Alexander Litvin “I will not be higher than God. Read the book Higher than God I will not (Litvin Alexander) Higher than God I will not read online in full

The bus arrived. We got into it and drove to the city center. There was a bus station right next to the central market, or simply a bazaar. There were many platforms, the buses were crowded, they arrived and departed strictly on schedule. In this third route bus, so crowded with people, we arrived at our platform. We stood in the center of the salon, I held my mother’s hand - I remember that for sure: they didn’t hold me, but I held it. Mom started to go to the front door, but I grabbed Mom, pressed my feet on the floor, covered with black corrugated rubber, and pulled Mom back with all my might. She looked at me in bewilderment, realized that I was not going to give in, shrugged her shoulders, and followed me.

At the very moment when we were leaving the back door of the bus, a truck crashed into the front door at great speed. I was small and didn’t see him flying behind the adults’ backs. Something blue flashed above the crowd. The simultaneous scream of many people and... deathly silence. One of the men standing on the platform ran up to the Emka cab, opened the door - and a completely drunk driver fell out. He was not unconscious - he was simply insane. “Mom, is he crazy?!” Is this what crazy people look like?!”

Something blue that flashed above the crowd turned out to be a little girl wrapped in a blue diaper. Her dad was leaving the front door of the bus and, finding himself directly in front of the speeding car, managed to save his child by throwing him into the crowd. He was also lucky, he survived, only he suffered a broken hip and ribs. I know this man, he lives not far from my parents.

Already as an adult, I tried to analyze what exactly I felt when I hit the floor of the bus. I have never been capricious, I always obeyed my elders, I did not throw tantrums, but here something unusual happened to me - I became the boss. More important than mom! And he was able to drag her in the right direction. I don’t remember my feelings now - the disaster supplanted everything, becoming dominant, but I remember well that the decision was made spontaneously and instantly.

My earliest memories are from 1963, when I was three years old. I remember very well the day when my mother bought a Zarya washing machine. It was the first word I read in my life, and I remember it. Mom brought the car on a cart. The cart was a real one, wooden. The coachman or cab driver, I don’t know what to call this man of unknown age in a canvas raincoat, helped my mother unload the car and bring it into the house. I don’t know why, but I decided that his name was Kuzma. And so it turned out - his name was Kuzma, and he was very surprised how I knew him. And I just said that, without thinking at all why. Now I understand: this name suited him!

I remember my mother's face. In those days, a washing machine was the epitome of real little happiness, and I was also in this happy cloud. That's probably why I remembered it. So my first memory is connected with happiness! And even if it is caused by the fact that mom bought a washing machine, it doesn’t really matter! Happinnes exists! Happiness is here and now!

Why is a shoe called a boot? I asked myself this question when I was 5 years old. Why exactly this way and not otherwise? The adults couldn't answer me. A common children's question. Why this or that object is given one or another name is clear, but why this particular combination of sounds - I was very curious! In essence, I began to understand the world with such questions.

My childhood was not very eventful. According to my parents, I didn't bother them much, and my grandfather was sometimes amazed that I grew up without causing problems.

– Do you ever hold this child in your arms? – he asked my mom and dad.

- No, we don’t take it. He doesn't cry or beg. He minds his own business.

I really minded my own business and was never bored. I didn't like attracting the attention of adults. I loved listening. I listened to everything people said. He understood some things, didn’t understand others, but somehow guessed the meaning. I rarely asked questions. There was no one to ask them. Then I knew less than now, but I had one knowledge from birth and forever: no one will answer my most important questions. But still I tried to find answers.

Title: I will not be higher than God

About the book “I will not be higher than God” Alexander Litvin

Alexander Litvin is one of the most powerful and popular esotericists of our time, the winner of the sixth season of the “Battle of Psychics”, the creator of the Happy Life calendar. Litvin, due to associations and stereotypes, does not really like being called a psychic. Rather, he positions himself as a “probability analyst.”

Having put an end to the “Battle of Psychics” project, Litvin continued his great work of helping people. He wrote a book with the loud title “I will not be higher than God.”

This is a frank and kind book. It’s all about life and a person who thinks deeply and seeks answers to eternal questions: who am I? Why am I here? Where did I come from? What is my purpose? How can I help people become better?

A large part of the book is devoted to the author’s story about his childhood, and about life in general. How as a boy he went to the sea, swam, traveled, how he loved flowers and listened to the radio. The book he wrote incredibly helped Litvin understand how the process of formation and development of his abilities took place. And now the book helps the reader develop his intuitive and extrasensory abilities, shows all possible paths, methods of action and motivation for aspiration.

