The Secret
Created on 09/24/2008The Secret
Hi Everybody!
With this blog entry I am going to complete a cycle, which I called “Breaking The Walls”.
If you're visiting this blog for the first time, please take a moment and read through previous entries, at least briefly, before you proceed. The following will make different sense for you if you do it this way.
It was November of 2006 when I first found Cliffhouse in the small village of Manitou Springs near Colorado Springs.
Compared to California, where I lived at the time, Colorado felt more frozen than Siberia. The air was stiffly freezing, and the altitude gave me invisible punches; even the simplest physical efforts left me short of breath. The sky was grey and low, and seemed soaked with electricity and ready to explode in a stream of lightening at any moment. I recalled Tesla and his experiments with electricity in this place 107 years ago. He chose this place for its unusual electrical activity. It seems not much has changed since then. I didn’t plan to conduct any experiments in this place. It was a personal trip, quite unplanned. I came there to spend my birthday with friends, to visit a new place, somewhere not too far away from home in California.
I know from having grown up in Siberia, how my mood and my state of mind can make me comfortable and warm even in the middle of the coldest weather and how it can equally turn it into an unbearable nightmare being outside in the cold when my mood was not into it. The moment I sensed Colorado’s cold air, my mind rebelled and I had a feeling that this trip would be a waste of time, full of frustration and unnecessary flashbacks to a bunch of uncomfortable memories I was trying to forget. And of course, as is usually the case with expectations, reality obeyed and gave me plenty of little things to feed my frustration with. The food was bad, the hotel was full of some sport convention guys, all dressed in identical Addidas suits, with loud voices and never-ending beer drinking; they occupied every corner of the hotel and took away any hope I had of a private, reclusive weekend. The electricity was irritating too, it was impossible to touch any door knob or any metal surface for that matter without being shocked. “Happy fucking birthday,” I said to myself and felt rage boiling inside as I tried to remember to use my left hand to open the doors so the glove I wear after the accident would protect me from another electrical shock.
“I want to go home,” I started hearing this little voice in myself, a familiar little girl’s whining I used since being a child to get away from uncomfortable feelings. “Or get a drink in a bar or something,” an older part of me barked. “Whatever… I just want it to be over…” And as I caught myself in the middle of this inner dialogue fueled by my built up anger, I didn’t have a choice but to admit to myself for the first time since Africa, that the true frustration was caused by my final realization that no more miracles would ever happen to me in this life, and that it was over for good. It was time to get over it and just stop hoping. That’s probably why I hadn’t travel much since March of 2005, not because of post-accident fear or anxiety but because deep down I accepted the fact that there were going to be no more miracles for me and waiting for a miracle had always been the main drive behind all my travels in the past. And life never disappointed. It gave me a chance to have extraordinary experiences in so many exotic places, to meet strangers who became transformers in my life and to have dreams I never had dreamt of having. So that’s why Colorado seemed so frustrating at first sight, because secretly I hoped that it would become one the mystical places for me, like New Mexico or Uzbekistan had been… Yet, it was nothing but cold biting electricity and a bunch of drunk athletes. Damn.
There were still the tourist activities to accomplish, or at least so my friends said. “You have to visit the Garden of Gods. Don’t make this face please. You think it’s corny, don’t you? But you may actually like it... Well, there are a couple of historical museums, just for your information. And yes, everybody who visits Colorado Springs should go to Pikes Peak.”
“Everybody?” I wasn’t even trying to be sarcastic. I just wanted to go home and to be away from this cold and unfriendly place.
“You for sure should go. You used to like the mountains, didn’t you?”
“I guess I’ll go.”
The train was surprisingly long, and the small station at the bottom of Pikes Peak Mountain was full of people waiting to board, most of them gathering inside a small shop to stay warm. So when the train opened its doors, the seats in all the cars were filled quite quickly and I wondered where all these people had come from. Nobody was talking much, people were just looking outside, waiting for the train to start climbing. And for the next forty minutes or so, it did. The railroad was going up quite steeply, the speed was very slow and the guy with a microphone who was making the same jokes for the thousandth time, still managed to keep our attention. It was like gradually and slowly going into some sort of trance, the rhythmic iron sound of the train’s wheels, the slight shaking of the car on its way up, the isolated beauty of mountain life outside the window, changing from last year’s brown grass on the dirt sides next to the railroad to bright, white-blue primordial snow and then into fantastic figures of brilliant ice as the train was marching its way up to the top.
