You ask me how things were in Altai? Well, I can show you the pictures if you like. Look, this is me – I'm sitting in the airplane and strong currents of Kundalini-energy are blazing through my body. My airplane meal is getting cold, as I'm totally unable to eat. Moreover, I'm totally unable to do anything but surrender myself to the state of prayer. The state of prayer is honestly the only state in which these energies can be endured. The state of prayer was the only state in which the strong currents could do their healing work. Or maybe it is better to say that the state of prayer follows the undisturbed work of these strong cosmic energies like a blissful shadow. Anyway, there is no order of things during events like this, there is just existence and if you happened to die you wouldn't even notice.

In this picture you can see me when the storm's energy is becoming higher and higher. The vibrations are of such high frequency that they penetrate all matter without effort. This hard current flows like a thin metal wire from the center of the galaxy via the head all the way through the spine towards the earth's core. Look at my eyes; they are clear like the frosty sky of Altai. They see everything coming from miles.

This strong energy doesn't tolerate any weaknesses and makes them run away like hyenas on fire. They are running away with their tails between their legs leaving behind the hideous smell of rotten eggs. And when this energy marvels about the divine spark in a brother or sister, you can smell the most heavenly smells of unearthly flowers while existence rejoices on levels you didn't even know existed. This is my deepest understanding of my beloved teacher.

So you ask me how things were in Altai? Well I can tell you millions of magical stories full of wonders. I can talk for hours describing for you the vast beauty of Altai. I could tell you about the air of Altai being so packed with prana, it's almost too thick to breathe.

Really I could tell you all this, and maybe someday I will. But nothing I can tell you can change the fact that you should go there yourself, as fast as you can, by all means – because going to Altai, going to the teacher, means being reborn in the heart of God forever.

The great vastness of life after meeting the teacher is absolutely beyond all words. The thick walls that separate all actions and all events in past and future are falling away and all of life reveals itself every moment in her full, magnificent splendor. Life makes perfect sense. All of life is one big YES! You can hear it in the wind that caresses the delicate leaves of the trees: yessssssssss... yessssssss. You can hear it in the cheerful laughter of children playing in the streets: yesyesyessssyesyesyesssss... or in the soft words that lovers whisper to each other: yesyesyesss.

But when you come into the world of man, the big cities, you can feel this great constipation. The energy of the divine power wishes to flow and, with your hands full of gifts, you walk through the cities of man, but nobody is there to receive.

They don't believe in the fruits of wonder you are carrying. They don't expect them, but their souls are in great need of them. So now comes the great challenge – to create situations in which you can give these fruits of knowledge to man. You will have to seduce man to let him taste a bite of this divine glory. For this, you'll have to guide this energy into the right center. You will have to develop your qualities – making them flexible tools for the Divine Power that hovers above your head, eager to penetrate the earth.

When I was traveling back home from the Teacher I felt I was one with God and everything was possible. But as soon as my plane landed again I felt like a powerful engine that wanted to move a world of levers and wheels made out of cookie-dough. It was not possible to pass this power the way it was possible in Altai, making it flow and sing while it played you like a flute. Now I had to learn patience and control.

When I came home I saw my roommate. She was happy to see me and didn't see that I was carrying a nuclear bomb on my shoulders. She almost immediately started off with all kinds of small talk and chitchat. I wasn't able to react at all. The only thing to do was continue my work. So I turned around and fully experienced the pain of being unable to communicate. The tension mounted as she was trying to play some more games with me. Then came a big relaxation. The tension was broken and the smell of rotten eggs filled the room for a second. My roommate shrugged her shoulders and went away singing a happy tune.

I realized that it wasn't a good thing to give way to small talk. It is an important way in which people can lose their energy. During the next week, I avoided all contact with my roommate. I ignored her totally for her good and mine, I thought. It wasn't until problems with my house occurred that I realized that she was the reason that I was able to live here, and without my energy going to her, my house would soon be gone. How to find this balance? 

I thought, while a growing stress of losing my house came over me. "It would take a lot of illegal actions for me to save my house; do I want that? Yes, anything must be done for achieving my goal! But one thing might lead to another and in the end I might be doing so many things against the laws of society that I might go to jail; do I want that?" And suddenly it came to me with full force that I was all the people of the earth.

The Teacher had shown me that everywhere on earth, spirits of pure love are struggling to understand how to become happy and it is near to impossible. Sending your attention one way causes another structure to collapse. And so people spend their lives running neurotically from corner to corner, fixing things, only to drop everything when they die at the end of it all.

I understood fully that I was sharing this faith with all people and that it required a continuous effort to strive to balance. Existence was such a complex mix of all sorts of energies and a stiffness in expressing just one of these energies causes in time a major disharmony until the suffering pushes you back towards a solution.

But people are not experiencing this process consciously, and when a problem is gone, there is no trace of it left, and next time people fall into the same traps again. I've seen it a million times with myself.

Man just isn't capable to remember himself and the consequences of his actions. Man needs a shepherd, someone who knows the way and who they can ask him everything. Man doesn't know how to use his power to become happy, how to become free. He is trapped like a fly in a web walking in circles over and over again like an ant in a box, forgetting himself all the time. 