The author does not describe banal exercises for developing abilities, he describes his life. All the obstacles he had to go through, the sorrows of defeats and the joys of victories. After all, every time they could break, but instead, on the contrary, they strengthened their character more and more.

Litvin worked globally and constantly on himself, got to know himself and the world around him, and was able to skillfully use the chances given to him. In his book, using his own examples, the author will guide the reader on his path and help him become better, thereby fulfilling his purpose.

“I will not be higher than God” will benefit absolutely any reader. And for those who are keenly interested in the biography of the author and want to know what path Litvin took to develop his intuitive abilities. And to those who, alas, lost their other half. The author shares the story of love and death of his beloved wife Natalia. And for those who have an interest in identifying and interpreting signs of fate.

But the book will be most useful for that category of readers who are studying the nature of their intuition and how to use it. This book is simply a treasure trove of useful information, examples from the author’s life and descriptions of effective methods for achieving your goals.

On our website about books, you can download the site for free without registration or read online the book “I will not be higher than God” by Alexander Litvin in epub, fb2, txt, rtf, pdf formats for iPad, iPhone, Android and Kindle. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and real pleasure from reading. You can buy the full version from our partner. Also, here you will find the latest news from the literary world, learn the biography of your favorite authors. For beginning writers, there is a separate section with useful tips and tricks, interesting articles, thanks to which you yourself can try your hand at literary crafts.

Quotes from the book “I will not be higher than God” by Alexander Litvin

First I read in the Bible: God is love. And only then did I understand these words and their meaning: God hears us. He hears because he loves. But for me to hear God, the same attunement is needed. He must be loved - and I will receive answers to my questions and advice that will allow me to avoid mistakes.

Lightning struck a pole. The pillar stood on the border of the plots, it was part of the fence, it grew out of the fence, and lightning struck it not for the first time. It even somehow caught fire, and the pole was changed. Now he has become a target again.
– I wonder why lightning always strikes in one place?
“I don’t know,” said the grandmother, “probably there is something in the earth that attracts.” But it’s better not to remove him, he beats him and let him beat himself. Sometimes it's even useful.
– What is useful? To whom? Vegetable garden? Earth? A pillar?
- No, it’s useful for us people. Especially if someone has back pain. Just as the lightning flashes, wait for the thunder, and while it thunders, somersault.
- So what, does it help?
- Yes, it helps. It helps me, and it helps everyone.
- Strange, why?
– I don’t know, someone told me this when I was a child.
I listened to my grandmother and remembered. I didn’t ask about the mechanisms - you don’t know, well, okay, I’ll try to figure it out myself.

No, it was not for nothing that I threw this bucket into the mouth of the storm. Sometimes you need to give nature something small so that it doesn’t take more. I knew that for sure! This understanding came instantly. When I looked around, I already knew that something needed to be done, but then everything happened automatically.

Versatility is important not only in work. The ability to break a pattern of behavior is a very important thing in terms of safety.
I usually follow the same route. I'm used to it, I know where to slow down, where to speed up, I drive almost by heart. But at some point I suddenly feel some kind of anxiety, something is bothering me, something is going wrong, and what is not clear. My intuition doesn’t give me the full package of information – I just don’t like the current moment. In this case, I decide to change my route or do something along the route that I have never done. I can stop and buy a newspaper that I’ve never bought, I can call a person I haven’t called in a hundred years - in a word, I can do anything that doesn’t fit into my regular ritual. For what? In order not to get to the very peak of accumulated errors.

Alexander Litvin

I will not be higher than God

DO NOT TAKE THIS BOOK SERIOUSLY, THINK IT IS FICTION, THEN IT WILL BE EASIER FOR YOU TO BELIEVE

Dedicated to my first wife Natalya

The verbal designation “Alexander Litvin”, “Alexander Litvin’s Laboratory”, “Happy Life Calendar from Alexander Litvin” are registered trademarks. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the copyright holders.

© Litvin A.

© AST Publishing House LLC

2008 Autumn

We are making plans. Plans make us.

In an instant, my life and the lives of my children changed. It will never be the same again. Never. Terrible word. Everything was planned out. Not point by point, but overall the program was clear. So what now?! It was hard for me. The former customs chief offered to return to work. But I refused. Now I definitely need to be close to my sons. But you can't stay here. We must return to Moscow. Now it's clear. We sat silently in the kitchen and drank tea. “Well, what are we going to do?” – I looked at my sons. “What can you do, dad, we have to go.”

