Tag Archives: Carlos Castaneda

A Day in a Life: Intent—Uh-oh, It Really Works!

Be careful in the shaman's world! What may look enticingly beautiful could be deadly if not used cautiously and knowledgeably. - Photo of datura by Jan Ketchel
Be careful in the shaman’s world!
What may look enticingly beautiful could be deadly if not used cautiously and knowledgeably.
– Photo of datura by Jan Ketchel

The Shamans of Ancient Mexico suggest that we state our intent and then let it go, that we send out a call to intent and then let the energy of intent find us, letting it bring us what we need or take us where we need to go. Sometimes our call to intent may be innocently misguided and then we can get into trouble, but if we are working on our personal growth in a sober and balanced manner we tend to be cautious and careful as we tread into unknown territory. It doesn’t pay to be inflated or foolhardy in the shaman’s world; there is too much out there that is eager to hook us and hook into us, desirous of our tasty energy. And so, when setting intent, it is best to be stably prepared for what may come.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve written about entities in my blogs, beings who seem to have come into my dream world for a reason. They’ve been absent for a week, at least I’ve had no recall of them. In fact, I’ve had little or no dream recall at all for the past week. As a result, last night, I decided to use intent to both dream and to remember what transpired in my dreams. To enhance the experience I decided to sleep with Carlos Castaneda’s book, The Art of Dreaming, on top of me. I lay in bed on my back, placed the book over my lower abdomen, and set the intent to absorb the contents of the book, to dream, and to remember what had transpired upon awakening. Perhaps it was a lot to ask.

I got the idea for the experiment from a conversation Chuck and I were having. He remembered that this was how Carlos would read books. He’d lay them all over his body as he slept and when he woke up he’d know the entire contents of the books he’d slept with. Chuck also recently read that Edgar Cayce, the American mystic and medical intuitive had done the same thing. “Yes,” I said, “I remember that’s how he read the Bible when he was a little kid. He became quite an expert interpreter of the Bible at a young age. He’d absorbed the entire book, but also the deeper meaning as well.” This gave me the idea to try it myself, mostly to see what would happen, if I would have an experience.

I already know that Carlos’s books are imbued with the intent of the Shamans of Ancient Mexico; he said this often enough. If you pick one up you are sure to be taken on a ride! The Magical Passes are imbued with that same intent too, not the least of them the Magical Pass of the Recapitulation Breath. This I am personally well aware of, as I discovered during my recapitulation. Once I began the journey, the entire universe seemed to be there with me, fully present, involved in my life 24/7. It was quite a thrilling ride! In just picking up a book about those shamans a strange and wonderful energy flows into the reader, absorbed through the words on the pages of the books, imbued with ancient intent. So, electing to place a Castaneda book over my abdomen had the potential to produce something!

Entities are everywhere, just waiting to hook in! - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Entities are everywhere,
just waiting to hook in!
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

I had actually placed the book on top of the covers, telling Chuck that if it fell off me during the night, perhaps he’d have an experience as well. “Okay,” he said, clearly curious. And then I drifted off to sleep. Within seconds I was startled awake by the faces of entities, black, gnarly, weathered faces, treelike, intricately carved, as if they had lived for thousands of years. “No,” I said, reasserting my intent as soon as I saw them. “Not you guys,” I said, dismissing them. “I want to have dreams!”

I fell into deep sleep. I also fell into a dreaming intensity that I have never experienced. I woke with a start after three hours of tumbling around inside nonstop dreams that were grippingly engaging. As soon as I woke up, I could not recall a thing, but boy were they intense! I decided it was enough, perhaps too much, and besides the book, which had slipped to my left thigh, was now burning my skin. Heat like I had never felt before was burning through two heavy quilts right into the skin of my thigh, which felt red hot! “I’d better stop,” I thought, and I put the book aside and fell into heavy, deep and dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.

Upon awakening, I told Chuck of what had transpired. It was a mysterious and thrilling experience, but I’m a careful treader into the unknown, and so I intend to go slowly into dreaming with intent. I do have to say though, that I woke up with great energy, more energy than I’ve had in a long time. So, something imbued in that book affected me while I slept. I’m curious to read it again and see what it might be, what might stand out. Perhaps it’s just the energy of the Shamans of Ancient Mexico as they intend it to be experienced, and if so, that’s fine with me!

