(The Art of Dreaming by Carlos Castaneda)
“There is one last issue related to that world that we haven’t discussed,” he said.
He paused for a long while, as if searching for the appropriate words.
“In the final analysis,” he began, “my aversion to the old sorcerers’ activities is very personal. As a nagual, I detest what they did. They cowardly sought refuge in the inorganic beings’ world. They argued that in a predatorial universe, poised to rip us apart, the only possible haven for us is in that realm.”
“Why did they believe that?” I asked.
“Because it’s true,” he said. “Since the inorganic beings can’t lie, the sales pitch of the dreaming emissary is all true. That world can give us shelter and prolong our awareness for nearly an eternity.”
“The emissary’s sales pitch, even if it’s the truth, has no appeal to me,” I said.
“Do you mean you will chance a road that might rip you apart?” he asked with a note of bewilderment in his voice.
I assured don Juan that I did not want the inorganic beings’ world no matter what advantages it offered. My statement seemed to please him to no end.
“You are ready then for one final statement about that world. The most dreadful statement I can make,” he said, and tried to smile but did not quite make it.
Don Juan searched in my eyes, I suppose for a glimmer agreement or comprehension. He was silent for a moment.
“The energy necessary to move the assemblage points of sorcerers comes from the realm of inorganic beings,” he said, as if he were hurrying to get it over with.
My heart nearly stopped. I felt a vertigo and had to stomp my feet on the ground not to faint.
“This is the truth,” don Juan went on, “and the legacy of the old sorcerers to us. They have us pinned down to this day. This is the reason I don’t like them. I resent having to dip into one source alone. Personally, I refuse to do it. And I have tried to steer you away from it. But with no success, because something pulls you to that world, like a magnet.”
I understood don Juan better than I could have thought. Journeying to that world had always meant to me, at an energetic level, a boost of dark energy. I had even thought of it in those terms, long before don Juan voiced his statement.
“What can we do about it?” I asked.
“We can’t have dealings with them,” he answered, “and yet we can’t stay away from them. My solution has been to take their energy but not give in to their influence. This is known as the ultimate stalking. It is done by sustaining the unbending intent of freedom, even though no sorcerer knows what freedom really is.”
“Can you explain to me, don Juan, why sorcerers have to take energy from the realm of inorganic beings?”
“There is no other viable energy for sorcerers. In order to maneuver the assemblage point in the manner they do, sorcerers need an inordinate amount of energy.”
I reminded him of his own statement: that a redeployment of energy is necessary in order to do dreaming.
“That is correct,” he replied. “To start dreaming sorcerers need to redefine their premises and save their energy, but that redefining is valid only to have the necessary energy to set up dreaming. To fly into other realms, to see energy, to forge the energy body, et cetera, et cetera, is another matter. For those maneuvers, sorcerers need loads of dark, alien energy.”
“But how do they take it from the inorganic beings’ world?”
“By the mere act of going to that world. All the sorcerers of our line have to do this. However, none of us is idiotic enough to do what you’ve done. But this is because none of us has your proclivities.”
Don Juan sent me home to ponder what he had revealed to me. I had endless questions, but he did not want to hear any of them.
“All the questions you have, you can answer yourself,” he said as he waved good-bye to me.