- Joined
- Nov 21, 2019
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- 6,792
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- Age
- 55
- Location
- Орёл
- 💎VM
- 431,297.00
- New country
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- Enneatype
- 5 (?)
- Gender
- Male
- Ashram resident
- Yes
First of all, read why my diplomas are useful to you - HERE. My other diplomas are also available - HERE.
I also wrote about myself - HERE - on my website.
Author: Sergey Vasilyevich Veretennikov
Spiritual name: OM Shanti
Since childhood, I have been drawn to everything unknown. I could not understand why people ignored such a vast and unexplored world around them. After all, “this is the only thing we should be talking about”... But in the USSR, people talked about anything except this. There was absolutely nothing. Only a few scraps of information that occasionally appeared in late-night television programs or in rare articles about the culture of Native Americans or yogis. While still attending school in Oryol, I saw an article about tantrics in one of the magazines. I read it many times. It talked about chakras, siddhis (supernatural abilities), the power of breath, meditation, and so on. It also included a partial image of a small photograph of an ancient Sri Yantra. As a child, I took some paints and drew an enlarged version of it on a sheet of drawing paper so that I could begin meditating on it. That was how my first mystical experiences began.
After some time, I read an article about holotropic breathwork in another magazine. It only briefly explained that people simply breathed deeply and entered a trance, another state of consciousness, where they began to see, hear, and feel things... It also included photographs of what people had drawn after the session. These were often drawings of intrauterine development and... what amazed me most—drawings of life before this life! Not only drawings of past lives, but of existence outside the body, before birth (between lives). I immediately went, lay down on the bed, and began breathing quickly and deeply... That was my second mystical experience.
Let me repeat: all of this happened during my school years. This was sometime in the 1980s (around 1985). I tried to tune in to various broadcasts on shortwave radio. And, of course, what could I pick up there besides Christian programs? I was especially struck by the parables of Christ. Their incredible depth and simplicity. And it was wonderful to know that someone else also believed in God, just as I did. That I was not alone. Those radio broadcasts testified to this. Somewhere, there were people who knew more than I did. During these broadcasts, they constantly gave an address to which one could write to receive a Bible. These were unusual addresses—not like those in the USSR. Besides, listening to shortwave broadcasts meant hearing them through terrible interference, static, and clicking noises. It was difficult to be sure that I had heard the address correctly. But I wrote anyway. I did not believe for a moment that I had written it correctly. A schoolboy sending a letter abroad, to another country, to an incomprehensible address... I did not even believe myself that anything would come of it. After a month, I had already forgotten about it. After six months, even more so. But precisely then, I received a notice that a PACKAGE had arrived for me. For me? From where? From another country? Who was I, and who there knew about me?.. The woman at the post office looked strangely at me—a teenager who had “apparently received something from abroad by mistake”—and handed me the package. I did not pay a single kopeck. The Bible was of the highest quality. I still have it.
In yet another magazine, I read an article about a Russian psychic who could see with his eyes closed, read information with his palms, and so on. In the article, he explained how he would recommend that others absorb cosmic energy. You simply had to sit down, turn your palms upward, relax, and, while inhaling, imagine cosmic energy flowing through your palms into your body; while exhaling, imagine it spreading through every cell... Can you imagine what I started doing immediately after reading that article?
Of course, I began practicing and getting results right away.
There were also a number of programs on Soviet television. Most notably, I “caught” a program about Devaraha Baba (I wrote about it - here). I also caught several programs featuring Indra Devi. Morning programs featuring yogis and demonstrations of asanas and pranayamas began to appear.
The first thing I was “drawn into” was Kundalini Yoga. I was already studying at an institute, where I enrolled immediately after school (this was around 1988). I practiced Kundalini Yoga for about a year, until it suddenly disappeared because the woman who led the classes stopped teaching them. But nothing was ending for me. Everything was only beginning. Like a snowball, I kept accumulating more and more experience. I went through numerous systems of development, practices, and initiations from all kinds of Teachers. These included shamanic initiations from a healer from Peru—though it is not quite correct to call him a shaman, as they call themselves healers, curanderos—Guillermo Arivallo (yes, the very one shown in the film Blueberry), as well as from many different Gurus, Lamas, and Teachers. And my path has, of course, involved a great deal of practice. I did not study anything through articles or books. I simply entered one system, teaching, or even religion after another and studied everything through my own experience. I know none of this from books—I have BEEN THERE; I went through all of it myself, from the inside. I am “one of their own” anywhere: among Hare Krishnas, Buddhists, Christians (of various denominations), and all kinds of sects and teachings. I have been through a great deal, including working with Plants of Power. I even passed through, in the astral realm, the tunnel seen during near-death experiences, and was THERE—in the presence of Loving Light and Beings of Light. All of this is my experience, and it warms me.