On the other hand, I do know that my entities appeared for the first time in a week—those gnarly tree faces—and I abruptly dismissed them. Perhaps that gave them license to play with me a little. Maybe they were the ones who took me on a ride last night, proving to me just how much power they really have! I know they are in my life for a reason, and that I’ll have to continue my excursions into the unknown with them as my companions, for better or worse; for the time being we belong together. Whatever really transpired, it was just the right energetic experience I needed, and I’m thankful for that!

On the ride,
Jan

A Day in a Life: There’s Weird Energy Out There

Cold energy entered the room… - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Cold energy entered the room…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

Here is an account of what happened to me last week: I’m sitting in a yoga class, in sweet pose, a comfortable meditation pose. I intend to keep my energy to myself, innerly calm and protected. I don’t want to be affected by outside energy and so I do not turn my palms up but keep them face down. I do not wish to receive from without but only to hold sacred space within.

Placing my hands palms down on my knees, in chin mudra, with thumb and forefinger together, I think about entities, that they are everywhere. I am not interested in engaging them. Within seconds of silently declaring this intent, I feel a burst of cold air sweeping past me on the right, as if a window has suddenly sprung open. Swirling around, it hovers nearby, a strange sort of mini tornado. In the next second, cold energy hovers over my right hand, as if someone has placed a cool wet hand over mine. The sensation lasts at least 30 seconds, perhaps longer.

I have time to consider that perhaps the teacher has gotten up and is walking around the room, that he is doing some kind of energy work, but even so the rush of cold air that I’m feeling seems impossible to be made by anyone walking past, and I very much doubt that his energy would feel so cold. This energy has an otherworldly feel to it. I peek at the teacher just to be sure. He is sitting calmly in front of the class, eyes closed. Obviously he has not moved. Then I think: “It’s an entity. There’s an entity in the room.” And I am certain that it has come to convey the truth of my own insinuation, that there are indeed entities everywhere. It pays to be careful.

That night I dreamed. In the beginning of the dream, I am at an art gallery opening. The room is crowded. I slowly weave my way through the crowds, avoiding contact. I do not want to engage anyone. Seamlessly, I flow like water through the room and out the door. Once outside, I’m glad that I did so well at protecting myself from outside energy. Now I have to cross a stream. The water is fairly deep. I look down and see that four men, each dressed the same and looking remarkably alike, are lying in the water. They form a log-like bridge for me to walk across. I don’t want to go near them, for I am aware that they are entities, but at the same time I know I must cross the stream.

“Come on,” they say, “cross over. You have to.”

“I don’t want to step on you,” I say, concerned. “I’ll hurt you.”

“No you won’t,” they say. “Just do it!”

And so I do. I run as fast and as lightly as possible, still worried, however, that I might hurt them or that I might be infected by their energy. As soon as I get to the other side of the stream they immediately hop out of the water and surround me, standing in the four directions—North, South, East and West—facing me.

“I don’t want entities attached to me,” I boldly say.

“You need us,” they say. “You have to encounter us and you have to engage us. We are your entities, and you can’t get away from the fact that we exist.”

“You won’t advance until you accept us,” they say. “You won’t get anywhere without us.”

Like water I intend to keep flowing… - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Like water I intend to keep flowing…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

I know I must acquiesce, for I know the truth of what they say. I am fully aware that everything that is placed before me must be encountered and dealt with, that indeed, I need it in order to advance. I am aware, as I dream, that these four beings will be with me now, my very own entities. I am aware that I must learn about them, who they are and how they operate. I must befriend them and make them my allies, as don Juan Matus discussed with Carlos Castaneda. I must utilize them to my advantage.

I am struck, as I awaken from this dream, how my intent to avoid contact with outside energy—both in my yoga class and in my dream—has resulted in my being presented with exactly what I was trying to avoid. There is great meaning in that. I am also struck by the fact that my entities, inorganic beings, as the Shamans of Ancient Mexico call them, all look exactly alike. And why are there four of them? I surmise that this is part of their teaching methods, tricksters that they are. I expect to be fooled by them until I no longer need to be.