Now I fully realized that I was in need of a teacher to show me the way. Let's give all we are in the hands of God and carefully perceive how we can give more! What about my individuality? Yes I know you! You always pass by in situations like this and if I take you seriously, there we will go again down that crazy ride, a well-known chapter of doubt and insecurity – no thank you.

I don't know myself as well as my teacher does. The teacher is my higher Self I desperately need to be in the closest contact possible. Be concentrated and ask the right questions. 

Oh heavens! What a blessing is this life of mine! Gently growing under the wing of my love, my teacher. Please teacher, don't spare me in spite of my soul. Please teacher let thy will be solid as diamond. I know I'm crippled and years of conditioning have left their deep traces in me causing me to run when the going gets really tough. But I always come back to you. Lift me to the permanent stability of loving you.

I'm dead tired of my crazy leaps. Help me to form my question towards a deeper understanding of the present situation. Asking the right questions is like melting the borders that keep me from you, releasing a blissful current of divine nectar into the world of man.

This is truly a great time to live! People, look around you and bless every stupid part of your stupid lives. There is no meaning in any part of it, but as a whole it makes perfect sense. Let's strive to learn from those who know and receive this wide perspective while bathing in the vast and nourishing ocean of peace. 

Allow me to share my experience right now! I feel the big drive to communicate directly with you. I feel you are my lover. We are separated, but I feel you and I'm walking towards you with my eyes closed, bumping into the obstacles that lie between us. Like a windup toy mouse that bumps into a wall and keeps on rolling absolutely convinced that it will get through the wall at some time. It might take centuries, but who cares, if it feels so good! Heaven is made out of this stuff, no matter what your head is trying to tell you! Do you want the heavens or the endless separation of an outdated machine?

One beautiful teacher told me once the story of a great lover, the greatest lover that ever lived and naturally still lives, for how can a love like this die? 

This man saw the woman of his liking and loved her with the simplicity and tremendous beauty of innocence. And this caused him to move towards her always. His whole life became nothing more than a movement towards her. And every punch he received in his face from her was like a stone thrown in the vast ocean of his will; it only wrinkled his surface but underneath the surface, the striving continued, and as soon as the last wave died out the movement towards her became noticeable again.

The teacher compared it with a little kitty that is attracted to a bowl of milk. What happens? The kitty smells the milk, its senses determine the direction in which to move, and its body just brings him to the milk. He starts to drink and man comes between the kitty and the milk. The man says "Bad kitty!" and picks up the kitty and puts it down again several yards away from the milk. The kitty looks to the left and then looks to the right and then its senses determine the location of the milk once more and there it goes. This adorable fur-ball is moving with small but certain steps towards the milk. It attempts to drink and man comes between the two. He picks up the little kitty by the skin of his neck. Imagine the little kitty hanging there helpless before the ugly head of man being warned for the last time now: "Bad kitty!!! BAD KITTY!!!" Do you think he cares? Do you think he even hears? The kitty's heart is already one with the object of his desire.

Have you ever witnessed a cat picked up by the skin of its neck? It is absolutely out of this world; it is in a deep state of trance, like the world has paused and all it was doing earlier is just waiting for the release of the body to patiently continue its journey as a whole as soon as the circumstances allow it once again. 

Do you feel the great beauty in this innocence? Man can chase the kitty away a million times but still it keeps on moving towards the milk. You have to destroy the kitty to save the milk and still, if you feel carefully, it is still moving towards the milk on a different level of existence under different circumstances but what does it matter?

Matter takes care of itself. It is but the outer manifestation of an inner drive. Who cares about the specific forms? Man does – that is why man suffers – poor crippled man! But mankind has the teacher! The teacher is a very tough kitty and his bowl of milk is saving all of mankind, leaving none behind. So move towards the teacher! Make the teacher your bowl of milk! Make all things in life mere attributes to come closer to him. Study the steps that will lead you there, blend in with the people who carry more of his essence in them and one day very soon you will meet him and melt with him in everlasting ecstasy!

I had this dream; it was a special dream built from a special stuff. There are two ways of dying. One is going down – this is dying inside matter – this is dying into oblivion. The other way of dying is through matter. Feel the difference. This dying happens in full awareness and allows you to melt into the eternal dawn, the eternal sunlight.

When I had this dream I was at a very special power seminar in the mountains of Olympus in Greece, home of the ancient Gods. Every move during this seminar was carefully controlled by the loving will of our great teacher. The energy was building up – building up ever more, so much so that by the time I laid down my head and closed my eyes I felt myself as a balloon.

Imagine a balloon. See how the rubber sides of this balloon press together the air inside. Feel this balloon. Feel what it represents. I was this balloon and the pressure of the accumulated energy inside made me fully aware of my limits. I was able to feel and experience in one and the same indivisible moment the totality of my being. And this was not an unchangeable state, no! This was pressure transforming to bliss with every breath.

All of sudden the borders fell apart in pure and radiant energy and I melted with the room and everything in it. I melted with the mountains outside, with the whole country, with the whole planet. I became the vast ocean.

