Chapter 1
About the karmic protection:

    In my current life I had not such fate circumstances that could quench the fire of my intrinsic discontent. Though that fire was certainly neither bigger nor smaller than the one that makes anybody else suffer, the configuration of fate forced me to take up the path I actually went. Anyway, this path was the only one that opened before me without impassable problems.

    But where was the root of the unsolvable problems so abundant in my life? That was a question that would often arise in my mind. Then once I received the answer. It was no inspiration from ghosts nor was it an idea springing from my heart. It happened in a completely different way.

    The first link of the chain, which showed the reason of my being in such life circumstances, I found in a state when my consciousness sort of separated from the state I was in as my current "I" and returned to the far-off past where my previous incarnations emerged. Since I was interested only in my current fate, I found myself standing right in front of the Crucified one, saying: "Of course, he was the Son of God."

    Since then I would be born over and over again, and would repeatedly die in myself, under the control of my present self-awareness and, at the end of this reincarnation line, I could find that it was just that single merit which let me pass through twenty-four existences as a nobleman!

    In this connection I learnt that if we merely accept the wealth of our state, without adding anything to it, then the merits of fate are being used up. But who would do something else than to only accept the advantages of one’s fortune? And so I also passed through all of my lives equipped with the merits coming from a simple acknowledgement of somebody who lived fully his inner (spiritual) life, namely Jesus.

    It is now my 25th incarnation on the earth since then, and probably nothing would have changed my destinies if I had sat home enjoying good feelings of a socially well-situated man who did not suffer from any of the major passions. However, I did not sit home. I was sitting on horseback and was riding against an enemy, the French army. And the troops, burdened with worries about their existence and overcome with passion to kill, as they were pushed by the instinct of self-preservation, did not care a bit that there was among them a man, whose favourable fate was at stake because it had not been a product of his own effort, blood and sweat, but it had resulted only from a tiny merit, almost theoretical one. And in his unknowing he was shot dead, not in a bad intent but just because it was time of mutual murdering…

    So I have kept going through reincarnations as a good Christian; neither to heaven nor to hell, nor to the purgatory where I would atone for some sin in order to settle in the eternal life or in heaven. The truth is that I want to live, because I have not yet recognized that, except a few fleeting, relatively pleasurable, moments, the life is a huge hardship. Actually, I would not be able to quench the thirst to live, the thirst which naturally adheres to me and which everybody else also possesses, because the thirst to live is in this sense stronger than I am and it would have been stronger than me even if I had known at that time that getting carried away by fighting is also a kind of guilt which is karmically punished in an adequate way.

    And so, afflicted by a non-merit coming from absorption of a soldier in fight and equipped with the lust for life as every living creature, I awake to life in a place that leans its back against the calm hills, and its front turns to the region, the industrial heart of which beats more vividly than anywhere else in our country.

    Even though nobody from our family nor I myself knew about it, I received an astrological confirmation of my last existence, as the just elevated Mars favourably irradiated by the Sun settled in the fifth house of my native horoscope. For my current existence, there was a characteristic cross between the Moon from the tenth, Venus from the fourth, Uranus and Neptune from the second and eighth houses, while the royal Jupiter in the royal sign, emphasized by reception to the Sun and with strong and good aspect to Venus, tried to express the future existence of mine.

    At the time of my first awakening to life, I do not know anything about myself, just as any other newborn creature does not. My mental life is shaped by the environment as any other child’s life of every, but I awake under the influence of a story told by my father about a "priest" who roasted the buttock of his female cook on a red-hot stove just because she was not at his will.

    This story formed my attitude to everything connected to churches. I avoided church in conviction that if I had come too close, the "priest" could have run out with a knife and stabbed it into my neck and then he would have grilled me too, however, for other reasons than in case of his maid. But I did not differentiate between those reasons at that time. Thus, on some Sundays, as I waited for the beloved of my heart (I was seven years old) at the square and watched the area in front of the church where people were gathering for the mass, I was pondering over why those people were not afraid of the priest who could have actually killed and roast them just like that female cook.

