by Dan Millman
Grandpa Abe died when I was four years old.
My grandma, whom we called Babu, didn’t tell stories. But she made the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and was an expert at cleaning behind my five-year-old ears. I remember Babu fondly, as an old white-haired woman who wore flowered dresses.
When I grew up and went away to college, I didn’t see Babu much until the early 1970s, when I moved back to southern California for a time. She was about eighty years old then, mostly bedridden, and her eyesight was failing, so I read to her from one of my various works in progress.
One Sunday I decided to read her an early draft of this book compiled in part from a journal that Socrates had given to me with some details about his life. Since the story took place in Russia, in the old country, I thought that Babu might enjoy it. As I began, I wasn’t at all sure that she was paying much attention—that is, until I first said the name Sergei Ivanov. Hearing that name, Babu leaned forward, and her clouded eyes opened wide.
“Are you okay, Babu?” I asked.
“Yes, yes—go on,” she said, staring into space.
The name Sergei Ivanov is not uncommon in Russia, so I thought she might have known someone by that name.
It wasn’t until I spoke of the boy, Konstantin, that Babu held up her hand and interrupted me. “Stop right there!” she said.
I had never heard her speak so emphatically before. But it wasn’t just her voice that got my attention. It was the tears filling her old eyes. Wiping them gently with a tissue, Babu began telling me about her early years, and the story of her life…
What she told me revealed more than I could ever have hoped for or imagined about family secrets, and my heritage.
WHILE ON BOARD their steamship to America, Konstantin met a well-dressed French-Canadian émigré. The man, a Monsieur Goguet, owned a fashion design company. After studying several of Konstantin’s sketches, Goguet offered him a job on the spot, making illustrations in the company catalog.
So directly after they arrived in New York, Konstantin and Paulina emigrated to Toronto, where they rented a small flat.
Paulina eventually gave birth to two daughters. In 1916 their family journeyed across Canada to Vancouver, British Columbia, and from there they finally moved to the west coast of the United States.
As for Sergei, he traveled on foot, by horse, and by train for several years, and his occasional letters to Valeria and Andreas bore postmarks from places across America. Later he made contact with one of the masters he had met in the Pamir and was called back across the sea on an urgent mission. All correspondence ceased for an extended time.
In 1918, after Valeria passed away, Andreas managed to get his family out of Communist Russia just before the iron curtain closed. Then, as happened to so many immigrant families, everyone lost touch.
Sergei eventually returned to America and settled in Oakland, California, a mere five hundred miles from his daughter, although neither of them knew the other’s whereabouts.
Sometimes he thought he saw Paulina in a crowded marketplace and almost called out her name. He often wondered where she was and how she and Konstantin were faring. He would have been glad to know that Paulina and her husband were doing well, devoted to their family and future. But their daughters never learned more than the most sketchy details of the past. Paulina would not speak of it, and Konstantin honored his wife’s wishes.
However, the story doesn’t end there.
Years earlier, when Paulina and Konstantin had first emigrated, Konstantin was asked to state his name. Since he didn’t have a last name, he decided to take a new name for a new country. The only one that came to mind was Abram Chudominsky, the author of his first and favorite book. When they entered the new country, the clerk at immigration wrote it down as Abraham Chudom. So it was done, and Paulina took his new last name and changed her first name to Pauline.
Pauline and Abraham had named their two daughters Vivian and Edith. Both girls grew to adulthood in southern California. One of those daughters, Vivian, married a good man named Herman Millman, with whom she had two children—a daughter named Diane and a son named Daniel…
Not until my grandmother Babu, whose legal name was Pauline Chudom, told me her story—from the time she grew up in the camp of Dmitri Zakolyev to her motherhood in a new land—did I grasp the hardships, heartbreak, and eventual triumph that shaped my grandmother’s life.
So it was that my great-grandfather, Sergei Ivanov, whom my mother had never known, became my mentor, when we eventually met in 1967 in Berkeley, California.
Now I understand why he smiled that night that I impulsively chose to call him Socrates, after the Greek sage so admired by my great-great-grandfather Heschel Rabinowitz and his beautiful daughter, Natalia.
MYGREAT-GRANDFATHER Sergei Ivanov, known to me as Socrates, was a resourceful man—more than I ever could have realized. Those of you who have read Way of the Peaceful Warrior may recall that in 1968 Socrates told me, “I’ve been watching you for years.” A few years after that, when I first opened his journal, I noticed that his first entry was dated February 22, 1946—the exact date of my birth, twenty-two years before we ever met.
During our time together, Socrates never revealed our family relationship—maybe for the same reason he chose not to intrude in (my grandmother) Paulina’s life or that of her family. Nor did his journal notes make that final connection. I had to learn the truth from Babu herself, who told me that she had written once to Valeria many years before, to inform her about their new names, their whereabouts, and their children.
Babu had briefly met and exchanged a few words with Sergei only one other time—at my grandfather Abraham’s (Konstantin’s) funeral. Later, when I searched my earliest memories, an image came to me: I was only four years old then, standing next to my mother and fidgeting in my dark suit. As they lowered the casket bearing Grandpa Abe’s body, my mother started to cry.
I looked up and around at the faces of the people gathered there and noticed a white-haired man looking right at me. He seemed somehow different from the other people there. He looked right at me and nodded before he faded back into the other faces and was gone.
