Boris Zolotov is legendary in Russia for transporting people through their mental walls and inhibitions to access higher consciousness — including, amongst other things, the ability to see with their eyes closed. "Gold's Way," he calls it. To speakers of Russian, the gold he offers refers to Self Knowledge.

At the time I requested this "interview," Zolotov was in the midst of a month-long series of his hallmark all-night seminars. His aide told me I would need to be assertive and persistent if I wanted to speak with him, and that the best time to come would be the following week on the night of Zolotov's birthday.

On the appointed day, my friend and translator Natasha Baranova and I bused to the retreat center, about an hour outside Moscow. Natasha had been to one of his courses before, and she advised me, laughingly, to "Be prepared for anything!"

Since we had been told that the workshop would start around midnight, we arrived at the sprawling compound after dark and spent the next few hours wandering from one end of the grounds to the other, looking for someone to get us situated. We finally tracked down the aide who had invited us to come, and she promised to inform Zolotov that we were here and ready for an interview at his earliest convenience.

We were told that there was no set starting time, but that everyone would "just know" when to be there. Not so certain that we ourselves would "just know," we went inside the gymnasium, where people were arriving and setting up elaborate feasts on tables that lined the walls.

At one end of the room was a huge projection screen. At the other end, above the entry doors, the words "You Are Not Alone" were written in English(!), with strings of lights that blinked rhythmically on and off.

By midnight, at least two hundred people of all ages had filtered in, greeting each other effusively.

The lights dimmed. To a roar of applause and shouting, Boris Zolotov strode in measured steps into the room, followed by an entourage of perhaps thirty people.

As the shouting, whistling, clapping, and foot-stomping continued, the group slowly, almost somberly, marched all the way around the gymnasium while strobes and spotlights punctuated their progress.

Zolotov sat down at the end of the room and raised his hands.

Immediate silence. With their backs to the feast tables, the crowd settled into folding chairs around the perimeter of the room.

Now we were treated to a stream of beautifully choreographed dances, with wild music, flashing lights, and fabulous costumes. The sexy, sinuous bodies of both men and women wove complex patterns around each other and across the floor.

After maybe half an hour of this, Zolotov stood to introduce his wife and children, who promenaded with him, one at a time, around the hall while the music played on and people reached out to touch Zolotov as he went past.

More dancing, with balloons, and then firecrackers.

At one point, we watched a video about Zolotov's work, including his substantial scientific accomplishments and research into the paranormal as a member of the Russian Academy of Sciences. Another time, we all got up and danced.

As the hours passed, the wild enthusiasm mellowed into an energy of increasing resonance and openness.

At about 4 in the morning, a huge grilled sturgeon was brought into the hall, and Zolotov kissed it with great ceremony before it was set on the table behind him. Then the lights were brought up and we all descended upon the tables of food and drink — but the sturgeon was not touched.

I learned that people had come to the event in groups, and that the contents of each table had been provided by participants from different cities throughout Russia and her republics.

When we all had our fill of food and drink (vodka and wine flowed freely) and were settling down again, I noticed that Zolotov was standing in the middle of the floor, holding the hand of a young woman who appeared to have muscular dystrophy. Everyone gathered in a silent ring, and the two stood or walked slowly inside the circle we made, conversing quietly. This, I understood from Natasha, was a "healing."

Now — I presume as a special birthday gift — each group took its turn in presenting an extraordinary performance in ethnic costume, while Zolotov literally "held court" (at one point, a crown was placed on his head and a robe on his shoulders). He circled the room, reaching out to touch each person's outstretched fingers.

Then the crown was replaced with a fireman's helmet, and the raucous fun began once again. Staff members paraded into the hall carrying birthday cakes for all the participants.

As he marched around the room, Zolotov told us to fall in line, and he led us through an intricate pattern of spirals and recursive loops. I noticed that Natasha was crying. She told me that she had suddenly become more aware of how we must all take better care of each other.

Just before dawn, we streamed outside for a fireworks display. And back inside for more celebration. The mood of the group was now a pleasant mixture of exuberance and mellowness. The night had been a stream of events in which the orchestrated and the spontaneous flowed seamlessly together.

Around 10 in the morning, Zolotov left the hall, and much of the group followed him. Natasha and I weren't quick enough and we lost track of where they went. For the next hour, we tried unsuccessfully to find him.

Then, while I stood in the foyer, unsure of what to do next, he came walking in — alone. I approached him and reminded him that I wanted an interview. He said, "Yes, but do you mind if I have some vodka first?" I didn't mind, so I followed him into the hall.

As we walked the length of the huge hall, I think Zolotov might have been planning how to use this interview not only as a communication with the readers of Spirit of Ma'at, but also as a teaching session for everyone who was there.

The next thing I knew, he had sat me down in his big chair and was announcing my presence to the group.

Zolotov: We would like to introduce to you Carol Hiltner, who came from America to meet you during this big celebration, to get to know you better in order to grow a stronger friendship between America and Russia.

And so, we will visit our American friends and they will visit us.

Let's give a warm welcome to our guest from faraway America! [cheers and applause] Thank you. She is a very good person, as is any of us here. We don't make any preferences. Every person deserves a happy, humane life, deserves to be loved and deserves to love.

The only thing we should properly understand is that we need simply to be more considerate to each other. And that's it. This kindness could be that you will find a right word for someone, that your eyes will be more compassionate because of your concern for people, that your heart will find the way to share the same heartbeat with other people. It is not that difficult, believe me. But it will give so much to all the people around you.

