Yesterday was an important day for Cholita, so I took her shopping.
I was worried she was about to flee to Seattle, where she believes she can shake the government hackers who are trying to erase her life.
Along the way to Los Angeles, she showed me the proof. A bunch of new electrical towers along the freeway, carrying dozens of lines instead of the traditional few.
That was the proof. She turned to me and said, “And I KNOW who you are! Do you think I’m that naïve?!”
While looking at the clock to determine her schizophrenic “cycle time”, measured by distance between excessive giggling and angry shouting (5-15 minutes), I talked to her about the possibility of teaching her to change worlds. Maybe that would help her.
She said, “THAT’S WHERE I ALREADY AM!! DON’T YOU KNOW THAT??? IT’S THE SAME AS YOU. I’M LIVING IN A DREAM.”
Fortunately for me, she’d decided not to flee that day. She might remain around me a few more days.
She let me know that I owed her for it. She was, “A woman of great substance.”
I got a lecture on that later, while sipping cocktails with her. Cholita’s face was just 8 inches from mine the whole time. She looked really angry, but her lips were somewhat pouty at the same time. And she was sporting her very short hair, died perfectly black, and still in the same style Carlos insisted on 21 years ago.
I couldn’t help but stare into her eyes while she chastised me for neglecting a woman of great substance. She'd crossed her legs on the bar stool such that they emphasized her curvy hips.
She knew I was staring. I’m autistic. We don’t look people in the eyes unless social conditions require a quick glance. We see things others don’t see when we look at faces.
But under special circumstances, staring at someone’s eyes can be quite pleasant.
While staring at her I said, out loud, "Thank you Carlos."
She giggled. We've discussed that before, and Cholita agrees. Carlos pushed us together.
I suspect that being a woman of great substance means something if you’re from the upper class in Mexico City, with a father who builds bridges for the government.
Still I couldn’t understand it myself. It just seemed like unnecessary conflict. I tried to explain that to her, but she said I was an idiot and didn’t understand anything.
Yes, I said I took her shopping. I don’t know if impeccable warriors go shopping. But former Sunday class members do.
And women are women. Especially witches.
I’m all for shopping, because afterwards is dining and drinking. Cholita is so crazy that it’s only nice to be with her when she’s drunk.
Ok, that’s an excuse. Getting women drunk is a favorite pastime of some Stormtroopers. It’s also fun to go shopping, if they open the dressing room door occasionally.
And with smart phones video recorders in hand, twice the fun.
No, she said I couldn't post any pictures.
But I had to ask.
I suspect that “Warriors” just hide their excesses better than Stormtroopers. And Cholita can prove that with her memories of private classes.
On the way to her favorite mall, located in Los Angeles very near to all the Sunday Class action, I asked Cholita to tell me more stories.
Again, women are women. They love to tell you about their life.
But the fun thing is, if you have a westerly dreamer in front of you, who was tinkered on by Carlos, every story is useful. And each story can actually move your assemblage point, if you’re silent.
Carlos told us, sorcerers are story tellers. I believe there’s a lot more to that than it seems.
I had to catch myself and stop that movement of my assemblage point on occasion during her stories, just to make sure we didn’t drive off the freeway into a ditch. It was the same sensation as when Cholita's luminous shell lit up for me the first time. A tingling from the feet to the head, and the sensation of floating away.
It would scare the hell out of a non-sorcerer. But you can get used to it, and it's rather pleasant.
She corrected my understanding of many things with her stories. It seems, I have a very “male” view of sorcery. Cholita doesn’t.
Not only did she tell me the story of how a Catholic school nun accused her of stealing candy in elementary school, and how she came out on top in the end, but she also told me everything she could remember about Sunday Classes.
Unfortunately, my memory is not very good when it comes to Cholita’s stories. There’s just too many to remember.
One of the most remarkable things about Cholita is that she loves to talk, and has an amazing memory for social events.
If Carlos was going to plan to give me an assistant, to help put the group back together again, he couldn't have made a better choice than Cholita.