And it was there that I recognized for the first time in one of the waves my beloved teacher. Only my teacher was now Mr. Knetterman.

In Holland people say, "That man is knetter crazy!" It means, "That man is totally weird – nobody can predict his actions." It means, "That man doesn't walk the paths prepared for the masses." It means, "This man is a free spirit following only the currents of the ocean, breaking through all borders in his way. This man is knetter-crazy."

So there I was with Mr. Knetterman and we were sharing the same oceanic body. And we were experiencing all kinds of adventures that were happening between our waves. We witnessed the play of waves that weren't aware of their true nature. And their small views of their worlds caused tension and made them suffer.

On one occasion, Mr. Knetterman and I were sitting on a picnic bench enjoying the symphonies of heaven. A symphony that grows grander and grander with every tune. Try to imagine a symphony like that! Music that is building up to a climax that never comes but always grows nearer. Even grander than that, a symphony that is climaxing all the time, wow! Can you feel this? Well we certainly could, Mr. Knetterman and I.

And while we were sitting there on this bench, blissed out of our minds, we witnessed a couple sitting with us on this bench. This lady couldn't hear the symphony by the noise of her head and she was creating tensions disturbing the grandness of the symphony by the act of begging for attention of her lover. She played the role of a beggar and her boyfriend played the composite part. He was her savior. I could see how this girl was a hole in which life energy was leaking away to be lost forever, or so it seemed. I saw the death coming over the face of the boy. A rigid mask was freezing his ability to dance on the waves. And both persons were suffering in this mutual agreement of masochism.

In a fraction of a second I witnessed my fist in his face and saw that it was repeatedly beating the mask, giving it a thorough massage. The mask was transforming with every thrust of my mighty fist – a fist supported by the whole ocean. First it expressed amazement: Can that be done? Can someone punch me in the face like that? How must I react to this? I have no reference; nobody taught me! Then came horror; the mask felt its own death. Then came shame: What in God's name made me put on this mask in the first place? Then came grief; tears of regret were rolling from his eyes. Than came praying; please God forgive me. Then came forgiveness and deep understanding and the symphonies of heaven exploded in a splendor unknown to the heavens and reached the highest peaks in the history of existence.

All the while Mr. Knetterman was laughing his pants off. Holding his belly he rolled over the floor, kicking his feet in the air in pure ecstasy. The girl also couldn't stay the same; she was woken from a deep sleep.

The next time I saw Mr. Knetterman he was balancing on four long sticks in the space that is created where stairs are built. He was feeling the tension of the masses that were witnessing him and allowed the ocean to make him into a medicine. His movements were absolutely out of this world. They mocked all the accepted rules of the world and the witnesses of his performance were struck by horror. Their attention was glued to Mr. Knetterman and his crazy dance.

But not Mr. Knetterman, no not he! Mr. Knetterman was laughing so loudly, it made the building shake on its foundations. One by one the people fell on their knees in the state of prayer – the only state in which survival was possible – and when they got back on their feet, they were children, fully awake as if they were never asleep. Singing and dancing they continued their individual ways.

Eternities later, or perhaps just one second later – who can tell? – I stumbled once more upon Mr. Knetterman. He was laughing insanely while he was breaking into a house. He had a big crowbar with which he broke down the door. When it opened he didn't enter it like you might expect, but instead he made a giant leap towards the second floor and crashed through the window. I was there with him and saw that two dangerous-looking Doberman Pinchers were showing their sharp teeth to the laughing intruder.

People who had been gathered here for a party of some kind moved to the sides and were very insulted by this rough breaking and entering of this funny man. With their cocktails in their hands they were talking in a manner that was clearly rejecting this improper behavior. They felt strong with the two ferocious dogs supporting them. And triumphantly they were observing the intruder. "Try to get yourself out of this one Mr. Knetterman, without your clothes being torn off until you are butt naked."

Mr. Knetterman had stopped laughing, and the people went crazy. Great waves of energy from the ocean were filling them up. They were functioning as some kind of condensator, some kind of reservoir to contain vast amounts of energy. But what they couldn't see in their limited visions of reality was the true being of Mr. Knetterman. Mr. Knetterman was the room, he was the crowd, he was the two Doberman dogs, he was their dagger-like teeth. Mr. Knetterman was the ocean – he was the very symphony of life. And as normal people were able to flex their toes, Mr. Knetterman was able to flex your toes.

There he stood in the middle of the room. Try to see this image: one man surrounded by a maddening crowd, yelling for his guts to be spilled, two hideous dogs ready to tear him into little pieces. Mr. Knetterman grabbed the situation and crushed it like a piece of paper. With a simple act of will he broke all steady things and allowed the ocean to come in. 

The effect was smashing. In front of Mr. Knetterman there were standing two nicely cut pink poodles, barking friendly and wagging their funny trimmed tails. The crowd was gone. Some of them were dancing in the streets. Others had flown out of the window to celebrate their holiday on the sun – why not?

And Mr. Knetterman, where was he? Who can tell? Who cares? I don't.

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