I forgot my irritation. The mountain took me in. The life on it, even though invisible to the travelers behind the train windows was so present, omnipotent and independent from humans, that it was easy to let go of my preoccupations and just be there, being lifted to the top of the mountain as if by some miracle.
And then I got it. The truth is whenever we are looking for extraordinary experiences, miracles, enlightenment, transformation, etc, we are looking to feel a certain way. We are traveling to faraway lands to find our own feelings. But they are always inside like any other feelings, mystical or not.
When we think that we are looking for extraordinary experiences (our own or described by others such as in my books), we are looking for powerful triggers to initiate the magical mystical core of our existence. The reason we are looking for it is because we have all had it. As children. Some of us remember it clearly, some don't, just the longing for what once felt like perfect understanding of one's purpose and connection to life and everything in it. So we keep looking, traveling, searching.
The colorfulness of the situation we find ourselves in (like being in Samarkand, for example) dresses the mystical feeling into a multitude of associated sensations (the taste of bread in the bazaar, the warmth of wind touching my face, the exotic yet familiar sound of a tambourine). The mystical feeling is primal and is remembered from childhood. The new environment is just another stage for remote memory to get activated and to enter our awareness.
That is what I was thinking as I stepped out of the train onto the icy ground at the top of Pikes Peak. The lightheadedness from the lack of oxygen was making things around spin slightly and the freezing cold didn’t matter any more. The Sun looked so close, closer than I have ever seen it, and it made all the difference in my mood and seemed to do the same for everyone around. People were laughing, everybody appeared happy, yet a little bewildered. We could see 360 degrees around with a majestic panorama open in all four directions below. I looked at the silhouette of the mountain ridge going all the way to my beloved New Mexico. Far away on the horizon, I saw shapes fading away and there was almost no distinction between where the earth ended and the sky began. And then I looked at the sky. For the first time since Africa, I saw that it was not dead and empty, was not just a beautiful, mechanical decoration in my external reality, but was full of miracles and open and I could feel it again.
I had a cup of hot chocolate in a little café at the top of the mountain which somehow made my lightheadedness pass and soon we were all back in our seats as the train began to crawl cautiously downhill.
There were two middle-aged people sitting in front of me, who were holding hands and whispering to each other on the way up, avoiding any eye contact with me by staring out the window. That was fine with me since I wanted to keep my privacy too. Yet, on the way back things changed completely and these two strangers started talking non-stop as if they had received some invisible order to not stop talking until the train had stopped. And they started talking to me. They felt compelled to tell me the story of how they met over the internet and fell in love and how their story was full of significant signs and they were meant to be together and how happy they were. I was polite and listened, they didn’t bother me, they were quite cute, even though something seemed indescribably odd about this couple. I tried to identify something in their manner and appearance that was causing the strange feeling in me, but I couldn’t point it out. I finally decided that they looked like two aliens who were trying to appear human, but who didn't have enough time to learn all the details of this pretence so some little things were profoundly off and they were not even aware of it. This notion seemed funny to me, so I just kept listening to the details of their romance and honeymoon, without paying too much attention when the woman said:
“That’s why we decided to marry on the same day as our birthday.”
“Our?”
“We both have birthdays on the same day, November 17th, that’s how we knew we were supposed to meet when we started writing to each other,” the man said. His long, wool scarf was hanging loosely around his long, white neck and half of his jacket was unbuttoned with only a light t-shirt underneath, yet the cold seemed to not bother him at all.
“Today is our first anniversary and we came back to the Cliffhouse to celebrate.” The woman was staring at me intently as she said this. Her stare was not intimidating or impolite, it was just plain off. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.
“You're kidding, right?” My reaction didn’t seem unusual or confusing to them. They just kept looking at me, not even asking what surprised me so much.
“November 17th is my birthday. It is my birthday today, I can’t believe what you just said…”
They didn’t look surprised at all.
“Oh good, then you should just go and visit the Cliffhouse too.” The woman was Caucasian and had no accent, was in her mid-fifties and dressed casually; nothing in her appearance stood out, however, I wouldn’t be able to place her in any culture, almost as if she had no history.
“Doesn’t it seem strange to you that of all the people on this train, more than a hundred probably, I am sitting in front of two people who not only share my birthday, but who have their wedding anniversary on the same day and it happens to be today?”
They laughed nervously and held each other's hands tightly.
“It is strange, isn’t it?” That’s all they said with no particular expression and then immediately they started telling me about the Cliffhouse.
