Whole Earth Holiday 2019

Ringing Cedars readers!
Family Homestead creators!

You are invited to celebrate our new holiday, the Whole Earth Holiday, on 23 July 2019 together with us at Szasz Walker Family Homestead in Batlow, NSW.

This new international holiday was invented together by Vladimir and Anastasia, first celebrated in Russia, and is ultimately destined to be a whole-Earth celebration of nature, joy and love!

“On that day there will be nothing to upset children. Let the grownups be their equals … On that day, let all the Gods be embodied in simple images. And God—the one, Universal God—will be happy. On that day may you be very happy with love and the shining Earth!”

— Anastasia, 0209

Travel information

Batlow is in the inland snowy mountains, New South Wales, off the Hume Highway halfway between Sydney and Melbourne. Access is easiest by car but there is also public transport. Check your route on Google Maps or Transport NSW. Drive from Sydney is usually 4.5 – 5 hr.

You are invited to camp on our 5ha of land but since this is a new establishment we regret that facilities are only rudimentary. Come prepared for the cold — it will be the dead of winter. Last year, the lowest night time temperature was -8°C. There is also accommodation in town, like the Apple Inn, Batlow Hotel, Endor glamping, or plenty more options in Tumut and Tumbarumba that you can search yourself.

We will have a midday meal together on 23 July. Bring food, especially your own produce, if you like, or just come to share and enjoy.

Please confirm your attendance with Kemble on 0478 417 306

About the holiday

… from Book 2 “Ringing Cedars of Russia”, Chapter 9 “Summer People Day and a Whole Earth Holiday!”

“We have to make sure that everyone rejoices and feels good. This holiday will begin in Russia, and it will become the most beautiful holiday on Earth—a holiday for the Soul.”

“How will it be celebrated the very first time in Russia? After all, no one will know how.”

“On that day, each person’s heart will suggest to them what to do.”

“But I’ll create a general model right away.”

Anastasia went on to speak, precisely pronouncing each letter. Inspired, she spoke quickly and with inspiration. Her speech rhythms, her sentence structure, and her pronunciation were unusual:

“Let Russia rise at dawn that day. Let all people as families, with friends, and singly approach the Earth and stand on It with feet bare. Those who have their own small plots where they cultivate fruits with their own hands, let them greet the Sun’s first ray among their plants and touch each kind.

“When the Sun rises, let them pick and eat one of each kind of berry. They won’t need anything more until the midday meal. Let them tend their plots until their meal. Let each think about life and where his joy and purpose lie.

“Let each think lovingly of those dear to him and of friends and of why his plants grow and give each its own purpose. Before the meal, each should have at least one hour of seclusion. It doesn’t matter where or how, but it must without fail be in seclusion, where he can be alone and look inward for at least an hour.

“Let the entire family gather for a meal—those living together and those who have come from far away that day. Let them prepare the midday meal from what the Earth has yielded for that hour. Let each place on the table what his heart and Soul desire.

“Then let the members of the entire family tenderly look each other in the eye. Let the oldest and youngest say grace, and let calm conversation flow around the table. The conversation must be about the good and about whoever is by their side.”

Anastasia drew the scene extraordinarily vividly. I could feel myself sitting at the table with people beside me. Caught up in the holiday, believing in it—or rather that it had already taken place—I added, “The first toast should be made before the meal. Everyone should raise their glass and drink to the Earth and to Love.” I felt as though I were already holding a glass.

And all of a sudden she said, “Vladimir, let there be no intoxicating poison at the table.”

The glass disappeared from my hands. And the entire holiday scene vanished.

“Anastasia, stop it! Don’t spoil the holiday!”

“Oh well, if you want it, let there be wine from berries on the table, and it should be sipped.”

“Well, all right, let it be wine, just so we don’t change all our habits right away. What will we do after the meal?”

“Let people return to their cities. They can harvest the fruits of their small plots of the Earth, carry them in baskets, and share with those who have none.

“Oh, how many positive emotions there will be on that day! They will conquer many diseases, those diseases that mean death and those that have lingered for years will go away. On that day, let he who is incurably or slightly ill greet the stream of people returning from their little plots.

“Their rays of Love and Good and their fruits will heal and vanquish diseases. Look! Look! A train station! A stream of people with colorful baskets! See how people’s eyes are shining with peace and good.”

All of Anastasia seemed to be beaming as she became more and more inspired by the holiday idea. Her eyes no longer simply gleamed joyfully, they seemed to shoot off blue sparks. Varied but always joyful nuances changed her facial expression, as if scenes from the Great Holiday were streaming tumultuously through her mind.

Suddenly, she fell silent. Bending one knee and raising her right arm up, she pushed off the ground with one foot and shot up like an arrow over the Earth. She jumped nearly to the Cedars’ first branches.

When she descended, she waved her arm and clapped, and a bluish illumination flooded the entire glade. What Anastasia went on to say seemed to be echoed by each tiny bug and blade of grass and each majestic Cedar.

Anastasia’s sentences seemed to be strengthened by a great invisible force. They weren’t loud, but I had the impression that each and every vein of the vast Universe heard them. I too interjected my own phrases, because I couldn’t stop myself, as she began.

“On that day, visitors will come to Russia! All who were born by the Telamons of the Earth! The prodigal sons will return! Let people all over Russia wake at dawn on that day.

“And let the strings of the Universal harp sound a happy melody throughout the day. Let all the bards on the streets and in homes play guitars. And let he who is very old be young again that day, as he was many, many years ago.”

“Will I be young, too, Anastasia?”

“You and I will be young, too, Vladimir, as people will be young for the first time. Old people will write their children letters, and children will write to their parents. Let babies take their first step in life and enter a joyous, happy world. On that day there will be nothing to upset children. Let the grownups be their equals.

“And the Gods will drop to the Earth. On that day, let all the Gods be embodied in simple images. And God—the one, Universal God—will be happy. On that day may you be very happy with love and the shining Earth!”

Anastasia was carried off by her scenes of the holiday. Becoming more and more inspired, she spun through the glade, as if in a dance.

“Stop! Stop!” I shouted to Anastasia, suddenly realizing she was taking this all seriously. She was not just saying words. I realized that she was modeling scenes of the holiday with each word and oddly constructed sentence.

With her characteristic persistence, she would go on modeling and dreaming of it until her dreams became a reality. She would dream like a fanatic! She would try for her summer people as she had been for the twenty years before this. I shouted in order to stop her.

“Haven’t you realized? This is a joke, this holiday! I was joking!”

Anastasia stopped short. The moment I looked at the expression on her face, my Soul felt a pang. Her face was as distraught as a child’s. Her eyes looked at me with pain and regret, as if I were some kind of destroyer. And she spoke in almost a whisper.

“I took you seriously, Vladimir. I’ve already modeled it all. And a link has been woven into the chain of events of people’s upcoming telegrams. Without them, the sequence of events will be destroyed. I accepted what you said, believed in it, and produced it.

“I felt you were speaking sincerely about the holiday and telegrams. Don’t take back what you said. Just help me with the telegrams so that I can help with my Ray, as you said.”

“All right, I’ll try. Please calm down. Maybe no one will want to send those telegrams.”

“There will be people who will understand. People in your government and Duma will feel it, too. And there will be a holiday! There will! Look.”

Once again the scenes of the holiday went racing off. Now I have written about this. Go and act as your heart and Soul command.