Page 20 - The Mirror of My Soul. Vol. 1

Nicolai Levashov. The Mirror of My Soul. Vol. 1. Born in the USSR

Mountain to the airport and the layout of the runways, all the airplanes had to fly over

blocks of flats, including our house as well.

It was in this house that my father got our flat. Coincidence? Quite possibly. But,
if it were not for this fortuity, I wouldn’t have been able to see the same picture in the
porthole of the airplane that I saw in my “strange dream”. And at that time I had nothing
to compare my “dream” with any reality, so what happened to me would have remained
a “strange dream”. But, after seeing exactly the same picture that was manifested in my
“dream”, I had no doubt that what happened to me had been real.

* * *
I will not say that at the time I understood perfectly what had happened to me. But
I was al-ready sure it was real, because I had gotten irrefutable proof. After that nobody
would be able to dissuade me from it. These are not just words. Ever since childhood I
was very stubborn and if I was sure of something, mere words were not enough to
dissuade me.

I recall my first “scientific deductions”. Like any boy I had a large share of cuts and
scratches, etc. Quite often I had occasion to observe dried blood. One day I noticed that
rust on metal looks just like dried blood. It was my first “scientific discovery”. I
announced to my mother that there was iron in blood. I was five then and absolutely

proud of my “discovery”. I was eager to share it with my indisputable authority—my
mother.

When I solemnly revealed to her my “great” discovery, she said quietly that I was
wrong. I tried to convince her of the truth of my statement by showing her dried blood
and rust, but she was adamant. No arguments swayed her and she continued to persuade
me that I was wrong. Nevertheless, I, being offended at her unwillingness to see the
obvious, stuck to my opinion. A similar thing happened, when I wanted to share my
conclusion that our sun was only one of many stars. Of course all this strongly distressed
me, but did not budge me.

Later, when I had already attended school and knew from textbooks that I was right,
I asked her about the reason for her answers. I asked her whether she, as a physician,
really didn’t know about iron in the blood or that the sun was one of the stars in the

universe! Her simple answer surprised me.

She told me that naturally she knew about it, and that the reason for such answers
was her de-sire to train my character. She did not want me to change my opinion only
because someone, whom I or others considered an authority, negated my assertions
without giving me any proof of their position.

Before I went to school she was my sole, respected authority and, this is how she
trained me to be independent in judgment and opinion. I appreciate her greatly for it.
Who knows how every-thing would have turned out in my life, if it were not for this? At
school and later at the university I was already prepared for the fact that everything I
was taught in those institutions was not the absolute truth. If you see and understand

things differently from the way most people do, it does not mean that you are wrong and
they are right, only because (supposedly) the majority cannot be wrong. But it can and
then some!

When I was fourteen, I experienced a state rarely known to anyone. It happened in
the summer of 1975. One evening I felt very tired—my eyes simply stuck together. I

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