He bound us together, and now if I don't take her to live with me, she'll die.
If she lives through this, she'll make a very good scout for all of us.
I'm starting to realize that a "scout", a term Carlos often used, must be someone who looks in other directions and tells you what's there. While you're going down one path, she wants to go down another.
Insists actually. If I'm in Los Angeles with Cholita, I'm guaranteed to end up in the most remote places, looking closely at random things. Even in places we aren't supposed to go.
After she recounted the 100th person who attended private classes, and we both couldn’t believe we’d forgotten so many, I begged her to let me record her voice. So that I could write down what she remembers.
She said yes!
As it turns out, women are women. They like to surprise you with “yes”, even when it seems slightly offensive.
It’s what they love to do. They dole out energy to men, often as slowly as possible. It keeps the association going. It’s a lot like the behavior of inorganic beings, which are said to be mostly female.
Or the behavior of the Nagual Julian, when controlling his allies.
I believe that our messed up social order and oppressive internal dialogues are a result of that interaction between women and men.
It could be the fliers. But I don’t think so. Just look to your parents to understand.
One question I asked her was, “Who did you kiss from Sunday Classes?”
Her first answer was, “OOHHHHH, NOOO ONE!!!!”
Her voice became very high and stilted, as if she were speaking through a tube.
She sounded like I imagine Zuleica’s parrot voice must have.
The thought occurred to me that the human voice changes when a person is half asleep. And it’s difficult to talk when fully asleep.
I know, I’ve done it. It came out like Genaro's sleeping voice.
Maybe Zuleica was fully asleep, while she instructed Carlos on dreaming, using her parrot like voice.
Cholita thought about her previous answer a little more and said, “Kiss??? Well… Let me think…”
Out came a list of the most handsome men floating around Carlos while he was still here. Including what were their best features. A whole list of new men she hadn't mentioned before.
It seemed to be a list of who she'd liked to have kissed, but only one of them seemed like a possible candidate.
He's fat now. Cholita kept tabs. She doesn't like fat men.
Somewhere along the line there was also discussion of competition between private class women, for the available men. Women who were powerful in the inner circle, even competed with each other for Carlos’ attention.
Women who had no conflict with anyone else, and were loved by all, became enemies in private classes.
The men she remembered included regular workshop attendees, audio equipment set-up men, Sunday class members, and people from all over the world who only came to a workshop a few times.
Some managed to help with the workshop management details, but still never got invited to private classes.
Cholita didn’t know why.
I was surprised how many were from Argentina.
I asked her why and she said, “Because. Just look at them! They’re super white. It’s all about power, and the white people get special considerations. The Argentinians are really Italian you know.”
Oddly, I remembered most of the people she mentioned.
And I also remembered Carlos’ fondness for Argentinians. It was something about their incredible height (Carlos was very short), and their manner of dress. Maybe their boots came up a time or two.
Miles and Aeron seem to be teaching in Argentina now. I was never clear on whether they were originally from there. It’s hard to keep Cholita on topic.
But maybe that’s why there were so many Argentinians.
Cholita isn’t politically correct. She doesn’t have to be. She isn’t what you would call, “white”. So she gets a free pass.
She’s half pure South American Indian. Her father was from a very handsome race with rounded heads, slightly larger noses, and very full lips. She told me the tribe, and that her father could still speak that dialect.
Unfortunately, I have poor knowledge of indigenous Mexican populations and can’t remember the name she told me.
Angry politics in this country has made it impossible to ask about such things. In fact, it’s probably offensive even to say “tribe”.
It’s part of the internal dialogue imposed on us, to create phony conflicts which keep the mind imprisoned.
We balance it out with cute kitten videos, to recharge for the next angry rant.
The other half of Cholita is Spanish. Think 1960s Spanish movie stars with long wavy hair, and pouty red lips. Usually they look a little angry and defiant, but they’re after what all women want.
Like Cholita.
She showed me pictures of famous Spanish language movie stars, and said that her mother looked exactly like that.