One group of people knows me as a spiritual and mystical public figure who has devoted his life to creating a wide variety of self-development tools for people.
Another group knows me as a popular Oryol writer and poet.
My poems are known among the people. Schoolchildren read them (for example - HERE) and they are available in central libraries (for example - HERE). Songs have been written and performed using my poems - HERE; I collected many of these songs from across the internet, and naturally, many others have simply not been found. The songs are performed at public events, festivals, and so on. I have received a great many reviews of my poems from all over the world.
As I told you above, after school I graduated from an institute. I studied full-time for five years. I do not want to judge modern education, but in the past education was more... responsible, I suppose. Requirements were stricter, so to speak. Of course, everything could be bought and sold, but nevertheless, those who wanted to study could receive a very good education. And I greatly value the Soviet education I received.
And, of course, although I later immersed myself in education of a different kind—such as shamanism, Vedism, Shaivism, Christianity, mysticism, esotericism, extrasensory perception, and so on—I continued studying at institutions of higher education because, already having a university degree, I understood that my level needed to be raised in the same place: higher-education institutions. Various clubs and classes for people with secondary education do not offer the highest level one can attain. Therefore, I continued my studies at universities, where I trained as a psychologist (in various fields, such as transpersonal psychology, family psychology, and so on), an Ayurveda specialist, a physiologist, and so forth.
Since childhood, I had also been drawn to healing. My father’s brother (who had two higher degrees in ecology) gave our family a guide to medicinal plants of the USSR. I still do not know why he gave it to us—perhaps he did not need it, or perhaps he genuinely parted with it from the heart... And imagine this: as a schoolboy, I read this reference book, which was probably half a meter by forty centimeters. It was enormous, with black-and-white pictures of plants and descriptions of their medicinal properties. And what do you think? That very summer, I was already walking around the Oryol region collecting St. John’s wort, plantain, chamomile, yarrow... I made teas. Where did this come from? No one taught me. My peers played football in the courtyard, so where did I get this strange desire to pick up this several-kilogram reference book on plants, read it, and then do what I had only heard about in passing somewhere? I had already studied herbs by then. On my own.
I have always achieved what I set out to do. At about five or six years old, I asked my father to teach me how to play chess. I got angry with myself, became upset, whined, and could not do anything. I was furious that I kept losing to my father... But I learned to play quickly. By the second grade, I was already beating older students, who were furious that some little kid had defeated them. I have always loved chess. An amazing game.
And that is how it has always been. Around the third grade, I decided on my own to learn how to draw well. No one forced me, taught me, or served as an example. I simply took a pencil and a sheet of paper and began trying to copy the hare and wolf on the rug in our apartment. NOTHING WORKED. I was angry with myself. Another tantrum. I broke the pencil. I tore up my notebook, turning over one sheet after another, saying each time, “This time I will definitely draw this wolf and hare exactly as they look on the rug.” But every time it came out crooked. Through my persistence, I broke through some kind of barrier within myself. And suddenly, I began drawing well. A couple of years later, in the fifth grade, I drew my homework—a painting in oils. The art teacher was shocked. The assignment had required something much smaller; she had not asked for anything like that at all. She gave me the highest grade, with a plus.
I did not understand poetry at all. At school, I thought, “What kind of idiots are these poets? Why couldn’t they simply write in prose? Why write so strangely?..”
Why did I decide to write poetry? I do not know. I simply sat down and decided to learn how to write it. NOTHING worked for me. No one taught me. My family consisted of ordinary working people. I did not move in intellectual circles. Something inside me told me, “Come on, go and do it!” And I went and did it. I wrote nonsense for a year. I would quit, thinking, “To hell with it, enough, I definitely will not succeed at this.” But never more than a week would pass before I returned and continued writing poetry. I would quit again with the same thought that it was over forever. And again, less than a week would pass before I returned.
What came of it in the end? You already know. I am the author of several books. Songs are sung by ordinary people using my poems.
This stubbornness of mine has worked throughout my life. I achieved everything precisely through it. I did not know how to write music; as a child, I could not even dance—everyone shouted, “You are not keeping the rhythm!” I did not even understand what I was supposed to do or how to move correctly at a disco. I simply did something that all my peers did, pretending to dance. Apparently, there was also some “mysterious” rhythm involved
And so I taught myself to write music. Many people like it.
I taught myself everything. I got tired while running? I began training. Could do only a few pull-ups? I went and started training. I have been friends with physical exercise since childhood. Judo and sambo as a child, then karate, the gym, and a whole arsenal of sports equipment at home later on. I know the human body very well from this perspective.