    It was a difficult problem that I satisfactorily sorted out by considering those churchgoers as conspirators of the priest... Then there was just a small trouble not to be caught by any of those plotters as I was convinced they could do something bad to me; after all, I could not remember them all and avoid meeting them in the street. That training of mine, the future outcome of which remained unknown to me, was not finished. It should certainly include some religious-ethical elements of my father-anarchist, whom I lost before the sun could complete its eighth orbit round the clock of my life.

    I remember very well the day when I come home from school and see grave faces of mother and my eldest brother, who immediately tell me that I will not have daddy any more, because he died. Indeed, I felt something fatal in it, but how could I think it all to the end? Therefore I had to wait for the silent fate, the grains of which were pouring out of the bulb of time, which has not yet been emptied. And so I, a child, was dragged while sticking to the skirt of my mother who was unable to take the reins of our family’s fortune into her own hands as she was without a husband. Yes! Not in a year’s time after my father’s death I was given a stepfather who permanently repeated to me that I was a lout who could go to work instead of to school. – This lot came true later.

    After my second school vacation, I stop attending school entirely to be at first useful in the kitchen, later I work as a herdsman, a coachman, and a farm-worker, with the same demands and duties as an adult. All that went hand in hand with poverty, hunger and a very bad treatment.

    Off are the times, when I felt that somebody liked me, somebody who used to be formerly my father and who now appears to me as existing somewhere in a world inaccessible to me. I often thought that father should not have brought me to the world, when he was unable to provide for me. It was too soon after his death that I found dislike, the first sign of which I saw in reminders of his mother, my grandmother, that I ate too much because I had no religion and so "the Lord God" did not feed me. I knew simply too well that for the last few months, to my repeated request that I was hungry, my mother was always giving me the same answer: "I have nothing I could give you." It was in 1916, when the poverty for the first time struck the region where we lived and where the industry was preferred to farming.

    Yes. I felt that my father liked me and I was attached to him, too. Despite my sensitivity in my childhood, which made me be frightened of everybody who was of crude nature, I could have felt repulsion even for my father for his atheism, but I did not. His atheism was, as I learnt later, the result of a rough rationalism that found expression in great intelligence. He spoke several languages because he had travelled all over the Austro-Hungarian Empire and all the neighbouring countries. His intellectual faculties, which diverted him from irrational religion, swept him into political activity, where he always stood in the firsts ranks. He never drank alcohol and insisted on morality of an anarchist illuminated by the lucky star of social revolution, in which the workers were to progress to the first ranks of human society. In that respect, he was a worker with all his heart and conviction, and because he was a clever man who was mentally involved in politics, he organized strikes and constantly fought for the improvements of living conditions of labourers. That would often bring him into unpleasant situations that he was always overcoming by saying over and over again that he fought for better living conditions of the children of parents-workers. He went even so far, that he dramatically gave up a position of a mining leader (Vorarbeiter), by means of which the employers wanted to oust him from the political activity, which happened on the initiative of his former workmates who pointed out that he no longer worked but only "laid about him with a stick".

    So he kept the honour of a worker and was ready to sacrifice even the welfare of his family. That was the reason why he rejected the idea of sending any of his children to study; he wanted them all to become labourers, which he esteemed an honour that did not lose for him its value until before his death when he was helpless as he learnt that the other labourers had liked him only as long as he was useful for them as a foremost champion of their economic interests. Thus, at the end of his life, as he was surrendering to a chronic malign illness, he felt a disappointment which could have removed him emotionally from the enthusiasm of a political activist but never from atheism that he supported by the opinion that "the church is an invention of feudalism or capitalism to subdue socially weak people".