I was very interested in what Cholita had to tell me about her life before Carlos, because I couldn’t figure out how she got into private classes. As it turned out later, it was Carlos at his best, engaging in the ruthlessness and cunning aspects of stalking.
I asked her if maybe that didn't happen with most of the Sunday class members.
Eventually she came to the conclusion, that we should try to figure out how ALL of the people in Carlos’ private classes got there.
I told her, if we don’t, no one else will be able to do it.
And maybe there’s something significant in how it all went down.
At the end of the dinner, when Cholita picked up her "extra" drink, I warned her.
Whatever you tell me will be read about 1000 years from now. People will still find Carlos' books, and then what I posted here about it.
She sipped noisily on her "refreshing drink", custom designed by a handsome bar tender who was fully warned about Cholita, and bribed generously.
She didn't stop until there was only ice left in the bottom, seeming to ponder what she might want to leave out of her stories.
Continued later.
Edited: twice to add details about "scouts". Just conjecture however.
92 Comments
I remember the "coughing voice" of Silvio Manuel in the books, while he was deep in the second attention; especially when his left eye glowed in the darkness (I think it was the left).
Everybody remember this!
If anything stands a chance of lasting that long I guess it might be Reddit because of its sheer scope and complexity/diversity. As data storage capacities increase (eventually, but not as fast as CPU advances), archival costs will continue to go down. The library of congress and archive.org could really use some of that Sci-Fi quantum crystal storage that lasts for millennia. Make it a reality you engineers out there!
I've been fortunate enough so far that I occasionally get people asking if they can copy my posts to other websites. Even translate them.
No problem. It's not copyrighted.
Cholita even has a lot of written info from when she was in private classes.
Just to tease me, she reminded me of the "womb" series of passes that only the women got to learn.
She has notes on those.
It was said that women could get energy from their wombs, and that the earth was the supply.
I guess us males are really screwed when it comes to women. They have a pot of honey (energy) to lure us along.
But everything magical turns ordinary, and maybe even a little seedy, when you have our oppressive internal dialogue.
I warned Cholita that her abundant energy is likely from going without sex the prerequisite 7 years.
And if she found herself a young man to play with, she could lose it.
She said, "Why not, if it's the right man? It's worth it."
I find it amusing, but not surprising, that practitioners often are very secretive and private in their internet doings. No doubt they took erasing personal history to heart, perhaps a little too well. If we all shut-up about the things we discover and learn, the next generations will have a difficult time not making the same mistakes. There are billions of people out there posting pics of their dinners and selfies of their butts while they rehash their sexual exploits and dalliances. We need not be concerned. We're not terrorists, political, or polarizing. There's too much to be concerned with RIGHT NOW, for us to pop-up on anyone's radar.
Our tales of power are not personal histories, they're the stories of our interactions with infinity, not with the ego. It's the ego-tales that Castaneda warned about endlessly repeating. The traumas and the victories...which are one and the same and equally as meaningless.
Yea, that secretive thing is puzzling. I've reached out to a few former class members, based on getting a notification about some Carlos related inspirational quote posting they made.
I get no answer. Sometimes the place I saw on the net even gets taken down.
Possibilities: They don't believe it anymore, but find it inspiring. And they don't want kooks trying to drag them back into it.
Or, they want to give the impression they made it work and are sorcerers, and don't like anyone asking specifics.
Or, maybe they're too old.
Cholita's best friend in Cleargreen might or might not be dead. I mention that because only she knows how Cholita got selected.
And Carlos did go looking for people. Kylie was said to have come from a Ken Eagle Feather workshop.
As Cholita told stories about everyone she could remember, we constantly concluded some of them couldn't still be alive. They were already old while Carlos was here.
Edited: twice
Here's someone I just stumbled upon yesterday. Started his channel 2 years ago, and is still active currently. Looks to be a balanced fellow, free of new agey flowery language and fantasies:
The Nagual Zone - YouTube
He's now been poked.
Thats awfull lot of time considering humanity is destroying everything it turns to. But if humanity makes it that far i'd like to share my stormtrooper experience.