And despite the fact that my first higher education was in mechanical engineering, it greatly helps me view the workings of our bodies in a special way. I see the world differently thanks to this alone—not to mention my other education and experience.
I also wrote about myself - HERE - on my website.
Author: Sergey Vasilyevich Veretennikov
Spiritual name: OM Shanti
Since childhood, I have been drawn to everything unknown. I could not understand why people ignored such a vast and unexplored world around them. After all, “this is the only thing we should be talking about”... But in the USSR, people talked about anything except this. There was absolutely nothing. Only a few scraps of information that occasionally appeared in late-night television programs or in rare articles about the culture of Native Americans or yogis. While still attending school in Oryol, I saw an article about tantrics in one of the magazines. I read it many times. It talked about chakras, siddhis (supernatural abilities), the power of breath, meditation, and so on. It also included a partial image of a small photograph of an ancient Sri Yantra. As a child, I took some paints and drew an enlarged version of it on a sheet of drawing paper so that I could begin meditating on it. That was how my first mystical experiences began.
After some time, I read an article about holotropic breathwork in another magazine. It only briefly explained that people simply breathed deeply and entered a trance, another state of consciousness, where they began to see, hear, and feel things... It also included photographs of what people had drawn after the session. These were often drawings of intrauterine development and... what amazed me most—drawings of life before this life! Not only drawings of past lives, but of existence outside the body, before birth (between lives). I immediately went, lay down on the bed, and began breathing quickly and deeply... That was my second mystical experience.
Let me repeat: all of this happened during my school years. This was sometime in the 1980s (around 1985). I tried to tune in to various broadcasts on shortwave radio. And, of course, what could I pick up there besides Christian programs? I was especially struck by the parables of Christ. Their incredible depth and simplicity. And it was wonderful to know that someone else also believed in God, just as I did. That I was not alone. Those radio broadcasts testified to this. Somewhere, there were people who knew more than I did. During these broadcasts, they constantly gave an address to which one could write to receive a Bible. These were unusual addresses—not like those in the USSR. Besides, listening to shortwave broadcasts meant hearing them through terrible interference, static, and clicking noises. It was difficult to be sure that I had heard the address correctly. But I wrote anyway. I did not believe for a moment that I had written it correctly. A schoolboy sending a letter abroad, to another country, to an incomprehensible address... I did not even believe myself that anything would come of it. After a month, I had already forgotten about it. After six months, even more so. But precisely then, I received a notice that a PACKAGE had arrived for me. For me? From where? From another country? Who was I, and who there knew about me?.. The woman at the post office looked strangely at me—a teenager who had “apparently received something from abroad by mistake”—and handed me the package. I did not pay a single kopeck. The Bible was of the highest quality. I still have it.
In yet another magazine, I read an article about a Russian psychic who could see with his eyes closed, read information with his palms, and so on. In the article, he explained how he would recommend that others absorb cosmic energy. You simply had to sit down, turn your palms upward, relax, and, while inhaling, imagine cosmic energy flowing through your palms into your body; while exhaling, imagine it spreading through every cell... Can you imagine what I started doing immediately after reading that article?
Of course, I began practicing and getting results right away.
The first thing I was “drawn into” was Kundalini Yoga. I was already studying at an institute, where I enrolled immediately after school (this was around 1988). I practiced Kundalini Yoga for about a year, until it suddenly disappeared because the woman who led the classes stopped teaching them. But nothing was ending for me. Everything was only beginning. Like a snowball, I kept accumulating more and more experience. I went through numerous systems of development, practices, and initiations from all kinds of Teachers. These included shamanic initiations from a healer from Peru—though it is not quite correct to call him a shaman, as they call themselves healers, curanderos—Guillermo Arivallo (yes, the very one shown in the film Blueberry), as well as from many different Gurus, Lamas, and Teachers. And my path has, of course, involved a great deal of practice. I did not study anything through articles or books. I simply entered one system, teaching, or even religion after another and studied everything through my own experience. I know none of this from books—I have BEEN THERE; I went through all of it myself, from the inside. I am “one of their own” anywhere: among Hare Krishnas, Buddhists, Christians (of various denominations), and all kinds of sects and teachings. I have been through a great deal, including working with Plants of Power. I even passed through, in the astral realm, the tunnel seen during near-death experiences, and was THERE—in the presence of Loving Light and Beings of Light. All of this is my experience, and it warms me.
One group of people knows me as a spiritual and mystical public figure who has devoted his life to creating a wide variety of self-development tools for people.
Another group knows me as a popular Oryol writer and poet.
