“It is getting dark. The world is very strange at this time of the day. We are very noticeable here and something is coming to us. It may seem to be wind to you, because wind is all you know. Here it comes. Look how it is searching for us. It’s something that hides in the wind and looks like a whorl, a cloud, a mist, a face that twirls around. It moves in a specific direction. It either tumbles or it twirls. A hunter must know all that in order to move correctly.
To believe that the world is only as you think it is, is stupid. The world is a mysterious place. Especially in the twilight. This can follow us. It can make us tired or it might even kill us. At this time of the day, in the twilight, there is no wind. At this time there is only power.
If you would live out here in the wilderness you would know that during the twilight the wind becomes power. A hunter that is worth his salt knows that, and acts accordingly. He uses the twilight and that power hidden in the wind. If it is convenient to him, the hunter hides from the power by covering himself and remaining motionless until the twilight is gone and the power has sealed him into its protection.
The protection of the power seals you like in a cocoon. A hunter can stay out in the open and no puma or coyote or slimy bug could bother him. A mountain lion could come up to the hunters nose and sniff him, and if the hunter does not move, the lion would leave. I can guarantee you that.
If the hunter, on the other hand, wants to be noticed all he has to do is to stand on a hilltop at the time of the twilight and the power will nag him and seek him all night. Therefore, if a hunter wants to travel at night or if he wants to be kept awake he must make himself available to the wind.”
Journey to Ixtlan Carlos Castaneda
“Therein lies the secret of great hunters. To be available and unavailable at the precise turn of the road.
You must learn to become deliberately available and unavailable. As your life goes now, you are unwittingly available at all times. To be unavailable does not mean to hide or to be secretive but to be inaccessible. It makes no difference to hide if everyone knows that you are hiding.
We are fools, all of us, and you cannot be different. At one time in my life I, like you, made myself available over and over again until there was nothing of me left for anything except perhaps crying. And that I did, just like yourself.
You must take yourself away. You must retrieve yourself from the middle of the road. Your whole being is there, thus it is of no use to hide; you would only imagine that you are hidden. Being in the middle of the road means that everyone passing by watches your comings and goings.
The art of a hunter is to become inaccessible. To be inaccessible means that you touch the world around you sparingly. You don’t expose yourself to the power of the wind unless it is mandatory. You don’t use and squeeze people until they have shriveled to nothing, especially the people you love.
To be unavailable means that you deliberately avoid exhausting yourself and others. It means that you are not hungry and desperate.
A hunter knows he will lure game into his traps over and over again, so he doesn’t worry. To worry is to become accessible, unwittingly accessible. And once you worry you cling to anything out of desperation; and once you cling you are bound to get exhausted or to exhaust whoever or whatever you are clinging to.
I’ve told you already that to be inaccessible does not mean to hide or to be secretive. It doesn’t mean that you cannot deal with people either. A hunter uses his world sparingly and with tenderness regardless of whether the world might be things, or plants, or animals, or people, or power. A hunter deals intimately with his world and yet he is inaccessible to that same world. He is inaccessible because he’s not squeezing his world out of shape. He taps it lightly, stays for as long as he needs to, and then swiftly moves away leaving hardly a mark.”
‘Journey to Ixtlan’ by Carlos Castaneda
A warrior hesitates by means of strategic necessity ~ knowing that he must retain his awareness through sobriety and detachment – in order to regain his balance and to determine his direction ~ a warrior considers the path with heart…
“Every one of us has an energetic fissure, an energetic crack below the navel. That crack, which sorcerers call the gap, is closed when a man is in his prime.
Normally, all that is discernible to the sorcerer’s eye is a tenuous discoloration in the otherwise whitish glow of the luminous sphere. But when a man is close to dying, that gap becomes quite apparent.”
Don Juan Matus ~ The Active side of Infinity (Carlos Castaneda)
“Dreaming is the vehicle that brings dreamers to this world,” the emissary said, “and everything sorcerers know about dreaming was taught to them by us. Our world is connected to yours by a door called dreams. We know how to go through that door, but men don’t. They have to learn it.”