Sorcery is really genuine. There is nothing to learn - more like there is stuff to unlearn. We are controlled by internal dialogue that reflects on a superimposed social programming. Some programming is fine but we are so overloaded with the social programming language that our basic programming language is totally forgoten and lost. All that is needed are corner stones to give stormtroopers a sense of right direction. So stop pretending and dive deeper through silence.
Did i miss the target like a real stormtrooper?
Sounded good to me. And stormtroopers have endless bullets.
The superimposed social programming might be what Carlos called, "Syntactic Commands". A simple phrase like, "My Butt's too big", keeps you solidly glued to this world because it comes with a huge context (range of emanations you must light up in order to comprehend that).
Or as an example Cholita told me, "I can't wear those!"
It got someone the current day equivalent of $20,000 directly from Carlos, and they opened up a bakery.
Yea, I'm kind of puzzled by the feeling these days, that there's nothing to learn in sorcery. And maybe even, nothing matters.
Grabbing an inorganic being right out of it's own world, while remaining sitting on my bed, was the clincher. My hand seemed to be able to reach into any place it needed to go.
And it stuck around a bit after I let it go. It could be the source of the inorganic being I've dubbed, "Zoltar", because of his lifeless human looks.
I hope it isn't possible to strand them here, just by pulling on them.
I'd hate to have to figure out how to push it back.
Edited
My gut feeling tells me no, I have no justification why. The method of entry, pulling on it's dreaming body, may allow it an extended stay. A nagual (double-being) could possibly accomplish a more permanent stay though. Those inorganics probably utilized Elias and Amalia's own energy to pull them bodily into their realm.
Should definitely be in bold! But there are also skills, techniques and tips to learn that make it all more efficient and effective, the discovery of NEW (to us) realities that is. You could waste a lifetime trying to invent just a few on your own.
Cholita needs help today, so part 2 will have to wait.
I'm installing a big fountain in my backyard, hoping Cholita won't be able to resist living there.
She likes fountains.
Not so much me though.
You could use that water for sorcery. In particular that finger flicking technique. As well as that mirror submerged in water gazing (if I got that right).
Oh no!!!
If Cholita tries that technique, I'm hoping she'll pee on her fingers.
(Stormtrooper here)
😂
Hey, I wasn't joking. And I suspect whoever taught that flying technique to La Gorda also wasn't joking.
Just enjoying the view perhaps.
I just asked Cholita about learning the flying technique, once we get that fountain installed.
She didn't scream at me this time.
But halfway down the hall, leaving the hotel for a bigger room, she started giggling. Didn't stop for 5 minutes.
I know you weren't. But it still makes me giggle too!
I keep telling Cholita, after she gets a little better she could cash in like Cleargreen and Miles.
Why not?
Now I'm thinking, maybe a 5 level program where you have to pay at each level, but don't get to see her pee on her fingers until level 5.
And then only if she likes you.
Intermission part 1:
I had planned to finish relating the stories of private class events, which Cholita recited to me rapidly while driving down the 405 this week.
I’ve only managed to remember 9 of them, out of the 100 or more private class and workshop attendees she talked about.
I’ve got an audio recorder on order, so that next time I can keep it all.
Although, I’ll have to find a way to get Cholita interested in thinking about it that deeply again. Typically she’s good for a topic only once. Twice if I insist, and on the 3rd try she becomes angry.
I believe she’s scooping up energy as she remembers, and once she’s used that up it’s hard for her to repeat it. As she scoops up the energy she begins to giggle, and then laugh so loudly that she has to cover her mouth and lie on her side.
But when asked to repeat that the next day, to clear up some point, she’s solemn and wants to change the topic.
It’s possibly similar to what happens when you push the envelope, getting silent enough to make something wonderful happen, and then find the next day that you can’t do that again.
None of us has enough energy yet to repeat on demand. We need to find new positions of the assemblage point each time, to get that extra boost.
I had planned to finish the stories today. But Cholita, who I’m now thinking might more appropriately be called, “the dark scout”, had other plans.
