Monday, September 17, 2012

The Forming of the Expedition Team: The Gathering of the Four

It was time to begin the drawing of the four.  I needed an expedition team, and I thought it would be me who needed to do the organizing.  My host, Svet would do it all.  

Let’s name the players.  There’s Svet, the entrepreneur.  She’s my host.  Street smart, ambitious, extroverted and playful.

There’s Sasha.  He’s 36, extremely tall, introverted and a quite thinker.  He has a PhD in engineering and his father is a famous physicist in Russia.

There’s me.  You know me.  Somehow I located the Elixir’s base in Siberia. 
We were going to meet number four.

Svet drives her car, picking Sasha up along the way.  On a rainy Sunday, the three of us enter a modern café on the outskirts of town.  It could have been a café from anywhere in the Western World.  In other words, it didn’t feel that Russian.

The man was sitting down.  He was a thick man, who surmised all of us.  He must have been in his late 40’s to early 50’s.  He had a round face and was Central Asian in origin. 

We sit with him and each of us orders.  I order my usual: a small cappuccino.  The others order their coffees and cakes.  At first, there’s small talk with the Central Asian.  He tells us of his background.

I said, “Yes, but you know, I’m here for the Essence of Immortality.”

Svet translates between us.

He says, “There’s a better ingredient for the Elixir.  It’s the Spirit of Life.”

I said, “Yes, I believe you that the Spirit of Life can be better, but I need the Essence.  The Spirit won’t do what I need it to do.”

He said, “It’s located in the wild mountains, near the entrance of Shamballa.  The Shamans live there.”

Shamballa is the mythical, mystical city of perfection.  Some call it Utopia.  Others just call it the Heavenly City.  I’m not surprised that my elixir is near the entrance of Shamballa.

He goes on, “When you grab the elixir, you must have a Shaman do the ritual.  Otherwise, you will become a slave to the Spirit of the Elixir.  It will never release you.  There is a powerful energy in it that will enslave you.  You must beg it to serve you.

Once, a group of friends and I obtained the Elixir.  We did not do the ritual.  And we brought it back for my father and his friends.  But because they drank too much of it, it made them ill instead of better.  But I do not believe it’s because we did not do the ritual, I believe it’s just because my father didn’t know of the Elixir’s property.”

I said, “Don’t worry about this.  I have a ritual.  It’s called the blood ritual.  It will cleanse the Elixir of the spirits.”

He nodded.

Svet looked up the properties of the Essence of Immortality.  She said, “It says here, whoever finds the Essence will be granted infinite luck and will live 200 years.  It also says the Chinese Emperors sent expeditions for the Essence.”

Sasha listens attentively to what we’re talking about.

I said, “Tell me more about Shamballa.  Have you ever been?”

He smiles and says, “No.  I wish.  But I’ve heard the Heavenly Choir play in Shamballa.”

“What does it sound like?”

“Like church organs.”

“To enter Shamballa, you must be of the highest spiritual level.  I’m not there yet.  Also, during the Communism era, the Soviets destroyed the caves that lead into Shamballa.  I still know where the caves are.”

“Once you enter Shamballa, can you leave it?”

He says, “Yes, you can.  But people who leave tend to become mystics and live much longer than man.  500-1,500 years is what I’ve heard.”

Interesting, I think.  Sasha mentions later his father believes one can live this long.

Svet and him begin to talk about their own destinies, and I take a back seat.  He promises to take the three of us on this expedition. 

Everyone who sat around the table knew felt like we were treasure hunters in a movie.  Yet, all of us were embarking on a spiritual journey that was uniquely made for each of us.  Svet said, "I never knew that you would be coming for this.  I would've never imagined we would all go too." I said, "Yes, we must.  It's important."  

Like you the reader, I don't know if I'm chasing a windmill, or an illusive Holy Grail.  But even if I fail, at least I know I tried and am having fun.  My usual travels were getting boring without a strong sense of purpose.  Now, I have one.  I believe I will be successful because I believe God honors the faithful.

I found out today, he’ll take us next week.  Svet is coming.  I believe Sasha will be too.  Get this: we have to rent a SUV to enter to the entrance of Shamballa.  There are no roads or path into the Mystic Mountains.

I get an email this morning from my best friend from New Zealand.  He has an indirect connection with Svet.  He writes, “I heard you guys are going to look for some magic sh** in the mountains.”  

I guess word is getting around.  I laugh and write back, “Why else would I go to Siberia?”

“I thought you wanted to see Polar Bears.”
“Well, maybe that too.”


  1. Interesting stuff, I can't decide if you are working on your creative
    writing, or have gone completely insane.

    Sounds like you are having fun in any case, which is the main thing.

  2. Hey unknown, I'm not sure either, but I can attest I feel like I have a purpose. What beats that?

  3. Never ever use this font for a blog post again. Please.

    Otherwise, I will be following your posts closely now. This is good =)