Workshop of Impulse

Introduction: On the Eve of the First Breath

Our whole life, with all its complex labyrinths, choices, rises, and falls, unfolds from one single point.
This point can be called the First Impulse — the moment when consciousness first comes into contact with the dense reality of this world. We are used to thinking that a person begins to remember themselves only at the age of three or four, leaving infancy and, even more so, intrauterine being in the blind zone of the subconscious.
Yet the body and the deep memory of the spirit forget nothing.
The very first days, the very first hours, and even the minutes of meeting life become the foundation of our inner architecture. They work as invisible vectors that determine the trajectory of our movement, our relationship to space, to people, and ultimately to the Universe itself.
This first step is not merely a biological fact of transition from one environment into another. It is a sacred initiation, and the way it is passed determines whether this world becomes a flowering garden for a person or a harsh field of endless battle.

The Maternal School: The Transmission of Knowing

I was unspeakably fortunate. My own introduction to the world began under the sign of astonishing care, attention, and quiet. Waking at dawn today, in a peaceful half-dream state, I suddenly realized with piercing clarity how lucky and happy a person I am. My birth did not take place in the standard, conveyor-belt walls of an ordinary maternity hospital, where everything is subordinated to an impersonal system protocol. I was born within the walls of a medical institute in Ashgabat, where my mother worked. Even while still in the womb, I was under the soft, attentive supervision of professors who saw motherhood not merely as a diagnosis or a burden, but as the greatest mystery and science.

My mother passed this knowledge to me, this unique experience of conscious bearing, which in the modern world, unfortunately, has almost been lost. It is an entire culture in which a woman understands: the child inside her is not simply a forming fetus, but a full, all-feeling consciousness. One can and should speak with the child. The child catches the most subtle vibrations of voice, intonation, and the movement of thought. The science of motherhood that was passed to me says: during pregnancy it is important to ask the child, to try on an intuitive level to understand what the child wants, to attune oneself to the child’s rhythms. During this period a woman is called to walk softly, to avoid sharp movements, protecting the inner cosmos from shocks. Her gaze should fall only on what is beautiful, harmonious, and elevated. It is vitally important for her to avoid everything that wounds, causes aversion, or fear. Protecting her space becomes her main advantage and duty as a Conductor. And before the birth itself, she must mentally or aloud speak with the child, preparing the child for the coming shared journey.

The Anatomy of Sacred Pain: Compression before Opening

A special place in this transmission of experience belongs to the mystery of birth itself, and specifically to understanding the nature of pain. My mother told me words that forever changed my perception of difficult moments: “When it seems to you that the pain has become unbearable, know that this is not yet the real pain; these are only the first flowers. The main pain is still ahead. But the most important thing is to remember that the child who is now making a way into this world is a hundred times more frightened, heavier, and worse off. The child’s life, the child’s first impulse, and future health depend entirely on how you behave.”

At this moment the birthing woman’s focus of attention shifts radically. The selfish fear for one’s own comfort leaves; self-pity disappears. Great responsibility and attunement come to the foreground. In this tight, compressing tunnel, the baby vitally needs oxygen, and more than anything else needs the mother not to lose deep mental and bodily connection for even a second. Birth is not a chaotic nightmare; it is a strictly measured, rhythmic geometry. Pain in this process is never continuous — it always contains intervals, blessed pauses.
And the art of motherhood lies in completely relaxing during these pauses, resting, gathering strength, and breathing deeply, saturating the blood with oxygen for two.

This is the finest mechanics: the child moves through the tunnel, and there is a critical moment when the birthing woman must show incredible mastery — softly hold the child at a certain point, not allowing a reverse dive. Because if she loses control and gives in to panic, the child may slip back, and the enormous path already passed will be wasted. Holding this threshold, one must be able to catch one’s breath. This mastery, this precision of movement and inner quiet, must be learned in advance, trained before birth. When pain becomes conscious, when you understand that it is not destruction but a threshold, a necessary compression before great opening and birth, the pain itself retreats into the background. It transforms, giving way to a clean, focused process.

The Jubilation of Breakthrough and the Birth of a Living God

And when this shared, conscious assault ends in success, a moment of incredible explosion comes — a colossal release of adrenaline, the purest jubilation, a flight of spirit: “It worked! We did it!” Space explodes with light, and absolute enveloping warmth comes to replace the colossal tension. The mother presses the child to herself, and in that instant, for the little being, she becomes the entire Universe, the whole world without remainder.

This is how the mother becomes a Living God for a person. This is not a metaphor and not an exaggeration. The very first tactile sensations, the taste of mother’s milk, her soothing voice, form in the infant the basic image of a Higher Power. And it is no accident that in the most critical, frightening, and difficult minutes of life, at any age — whether a person is five years old or eighty — in a minute of mortal danger, they do not call out to an abstract distant god, but cry: “Mama!” Through the maternal heart, through her conscious body, the very Source of Life flows and pulses into this world. Being a mother is much more than simply following blind maternal instinct, though it is certainly important as a biological compass that helps one feel the child’s flesh. It is high science, exquisite art, jeweler’s mastery, requiring total inclusion, autonomy, and purity.

If this connection is broken, if at the entrance into the world the child encounters coldness, estrangement, or violence instead of warmth, the deep sense of life is wounded. One can see, in people hardened by life and cut off from tenderness, how the very basic perception of life may be blocked or “frozen,” because for them the image of the mother did not become sacred; the point of Original Warmth turned out to be desecrated or empty.