“You have to see it. This place has an amazing history, it feels like nothing else. The rooms are so unique, and the atmosphere is full of mystery. I bet a lot of things happened in those rooms, some may never be known. But the Cliffhouse is a jewel.”
As I was deciding what to ask them first – to show me their IDs with their DOB or to ask them if they were part of some weird PR campaign for local hotels, the train made a final jerk and everybody started moving toward the exit. The couple disappeared, as if they had dissolved into the thin, cold air, leaving just a little trace of steam behind. I could almost hear them laughing lightly, as they re-shaped themselves into something more familiar. Or maybe they just hurried back to celebrating their anniversary. Odd things happen after all, I knew that much by now. I just smiled and walked back to my car.
Even though I hadn't been to this place before, I didn’t have to ask anyone for directions to the Cliffhouse. It was just a few blocks away on the side street, and somehow in my gut I knew exactly which turn to take to get here. It was almost instinctual when I followed this magnetic pull that led me toward an old building that looked so familiar it almost brought tears to my eyes. It was full of love and full of history and as I walked toward its doors for the first time and entered the warm, traditionally furnished hall with paintings on the wall and light music playing in the background, I knew it was a place for change. And I knew that my recognition of this place, so strong and unpredictable without ever seeing it before, came mostly from the future and not from the past. That’s how I knew that this place had a different relation to time. I remembered Tesla and his electricity. I wondered if he had ever visited this place? As I left the Cliffhouse that day and walked around, every little street seemed so familiar, and the whole town of Manitou Springs was alive and full of joy that evening. There were small Christmas lights decorating shops and restaurants. Little beautiful dolls were looking at me through the windows and the air was full of such a charm that it felt like a newly found celebration of life. And before it became dark and the stars came out to watch over this magical place, I looked up at the sky one more time and though it was grey on this cold evening, it was still alive, still full of electricity and I could feel it and all the walls in my memory starting to go down and I knew that this was a safe place to heal.
I saw the sky there in this way every time I went back to the Cliffhouse, last time just a few weeks ago. Every visit there has been more than an experience of physical space. I would enter a stream of transformation, where nothing was easy but everything was real and where the crossroads to healing became available for me every time I went back. I don’t know how, but Tesla’s electricity worked in that place. It’s almost like the invisible lightning he was trying to tame became the strings that connected my grounded, everyday physical survival with invisible spheres that were actually determining my fate. Or at least this was the way it felt.
I started contemplating the Cliffhouse and in some strange way felt that the future Cliffhouse was contemplating me, its space was approaching and defining itself as my state of mind.
That is how the idea for this website originally emerged.
And now before I say good night, I want to invite you to the Cliffhouse. I invite you to follow my words as you continue reading, so my words become a key to your own unique room inside the Cliffhouse which is made only for you and which will be there whenever you are ready to visit it. It doesn’t have to be today. You can just stop reading and turn the page and go somewhere else. Or you can stay focused on taking this key to your room in the Cliffhouse that I offer you now and you can start opening the door.
Welcome.
Everything happens here with no sense of time, it’s a house made of another substance, the rules here are different and those rules are more yours than any other rules you encounter in any other place, because you are creating them now.
You are inside the room and it is not an exercise in visualization, it is not an external image, it is a tapping into the space that is always there, in you, part of you, and we call this space your room in the Cliffhouse and you are welcome here.
