Carlos Castaneda’s Don Juan’s Teachings

The mystery, or the secret, of the sorcerers’ explanation is that it deals with unfolding the wings of perception.

The nagual by itself is of no use, it has to be tempered by the tonal . The sorcerers’ secret in using the nagual is in our perception.

There’s no way to get to the sorcerers’ explanation unless one has willingly used the nagual , or rather, unless one has willingly used the tonal to make sense out of one’s actions in the nagual . Another way of making all this clear is to say that the view of the tonal must prevail if one is going to use the nagual the way sorcerers do.

Order in our perception is the exclusive realm of the tonal ; only there can our actions have a sequence; only there are they like stairways where one can count the steps. There is nothing of that sort in the nagual . Therefore, the view of the tonal is a tool, and as such it is not only the best tool but the only one we’ve got.

This is the sorcerers’ explanation. The nagual is the unspeakable. All the possible feelings and beings and selves float in it like barges, peaceful, unaltered, forever. Then the glue of life binds some of them together.

When the glue of life binds those feelings together a being is created, a being that loses the sense of its true nature and becomes blinded by the glare and clamor of the area where beings hover, the tonal . The tonal is where all the unified organization exists. A being pops into the tonal once the force of life has bound all the needed feelings together.

I said to you that the tonal begins at birth and ends at death; I said that because I know that as soon as the force of life leaves the body all those single awarenesses disintegrate and go back again to where they came from, the nagual .

What a warrior does in journeying into the unknown is very much like dying, except that his cluster of single feelings do not disintegrate but expand a bit without losing their togetherness. At death, however, they sink deeply and move independently as if they had never been a unit.

There is no way to refer to the unknown, one can only witness it. The sorcerers’ explanation says that each of us has a center from which the nagual can be witnessed, the will . A warrior can venture into the nagual and let his cluster arrange and rearrange itself in any way possible.

I have called that cluster the bubble of perception. I have also said that it is sealed, closed tightly, and that it never opens until the moment of our death. Yet it could be made to open. Sorcerers have obviously learned that secret, and although not all of them arrive at the totality of themselves, they know about the possibility of it. They know that the bubble opens only when one plunges into the nagual .

The secret of the double is in the bubble of perception. The cluster of feelings can be made to assemble instantly anywhere. In other words, one can perceive the here and the there at once.

You are a nameless cluster of feelings. There is another center of assemblage, the will , through which it is possible to judge or assess and use the extraordinary effects of the nagual . One can reflect the nagual through the will , although one can never explain it.

The conviction that there is a real you is a result of the fact that you have rallied everything you’ve got around your reason . At this point your reason admits that the nagual is the indescribable, not because the evidence has convinced it, but because it is safe to admit that. Your reason is on safe ground, all the elements of the tonal are on its side.

To make reason feel safe is always the task of the teacher. The teacher tricks the apprentice’s reason into believing that the tonal is accountable and predictable. I have labored to give you the impression that only the nagual is beyond the scope of explanation; the proof that the tricking was successful is that at this moment it seems to you that there is still a core that you can claim as your own, your reason . That’s a mirage. Your precious reason is only a center of assemblage, a mirror that reflects something which is outside of it.

The last piece of the sorcerers’ explanation says that reason is merely reflecting an outside order, and that reason knows nothing about that order; it cannot explain it, in the same way it cannot explain the nagual . Reason can only witness the effects of the tonal , but never ever could it understand it, or unravel it. The very fact that we are thinking and talking points out an order that we follow without ever knowing how we do that, or what the order is.

Sorcerers say that through the will they can witness the effects of the nagual . I can add now that through reason , no matter what we do with it, or how we do it, we are merely witnessing the effects of the tonal . In both cases there is no hope, ever, to understand or to explain what it is that we are witnessing.

The wings of perception can take us to the most recondite confines of the nagual or to inconceivable worlds of the tonal .

The tonal of every one of us is but a reflection of that indescribable unknown filled with order; the nagual of every one of us is but a reflection of that indescribable void that contains everything.

You have nothing except the force of your life that binds that cluster of feelings. Turn off your internal dialogue; gather the power needed to unfold the wings of your perception and fly to that infinitude.

You need nothing except impeccability. What really matters is being an impeccable warrior. Your only chance is your impeccability. You must wait without regrets. You must wait without expecting rewards. If you don’t act impeccably, if you begin to fret and get impatient and desperate, you’ll be cut down mercilessly by the sharpshooters from the unknown.

If, on the other hand, your impeccability and personal power are such that you are capable of fulfilling your task, you will then achieve the promise of power. And what’s that promise? you ask. It is a promise that power makes to men as luminous beings. Each warrior has a different fate, so there is no way of telling what that promise will be for you.

You have learned that the backbone of a warrior is to be humble and efficient. You have learned to act without expecting anything in return. Now I tell you that in order to withstand what lies ahead of you beyond this day, you’ll need your ultimate forbearance.

A warrior must be always ready. The fate of all of us here has been to know that we are the prisoners of power. No one knows why us in particular, but what a great fortune. We are all alone, that’s our condition. We are alone. But to die alone is not to die in loneliness. What a wonderful thing it is to be in this beautiful world! In this marvelous time!

A warrior acknowledges his pain but he doesn’t indulge in it. Thus the mood of a warrior who enters into the unknown is not one of sadness; on the contrary, he’s joyful because he feels humbled by his great fortune, confident that his spirit is impeccable, and above all, fully aware of his efficiency. A warrior’s joyfulness comes from having accepted his fate, and from having truthfully assessed what lies ahead of him.

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I am going to disclose to you a warrior’s secret. Perhaps you can call it a warrior’s predilection. The life of a warrior cannot possibly be cold and lonely and without feelings because it is based on his affection, his devotion, his dedication to his beloved. And who, you ask, is his beloved? I will show you now.

His love is the world. He embraces this enormous earth. The earth knows that he loves it and it bestows on him its care. That’s why his life is filled to the brim and his state, wherever he’ll be, will be plentiful. He roams on the paths of his love and, wherever he is, he is complete.

This is the predilection of a warrior. This earth, this world. For a warrior there can be no greater love. Only if one loves this earth with unbending passion can one release one’s sadness. A warrior is always joyful because his love is unalterable and his beloved, the earth, embraces him and bestows upon him inconceivable gifts. The sadness belongs only to those who hate the very thing that gives shelter to their beings.