I don't know how to work now. How to show what I can do. I feel a lot of things, but now I'm just cut off. And do I know how to do anything at all? I didn’t feel death... Or didn’t I want to admit it to myself? Will I be able to pull myself together and produce the result? It's good to work when everything is good. At that moment it seemed to me that there was nothing positive in my life and there never would be. Natalya's departure ruined everything. I remembered our life day after day. The memory became sharper and gave out one or another picture from the past, our joys and sorrows, and it was unbearable. In any case, we must act. My guys are still very young, and they should know and see how to behave. All my relatives gathered. Everyone was in a depressed mood. The sharp turn of my life could not but affect the life of my family. Everyone was waiting for change. I said that we were flying to Moscow. I never told anyone about my real goal. A secret is a secret.

We returned to the capital. Even though my youngest son had a place in a university dormitory, I did not let him go there. For now, we'll all be together, and then we'll see. It will be easier for the three of us, but there, in the hostel, with unfamiliar people, he will be left alone with grief. Yes, and I will be calmer when he is in front of my eyes. New city, new people. We began to live in a new way, and I completely forgot that I was 48 years old. There is a lot of work ahead. You just need to get together and do as much as possible.

Marina called late at night. Her voice was not as cheerful as always. She was extremely polite and laconic: “Test tomorrow.” At the appointed time I arrived at the appointed place. Usually noisy project participants and crew members behaved quietly. A girl named Olga, some kind of chief administrator, approached me. She spoke words of condolences, she was worried. She didn't seem to have that experience. And it’s good that it wasn’t. But I had it, and it made me feel bad. She said something else, I nodded at her, and I myself thought about this experience. Well, why do I need him? Such a cruel test, why do my children need it? I know that everything in the world is arranged fairly, it’s just that this justice sometimes does not fit into the time frame of one person’s life. But then these were thoughts, just thoughts with which I tried to somehow collect myself. Olga asked if I was ready to work. I did not know. My readiness will be determined there, at the test.

Trial. After Natalya left, this word, so often used in the project, no longer seemed so serious to me. The test is when your children suffer from the fact that they have lost their mother, and you cannot replace her for them. And here is work. My job is what I have to do. There are more than enough incentives. The title of the project contains the word “battle”. For me she will be the most real. I will beat my doubts, I will persuade him, I will send spies and scouts to him, but I will break him. I promised.

I am five years old. My mother and I are standing at a bus stop on Lenin Street. Across the road is a huge temple. St. Michael's Cathedral. He's absolutely amazing, he's incredibly beautiful and he's very sad. “Mom, why is there a cross at the top, is that an antenna?” Mom smiled: “Maybe an antenna...”

I stood and looked at this temple, and its height made me dizzy. It was a very interesting feeling, and I tried to remember it. Much later I began to do this consciously: remember your emotions and periodically recall them, but for now I just stood and absorbed this new sensation for me.

The bus arrived. We got into it and drove to the city center. There was a bus station right next to the central market, or simply a bazaar. There were many platforms, the buses were crowded, they arrived and departed strictly on schedule. In this third route bus, so crowded with people, we arrived at our platform. We stood in the center of the salon, I held my mother’s hand - I remember that for sure: they didn’t hold me, but I held it. Mom started to go to the front door, but I grabbed Mom, pressed my feet on the floor, covered with black corrugated rubber, and pulled Mom back with all my might. She looked at me in bewilderment, realized that I was not going to give in, shrugged her shoulders, and followed me.

At the very moment when we were leaving the back door of the bus, a truck crashed into the front door at great speed. I was small and didn’t see him flying behind the adults’ backs. Something blue flashed above the crowd. The simultaneous scream of many people and... deathly silence. One of the men standing on the platform ran up to the Emka cab, opened the door - and a completely drunk driver fell out. He was not unconscious - he was simply insane. “Mom, is he crazy?!” Is this what crazy people look like?!”

Something blue that flashed above the crowd turned out to be a little girl wrapped in a blue diaper. Her dad was leaving the front door of the bus and, finding himself directly in front of the speeding car, managed to save his child by throwing him into the crowd. He was also lucky, he survived, only he suffered a broken hip and ribs. I know this man, he lives not far from my parents.

Already as an adult, I tried to analyze what exactly I felt when I hit the floor of the bus. I have never been capricious, I always obeyed my elders, I did not throw tantrums, but here something unusual happened to me - I became the boss. More important than mom! And he was able to drag her in the right direction. I don’t remember my feelings now - the disaster supplanted everything, becoming dominant, but I remember well that the decision was made spontaneously and instantly.