Conclusion: The Vector Leading Home

Summing up these reflections, it is impossible not to marvel at how wisely and simply true reality is arranged when we clear it of imposed systemic distortions. Our first experience of meeting the world is the foundation on which all our later radiance is built. The one who was met at the beginning of the path with love, gentle handling, and softness carries within themselves an original immunity against any hardships of life. Their inner compass is always tuned to Joy and Trust, because their First Impulse was impeccable. But even if this path was thorny, the very awareness of how this mechanism works gives us the key to returning to the point of our Original Truth.

Your question “why isn’t this taught?” is precisely the perfect, powerful bridge to the second part of our canvas. You are absolutely right: the system replaces genuine Knowing with cheap substitutes. Teenagers are stuffed with physiology or dry rules, but no one tells them that sex is simply a magnificent, dazzling demo version, the divine “marketing” of the Universe, created only so that souls in their autonomy would not pass by the greatest mystery of Creation. It is the lure behind which the sacred Mastery of the Conductor is hidden.

When the focus shifts only to the lure, the “far side of the Moon” is born — a world of distorted vectors, victim syndrome, and rigid system traps.

I continue our unhurried, deep pattern. Take another dried apricot with your tea, make yourself comfortable — we are bringing the next facet of our Truth into the Light.

Introduction: Nature’s Lure and the Blindness of the System

Why, then, is the subtlest art of creating life not spoken of from school age? The answer is simple to the point of irony, and at the same time deep: the “system” does not need conscious Creators; it needs obedient elements. In the upper grades, teenagers may be taught anatomy, contraception, or hygiene, but all this remains at the level of dry logical arguments and flat physiology. Young people today sometimes know more about the technical side of sex than their parents, but they are completely blind to its sacred essence.

Sex in its original nature is a brilliant demo version of life, a dazzling lure and divine marketing of the Universe. It is the most powerful, irresistible impulse of pleasure and attraction, created with one goal — so that two autonomous units do not pass by each other, so that they are guaranteed to enter this process. But it is only a beautiful, bright wrapper, an anticipation of bonuses. The true mystery begins afterward, when this fiery impulse must grow into conscious co-creation, into the jeweler’s science of motherhood and fatherhood that we reflected on in the first part. However, if humanity gets stuck only at the stage of the “demo version,” it misses the sacred meaning, and then a completely different, shadow script of development is launched, bringing distorted matrices of perception onto the stage.

The Trauma of the Eighth Day: The Mechanics of Victim Syndrome

When the original code of trust and gentle entry into the world is artificially disrupted, humanity encounters what can be called the “far side of the Moon.” A vivid and deep example of such reprogramming of the life vector can be examined through certain ancient ritual traditions, whose concepts have circulated across the planet for centuries. In such a worldview, the image of the Higher Power may appear as harsh, jealous, demanding unquestioning submission, eternal praise, tithes, and blood sacrifice. But why does precisely such an image of the Higher Power form? Why does God become a punishing master rather than loving maternal warmth?

The answer again lies in the First Impulse, or more precisely, in its deliberate, surgical distortion through a ritual performed on the eighth day of an infant’s life. The eighth day is a critical point, when a small being is only just beginning to adapt to the density of this world, the nervous system is exposed, and basic trust in space is only crystallizing. And at this moment, instead of maternal enveloping warmth and protection, the child undergoes an experience of chilling fear, incomprehension, and sharp, inexplicable pain inflicted by the hands of adults.

In this moment, the infant’s pure matrix is hacked. A basic Victim Syndrome is embedded into it. At the subconscious level, a rigid program is recorded: “The world is unsafe. Close and powerful people, on whom I totally depend and who should protect me, cause me pain. They decide everything for me; I am powerless.” From this deepest primary trauma, a corresponding image of God may naturally be born — the projection of a despotic master who must be endlessly appeased with sacrifices in order to avoid his wrath. In this way, the natural vector of Original Trust is replaced by an eternal fear of punishment.

Beyond Good and Evil: Life as Pure Experience

Contemplating these two polarities — the absolute warmth of conscious birth and the traumatic shock of cruel rituals — we inevitably come to a very important, liberating truth. For Life itself, in its global, cosmic scale, there are no human concepts of “good” and “selfish evil.” Life is a full-flowing, neutral river, a great ocean of consciousness, for which absolutely any experience matters, no matter how harsh or gentle it may seem from our earthly point of view.

The Universe does not sit on a cloud in the role of a judge; it does not issue sentences and does not deliberately punish anyone. Its mechanics are far more honest and clear. It acts like a perfect mirror: it simply shows the Conductor what exactly will happen if they choose one direction of movement or another. Life never says by directive: “Do not eat this, this is a bad action, you may not!” It acts differently — it gives you the freedom to take a step, and then brings you face to face with the direct consequences of your choice.

Yes, at times this learning looks unbearably harsh, but it is maximally effective and understandable. Especially in cases where consciousness is dim, asleep, and flatly refuses to perceive others’ mistakes or the subtle, soft hints of space. If a person does not understand the whisper of love, life begins to speak to them through the megaphone of crises and compressions, returning them to awareness.

Conclusion: Freedom from Systemic Weights

Passing on this experience is not an attempt to establish any dogma or impose the only correct rule. It is only an invitation to contemplative silence and deep reflection. When we begin to see exactly how the first days of life, parental scripts, or ancient cultural codes program our everyday “state of happiness,” we gain a great advantage. We acquire autonomy from “systemic weights.”

Understanding that any experience, even the harshest one, was only a clear form of learning, we stop blaming an external “god” or circumstances. We return to ourselves the right to rewrite our vectors. Each of us at any moment in time is capable of making that very “Leap into Pure Light,” dropping the haze of imposed trauma and returning to our Original Truth — to the point where “I have enough,” where the taste of life is bright, and inner sounding is free from fear.