I now realize that Socrates knew of my birth and chose to begin writing his journal on that day so that he might someday share it with me. That same journal, along with the story of Babu’s life, enabled me to share his story, their story, with you.
I believe that my great-grandfather Sergei Ivanov had watched over me all those years like a guardian angel, waiting for the right time. Socrates was good at waiting. He had learned patience many years before, on his many odysseys, on his long journeys to the light.
Late one night, in the predawn hours,
an ageless white-haired man sits quietly outside an old Texaco station
leaning his chair back against the wall.
He owns the station and works the night shift.
His name is Sergei Ivanov.
Dan Millman, a young college athlete,
is walking home when he stops
and, on impulse, approaches the station office.
He’s not sure why he does this—
maybe to get a soft drink or late-night snack…
Socrates smiles to himself through half-closed eyelids.
He is here. It begins. The final chapter.
The torch is passed in:
Way of the Peaceful Warrior
Acknowledgments
NO ONE is smarter than all of us. Many people past and present helped bring this book to life. Many writers, philosophers, and mentors served as way stations on my odyssey.
Candice Fuhrman, my literary agent, first told me to write “the book about Socrates” and guided the project from the beginning.
In the early stages of development, Sierra Prasada Millman, Joy Millman, and Nancy Grimley Carleton all provided invaluable editorial feedback from first to final draft. My daughter’s editorial analysis of the first draft enabled me to see the story with
fresh eyes, to reshape the narrative, and to make that literary leap to the next level.
Publisher Stephen Hanselman acquired the book in an act of faith, generosity, daring, and uncanny good taste. Gideon Weil, my capable editor, provided skill and support at every level of the publishing process. With the rest of the outstanding HarperSanFrancisco team of Jeff Hobbs, Sam Barry, Linda Wollenberger, Claudia Boutote, Margery Buchanan, Terri Leonard, Priscilla Stuckey, Mickey Maudlin, Mark Tauber, Jim Warner, Anne Connolly, and JulieRae Mitchell, Gideon took the book from manuscript to finished form and out into the world.
Special thanks to Terry Lamb for his beautiful cover artistry.
John Giduck, founder of the Russian Martial Arts Training Center in Golden, Colorado, gave generously of his time and expertise, providing detailed research notes and invaluable suggestions about both Russian culture and martial arts.
The Russian System Guidebook, written by Vladimir Vasiliev, one of the world’s foremost teachers of the Russian Martial Art, served as a rich resource. And special thanks to Valerie Vasiliev, who, while caring for her family and performing innumerable other tasks, answered many questions that helped establish authenticity related to Russian traditions.
Other experts in their respective fields who helped me keep my facts straight include Rowan Beach, Elissa Bemporad, PhD; David E. Fishman, professor of Jewish history at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America; Lawrence H. Officer, professor of economics at the University of Illinois at Chicago; Professor Harlan Stelmach and Mary K. Lespier, Humanities Department, Dominican University of California; Four Arrows (Don Trent Jacobs), professor at Northern Arizona University and Fielding Graduate Institute; William Harris, MD; David Galland, MD; Father Vladimir of the Holy Trinity Russian Orthodox Church, Toronto, Canada; and Joe Cochrane of the North Bay Cooperative Library System. Any errors of fact are mine, not theirs.
Thanks also to early manuscript readers Douglas Childers, Linda and Hal Kramer, and Sharon and Charles Root for their insight, candor, and encouragement.
Each of my daughters (in birth order)—Holly, Sierra, and China—has contributed, in ways both practical and mysterious, to my creative endeavors and reminded me about the important things.
My wife and guardian angel, Joy, for three decades has renewed and enriched my life through her loving support and practical wisdom. Always my first and final reader, she offers sage advice that helps me improve both my writing and my life.
Finally, I want to acknowledge the loving sacrifices and generosity of spirit provided by my late parents, Herman and Vivian Millman, which made possible all that has followed, and my grandparents, Pauline and Abraham Chudom, and Rose and Harry Millman, all émigrés from Ukraine, on whose courage their families relied, on whose labors we depended, and on whose shoulders we now stand.
For information ahout Dan Millman’s work:
www.danmillman.com
About the Author
DAN MILLMAN, a former world-champion athlete, college professor, and martial arts instructor, has inspired millions of readers in twenty-eight languages. His books include Way of the Peaceful Warrior, Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior, and The Life You Were Born to Live. He has taught at numerous writers conferences and currently travels worldwide presenting Peaceful Warrior seminars to people from all walks of life. Visit the author online at www.PeacefulWarrior.com.
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Books by Dan Millman
THE PEACEFUL WARRIOR SAGA
The Journeys of Socrates
Way of the Peaceful Warrior
Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior
GUIDEBOOKS
The Life You Were Born to Live
Everyday Enlightenment
No Ordinary Moments
Living on Purpose
The Laws of Spirit
Body Mind Mastery
INSPIRATION
Divine Interventions
FOR CHILDREN
Secret of the Peaceful Warrior
Quest for the Crystal Castle
Credits
Cover illustration: Terry Lamb
Copyright
THE JOURNEYS OF SOCRATES. Copyright © 2005 by Dan Millman. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © MARCH 2005 ISBN: 9780061841514
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Millman, Dan.
The journeys of Socrates / Dan Millman.—1st ed.
p. cm.
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