You can stop any time. And you can continue entering the space if you choose so now. It doesn’t matter how destructive your environment can be as you’re reading, as long as you’re reading, your room in the Cliffhouse is taking shape, more so as you read along. You may see some pictures on the wall, you may notice the window and it is probably somewhat dark outside, you can find a place to sit - in the chair, in the loveseat, on the corner of the bed, or you can choose to keep standing and look around. The external doesn’t matter. Your state of mind does. And everything I wrote for you so far serves to facilitate you entering a state of mind from where miracles can start happening. I leave it up to you to fill this space with the furniture of your choice, with pictures of your choice, with memorabilia of your choice. I let you choose the sounds that you would like to hear in your room unless you want to keep your silence. Whenever you choose to come back to your room in the house you will always have a choice to rearrange it in a way that is best for the moment. So you have it. And now I am going to tell you the secret. I know that there is a protective mechanism inside our minds that will help you to use and understand the information only in the way that is beneficial and safe for you. The secret is that you are not alone. Even in this most remote corner of your psyche, where you travel away from destruction of external reality, even in the midst of the most subjective fabric of your imagination, here, inside your mind, in this room, you are not alone. And you are not the only one responsible for your life and its direction. There is another one inside of you. The one who knows about you all the way and the one that you never knew about before. I call him a Memorymaker. The secret is that there’s more than just one storyline of your life where you can apply your intention and make changes the way you believe you would like to. It hardly happens this way. You are a multitude of narratives. The complexity is not in the storyline of the narrative you think you are living at this point. The complexity is in the way the stories of your life intertwine with each other and in their invisible hierarchy that defines your life direction. The Memorymaker creates this web of stories and knows the entire pattern of your life before it starts. When you want to make a change outside the box you have to go back to the Memorymaker and ask for the transformation. And the Memorymaker is a child. And our life is his playground. You can resent it, you can try to change it, most often you forget about it, or you can find a way to play with your Memorymaker and to become the co-creator of your life. That is why I am helping you create your room in the Cliffhouse so it can become easier for you to enter a space where you can face your Memorymaker and initiate the transformation you want. Welcome. And when you leave the Cliffhouse today, at some point I want you to look at the sky and remember what we were talking about in regard to inner space and its walls, and I want you to feel how your feelings have expanded and how your space inside mirrors the sky after you visit your room in the Cliffhouse. I want you to get ready, if you choose so, to start experiencing the Memorymaker of your life, who can bring any changes to you and who can do it easily and safely. And I will be inviting you in the future to your own unique room in the Cliffhouse that you already visited today so you can continue this experience.
Have sweet dreams,
Love,
Olga
Comments
Beautiful, Olga, most beautiful indeed…
And this comment: ‘’And I knew that my recognition of this place, so strong and unpredictable without ever seeing it before, came mostly from the future and not from the past.’’ Have felt the same sometimes --a recognition that didn’t have to do with the past but with the future, as strange and counter to linear logic as it may seem…
Thanks.
And all very best wishes!
Isn’t there something odd with the date on your post, 09/24/2008?
By Julio on 10/28/2008Hello Olga,
Last July, I read two of your books, “The Inner Circle”, and “Master of Lucid Dreams.” after I did some on-line research regarding Buryat Shamanism that led me to your writings. I have made five music tours to the west central land of the Udmurt Republic since 2003, where I lived, played music, and gave master classes throughout the region. I traveled with famous Udmurtian folk musicians and toured to in many small villages where I met and became friends with many people who definitely were very much in tune with “old ways” of doing and perceiving things. Many were the Finno Ugric ethnic Udmurtians--my main contact is of that background. Her familys’ totem clan animal is the Elk. Several of my friends were connected with Altai--later I met and “jammed” with a Tuvan Shaman who invited me through a festival agent to come and perform in Tuva (which I have yet to do). In any case, what you talk about in your books (Russian orphanages, scenery in general,high rise apartment buildings, Altai, Russian spirituality, food, trains, etc.)are all part of my experience. I don’t claim to be any kind of expert on Russia--let alone the mystical and shamanistic aspects found in that vast land, but I am definitely more experienced thann the average American. Put another way, most of the villagers I visited had never before seen an American. What I read in your books was quite familiar, and what I did not have personal experience with nor understanding (the Shamanism), I definitely have become aware of. Such concepts are at the heart of the Finno Ugric peoples and it is always there right below the surface of their rich spiritual lives--which, of course is presented on the surface as Russian Orthodoxy.
I also have a good friend in Uzbekistan who has been trying to get us to visit there--Samakand in particular. Perhaps one day soon that can happen!
I am very interested in what you are exploring. While doing some simple research I was very surprised to discover that you reside in the USA--and then, coincidentally, in Santa Barbara--the one place my wife and I travel to frequently from our home in Iowa. Our daughter lives in Santa Barbara with her young family! And, we have in turn purchased a vacation home on Shoreline Drive. Do you still live and work in SB? If so, do you occasionally give seminars, etc.?
I will keep visiting Cliffhousepublications.com for your updates. (I went to 315 Meigs Road just today to look for the Cliffhouse Publications office--but I figured out it is-or was-a mailing address only.) Your writing is fascinating--thankyou for keeping in touch with your Cliffhouse postings for those of us interested in all that you have to say.
Best always,
Patrick Hazell
http://www.patrickhazell.com
Thankyou for this beautiful and priceless gift
Olga.
Love,
Graham
By Graham on 10/30/2008Thank you very much for this post Olga.
The “stories” (because they are not concepts) that emerge from your words, although highly symbolistic (somehow beyond “logic"), when they are put into practice feel like two “worlds” are being connected. And, as you said, they are not “visualization” exercises since their effects can be seen directly in the “real” world. It is just wonderful.