And now we will start our holy ceremony. America is not very far from Russia. The distance is only 4 kilometers and 135 meters through the Bering Strait. We are so close geographically, but so far apart in knowledge about each other.

Some Americans think that bears walk in the streets of Moscow, and that's not true. We have bears, but they live in the forest. And Russians think that Americans always put their feet on the table. And that is not true, either.

Of course, there are differences. For example, Russians have geese for Christmas and Americans have turkeys.

But we have a whole lot more in common. All Americans that I have met — and I know many Americans who have high positions — are just simple, good people who appreciate individuality and creativity and don't like to be controlled by anybody.

This is a very positive moment. Collective actions in America and Russia are based on the same desire to help other people when they are in trouble. This is a normal position for us as human beings. That's why I want you to support our American friend!

We have many good things here to enjoy together: We have 50-year-old wine. The people from Moldava brought a lot of fruit. This is nature and this is joy, and the wine itself is also a joy, something we got from nature.

It can bring us, as a virtual time machine, back to that year when the wine was produced, when the grape was ripe. We can do the same with the way we think — come back to our original, pristine feeling, our original thinking, to our original world, and that will be our bright future. And that's why we need to drink in honor of our American guest. Na pososhok! [Here's to good luck!]

Let me introduce to you our host, a nobleman by birth, a hereditary prince [this was the man who brought the wine].

The first glass we will drink to open our hearts for communication, to start to respect each other, because national ideas in either Russia or America are based on the same thing — respect for a human being, any human being. We don't divide people into first or second class.

This is 50-year-old wine, and I don't want any drop of this nectar, this sunshine, to be lost, because a lot of hard work and energy and love were invested here. It is truly precious, and — trust me — you all deserve to drink it. [applause]

Now, I invite representatives from different cities, and maybe even different countries, to start our dialogue — a dialogue about the power of people.

[Zolotov invited several people out of the audience to come to the front of the hall.]

These are people who decide upon their fate themselves — the fate of their families, their cities, their countries — who are not afraid of taking this enormous responsibility. A strong, powerful nation can't be based on weak individuals. Only strong, smart, conscious, and conscientious individuals are able to start this difficult dialogue.

[Zolotov poured wine for himself and me, and picked up his glass.]

Look at this glass. It looks like there is an electric current between my two fingers. They are like conductors; there is light in a person, and this light is going through this wine.

[He gestured for me to stand, and gave me a wine glass. He turned to the prince, who was holding a sword-shaped bottle of wine that he had brought for the celebration, and positioned him in the middle of the room, holding this "sword" out in front of him.]

This is a special sword. This sword is peaceful — it doesn't kill.

The prince will accept a noble pledge. The first representative is from Seattle [me]. Here's to the city of Seattle! [cheers and applause]

The city of Troitsk [applause], Vladivostok [applause], Naberenye Chelny [applause], Simferopol [applause], Kazan — this city will soon celebrate its thousandth anniversary! [applause]

[talking to me] Now you will have to make a noble pledge...

Carol: My dream is for joy on Earth. [applause]

Zolotov: ...and kiss that noble man. [I did so.] She is the first one initiated as a noble knight homo Sapiens! [applause]

[He invited me to the table where the big sturgeon lay in state.]

Please, try the fish. Take it with your hands. Break the bread with your hands — simple Russian manners. Take the big piece — any piece you want — because [joking] in a little while it could just disappear. Zakusyvaj! [a traditional toast to invite a guest to drink something strong and then eat something to make up for it]

Now, I'm going to show you some cards.

[He pulled a packet of playing-card-sized stickers out of his pocket.]

These are new cards — they will heal anything. If you put one on the door of your friend or your enemy, it will help him...

[to me] Pick a card. Okay, let's see. Who is it? [it was a very odd and amusing picture of Zolotov himself] Oh, look! She has picked the person she invites to visit her. He is going to America, anyway. Take this card, Carol, so you won't forget whom you invited. It's a sticker — very useful.

[Zolotov seated me again in his big chair, poured more wine into the glasses, and offered a glass to the next "city representative" standing beside him.]

Next? Okay, ready? Please make a pledge.

Woman: I promise that I will work honestly and sincerely to do my best in whatever job I'm doing — in getting maximum results.

Zolotov: And now, the kiss [she kissed the prince]. And now, she'll pick the person she invites to her house. Again? The same man!

[Each of the stickers, it turned out, was printed with a picture of a mugging Zolotov in various costumes — fireman, king, at the beach, trench coat...]

Next, please.

Another woman: I give my word not to harm anybody and to protect the innocent.

Zolotov: Pick a card...

Everyone who wished to do so was invited to come up and make a pledge. At some point, Zolotov changed the ritual so that, instead of each pledger drinking the wine and kissing the prince, the prince took the wine into his mouth and transferred it to the pledger's mouth when they kissed — amid much hilarity and drippy chins. If the pledger was a man, the prince's wife did the honors.

An hour later, Zolotov concluded the night's seminar — his birthday celebration — by having the group gather around me and sing a welcoming song. This was followed by a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday," in English, for Zolotov.

His parting comment to the group was, "The most important thing is not to hurry. We are not too late to live our lives. We have to live fully and enjoy ourselves, so do not hurry." And he strode out of the hall.

So, was I transformed? Yes. My celebration of life was deepened by this night of joy and exuberance, Russian-style.