    When my father died, having left the flavour of atheism in us, we came at first to his mother, my grandmother, who was the very opposite of him. The church was the alpha and omega of her life philosophy. That may not have necessarily meant anything to me had I not have to confront in my mind the murdering "priest" with the necessity of belief in God, which was, moreover, recommended to the child by someone who wanted the God to feed the child, while she herself did not have to. That was very difficult to cope with and it also resulted in the first mental conflict in my life.

    But we spent only a short time at my granny’s, until it was managed to move our furniture from Northwest to Eastern Bohemia during the wartime. But it was not the end of all troubles. My mother got frantic with fear of having to control the life course of the widow’s family with two children. She sank into hopelessness and then brought us a stepfather who was everything else but a breadwinner of the family.

    "Beat the boy, he doesn’t tidy up, he doesn’t set the fire nor does he make all ready for cooking!" But the boy was not yet nine years old and had too much to manage then. And finally, beating him did not make him better. That is why he used to flee out to meadows, did not attend school, slept nights under the stars in dark nooks of town houses and lived as a scared hare in fear of humans and afraid of fate difficulties. And you, mother, if you had known in what mental disorder your children were, you would not have defended your decision to get married again with the words, "The boy is misbehaved so I have to get him a firm hand". Oh mother, a boy so pliable as yours can be managed by proper treatment, the more so that he is not yet nine years old.

    "She wants a man," I got to know. The experience let me recognize that we began living at the social bottom. That all shaped me…

    Anyway, our family’s falling into insolvency might have been expected, as the real breadwinner, namely our father, departed. A characteristic feature of my mother was an absolute confidence in everybody's goodness and a tendency to give everything away. She was never so "smart" to suspect anybody to mean mischief with her and I remember very well that she immediately gave everybody whatever he or she liked and commended. Thus she gave away her clothing and various little things, even valuables, which she said other people liked, and she felt satisfied that she could make someone happy.

    Thank to her credulity she kept supporting the stepfather for many years, because he was promising again and again that "he would make big money, which should turn our poverty into wealth". That trust in people was incomprehensible even to me, but to my objections she was always giving me the same answer: "… why, the man told me so, you know." Later, when I already had knowledge of mysticism, I took it for the belief of bhutas, viz. the stray ghosts; it corresponds to a sort of punishment for some transgressions committed in previous existences. Nevertheless, that unconditional faith of hers seems to have caused a miracle, because after her death she vanished in the blue of the celestial Dhyani-Buddha of the Middle.

    But my fate of a child proceeded under same conditions. I was already convinced that there was not a single child in the whole world who had a worse destiny than I. And it was not just an assumption; my judgement was based on reality. When other children played and had fun, then I could not, because my head was buzzing: "You have to do this or I’ll beat you up." And so I would go from one task to another. At the same time I felt the weight of poverty that loomed in every corner of our home. Constantly incited, I finally decided to go begging.

    I went round villages from one house to another and begged for a piece of bread or something else. My "successes" were positively acknowledged at home. Of course, I became a "valuable member of our household".

    That "occupation", however, oppressed me unbearably. Probably because in a ragged coat I wore the spirit of my own previous incarnations I did not know about at that time, but I could observe some signs of it. And so I only felt freer when I was almost ten years old. At that time I worked already in the fields and earned money as an equal member of our family. Mother and, of course, the stepfather too, had to keep my age secret and claim I was over 14. The change of our address plus my physical maturity helped. But the fate was not quite favourably inclined to them. After two years of my "special school vacation" my eldest brother after father visited us and finished the idyll of a moneymaking child.

    "The boy must go to school," he threatened. They got frightened of that and so sent me again to school, after two-year’s vacation. I was almost twelve years old already and had gone only two years to school, of which I was many times absent during the second year.

    At school other and stepfather said I should go to the third class. The teacher and the director hesitated. I was barely able to add two numbers under ten. But eventually they decided to let me go to the third class.

    The really most oppressive part of my new coming to school was the infinite uncertainty, shame and depression. I was no longer accustomed to human society and was afraid of every unknown person; I was losing speech in presence of other people and was stuttering in such a way that people could hardly understand me. At the same time I had the feeling that every child in the class held me in contempt and was convinced of my incredible stupidity.