I do believe some walls are being broken. Thank you.
Welcome back Olga.
By Magali on 10/31/2008Dear Olga
Thank you so much for your post. It means a lot to me because it has suddenly brought together several themes which have been creating confusion in my life. In fact for the past two days I have been sitting at home alone quietly trying to meditate and calm my emotions when I decided to look to see if there was a new post on your website. There was. I have read it, entered my room, experienced the Memorymaker and now everything has become so much clearer. You will understand my feelings when I read that your birthday, and that of the couple on the train, was 17 November, because that is the date of my birthday too! I felt a tingle of rejuvenating energy. Thank you so much.
David
Dear Olga,
Thank you so much for this.
I feel a confusion because my head wants to understand what is going on now,and it doesn’t
but my heart does and it speaks a language my “I”
doesn’t understand.That’s how it feels anyway. I really wonder who I am.Not this small “head-I” for sure that wants to understand ,cathegorise,label this experience.
As soon as you took me into the house and my room
my heart responded with a warm ,swirling,sensation.
Today,the day after,my heart has a presence as if
it were a friend or had a very personal presence almost living a life of its own. It feels a bit
like it speaks to me.Also ,my dreams were stronger
than usual and I feel more refreshed upon wakening
up than usual.
In my room there was a dark,mystical,beautiful
lady who’s presence moved me to tears but also scared me because she was a bit ghost-
like.
And there was also a party of people in a very festive,happy mood who invited me into their circle.It felt like they celebrated christmas and
their clothing was from the 1900s it seemed.
I am very grateful-if any words can describe how I feel -for this experience and I wish you all the best.
Monika
By Monika on 11/08/2008Hi Olga,
just to say thanks for this beautiful writing which changes . . . I was going to say from an external descriptive mode to a description of the Cliffhouse from within . . . but I’d rather say exemplifying transformation.
By Jed Pemberton on 11/15/2008Hi Olga,
Since tomorrow is your birthday (it is Sunday night here) Happy Birtday!!
Your writing above reminds me of NLP. Beautifully done though. Some of the practioners could learn from you.
Love Keith
By Keith Newcomb on 11/16/2008Dear Olga
Happy Birthday!
Love
David
Dear Olga & fellow explorers
I’m writing this with all my warmest clothes on. It’s not even that cold outside, but with pathetic heating and next-to-no-insulation in our attic apartment, the chill reaches us first in pigeon altitude in Berlin. Yet, you have warmed my heart, Olga with your inspirational writing and fellow travellers meeting on the path of internal quest. Thank you. It truly is a sanctuary of reflection and healing here in the virtual space of cliffhouse. I am captivated by the possibilities and touched by the honest and open sharing of experiences and advice for dealing with trauma and emotional pain. It means something, particularly now when the world seems to be having multiple crises, ecological, spiritual, economical. I feel like chicken licken when the sky fell down. But I’m still here, living and breathing despite calamitous events, and perhaps it is the right time to reach out and make contact with others who look for the same thing (maybe that is an assumption to say the ‘same’) Well, I can say what I’m looking for … what am I looking for? Today, I’m looking for my source of internal strength, to find a balance and equilibrium to cope with life’s ups and downs, plus a sense of wonderment and appreciation, whether that is magic, creativity or synchronicity. I know that when I find my own path of healing and restoration, I want to be able to share that with others and help generate some more light of inspiration. Secretly I want a miracle too, but I’m scared to stretch that far out, as I know the disappointment of not experiencing one. As I read and explore, I have come to the conclusion that ‘belief’ has a big role to play. Those who truly believe in something can make it real and I’m not just talking about religious belief, but something deeper, something all-encompassing. I guess this includes self-belief. I think this is where the healing of trauma comes in. Doesn’t a person have to believe they can be healed? I have to admit this is where all my own questions crop up. The aboriginal people say we create our own reality and I hear this again and again, so it must be true. I’d like it to be true. Sometimes the bare grey humdrum of life seems to deny this, and some things are just plain shitty or worse, but wonders do happen, implausible, fantastic …miracles. The human being is an uncharted wonder. As much as medicine or science knows about the human; physical, mental or spiritual, there is as much that is unknown, little understood and quite frankly, amazing. There are a myriad of differing theories about our existence, our capabilities, our origins and an equally bewildering barrage of advice about how to conduct our lives. I know I have to make peace with myself and I have to believe in my chosen sources of advice. How do I do that? I pick the ones I feel a resonance with, the ones that feel right, the ones without bullsh!t. I think you have done that Olga. I appreciate your openness and down-to-earth humour that really strikes a chord, though you may have to write a bit more often to keep my feet warm in these temperatures! And fellow explorers… pleased to meet you too. I look forward to sharing and discovering new and re-found wonder.