I have just been away camping, I hiked about 50 miles from Aviemore to Breamar, in the Scottish Highlands. While I was away, I camped one night by a Loch and took magic mushrooms (humito). I didn’t ingest a great deal as I didn’t take much with me. However it was prepared right; kept in a gourd for a couple of months to dry out and mixed with other herbs including Mary Jane. As I sat by the Loch with a fire blazing away, I smoked part of the mixture and ingested the rest. I felt the effects almost immediately, it wasn’t strong but there was a power in its subtlety. I stared at the moon hoping the trip would intensify. Suddenly in the clouds there appeared a message of sorts. I saw clearly emerging in the clouds the face of Terence McKenna. It was the typical image of Terence that we are familiar with. He had said before his death in the year 2000: “I’ll be around” – I presumed this was an indication of his presence. But the face then morphed into the face of Buddha. Things then got particularly funky. The cumulus lit up by the light of the moon turned into the enormous shape of a lotus seated Buddha. It seemed to move swaying and became alive. Then Quetzalcoatl, in the form of the Feathered Serpent from above came swooping in swallowing the whole scene as he went…devouring the Buddha.
My trips into the wilds are a Vision Quest, led and inspired by the wish for silent knowledge and a revealing from the spirit. So I was delighted to receive such a vision.
To me the interpretation was clear. The first part is a personal reference and an answer to a question I often wonder about Terence – in a sense; “did he make it?” And by that I mean did he burn with the fire from within and attain liberation – I know now he did. It was also a validation of the knowledge which was revealed during his lifetime. But the second part is a telling of the impending return of Quetzalcoatl and the devouring of the Earth.
This is the second time I have had a vision of Quetzalcoatl – the first was during dreaming and Quetzalcoatl was in the form of a man. Quetzalcoatl is the Feathered Serpent worshiped in many of the MesoAmerican cultures. He was born of a virgin, who had an appearance from the god ‘Onteol’ in a dream. He is associated with “the morning star” and his name also means: “lord of the star of the dawn.” He was also known to have been incarnated as a Toltec king, who is set to return; Quetzalcoatl is said to be the ruler of the coming Age of the fifth Son.
I am not yet fully aware of the implications of the Buddha, but I believe this Vision means Quetzalcoatl’s impending arrival is imminent. We will be caused to see the greatest increase of change and outpouring of energy and spirit this planet has ever seen. And of course this outpouring will continue to produce a massive increase in novelty; just as Terence McKenna suggested in his theory of timewave zero.
Recently I was in a dream state. My dream had quite ordinary beginnings but escalated to something quite elaborate…It started in the normal way, but I believe I must have found my hands as the dreaming became more vivid and I was able after a while to move from one dreaming location to another quite happily.
The dream was in Technicolor as I remember – everything was enormously bright coloured and seemed very textured. It gave me a real sense of well-being and peace and the further I got into the dream the more this increased. It was like the scenario from a film with different scenes and a plot that I had to navigate through.
Anyhow so finally I got to this point in this dream where I was in the lounge of a huge Ocean liner, have you ever seen the Poseidon Adventure? The speed at which I was popping round to these different locations increased to the point where it all collapsed. Suddenly I was recalled from this magnificent dream that was building in intensity and I found myself and the TV
I was watching in this ship’s lounge transported to an entirely different location from the rest of the dream. And much like waking in brilliant sunlight I was standing in on a river bank. I remember reeds and the TV from the ship floating off down river and sinking. My attention was reluctantly taken away from the TV as I was given the instruction to turn round at which point I did. As I turned I saw a village by the river a little up-stream, natives were sat around by huts on the river bank. Immediately I was in the water and running through the shallows up the river – a friend of mine I told this to suggested samurai style – which is quite descriptive.
I reached the village, I could now see the villagers clearly and I found myself compelled to run faster towards where they were. Suddenly out of one of the huts rushed a man. He had red skin and turned his head slightly to the left as he came rushing out of the hut so that I could see the shape of his head, which was unusual. He was definitely an Indian and wore a brilliantly coloured head-dress and was obviously the chief. I almost recognized him then – he ran towards me in a most unusual manner – like walking at an optimum speed. He was dressed in red robes and when I got close and saw all this, I found myself crying out “LORD” “LORD” at this point again I heard the voice of the dreaming emissary telling me to “go on”….At which I fell to my stomach and sort of crawled/slid across the ground to his feet. I saw his feet which were sandal-ed; unusual as with odd socks. I was at his feet and kissed his sandal-ed foot which he held out to me. At that moment I saw the villagers faces who in a rather nonchalant manner observed the whole scene.