    Later I got accustomed to my schoolmates and caught up on all. I even felt I could go to a higher class. I took advantage of that next year when we moved and I presented myself for the fifth class without showing any school report.

    My eldest brother, however, had been in the military service since 1916 up till then, and so we looked for ways to neglect school as much as possible. Reproaches that I "sponged on the family" flashed over and over again and, in addition, we lived in an unimaginable poverty. Therefore, I had to save our family by producing "slippers" the next year and my mother sold them going from door to door. As a result of that I started attending school as late as in the spring; during the summer and autumn, however, I worked for wages in the field, and in the winter I made slippers again. Thus my school attendance was rather formal.

    As for my physical constitution, I suffered from undernourishment for a long time. The result of malnutrition was night blindness I had suffered from for the last three years. My body was permanently so tired that I walked like a robot, in a tottering and stooped way. At the same time I was arriving at the age of discretion, getting some human intellect, and I began to be concerned for my future life. I started to be afraid of hard work, as it seemed to destroy me. "What shall I do?" I asked myself. It was 1922; since Christmas 1921 I had not attended school any more because in February I would be fourteen years old. The autumn 1921 left in me feelings as if I should have collapsed under the pressure of the hard agricultural work during the harvest of sugar beet, and so I was at a loss about my own existence.

    The path that opened free to me for the future did not result from my will or wish. The spring 1922 came, and so it went without saying that I had to go working as a mason’s labourer. I had no other chances, anyway. I had only four years and a half of school attendance, of which I missed perhaps more than a year, so the chance that remained for me was to be a day-labourer.

    So I worked on building sites carrying water buckets till I was dropping. I trudged from home to work and from work back home. Living on dry bread only, my organism right in the middle of physical development, unbearable oppression from fate troubles and immense shame in the presence of other people, did not conduce with anything reviving to the body as it was so much burdened by heavy physical work. And the family life burdened me so unbearably that I finally decided: I have to leave home.

    It happened one day in the summer 1922. I watched when everybody was gone, pretending sleep. At last! All were out.

    I sprang out of bed and quickly packed my poor stuff, and then, in twenty minutes or so, I was running out to catch a train that should take me more than hundred kilometres away from home, to a German-populated area, to Jablonec nad Nisou (germ.: Gablonz).

    Everything came off happily, if a happy end could have been expected in my situation. I found a job on a building site again, lodging at unknown people, and I lived on my own accord. Home I missed only as an environment where I would have felt at home. But to tell the truth, I was happier to be out of home.

    But the way of life I was leading at that time engraved deep in my being an experience that there was no love among people. If you are able to work and have a job, here are a few crowns as a reward for the work you do, otherwise you can die of your distress arising from the conflict between your emotional and the real life. I saw that situation everywhere. After all, I was among the people who sold their physical power for a few crowns; they gave so much strength that they should have had the right for good living, but they received only hogwash like cattle. In addition, the world gave to those people only the chance to think that when they would be old and helpless, that they would get even less than that, if anything at al.

    And so those people who built visible attributes of technical development of human genus lived as somebody of whom the world regarded as someone whom it could as well do without and who could die of poverty. Dear world, don’t you think you are always treating these people bad?


    There was not any old age insurance for labourers at that time and therefore it frequently happened that people who became disabled or unable to work could only try to live on other people’s alms – as beggars. When that insurance was established a couple of years later, I did not feel anything good in it, either. And really. An extensive medical apparatus was built and inspecting physicians were assigned to recognize the labourers as able to work even when they did not feel well.

    This situation has been worsening up to now. Nobody has a right to feel ill unless a medical committee has recognized him ill. This is the result of obligatory health insurance, the money of which is controlled by the state or authorities. In this case people shall pay, while the state or "medical machinery" only drain money. And if old people are nowadays not entirely thrown upon the mercy of others, still, the pension they invested so much in during their lives will give them only a very poor living.