With love
Ax
http://www.axartworks.com
http://www.myspace.com/artpoliceberlin
http://www.myspace.com/alicelister
Hi Olga,
I must admit I am curious about what Julio finds unusual about 09/24/2008. Also, I share Ax’s desire to hear from you more often. This is because more participation from you keeps the excitement alive (at least for me).
Love Keith
By Keith Newcomb on 01/05/2009Hi Olga,
I meant to include in my post just above that; you tell us that you need us. Clearly we need and want you too.
with love
Keith
This is my third attempt at a post. I know it’s not difficult unless you press the preview button or forget to enter the secret code.
I loved your birthday story and could imagine Manitou Springs since I have been there a number of times. Somehow, though, I didn’t see the Cliff House. I’m afraid the Garden of the Gods and local shopping was as far as I got.
Your descriptions of the mysterious couple made me smile. Your humor and basic joy in living danced through your writing while your intelligent, inquiring mind held the ground.
Thanks for the guidance in creating our own room in the Cliffhouse. The idea of an inner Memorymaker is intriging.
I look forward to your thoughts, humor and wisdom you may choose to share with us in 2009.
I wish for you in 2009 many miracles, small but regular enlightenments, and deep-in-the-belly smiling joy, and, of course, much love.
with affection and appreciation,
Sara
By Sara J on 01/18/2009Hello Olga,
I greatly enjoyed both your books, which have enormous energy and invite the reader to make your stories their own. And I find your idea of time spirals one of the most helpful images of human development that I am aware of. The tombs containing dead with alive intentions - there is a description of a tomb in Jersey, UK in a book by the magical writer Bob Stewart, where his description of the intention behind the tomb as communicated by the king within is the same, if expressed in a different terminology.
But most of all, I love your books because I dream. I am 60, and have been dreaming since childhood. Not usually lucidly, but the early dreams, the ones in my teens, so often involved journeys to other worlds. And now, I seem to feel a need to bring those dreams alive again, to turn the key so to speak.
And so, I wonder what I may find in the Cliffhouse.
With love,
Patrick
Hello Olga
What you wrote about realising that never again would you experience another micacle in this life. That hit me with force. I have been waiting for the same thing and had come to the same conclusion with much frustration and sadness, as though, somehow I had made a mistake or missed something vital.
I read your books the wrong way around, finding the Lucid dream one first then only finishing ‘entering the circle’ recently. Of course, it had to be that way because I needed to read your words that way around.
Just as in your experience on the Mountain and in the Cliffhouse, miracles do continue to happen if we allow them to and it seems to come down to exactly what you referred to in your first book - changing our inner reality, not just the outer manifestation.
Relinquishing the expectation and sitting back in completely open defeat somehow clears the way for the unexpected which, rationally, seems more likely (how can we experience an unexpected miracle if we think we know what to expect???)
Now I realise that the miracle truly starts within, with intention or by allowing oneself to expand beyond the borders of cultural and social limitations, I proved that to myself this weekend and so my next cycle of the spiral/labyrinth starts afresh.
As the Buddhists say - the beginners mind is the most precious jewel.
Thank you from the depths of my being for passing on your experiences and thoughts. They have had a profound impact.
By Jules on 07/06/2009Dear Olga,
thank you very much for the invitation to the Cliffhouse. While reading I really started to feel deeply touched.
It´s amazing but after reading your books I couldn´t stop thinking about them, you and your work and after a few disappointing tries to find some more informations (for example workshops planned in Germany) I found this site. I don´t know why but I have the strong need to stay in contact with your work. I visited this sites several times and wanted to write before but hesitated (maybe I am a little bit ashamed of writing in bad english...).
But, I did it know and I am very glad about it.
Thank you!
Love,
Bettina
Thx for giving me my own room. It’s a beautiful and very magical place.
This year I woke up (by the documentary “the horse boy") from a previous shaman life and you’re helping me to see and feeling things.
I just bought youre first book after reading the second. I think it’s gonna help me furter.
Thx again for sharing youre insides and I hope youre doing well.
By misja on 04/17/2010ooops insights, sorry 
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