She insisted I pick her up after work, and kept me out so late that I was limited to 4 hours of sleep.
Today I’ll just relate that event, because with so little sleep my memory of those stories may be defective.
But first, what is a “scout”? That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.
In his final days, Carlos seemed to be anxious to find “the orange scout”. According to Cholita, he never did. But some of the women around him were hoping to be selected. I can’t recall that story well, but Cholita’s account seemed to include women standing in front of him for examination, as if he might have missed her all along.
It was about the time rumors went around private classes that he was going to gather 200 women, to do tensegrity together.
I believe he only managed 50 before he gave up on that plan, or became too ill for the extra work load. He didn’t attend that event, where he’d put together 50.
He sent me and 2 other men, perhaps Felix and Corey. It’s been a long time so it’s hard to remember details.
Felix, Corey, and I formed some kind of group he occasionally made use of. And also, we seemed to pair up spontaneously.
Cholita remembered one such event. Carlos presented us with rusty steel balls, telling us to polish them by hand.
He rolled the ones he had in his hand for us, and commented how wonderful it would be, to have 2 such balls made from solid gold. The weight was what he was interested in.
That comment resulted in the private class members deciding to take up a collection, to actually make the balls for him.
Corey and Felix seemed to have taken the lead in that endeavor. After they managed to gather only half the money for the balls, they came to me and asked what to do.
I told them, why not just let me donate the rest?
Corey nodded his head yes, and commented in a quiet voice, that would work.
Out of fairness, I have to say that Cholita hates that accounting of the story. She was giggling happily while she reminded me of the gold balls, but when I explained how they gathered the money, she cycled to her angry mode.
She accused me of making up stuff. In her mind, it was a joint effort. She shouted, why did I always have to put myself in the middle of things?
Beats me. I just got stuck with the job. It’s sort of how I got into private classes in the first place.
But I’m meandering due to lack of sleep. What’s a scout?
Emilito was said to be a scout. From Carlos’ books:
“Don Juan said that Emilito was merely reporting about things he had witnessed in his journeys through eternity. The role of a courier was to travel ahead of the Nagual, like a scout in a military operation. Emilito went to the limits of the second attention, and whatever he witnessed he passed on to the others.”
We also have the blue scout from his books:
“The little girl seemed to understand my despair and actually communicated with me, directly into my thoughts. She told me, essentially, what don Juan had already said: that she was a scout caught in the webs of that world. Then she added that she had adopted the shape of a little girl because that shape was familiar to me and to her and that she needed my help as much as I needed hers.”
Carlos often used ideas from his books to give names to people in his inner circle. I got the impression he was trying to tie them to intent, and also motivate them by creating a persona they had to adhere to when interacting with workshop and private class attendees.
It was stalking.
We had a blue scout in private classes. It was the famous Patty Parton, who was found dead in the desert. It was never determined if she took her own life out of despair, or was just wandering off in the Panamint Dunes of Death Valley, looking for a way back to Carlos.
For those of you not familiar with Death Valley, all I know about it is that I was warned repeatedly by anthropologists from Carlos’ UC system, to never go there alone.
I was only 12, so they didn’t give me more details.
I vote for the latter explanation of Patty’s death. She just went too far.
In my mind, a scout is a trouble maker gone out of control, but in such a manner that you can’t ignore it, and end up actually being grateful for what they find.
You want to rest a bit, amidst all the activities required by sorcery. But they bring even more to handle.
And you can’t reign them in for whatever reason, so you just let them run wild. And that helps you perfect your own silence.
Cholita fits that description perfectly.
Not only does she plunge into anything that comes to her mind, now submerged halfway in dreaming, but she has an astounding memory for social events which took place in private classes and workshops.
Carlos couldn’t have given me a better person to protect, and to try to engage in shared dreaming, so that all of us could find out if that part of his books is also true.
It’s still up in the air whether Cholita will take her own life, or come to live with me. Or maybe find an old boyfriend to take her in, so she can escape captivity.