    But there is nothing to wonder. We live in a world that only thinks of having a lot of means of killing, whose production is more and more expensive. The situation in our country is even so bad that people have to work only for food – unless they are fanatic henchmen of the regime – and the rest is spent for financing aggression and manufacturing arms. Thus the bondage of most people continues even though other slaves, who were originally well-situated and independent citizens of our state, joined the ranks of former slaves; the exception here being only a few chosen fanatics. And people – probably still a lot of them – speak highly of today’s situation because they are unable to figure out that it was only armament that has given them bread which peace – as it was irrational – could not give them…


    This is what I felt and how I was shaped mentally. All that made me suffer ineffably. And the worst thing about it was that even the people, who were so badly afflicted with their fates or affected by the world, could look down on me and call me only an unparalleled fool and wretch who did not deserve compassion but only a nickname "idiot".

    But it was good in spite of all. My life was so bad only because the demerit, coming from the warrior’s passion, mingled with aristocratic feelings. And this is indeed an unbearable combination. Man bears hard his poverty, has something within that makes him prominent before other people, he is not satisfied with a loaf of bread that is paid off by mental stiffness, and here you have, dear sociologists, the origin of nowadays dictators.

    But my life, thank God, took another course than the life of one upholsterer and one pop with unfinished studies. I did not wish to shine by climbing other people’s backs, breaking their necks and by killing them in good faith only to attain power. Well, I was marked by the Crucified one, and thus I did not have the ambitions for which other people must pay and feel that they were treated unjustly. Anyway, my eyesight started to turn to another direction, even though I was not aware of it yet. Maybe I bore within me some token from a vivid vision I had when I was a child, as it was probably a very extraordinary vision in a way.

    I was about five years old as it happened. I was lying in the bed; then suddenly the sounds of singing pots with water on hot stove awakened me. It may have been about 4 o’clock in the morning. My mother was combing her hair sitting on a stool, and my father was to get up soon, because it was a weekday and he worked from six o’clock. There was at least an hour’s journey for him to go to work; that is what my mother used to say.

    I was resting silently on the bed looking up to the ceiling. Suddenly there was a man there. A real, living, man that was floating in the air very close to the ceiling. Suddenly he turned his eyes to me as I thoroughly watched him without breathing a word. He looked at me and then suddenly started to go down towards me…

    That was too strong coffee for me. I jumped out of the bed and hid my face in mother’s lap and said, as my mother told me later: "There is a devil up there!" But I remember until now that I took him for a "silver chimney-sweep" then, so it is possible that I modified the message for my mother in that way.

    My mother was comforting me: "There is nothing up there." Therefore I plucked up my courage after a while and raised my head, but I saw the "silver chimney-sweep" standing very close to me and offering me some case. But as I was still scared, I hid my face into my mother’s lap again… When I dared to look up later, I did not see anything.

    The apparition was inexplicable for me, and I do not know what my mother and father talked about. My father was an anarchist so he would have certainly "explained" the whole event. As for myself, I cannot say I would have observed some traces that the ghost would have left in me. I remained mentally normal as before, except that my eyesight seemed to be roused somehow. That is what I can say today when I can remember that every leaf, the whole earth and everything around me appeared living to me. And then, as the fate was flogging my back like a furious coachman whipping a high-spirited horse, I suddenly found a rescue in a prayer, almost crazy one, in which I could only pronounce: "Lord, please, answer my prayers."

    I prayed with these words permanently, half a year, maybe longer. And it is quite possible that it was caused by that prayer that I achieved pleasure in visions of fairies. I have to remark, though, that it was nothing sudden, surprising, or accompanied by mental fascination. I just went to a little brook that flew out of a little and well visible pond. And suddenly – what is going on there? – I could see vague outlines that were getting brighter and changing into sharp forms. And the pond surface was swelling up in my vision as if it were alive, even though I could see well that it was in reality calm. – Then I saw them. Water nymphs dancing on the surface and their light, muslin-like clothes flowing. They kept on dancing around me on the surface of the ditch while they could see me well. They were turning their faces toward me and were smiling at me as I was spontaneously pulling back my feet so that they would not stumble. That event gave rise to happy feelings in my chest, which healed the wounds given to me by the outer life...