My earliest memories are from 1963, when I was three years old. I remember very well the day when my mother bought a Zarya washing machine. It was the first word I read in my life, and I remember it. Mom brought the car on a cart. The cart was a real one, wooden. The coachman or cab driver, I don’t know what to call this man of unknown age in a canvas raincoat, helped my mother unload the car and bring it into the house. I don’t know why, but I decided that his name was Kuzma. And so it turned out - his name was Kuzma, and he was very surprised how I knew him. And I just said that, without thinking at all why. Now I understand: this name suited him!

I remember my mother's face. In those days, a washing machine was the epitome of real little happiness, and I was also in this happy cloud. That's probably why I remembered it. So my first memory is connected with happiness! And even if it is caused by the fact that mom bought a washing machine, it doesn’t really matter! Happinnes exists! Happiness is here and now!

Why is a shoe called a boot? I asked myself this question when I was 5 years old. Why exactly this way and not otherwise? The adults couldn't answer me. A common children's question. Why this or that object is given one or another name is clear, but why this particular combination of sounds - I was very curious! In essence, I began to understand the world with such questions.

My childhood was not very eventful. According to my parents, I didn't bother them much, and my grandfather was sometimes amazed that I grew up without causing problems.

– Do you ever hold this child in your arms? – he asked my mom and dad.

- No, we don’t take it. He doesn't cry or beg. He minds his own business.

I really minded my own business and was never bored. I didn't like attracting the attention of adults. I loved listening. I listened to everything people said. He understood some things, didn’t understand others, but somehow guessed the meaning. I rarely asked questions. There was no one to ask them. Then I knew less than now, but I had one knowledge from birth and forever: no one will answer my most important questions. But still I tried to find answers.

Year of book publication: 2015

Litvin’s book “I will not be higher than God” was first published in 2015 and is the author’s first work. The work is rather autobiographical in nature and tells how the writer discovered his psychic abilities. Alexander Litvin’s work “I will not be higher than God” will be of interest to those who engage in self-analysis and want to learn to see the signs that fate regularly presents.

The plot of the book “I will not be higher than God”

In the book “I Will Not Be Higher than God,” we can read about the author’s development as a practicing psychic. From the very beginning of his work, Litvin describes his childhood in detail. He emphasizes that all the development that we receive in childhood occurs not thanks to, but rather in spite of the existing system (kindergarten, school, etc.). The psychic is convinced that the most important role for a person’s harmonious development is his family. It was from her that the author drew the wisdom that helped him avoid many mistakes in childhood.

The book “I Will Not Be Higher than God” talks about how important it is to learn to remember your emotions and, if necessary, reproduce them in your head. This helps to see the logic of the events that are happening at the moment - after all, every current situation is in one way or another connected with our past decisions. Surprisingly accurately, the author recalls seemingly insignificant details of his childhood - traveling with his mother on the bus or buying a washing machine.

The author claims that any other psychic, and Litvinov himself, is no higher than God. Everything in life happens according to a certain logic, and our task is to learn to listen to our inner voice, which is what he says. This will help you see the entire chain of events. The writer talks about the bright events that happened throughout his life (for example, a meeting with a polar wolf). Having built a logical chain, he tells how he managed to interpret such a situation, seeing in it a sign from above. This example and several other events described prove that intuition is one of the most necessary feelings of a person, listening to which is vital.

In Alexander Litvin’s work “Not Higher than God” we can read not about magic and extrasensory perception in its traditional sense. The author emphasizes that each event is preceded by some sign. Unfortunately, people often do not notice such clues of fate and act thoughtlessly. In the book you will not find practical guidance on how to develop your intuition. Litvin simply talks about his experiences so that readers can learn from his mistakes.

At the end of the work, Litvin presents his “Happy Life Calendar”, which is designed for three months. It contains structured information regarding each individual day. Using such a calendar, you can plan important meetings, purchases or trips.

The author himself recommends not to perceive this work as the ultimate truth. At the beginning of the book, he writes that the reader should treat everything presented as science fiction. Then it will be much easier to understand and most importantly accept all the information. Despite the fact that many people do not believe in the existence of psychics, Alexander’s work has become quite popular among readers. The text is written in easy language with a touch of humor, which allows you to immerse yourself in the writer’s story as much as possible.

The book “I will not be higher than God” on the Top books website

So many people wanted to download Alexander Litvin’s book “I Will Not Be Higher Than God” that this ensured her a high position among. And given the consistently high interest in the work of the psychic Litvin, it will be presented more than once on the pages of our website.