Last night she hit me on the arm, and held up her middle finger a few times.
She hasn’t done that before.
Maybe she’s warming up to me.
But as tired as she’s made me, she’s the best assistant I could find at this point.
It’s one thing for me to be able to enter waking dreams, but until two or more people can do it together, we’ll be missing proof for half the stories in Carlos’ books.
Continued next due to word limits.
Intermission part 2:
I guess new people reading this might be a little unhappy at all the chaos. The early books by Carlos seem so tidy and straight forward, and the idea of an impeccable warrior doesn’t seem to leave room for shenanigans.
But that’s not how it is, when dealing with apprentices.
Fortunately, we have Second Ring of Power to clue us in on the mess that apprentices can create. As I recall, there were even threats of murder in there.
Cholita hasn’t threatened to murder me for a few days, but typically she does that at least once a day. And she describes it as a bloody event that will take everyone down.
I've removed the knives from my home in anticipation.
Last night I picked Cholita up promptly after work. She was decked out in solid black. A tight fitting outfit with rumples and details all over it. Black boots to top it off. All together, she was wearing at least $1000 in clothes.
I was dazzled.
We drove to Old World Village, a cheesy German looking mall, with apartments above the stores. It’s famous for October Fest, being very popular with exotic dancers who like to drink beer and dance on tables.
Somewhere in the midst of that little town was a place called, “The Living Temple”.
We entered the parking lot to find a man who seemed to be signaling us to leave.
I stopped and asked him if the temple was located here.
He said, “Oh, the spiritual event?” Yes, just park anywhere.
I commented to Cholita that I wasn’t inclined to spirituality.
Cholita marched right in to the village without knowing where the event was located, and said, “OHHHHHH. HOW ADORABLE!!!!”
Although we had only 5 minutes left to get to the event, she began to examine every single detail of the German village, even talking to random people as if they were best friends who finally found each other again.
I was anxious to get her to the event on time. Carlos typically locked the doors when private classes started, and if you weren’t inside, you were out of luck.
We found the place 3 minutes late. There was a shop owner hawking essential oils, and a nervous looking man with something about ayahuasca printed on his t-shirt.
There were only 3 attendees. With Cholita and me, he now had 5.
I asked him about the ayahuasca, and whether you could try it in the states. Cholita’s mentioned wanting to try it on more than one occasion.
He said he didn’t know. I asked him if he’d like a giant jar of shrooms which I grew for a double woman. No one I know is interested in them.
He seemed embarrassed and said, “No, I don’t do that anymore.”
His lecture consisted of an assortment of weird topics. He admitted he’d put together the presentation only 30 minutes ago.
It was a series of youtube videos.
There was an impressive study of abductees, showing that the experience was positive for more than 80% of them.
Even when Lizard people abducted them. The implication seemed to be that the media, and people in general, were trying to cover it up by spreading fear.
There was an interesting presentation detailing evidence that the pyramids in Egypt were actually 36,000 years old, but had been re-carved at a much later date.
And there was an analysis of NHIs.
NHIs are inorganic beings. The “scientific” community has come up with that term as a general category. It means, "Non Human Intelligences"
I’m autistic. Get me around more than 2 people at a time, and I go out of control.
So I tried to explain all the NHIs and abductions as being the result of inorganic beings and sleep paralysis.
He wasn’t familiar with the topic. I tried to start at the beginning, but the frazzled looking other attendees obviously thought I was making up stuff.
Cholita told me to stop it, I was embarrassing her.
At one point in the lecture, Cholita started to laugh loudly. I’d been worried about that. She isn’t good for more than 15 minutes of coherence these days.
The lecturer asked her what was so funny. But she couldn’t speak amidst all the laughing. I had to pipe in.
She’s a witch I said. They do that.
Everyone seemed satisfied with that explanation, or maybe they were too freaked out to comment on it.
At one point in the lecture, I felt incredible energy in the air. My assemblage point started to shift, and I felt again as if I would float away. The familiar tingling I get around Cholita started at my toes this time, and trickled all the way to my head. I began to see emanations in the air.