Carlos Castaneda, in The Art of Dreaming, describes his own encounters with inorganic beings. Don Juan tells him he must make friends with them. “They have singled you out themselves,” don Juan says. “When they do that, it means that they seek an association. I’ve mentioned to you that sorceress form bonds of friendship with them.”

Don Juan goes on to explain that a friendship “consists of a mutual exchange of energy. The inorganic beings supply their high awareness, and sorcerers supply their heightened awareness and high energy. The positive result is an even exchange. The negative one is dependency on both sides.”

I am already aware of this exchange of energy. In fact, as I mentioned, I was not interested in engaging in such an exchange. In fact, I have always sought to avoid it. But now I understand that my inorganic beings have come to help me. If I am to advance, I know I must engage them. But I also fully intend to not become dependent. Even in my dream, I was aware that our association will be temporary, only as long as is necessary. I don’t know if that’s possible, or how it will come about, but that is my intent, for I fully anticipate moving on, advancing, which they also implied would happen if I engaged them. But perhaps they were only tricking me. I’ll have to wait to find out!

Watery beings are given more to excesses,” don Juan tells Carlos, as he explains the two kinds of inorganic beings, water and fire. “The old sorcerers believed that they were more loving, more capable of imitating, or perhaps even having feelings. As opposed to fiery ones, who were thought to be more serious, more contained than the others, but also more pompous.”

From this description, I know that my four inorganic beings are water energy. This makes perfect sense to me, as I am a water sign, and because my own energy has always been watery, flowing for the most part, just like I did in my dream as I flowed out of the gallery. But water, though capable of gently simmering, is also capable of great force and power. And so I am both cautious and intrigued.

What does your inorganic being look and feel like? You never know!- Photo by Jan Ketchel
What does your inorganic being look and feel like?
You never know!
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

When Carlos asks the meaning of his own two entities, don Juan replies: “The meaning is too vast to discuss at this time. My recommendation is that you vanquish fear from your dreams and from your life, in order to safeguard your unity.” He tells him that he himself refused the inorganic beings, because he did not want to be at the mercy of any entity, organic or inorganic. He tells Carlos that his inorganic being wants his energy and he warns: “It will come to you for more.”

From this exchange, I intuit the necessity of remaining independent, to maintain my unity, my wholeness. But I must also learn how best to use these four watery energies for my advancement. The fact that they all look alike, capable of imitating, as don Juan tells Carlos, is going to be quite a challenge. I see that already. In fact, i believe they entered the yoga studio, invited in by my first challenge, my intent to avoid them. They saw an opening and they took it. “Be extremely careful,” don Juan tells Carlos, and that is exactly what I intend to be: Extremely careful!

Alert to what may come next,
Jan

Quotes from: The Art of Dreaming by Carlos Castaneda, pp 52-55.

Chuck’s Place: The Secret Of Secrets

Let your intent shine through the burdens of unconscious intent... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Let your intent shine through the burdens of unconscious intent…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

“Saying something aloud is mysterious and magical… The loud and clear voicing of your intent is the secret of secrets. Do it… Assume responsibility to stand in front of the boundless. It isn’t weak; it doesn’t respond to supplication…” -Carlos Castaneda, December 1993, from a lecture at The Phoenix Bookstore in Los Angeles, California.

The Shamans of Ancient Mexico contend that we are magical beings. Our magic is to manifest ourselves through stating our intent. It is true that we feel stuck and weighed down in our lives by burdens outside of our control. The Shamans of Ancient Mexico acknowledge this fixation but explain that we find ourselves so burdened because we’ve yet to consciously assume responsibility for our true intent.

We enter this world with a powerful set of inherited programs, what Carl Jung identified as the collective unconscious. The social systems—family and culture—heavily influence which programs become activated, whereby shaping the intent we have manifested in the creation of ourselves.

We internalize the tactical commands of our socialization and repeat them through our internal dialogue, dialogue that daily reconstructs the familiar burdened self that we feel so encrusted in. This is our intent unconsciously manifested.

The Shamans of Ancient Mexico recommend that we carefully examine the repetitious patterns of our lives as a first step towards assuming responsibility for our link to our true intent. Unless we can begin to disrupt the commands we give our intent unconsciously, through our internal dialogue, we will not be in a position to state a clear unambiguous, non-contradictory intent.