Current page: 1 (book has 17 pages total) [available reading passage: 10 pages]

Alexander Litvin
I will not be higher than God

DO NOT TAKE THIS BOOK SERIOUSLY, THINK IT IS FICTION, THEN IT WILL BE EASIER FOR YOU TO BELIEVE

Dedicated to my first wife Natalya

The verbal designation “Alexander Litvin”, “Alexander Litvin’s Laboratory”, “Happy Life Calendar from Alexander Litvin” are registered trademarks. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the copyright holders.

© Litvin A.

© AST Publishing House LLC

2008 Autumn

We are making plans. Plans make us.

In an instant, my life and the lives of my children changed. It will never be the same again. Never. Terrible word. Everything was planned out. Not point by point, but overall the program was clear. So what now?! It was hard for me. The former customs chief offered to return to work. But I refused. Now I definitely need to be close to my sons. But you can't stay here. We must return to Moscow. Now it's clear. We sat silently in the kitchen and drank tea. “Well, what are we going to do?” – I looked at my sons. “What can you do, dad, we have to go.”

I don't know how to work now. How to show what I can do. I feel a lot of things, but now I'm just cut off. And do I know how to do anything at all? I didn’t feel death... Or didn’t I want to admit it to myself? Will I be able to pull myself together and produce the result? It's good to work when everything is good. At that moment it seemed to me that there was nothing positive in my life and there never would be. Natalya's departure ruined everything. I remembered our life day after day. The memory became sharper and gave out one or another picture from the past, our joys and sorrows, and it was unbearable. In any case, we must act. My guys are still very young, and they should know and see how to behave. All my relatives gathered. Everyone was in a depressed mood. The sharp turn of my life could not but affect the life of my family. Everyone was waiting for change. I said that we were flying to Moscow. I never told anyone about my real goal. A secret is a secret.

We returned to the capital. Even though my youngest son had a place in a university dormitory, I did not let him go there. For now, we'll all be together, and then we'll see. It will be easier for the three of us, but there, in the hostel, with unfamiliar people, he will be left alone with grief. Yes, and I will be calmer when he is in front of my eyes. New city, new people. We began to live in a new way, and I completely forgot that I was 48 years old. There is a lot of work ahead. You just need to get together and do as much as possible.

Marina called late at night. Her voice was not as cheerful as always. She was extremely polite and laconic: “Test tomorrow.” At the appointed time I arrived at the appointed place. Usually noisy project participants and crew members behaved quietly. A girl named Olga, some kind of chief administrator, approached me. She spoke words of condolences, she was worried. She didn't seem to have that experience. And it’s good that it wasn’t. But I had it, and it made me feel bad. She said something else, I nodded at her, and I myself thought about this experience. Well, why do I need him? Such a cruel test, why do my children need it? I know that everything in the world is arranged fairly, it’s just that this justice sometimes does not fit into the time frame of one person’s life. But then these were thoughts, just thoughts with which I tried to somehow collect myself. Olga asked if I was ready to work. I did not know. My readiness will be determined there, at the test.

Trial. After Natalya left, this word, so often used in the project, no longer seemed so serious to me. The test is when your children suffer from the fact that they have lost their mother, and you cannot replace her for them. And here is work. My job is what I have to do. There are more than enough incentives. The title of the project contains the word “battle”. For me she will be the most real. I will beat my doubts, I will persuade him, I will send spies and scouts to him, but I will break him. I promised.

1

I am five years old. My mother and I are standing at a bus stop on Lenin Street. Across the road is a huge temple. St. Michael's Cathedral. He's absolutely amazing, he's incredibly beautiful and he's very sad. “Mom, why is there a cross at the top, is that an antenna?” Mom smiled: “Maybe an antenna...”

I stood and looked at this temple, and its height made me dizzy. It was a very interesting feeling, and I tried to remember it. Much later I began to do this consciously: remember your emotions and periodically recall them, but for now I just stood and absorbed this new sensation for me.

The bus arrived. We got into it and drove to the city center. There was a bus station right next to the central market, or simply a bazaar. There were many platforms, the buses were crowded, they arrived and departed strictly on schedule. In this third route bus, so crowded with people, we arrived at our platform. We stood in the center of the salon, I held my mother’s hand - I remember that for sure: they didn’t hold me, but I held it. Mom started to go to the front door, but I grabbed Mom, pressed my feet on the floor, covered with black corrugated rubber, and pulled Mom back with all my might. She looked at me in bewilderment, realized that I was not going to give in, shrugged her shoulders, and followed me.