It didn't seem to be Cholita's energy. I moved my hand to find some strands in the air. They were very solid. I wanted to see if I could trace where the energy was coming from.
Cholita, looking straight ahead, seemingly in such a position that it would be impossible for her to see my subtle hand movement, pushed her hand over to block me. I had to give up.
The Lecturer returned to explaining what he does for a living, and handing out pamphlets for other events he had, which cost money.
He nervously paced back and forth, seeming to be doing a little Tai Chi. His beautiful but frumpy dressed wife was sitting right near him. I got the impression she was there to prop him up, and promote him.
Some of the other attendees interacted with the group, making comments about their own “journeys”.
They all seemed to be a little damaged, but extremely polite and friendly.
The man’s wife explained, their goal was to spread love, and not fear. Too often she said, there’s nothing but fear and anger associated with new age things.
At the end of the lecture, she tried to hug us. I had to tell her, I don’t hug.
I suspect she was hoping to give us big hugs, so we’d come to her husband’s next event, where money was needed.
Cholita had lured me to that new age lecture event, with the promise of wine drinking afterwards.
But she found a Syrian restaurant in that German village, which had no liquor license. The owner made a sign of praying that he could get one, when I asked.
We sat on a couch eating inappropriate food, listening to odd music that sounded like someone was in pain, while I tried to enjoy Turkish coffee. Women wearing headdresses were staring at Cholita, in her tight black outfit, probably thinking what a whore she must be, going around with an older man.
Cholita decided she liked that place, and promised the owner to return.
Edited: three times
California is definitely more colorful than the Midwest!
That's because the adventurous ones from the Midwest all moved here, after watching that, "California Here we Come" episode of "I Love Lucy", back in the early 60s.
What did your intuition tell you was the likeliest source? Maybe it's the group of like-minded people mass-effect that Castaneda utilized to permanently alter some aspects of the intent of the Tensegrity of those ancient sorcerer's, who practiced in very different social environments.
The crazy guy leading the lecture. But maybe with his wife there propping him up.
I felt truly sorry for the guy. He was trying to make his assemblage point more flexible by studying every weird thing available. But he didn't have enough focus to actually get where he wanted to be.
I guess those people could combine to make some energetic mass. But still, the men need specific techniques and to work on them hard, and the women need someone around they can follow.
[deleted]
It's isn't a fatal situation.
Cholita did that for 30 years. And I can see the benefits it had on her.
But she's a lot like what I imagine Cleargreen people are these days.
She's been worked on by a master sorcerer, and she did the exercises he told her to do, as well as she could.
Trouble is, she didn't notice what she needed to notice.
Amidst the results was a tiny little sensation or voice, inviting her to go down that road. She didn't pay attention to it. I've asked her. She knows the sensations. But she didn't realize they were important.
Worse, all the other stuff she did came with bogus explanations, designed to sell books or more workshops.
That resulted in her being even more sure that the tiny sensation wasn't important. You can be absolutely certain, that a new age workshop is NOT going to emphasize the right things.
If they did, they'd lose their target audience, who would no longer be their slaves. They'd go out of business.
So the Zen master is always going to be a bastard who lords it over his students, with cryptic puzzles. He's not going to say, "Just shut the fuck up in your mind, and you don't need me anymore!"
Carlos did his job on Cholita, but she just didn't see it.
I can guarantee, Cholita is like a lioness. If she wants a prey, she's going to get it!
She just didn't perceive her prey.
I discovered the same thing with the people who post here, and practice a lot of meditation.
I was asked, "You mean when I can see the room with my eyes closed, that's heightened awareness???"
Of course it is! Drop everything and make that happen as much as you can!!!
But they thought it was just an interesting quirk of meditation, and not important.
At first, we can barely assemble new worlds. They assemble really crummy, like a bad hallucination. Or worse, like a dim TV picture behind incredibly dense fog.
But each time you focus on them, we assemble them better the next time, until they're so real you wonder how you missed that.
