without a word, and I felt a great love for him. He sat down.

I placed my daughter carefully in his hands. "His name is Chul. You, Grandpa," I said, tears welling in the man's eyes.

The paths merged.

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