At the very moment when we were leaving the back door of the bus, a truck crashed into the front door at great speed. I was small and didn’t see him flying behind the adults’ backs. Something blue flashed above the crowd. The simultaneous scream of many people and... deathly silence. One of the men standing on the platform ran up to the Emka cab, opened the door - and a completely drunk driver fell out. He was not unconscious - he was simply insane. “Mom, is he crazy?!” Is this what crazy people look like?!”

Something blue that flashed above the crowd turned out to be a little girl wrapped in a blue diaper. Her dad was leaving the front door of the bus and, finding himself directly in front of the speeding car, managed to save his child by throwing him into the crowd. He was also lucky, he survived, only he suffered a broken hip and ribs. I know this man, he lives not far from my parents.

Already as an adult, I tried to analyze what exactly I felt when I hit the floor of the bus. I have never been capricious, I always obeyed my elders, I did not throw tantrums, but here something unusual happened to me - I became the boss. More important than mom! And he was able to drag her in the right direction. I don’t remember my feelings now - the disaster supplanted everything, becoming dominant, but I remember well that the decision was made spontaneously and instantly.

2

My earliest memories are from 1963, when I was three years old. I remember very well the day when my mother bought a Zarya washing machine. It was the first word I read in my life, and I remember it. Mom brought the car on a cart. The cart was a real one, wooden. The coachman or cab driver, I don’t know what to call this man of unknown age in a canvas raincoat, helped my mother unload the car and bring it into the house. I don’t know why, but I decided that his name was Kuzma. And so it turned out - his name was Kuzma, and he was very surprised how I knew him. And I just said that, without thinking at all why. Now I understand: this name suited him!

I remember my mother's face. In those days, a washing machine was the epitome of real little happiness, and I was also in this happy cloud. That's probably why I remembered it. So my first memory is connected with happiness! And even if it is caused by the fact that mom bought a washing machine, it doesn’t really matter! Happinnes exists! Happiness is here and now!

3

Why is a shoe called a boot? I asked myself this question when I was 5 years old. Why exactly this way and not otherwise? The adults couldn't answer me. A common children's question. Why this or that object is given one or another name is clear, but why this particular combination of sounds - I was very curious! In essence, I began to understand the world with such questions.

My childhood was not very eventful. According to my parents, I didn't bother them much, and my grandfather was sometimes amazed that I grew up without causing problems.

– Do you ever hold this child in your arms? – he asked my mom and dad.

- No, we don’t take it. He doesn't cry or beg. He minds his own business.

I really minded my own business and was never bored. I didn't like attracting the attention of adults. I loved listening. I listened to everything people said. He understood some things, didn’t understand others, but somehow guessed the meaning. I rarely asked questions. There was no one to ask them. Then I knew less than now, but I had one knowledge from birth and forever: no one will answer my most important questions. But still I tried to find answers.

With age, my sense of understanding the world began to change: I am growing and receiving more and more information, but this volume moves me further and further away from knowledge. The more I learned, the more questions I had! There are fewer doubts as a child, and I thought that the more I learned, the less blind spots there would be. I was wrong. Now I understand that I was wrong, but then I was just studying this world. This is probably why I started reading early. I suddenly realized that these little icons - letters - would allow me to get the information I needed.

4

My mother taught me to read. Somehow, letter by letter, by the age of five I was already reading quite well, and I was terribly bored in the first grade. I still remember: my reading speed was one hundred and eighty words per minute - at the level of a 5th grade schoolchild, and there was little point in repeating these endless “a-a... be... ve...” that my classmates muttered, for whom The Primer was a real discovery. My neighbor raised her hand, the teacher drew attention to her: “And Shurik is reading!” The teacher came up to me: “What are you reading, Shurik?” I took out from under my desk the book “The Last of the Mohicans” by Fenimore Cooper. I wasn’t scared, I was upset - the book was very interesting, and I only had three or four pages left to read to the end. The teacher asked where I stopped, I showed.

- Interesting?

- Yes very.

– Do you have anyone at home now?

- Yes mom. She's on her second day today...

Mom worked shifts at the factory. But the word “change” was never said. The first or the second - and everything was clear to everyone.

- Go home!

