In Search of the Miraculous

I began a series of experiments or exercises, making use of a certain experience in

this direction that I had acquired earlier. I carried out a series of short but very

intensive fasts. I call them "intensive" because I did not take them at all from the hygienic point of view but tried, on the contrary, to give the strongest possible shocks

to the organism. In addition to this I began to "breathe" according to a definite system which, together with fasting, had given me interesting psychological results before;

and also "repetition" on the method of the "prayer of the mind" which had helped me very much before to concentrate my attention and to observe myself. And also a series

of mental exercises of a rather complicated kind for the concentration of the attention.

I do not describe these experiments and exercises in detail because they were, after all, attempts to feel my way, without having exact knowledge of possible results.

But all these things taken together, as well as our talks and meetings, kept me in a

state of unusual tension and to a great extent, of course, prepared me for the series of

extraordinary experiences which I had to go through in August, 1916, because G. kept

his word and I saw facts and at the same time understood what G. meant when he said that many other things are necessary before facts.1

These other things consisted in preparation, in understanding certain ideas, and in

being in a certain state. This state, which is emotional, is exactly what we do not

understand, that is, we do not understand that it is indispensable and that facts are not possible without it.

1 Chapter One, page 30.

I now come to a most difficult thing because there is no possibility whatever of

describing the facts themselves.

Why?

I have often put this question to myself. And I could only answer that there was far

too much in them of what was personal for them to be made common property. And I

think that it was so not only in my case but that it always is so.

I remember that assertions of this kind always made me indignant when I came

across them in the memoirs or the notes of people who had passed through any sort of

extraordinary experiences and afterwards refused to describe them. They had sought

the miraculous and, in one form or another, they thought they had found it. But when

they had found what they sought they invariably said: "I have found it. But I cannot describe what I have found."—It always seemed to me to be artificial and invented.

And now I found myself in exactly the same position. I had found what I sought. I

saw and observed facts that entirely transcended the sphere of what we consider

possible, acknowledged, or admissible, and I can say nothing about them.

The principal part of these experiences was in their inner content and in the new

knowledge which came with them. But even the outer aspect could be described only

very approximately. As I have already said, after all my fasts and other experiments I

was in a rather excited and nervous state and physically less steady than usual. I

arrived at the country house of E. N. M. in Finland, at whose house in St. Petersburg

we had of late often had our meetings. G. and about eight of our people were there. In

the evening the talk went on our attempts to tell about our lives. G. was very harsh

and sarcastic, as though he was trying to provoke now one, now another of us, and in

particular he emphasized our cowardice and the laziness of our thought.

I was particularly affected when he began to repeat in front of everyone something

I had told him in absolute confidence, what I thought of Dr. S. What he said was very

unpleasant for me principally because I had always condemned such talk in others.

I think it was at about ten o'clock that he called me, Dr. S., and Z. into a small

separate room. We sat on the floor "Turkish fashion" and G. began to explain and to show us certain postures and physical movements. I could not help noticing that there

was an astonishing assurance and precision in all his movements although the

movements and postures themselves did not present any particular problem and a

good gymnast could have done them without exceptional difficulty. I had never had

any pretensions to the role of an athlete but I could imitate them outwardly. G.

explained that although a gymnast could of course do

these movements the gymnast would do them in a different way from him and that he

did them in a special way with muscles relaxed.

Afterwards G. again passed to the question why we could not tell the story of our lives.

And with this the miracle began.

I can say with complete assurance that G. did not use any kind of external methods,

that is, he gave me no narcotics nor did he hypnotize me by any of the known

methods.

It all started with my beginning to hear his thoughts. We were sitting in a small room with a carpetless wooden floor as it happens in country houses. I sat opposite G.,