    So I was coming to sit by the pond almost every time when the weather was nice and I was watching the pleasant and encouraging theatre. Water surface was swelling with bubbles as big as half an egg that were then bursting to give birth to angrily-looking little men. They aimed their anger against the dancing undines but it was just about all they could do. They would often hit the surface with their bodies and disappear under water surface while the nymphs went on dancing.

    I was thirteen years old. Then winter came and I became a cobbler slipper-maker. Later, I ran away from home, and the pleasing little feeling that drowned the tearing pains from my outer life was emerging just in my memories.

    Afterwards, the troubles and hardships overshadowed even the beneficial influence of those encouraging but rare memories and, from the contact with life, a conviction arose in me that life was a cruel, merciless, fight that did not spare anybody. I felt that in myself, maybe particularly because I appeared so strange to everybody, even to a close person. At the same time it seemed to me that the whole life struggle just went by the motto: "pull devil, pull baker"(who’s going to win the race?) and so I started to head for that way.

    Firstly, I have to spoil my character, I pondered. I have to hobnob with those who would spare nobody and from whom I could learn how to get through various life situations. – That plan of mine did never come true, though, because the fate progressed faster than I.

    Winter approached and construction works were no more needed so there was nothing for me to do but to think of what to do further. I was in a strange town, among almost only Germans, and I would have had troubles enduring the winter there.

    Therefore I returned back to my brother, near the place where my mother lived. Brother told me: "It cannot go on like this with you. Something must happen." Finally he stated: "You shall become an apprentice".

    Of course, I would have liked learning shoemaker’s work of which I knew a great deal. My brother, however, did not see it a good living. "You will learn such a trade where you can get something to eat," he decided.

    What a terrible verdict. I needed to learn something where I could show my initiative, but to learn the trade that should promise a problematic "eating" made me desperate. I could not even think of asking my brother to let me stay at his place till the spring, before I should go to work on building sites again when I could not learn what I would have liked to. And knowing this made me outraged. Thus I went to become an apprentice with a chance to get some food, though I did not want [to have a chance to eat].

    In that situation it seemed that I lost my very last support. I should work at nights without any prospect of becoming independent in the future, and I even lost hope to find a place where I could overcome a possible illness.

    I enjoyed very good health, though I felt permanently fatigued to death. At the same time I was depressed by the thought that I should work manually without any need for creative initiative and mental development, so I was vividly afraid of becoming similar to people who, owing to their unsophisticated and monotonous, hard, work, became mentally indifferent or even died mentally, so that they appeared to me as animated by only a few instincts and drives. That seemed so horrible to me that I thought I had lost my life forever. And so I sank into hopelessness that I deemed should last forever.

    Thus I remembered once again the morally corrupted community with which I should have tried to equal. I thought about prostitutes, unbearable smell of pubs and about a revolt against the social order. And fate was awake and patiently waiting in the meantime…

    Then I met a young man, six years my senior. He was the first person from a poor family, who had, in my opinion, some ideals. He used to tell me that man should be moral and honest and should always try to improve himself. That was new music to my ears.

    Can I believe it? Is there really somebody like me, with the same ideals? There is indeed someone who also feels strongly about the good and morality. – I would rather have expected to see somebody falling down from heaven than to encounter something like that. And that made me decide: If morality is of value, be it only for the single man I met, I will go this way.

    But it was all too little for me. A hurricane of discontent began to rage in my chest. My dissatisfaction was strengthened by finding out that the values sealing my heart were only values of people, and thus I wanted to gain them all at once. But it does not always go so quickly. I had to seek and create prerequisites. However, not even that was so easy to achieve.