Finally, Carlos advises that the greater intent of the universe does not respond to supplication, that is, to begging. We must be firm and definite, stating our intent out loud, with true conviction. Do this daily to continuously renew the link to intent, stating it loudly and boldly, while simultaneously observing and discarding the old intents of the molting self. Then we should go on with our lives, knowing that our intent will be realized, in its own time, in its own way.

All together now—The Secret of Secrets—INTENT!

Chuck

Chuck’s Place: Being Of No Importance

Still looking back? - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Still looking back? – Photo by Jan Ketchel

Don Juan Matus told Carlos Castaneda that the view of human beings is frozen, fixated out the back window of the caboose of a train that is moving forward into oncoming time. Humans are not free to face life as it approaches, like the engineer who drives the engine car, but instead see only the rails of life already lived.

This fixated view is the product of our self-importance, which reigns supreme over our ability to assimilate and interpret reality as it funnels all events through the filter of “me,” thus depriving us of the fuller view of life, as it truly is, in real time. The sorcerers of don Juan’s lineage strove relentlessly to become beings of no importance; mindful shamans, fully present to life unfolding, in the engine car of life.

The shamans place no blame on humans for their narcissistic predicament, in fact, removing judgment is the primary mechanism to freeing all events from being rendered as a reflection of self. For example, I’m standing on line at a store, calmly waiting my turn to go to the register. Up walks a being who cuts the line and proceeds to the cashier. I see red. I’m offended, in fact I’m incensed! Who do they think they are? Do they think they’re special, that I don’t matter! It’s not fair; we all had to wait. This person must be stopped, confronted.

No one is saying anything, though obviously everyone has noticed. I’ll be the hero! I won’t allow my self-importance, my value, my significance to be undermined or negated. Not again. Not like when I was a powerless child. Why do I have to be the one to stand up? Why is it always me that has to take the risks and maybe get hurt? Am I afraid I’ll be hurt? Will my voice crack? Will sound come out if I open my mouth? Am I supposed to turn the other cheek? Isn’t that just a copout? Is it okay to be angry? Is someone noticing that I’m nervous? Etc., etc., etc.

LET ME OUT OF THE CABOOSE!!!

This is an example of the incessant internal dialogue of “me” that reports and constantly gauges all events in terms of my self-worth, self-importance, self-esteem, etc. If I, on the contrary, feel worthless, then the dialogue switches from offense to pity, and a stream of comments that construct and reinforce my inferior self spew out. Perhaps I’ll realize, as I stand on that checkout line, that I don’t have the right to exist and hence have no right to complain about any injustice perpetrated upon me. Either way, “me” is the common denominator of the internal dialogue. Feeling unimportant is equally attached to “me.” It’s still all about “me,” however diminished that “me” may feel.

Now that's more like it! - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Now that’s more like it! – Photo by Jan Ketchel

Being of no importance is being mindfully present, without obligation to change, fix, or defend anything. Without importance there is no offense. How can I be offended if I have no importance to uphold? I might choose to act or not to act when standing on that checkout line, but my criteria for action will not be to defend offense to myself. I might indeed challenge the perpetrator, but won’t be offended by the outcome of my challenge—it simply doesn’t matter. There’s no self-importance to defend. I am not attached to the outcome; in no way is it a reflection on me. The mirror of self-refelction no longer mars my view when I lose my importance.

As a being of no importance, I cherish and have gratitude for all who might offend me. You give me the gift of breaking the mirror of my self-refelction, as I break through my attachment to being offended by you. So thank you! Through your gift, I further unburden myself of the weight of “me,” too cumbersome to carry on my journey through infinity. I’m ready to hop out of the caboose and move up to the engine car. Deep gratitude for helping me to lighten my load and to clarify the view—the view of a being of no importance facing oncoming time. And quite a clear view it is!

Figuring it out at the checkout line,
Chuck

A Day in a Life: Through Portals & Wormholes

The portal presents itself... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
The portal presents itself… – Photo by Jan Ketchel

“We just went through a portal,” I said to Chuck, after an unusual weekend about a month ago when everything seemed strange and different, when we’d lost all energy and all we could do was lie around in a daze, moaning about our inertia. Suddenly, everything became clear. “This is just what we asked for!” I said. “This is exactly what we need!”