I walked and tried to figure out: was I kicked out of class or let go because I didn’t need to learn this subject? I couldn’t wrap my head around the possibility of not going to school, because I knew: everyone had to go to school and sit there for a certain time. And I decided that I was kicked out! When my mother asked why I came so early, I replied that my stomach hurt. Mom got worried, but I said: “Don’t worry, while I was going home, everything was already over.” I didn’t think I was wrong for not telling my mother the truth. It seemed to me that if I started reasoning and demanding some preferences for myself, I would make my parents worry about trifles, and even without me their mouths were full of worries. That’s why, in fact, I came up with a sick stomach.

I was never released from the reading lesson, and I continued to suffer from idleness, since I practically stopped reading in class, and during breaks I really wanted to run. I ran and periodically bumped into something or someone, but once they crashed into me. They crashed so hard that I took off from the ground, flew at least a meter, and slammed into the “Pioneer Heroes” stand. Each photograph of the young hero was covered with glass. Since there were many heroes, there were also many pieces of glass, and they all broke into small fragments. The battering ram, which threw me onto the wall, proceeded safely along the school corridor, knocking down everyone and everything, and I, having lost control of my breathing from the impact, squatted down right in the epicenter of the destruction of the heroic stand. My parents were called to school. Nobody asked me how the collision happened. Nobody listened to me.

– Tomorrow I’m going to school with my parents!

- With both?

- No, one is enough!

And I trudged home. At home I told my mom and dad about the invitation.

In the morning I went to school with my dad and I was very sad. I thought that I would get the full program for nothing, and I was terribly offended, although I, in fact, had not received anything yet, but my imagination worked to the maximum. I expected some kind of punishment from my dad, and the worst punishment would be to sit at home and not play everything I could with my friends. We walked down the street and caught up with the school principal. This man was respected and feared by the whole school! He had one eye, and the other was hidden by a black bandage. He received his wound at the front, in a difficult battle, and for us boys, he was an indisputable authority. Later, when he taught us history, we instantly became very grown-up when our teacher suddenly interrupted his lecture, sank into a chair and sat like a Rodin thinker, and a tear rolled out from under the black bandage. We knew that he was in pain, and we felt so sorry for him that we were afraid to disturb him even with a breath of our breath. The director was our neighbor. He asked, “What happened?” After all, fathers and children rarely go to school for no reason. And he asked not dad, but me! As we walked, I explained the situation. He understood and said that there was no need for my dad's visit. Dad went to work, and the director and I went to school.

Then he saved me again when I was kicked out of math class. I wasn’t being a hooligan, I was sitting quietly, but the boy sitting behind me was annoying me by poking me in the back with a metal ruler. He didn’t respond to the words, and I had to turn around and stick my fist in his direction. The math teacher was eight months pregnant, and she clearly had no time for us. She sent me out the door without hesitation. I sat on the windowsill and was bored: the book remained in my briefcase, it was not the last lesson, and I still had to sit here for half an hour until the next one. Having nothing else to do, I began to listen to voices. Information flowed from behind closed doors - Russian, history, botany; in some classes it was noisy, and in others there was silence. I got carried away, I was no longer bored, and I did not notice how the director approached me.

- Why were you kicked out of class?

- For the noise.

- Let's go to.

He opened the door to the classroom, looked sternly at the teacher and told me: “Go, sit in your place.”

I sat down. I had no resentment or annoyance. I looked at the teacher, whose face was completely covered with pigment spots, and I knew that I would not succeed in mathematics. Not because there were bad teachers - no! I just knew for sure: I wouldn’t need mathematics in my life. From the point of view of the school, this knowledge could be a significant obstacle in my correct implementation, but, more importantly, this knowledge saved me from the unnecessary ability to think logically. Later, this freedom from logic became a very important type of freedom for me!

5

I had a problem with identification. The problem arose after I went beyond the invisible boundary of my family. My parents were so strong that they didn’t even think that I might have some difficulties, that I wouldn’t be able to solve something on my own. In fact, I did not have a special education related to the analysis of certain situations. No notations, no recommendations. Solve problems as they arise, and at the same time rely on your own strengths. This was probably the most important attitude, which later helped me many times in life. I had a firm conviction that I myself, only myself, would find the answers to my questions, I just needed to wait for the right moment in life. Sometimes it seemed to me that such a habit significantly reduced my ability to adapt and adjust to the system, but the events that occurred later based on the decision I made said that everything was correct. Rely on yourself and don't follow the lead of the majority. I realized very early on that the majority is most often wrong.

