Reality Transurfing
“When life gives you lemons, just say, “Fuck the lemons” and bail.” - Paul Rudd
Writing about spiritual matters without veering into the realm of the absurd is a delicate balancing act. The author must ground themselves in something tangible as the Western mind refuses to contemplate anything seriously unless it rests upon some form of metaphysical housing.
That is why George Gurdjieff chose science fiction as the vessel for his philosophy in Beelzebub’s Tales to his Grandson. It’s why Colin Wilson used alien parasites as a metaphor for the violent and sudden influence moods can have on us in his science fiction novel The Mind Parasites. Vadim Zeland, in his book, Reality Transurfing explores the idea that perception does not shape reality but becomes it. His philosophical framework suggests that the sum total of how the universe is doing is no different from the sum total of how it feels to be you.
The mind moves where it looks. Those who live in fear and timidity will gravitate towards spaces that reflect those fears back at them. This echoes Swedenborg who argued that heaven and hell are not determined by morality but by comfort. Hell is heaven for those that belong there.
In the final section of Reality Transurfing, Zeland concedes that his concept—focused intent can shift individuals to more prosperous lifelines—works without the six-hundred-page framework he spent the entire book constructing. He even describes the human mind as cybernetic, an observation that aligns with Maxwell Maltz’s Psycho-Cybernetics.
Natural Buoyancy
Maltz, a former cosmetic surgeon, likened the mind to a heat-seeking missile, constantly adjusting its course based on the programming it has received. His theory emerged from years of observing patients who sought surgery to fix what they believed were the causes of their own unhappiness. Time again—he found that altering appearances did nothing to address the deeper inadequacy driving their dissatisfaction. A person who believes they are inherently unworthy will continue to feel unworthy irrespective of how many procedures they undergo. By the end of his career, Maltz focused solely on reconstructive surgery—procedures that restored a person’s former appearance (and thus their previous baseline) rather than create a new false self.
This principle extends past physical appearance. Consider a salesman programmed to see himself as a $50,000 a-year earner. If he has an exceptional first quarter, he will unconsciously sabotage his success for the rest of the year to stick to his baseline. Conversely, if he falls behind, he will push himself unnaturally hard in the final months to hit the familiar target. His subconscious refuses to violate its prime directive: I am a $50,000 salesman—until he rewrites that programming, or he dies.
Lottery winners illustrate the same principle. At first, their newfound wealth unlocks a cascade of novel experiences. But over time their enjoyment dulls. Ordinary pleasures lose their charm and familiarity turns extravagant indulgences into mundane trivialities. Without a fundamental shift in mindset, they revert to their natural buoyancy. The mind—like water—seek its own level.
Pendulums and Egregores
Another of Zeland’s key ideas is the concept of pendulums—an idea reverberated by psychologists, mystics, and philosophers under various concepts. A pendulum is akin to an egregore, a nonphysical entity that takes on a life of its own via collective groupthink. A flash mob is a fleeting egregore in which the performers are swept up in the exuberance of the act while pushing against the what-the-fuckness of the observers. A riot is a darker manifestation in which individuals who may be peaceful on their own are swept up by the group’s violent momentum.
Nationalism is a more enduring egregore. A nation can only sustain its pride as long as it has something to define itself against. Wave the flag and play the bagpipes, so suddenly decent young men are ready to kill in the name of an idea. Look at the enlistment numbers after the 9/11 attacks.
The crucial realization is that while you experience thoughts and emotions you are not your thoughts and emotions. Gurdjieff compares those who merely follow base programming as “food for the moon.” Richard Rose described the first step of spiritual growth as understanding “nature’s umpire”—the default state of existence—the repetition of birth, reproduction, and death.
Modern life, of course, has already derailed the natural cycle. We overeat, over-drink, and indulge past the limits of health. Drug addiction provides the most extreme example—fentanyl was already catastrophic, and now we have a mixture of veterinary tranquilizer and fentanyl that will literally rot your flesh off. And yep, people still take it.
If you don’t write your own script than you will find yourself at the mercy of a group-think script produced by the multitudes who also failed to find their own script.
Adequate Ideas
Spinoza argued that wisdom and virtue arise from replacing inadequate ideas with more adequate ones. A house, for example, aspires towards the ideal of stability. A house with a roof is more adequate than one without because it better serves its purpose. Likewise, the philosophies advised here all suggest that their value lies only in their function. It is a psychological process undertaken to improve life.
When stripped of mysticism’s fog, all of this becomes an engineering problem. The practicing mystic is no different from a car mechanic or an aeronautical engineer. If you want to stay in the air, you got to follow some rules. If you want to transcend your programming, you got to rewrite the code.
Of all the concepts in Reality Transurfing, pendulums stood out as surprisingly pragmatic, like a wake-up call you can engage in at any moment: have I been caught by a pendulum?
Also, "Hell is heaven for those that belong there." What a statement.