    Some time later my friend came up to influence my life with an instructive book. – It was a book on yoga with an emphasis on body culture, but at the end of the book there were mentions of spiritual life. – A dazzling lightning struck my mind: "This is exactly what I have been looking for. So I will try to take pains." – But that seemed to be not sufficient, either. So I sought further…

    The second book I found myself already. The promises given there were even more magnificent than in the first booklet. But there were also hard moral obligations. So I came to investigate myself with respect to those commitments. They meant a separation from my whole hitherto lifestyle. I considered whether I would be able to achieve such a feat. I observed myself for fourteen days and then concluded that it might be possible. Then I resolved: Well, I will begin tomorrow by renouncing the world in my mind, reason and consciousness. At the same time, in order to secure myself, I prayed: "God – whom my father tried to uproot from me – I will do my best; if I don’t manage something, you will have to forgive me…"

    How strange the world is. Since my childhood I had been among people who did not have any other concerns than how to gain profit from other people and things, which had led me to a belief that all people were of that sort. That made me come to the conviction that the world I was forced to live in was terrible and unfriendly in all respects. And the worst thing is that even up till now I have not rid myself of that conviction. And I cannot avoid this opinion although I know very well that people are captured by combativeness that does not spare other people’s feelings, combativeness to which both the poorest and the wealthy people – those who are engaged in business activity – succumb, even though I am well aware that all these people suffer in the one way or another, yet I also know that they do love this combativeness. I can actually diagnose it as a characteristic illness of the world, and I suppose that without this fight the world would be a paradise. And what seems to be tragicomical is that everyone, being himself captured by this fight, would like to be himself saved from rapaciousness of the others. It follows from this that it is a moral defect, a primary sign for forming fate distress – and albeit it is "only" a moral flaw, yet people will remove it – if they ever try to – with a lot more difficulties than external evil that they attempt to eliminate with machine guns.

    Well, social maladies have their roots in moral imperfections; I know this with certainty now. I am sure that nobody will either rob or murder anybody if he does not foster such thoughts. But not to foster thoughts of this sort is a requirement which contradicts sharply to normal tendencies of human nature. This makes the purity of thoughts a moral task so the opposite cannot be considered only a bad character, proliferating like poisonous weeds among good characters. The so-called bad characters can lean upon a common opinion on morality, upon the world’s example, and so it may be regarded as a universal moral disease which entire mankind fell prey to. Strictly speaking, there are only very few people who would not be at war with human society to gain their own personal advantages and so would not create conditions for a downfall of less capable people. It is a murder that people commit against socially weaker individuals, often because the latter are in better fate positions or, more distinctly speaking, in better economical circumstances. I can supply evidences of it from my own life. While I evolved myself by means of yoga mentally over other people who had a relative excess of education, yet I was officially regarded as an unable person. Today however, I cannot say it matters very much. I won a prize in another battlefield, a prize, due to which my life is illuminated by infinite wisdom that once for all dissolved all the "whys" so densely present in the lives of all people.

    Anyway, up to that time I had gone through a period of an unknowing, benighted, person, oppressed by the circumstances, and seeking relief, happiness and liberation under the pressure of karma. I did not know that happiness and freedom were internal issues of people and thus I suffered equally as those who did not awake in their whole lifetime. And if I later resolved the mysteries of life in the sense of troubles accompanying it, then it was certainly karma that made it possible for me to get confidence and, later, to conceive the teaching that, as far as I know, is quite unfamiliar to worldly people as for its purpose. My life was in that respect rich in merits, and the hard circumstances of the future could not change anything about that. Those conditions only appeared as annealing process which fired all remnants and impurities of the high-quality gold of cognition that bore all requisite positive signs. And thus in the future, namely since that very moment of my life, I must not complain about hard fate in the inner sense, only in the outer sense. And this is a good promise in regard of the karmic solution of life, which shows the quality of karma that follows beings beyond the grave.