Indeed, we had set the intent to shift. With spring on the horizon and so much left undone, it was time to rev up and face the truth: we were bored. We were suffering from the winter blues. Boredom became our catalyst, but there was something even deeper that was stirring, our spirits calling out to us from beyond the veils of everyday life, calling us to keep going, to not forget that we are beings who are going to die.

Make this time in this world extraordinary,” Carlos Castaneda said to his audience on August 7, 1995 at a workshop in Culver City, California. “Make this time in this world extraordinary.” Such simple and yet such provocative words! What more could we need to jolt us back into truly living!

Just what was it that had gotten us into such a bored state to begin with? The answer is: “The encumbering weight of Me,” wise words also spoken by Castaneda at that same workshop. “We have let something win by default and we will never actualize our possibilities,” he went on to say. “It’s worthwhile to get rid of this encumbering weight.”

And so began a great unencumbering. Weighed down by all we carry within, recapitulation was the necessary and effective antidote. In the weeks that followed our portal weekend, the portal itself seemed to narrow. Holding us in its tight embrace, we faced what we needed to face. Such were the inner workings of our intent to shift, while on the outside our lives flowed along, the energy of our intent and the honed energy of being in the portal keeping us focused and alert. Suddenly it was time to shift again.

"Make this time in this world extraordinary." - Photo by Jan Ketchel
“Make this time in this world extraordinary.” – Photo by Jan Ketchel

We spent the weekend in Manhattan. Quickly planned for, almost spur of the moment, we arranged for a couple of key events. The rest of our time there was spent on the Upper West Side, in the dream that is New York City, in the vastness of energy that only a big city can provide. We entered the flow of that energy for the time we were there. By the time we were heading home on Sunday night, our energy had honed to accomplish the return. With little attachment, we left the city and all of our experiences behind. We entered the next dream. Chuck drove us out of the city and then I took over the wheel. My intent now was to seamlessly flow northward along the energy lines that led back to Red Hook where we live. The empty Taconic Parkway stretched before me. We were the only car on the road.

I made the decision to speed up. I have a perfect driving record. I’ve never gotten a ticket, not even a parking ticket. Well, maybe one $10 parking ticket back when I lived in Brooklyn in 1983. I thought St. Patrick’s Day was a federal holiday, and so I decided not to put a coin in the meter. It was only a ten cent fee, and something told me to do it anyway, but I didn’t. When I came back to my car there was a ticket stuck to the windshield. But on Sunday night there was no uncomfortable feeling to accompany my decision.

“I don’t want to get a speeding ticket, but I just cannot let this opportunity go by,” I thought. “There’s no one on the road. This could be fun!” And so I sped up, not enough to risk being pulled over, but certainly enough to enjoy the ride, the thrill of the open road.

After a while, I noticed my mind starting to wander, thoughts of the weekend seeping in, one dream overlapping another. I had to stay focused. “Okay,” I said to myself. “You are in a new dream. You have to wake up and stay awake in this dream.” And so I dreamed within my dream. I entered a video game dream, with the intent to maneuver past all obstacles. Keeping my attention honed, I played to perfection. Following the narrow beam of the headlights, I sped along, into the ever-narrowing portal of the night.

The next morning arrived, the intent of my video game dream still operative as we began our week with a similar intent: to flow seamlessly and without distraction, to make each moment important and fruitful, to, as Castaneda said, “Make this time in this world extraordinary!”

Time to pop out of the video game dream... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Time to pop out of the video game dream… – Photo by Jan Ketchel

The week progressed. Energy and attention honed to work. By the middle of the week I began to feel as if I were in a vise; my energy felt like it was being squeezed out of me. “Oh my God, I never left the video game; I’m still driving down the Taconic!” I thought. “I have to wake myself up and dream a new dream!”

With that intent, a new dream began. Instantly things shifted. I felt myself pop right out of the video game and land with a plop, my energy released, my mind suddenly clear. “I just escaped the wormhole I’ve been in all week,” I said to Chuck. “You were there too! We were dreaming the same dream. We were stuck on the Taconic, still driving in my video game dream. Welcome to our new dream!”

And what is the new dream? Well, it’s really pretty simple. It’s just what Carlos Castaneda said to his audience that day in Culver City: “Make this time in this world extraordinary!” Keep dreaming a new dream. Set the intent and let it happen. It really works!

Dreaming all the time,
Jan