It’s difficult to recognize the fact of your individuality when everyone around you says that we are united, we are together, we are a collective, we have a common responsibility, we are the same, we must wear the same clothes, do what everyone else does, walk in order, love and sing the same songs. Even now I know that I owe nothing to anyone except my parents and children, and then the word “should” simply drove me into a dead end and melancholy. Yes, it is very convenient when there is uniformity, when thoughts and desires are the same. When you don’t have to choose words, and be in a constant search for balance. When you don’t have to adapt to some strange people who have their own outlook on life. The easiest way is to make everyone the majority, come up with a value system for this majority, encourage those who were able to integrate into the system as much as possible, and call this very ability to integrate a value. I was lucky, I was very lucky: my protest against uniformity - childish and completely naive - was perceived by mom and dad as objective. It was just not seen as a protest. They were even pleased with the decision I made. A decision that became one of the most important in my life!

I, like most children in my small town, was assigned to kindergarten. I went to kindergarten at the machine-tool plant where my mother worked at that time. Mom took me to the garden and said it would be fun. There will be a lot of children and in general - children go to kindergarten, and adults go to work. I went without whims, curiosity was strong, and I wanted to see what it was like - a kindergarten.

The comfort of the kindergarten was somehow official, but it didn’t bother me, just as the smell of bleach and something else sour didn’t bother me. On the very first day in kindergarten, I realized that this place was not for me: I really didn’t like the fact that I had to sleep during the day. Why should I sleep during the day? The sun is shining, it’s warm outside, but for some reason I have to sleep. You need to sleep at night, when the light from the sun does not interfere! By that time I was 4 years old, and it had been a year since I had been put to sleep during the day, I remember that for sure! The decision to run away from kindergarten came to me on the fourth day. I'm not entirely sure that this was the result of adult failure. Most likely, with any teacher I would have made this decision, and at that period of my life everything happened exactly like that.

Until now, I have never met insincere people. Everyone loved me, and if they were angry, it was completely without anger; they rather pretended to be angry. But what I encountered in kindergarten led me to indescribable horror. A pretty teacher with a dazzling smile spoke sweetly to the children. But I didn't like it. She smiled, and I understood that she was evil! Angry, like the neighbor's dog, which periodically barked at passers-by. The dog had an absolutely ferocious face. And it was right: the dog is angry, the face is angry - everything fits together. But it didn’t add up here. I just felt this internal threat with my skin. It was difficult for me to understand one simple thing: people can be insincere. I have never met such people before! My parents never told me that people can say one thing, think another, and do another.

The teacher showed up on the fourth day of my stay in kindergarten, apparently deciding that she had already babysat me enough. It was quiet time. I, as in the previous three days, lay in some kind of iron bed that was not mine, looked at the ceiling and dreamed about something of my own. I have been able to dream since childhood. Even then I realized that my plans are realized primarily because I have a very beautiful, rich dream. Some can draw beautifully, others can play musical instruments beautifully, but I can dream! That time I was dreaming too. I didn’t play around, didn’t pester other children, didn’t toss and turn. But I didn't sleep! And this was a violation of the rules. She came up to me, grabbed me by my pajamas and threw me into the corner. Now there was a balance: evil face – evil emotions. I wasn’t scared, I stood the allotted time in the corner, and on my first walk I found a hole in the fence, climbed through it, and went to work with my dad. I knew where he worked.

I came to the checkpoint of the military unit and asked the huge soldier on duty there to call my dad. Then all the soldiers seemed huge and very mature to me. The fighter asked what my dad's name was. I said his name was Bogdan. That was enough. Of the thousand people in the regiment, my dad was the only Bogdan.

This was the last day I visited kindergarten as a student. Then I came to kindergarten many more times, but as a dad, and always looked very carefully at my sons’ teachers in order to prevent their early contact with human hypocrisy. I explained to them that the majority of people are weak, so they are cunning, they lie, they are hypocrites, they play some role, but precisely because this is their weakness, they need to be lenient.

Now, when I hear that preschool is necessary for the comprehensive development of the individual, I mentally smile. Firstly, the criterion itself is not correct: comprehensive development is impossible. We are all, without exception, damn talented, but our talents are very limited in the areas of application. I like the desire to comprehend everything that is on the planet, but this should be the desire of society, not an individual. That's why we are people, to be different, because in our difference, in our diversity is our strength. At the level of the planet, its structure, this is obvious: there is water, land, mountains, forests, cold and hot continents, and a variety of flora and fauna. Nature supports the collective talent - the planet, but will not be able to support one person, whose interests will be limitless. I am no exception and, of course, not comprehensively developed, but What I have and can do is, rather, in spite of the system and thanks to my family.