My poems are known among the people. Schoolchildren read them (for example - HERE) and they are available in central libraries (for example - HERE). Songs have been written and performed using my poems - HERE; I collected many of these songs from across the internet, and naturally, many others have simply not been found. The songs are performed at public events, festivals, and so on. I have received a great many reviews of my poems from all over the world.
As I told you above, after school I graduated from an institute. I studied full-time for five years. I do not want to judge modern education, but in the past education was more... responsible, I suppose. Requirements were stricter, so to speak. Of course, everything could be bought and sold, but nevertheless, those who wanted to study could receive a very good education. And I greatly value the Soviet education I received.
And, of course, although I later immersed myself in education of a different kind—such as shamanism, Vedism, Shaivism, Christianity, mysticism, esotericism, extrasensory perception, and so on—I continued studying at institutions of higher education because, already having a university degree, I understood that my level needed to be raised in the same place: higher-education institutions. Various clubs and classes for people with secondary education do not offer the highest level one can attain. Therefore, I continued my studies at universities, where I trained as a psychologist (in various fields, such as transpersonal psychology, family psychology, and so on), an Ayurveda specialist, a physiologist, and so forth.
Since childhood, I had also been drawn to healing. My father’s brother (who had two higher degrees in ecology) gave our family a guide to medicinal plants of the USSR. I still do not know why he gave it to us—perhaps he did not need it, or perhaps he genuinely parted with it from the heart... And imagine this: as a schoolboy, I read this reference book, which was probably half a meter by forty centimeters. It was enormous, with black-and-white pictures of plants and descriptions of their medicinal properties. And what do you think? That very summer, I was already walking around the Oryol region collecting St. John’s wort, plantain, chamomile, yarrow... I made teas. Where did this come from? No one taught me. My peers played football in the courtyard, so where did I get this strange desire to pick up this several-kilogram reference book on plants, read it, and then do what I had only heard about in passing somewhere? I had already studied herbs by then. On my own.
I have always achieved what I set out to do. At about five or six years old, I asked my father to teach me how to play chess. I got angry with myself, became upset, whined, and could not do anything. I was furious that I kept losing to my father... But I learned to play quickly. By the second grade, I was already beating older students, who were furious that some little kid had defeated them. I have always loved chess. An amazing game.
And that is how it has always been. Around the third grade, I decided on my own to learn how to draw well. No one forced me, taught me, or served as an example. I simply took a pencil and a sheet of paper and began trying to copy the hare and wolf on the rug in our apartment. NOTHING WORKED. I was angry with myself. Another tantrum. I broke the pencil. I tore up my notebook, turning over one sheet after another, saying each time, “This time I will definitely draw this wolf and hare exactly as they look on the rug.” But every time it came out crooked. Through my persistence, I broke through some kind of barrier within myself. And suddenly, I began drawing well. A couple of years later, in the fifth grade, I drew my homework—a painting in oils. The art teacher was shocked. The assignment had required something much smaller; she had not asked for anything like that at all. She gave me the highest grade, with a plus.
I did not understand poetry at all. At school, I thought, “What kind of idiots are these poets? Why couldn’t they simply write in prose? Why write so strangely?..”
Why did I decide to write poetry? I do not know. I simply sat down and decided to learn how to write it. NOTHING worked for me. No one taught me. My family consisted of ordinary working people. I did not move in intellectual circles. Something inside me told me, “Come on, go and do it!” And I went and did it. I wrote nonsense for a year. I would quit, thinking, “To hell with it, enough, I definitely will not succeed at this.” But never more than a week would pass before I returned and continued writing poetry. I would quit again with the same thought that it was over forever. And again, less than a week would pass before I returned.
What came of it in the end? You already know. I am the author of several books. Songs are sung by ordinary people using my poems.
This stubbornness of mine has worked throughout my life. I achieved everything precisely through it. I did not know how to write music; as a child, I could not even dance—everyone shouted, “You are not keeping the rhythm!” I did not even understand what I was supposed to do or how to move correctly at a disco. I simply did something that all my peers did, pretending to dance. Apparently, there was also some “mysterious” rhythm involved
And so I taught myself to write music. Many people like it.
I taught myself everything. I got tired while running? I began training. Could do only a few pull-ups? I went and started training. I have been friends with physical exercise since childhood. Judo and sambo as a child, then karate, the gym, and a whole arsenal of sports equipment at home later on. I know the human body very well from this perspective.
And despite the fact that my first higher education was in mechanical engineering, it greatly helps me view the workings of our bodies in a special way. I see the world differently thanks to this alone—not to mention my other education and experience.
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In this article, you will learn interesting facts about the author of the Your Yoga website, Sergey Vasilyevich Veretennikov
Activities
What can be noticed from this photo (from the perspective of physiognomy):
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