I kind of prefer physics to explain things. Our neural net consists of 100 billion neurons, each one with 10,000 connections to the rest of the neurons.
If a signal is sent down one of the connections, for example a red dot is in front of your eyeball, and one of the sensors in the eye sends the "red" signal, that little connection gets fatter. The pulse going down it makes it easier for future pulses to go there, because it stretches the little tube, to be fatter.
That ripples through the neural net.
So the first time you perceive something from the second attention, you've helped the neural net "learn" that.
And the next time, it's stronger. Easier. Brighter.
It's fine to have done too many things. There's probably no loss, and maybe even a gain.
But amidst all those thing, look for the passage out.
Edited
Dedicated recorders are great, and if you have a smartphone you can download an audio recording app in case you don't have it (the recorder) with you.
Cholita won't let me hold my smartphone too long, when she's running about.
I keep making videos of her antics.
I caught her laughing on video yesterday, but she stuck her hand up to the phone. So it was only a second.
For old folks who don't like smartphones, if you want to sneak pictures, just put it in video mode. Don't try to make stills.
Young women sneaking pics of men seem to already have learned that lesson.
I'm just a little slow.
Could you ask her if she remembers seeing
Jacobo
I already did. She wasn't coherent enough to answer it, and insisted I bring him up on her tablet so she could see his face.
Then she got distracted by his books and her memories of doing peyote in the desert.
I'm pretty sure the answer was no.
When I tried to explain why people were interested, she accused me of making up stuff.
¡Ay Cholita! To be fair in the absence of any reliable information or promising leads there are a lot of people making up stuff about him.
Cholita hates me. She says I stole her life when I rescued her from homelessness. She's most angry about needing me to do everything.
I got her a nice car, but she got into 3 accidents in just a few months.
So I had to take away driving privileges. I promised to get her a scooter, and she was anxious. But then she took to attacking strangers while we went out. So I had to cancel that promise.
At least, she hates me until she pulls her skimpy top aside and makes it pop on her breasts repeatedly, while she orders clothing shop keepers to go find a bra which makes her boobs look more perky.
I can't imagine what was going on with Carlos,with so many women around. But I can nearly guarantee, it wasn't his fault.
As men, women can give us energy, so we just have to put up with watching things such as Cholita showing off for me.
Since I haven't had sex for more than 20 years, it's not that hard to put up with Cholita. I get goosebumps these days, when it's time to go pick her up.
Edited: once
As when dealing with an inorganic being, show just enough interest to pacify her and keep her around, but not so much as to fall in headfirst and be consumed!
I'm autistic.
I always tell the truth, even when it's inappropriate.
Besides, the more interest I show, the less likely she is to seduce me all the way.
I've learned that in more than 20 years of celibacy. Play hard, and you won't get the girl. But it'll be a lot of fun.
I have a picture on my phone of 3 amazing women of age 22, getting their hair and nails done. One imported from Taiwan just for fun.
I show it to Cholita, when she insists I can't get any women.
But of course, I was just trying to gather women who wanted to learn sorcery. Each one a different energetic type.
It was a failed experiment, before I realize there's internet now. No reason to gather anyone.
They're all married now.
After the second time showing the picture to Cholita, when she insulted me as a hopeless looser no woman would want, she finally said, "Well, you can't get the one you want most."
Bingo!
There are some stories about Carlos experimenting before he created workshops. It seems like it happened the same way to him. Experiment failed.
But fun.
When was the last time you saw Jenna and the other girls? You did spend tons of time and money to get them into sorcery because, if I remember you telling me correctly, you could tell they have a ton of energy. I would like to know if, now that you are quiet while awake all the time, any of them can move your AP like Cholita.
I doubt it. Jenna could lend me energy, and also manifest her dreaming double so that I could observe and talk with it.
I still haven't given up on her. But she has a baby now, and there's no telling what that did to her energy.
The Chinese women are working on marriage. But next time I'm in Taipei, I might invite them up to our Chinese Bosses' mountain retreat, to see what's up with them.
Plus they're super beautiful and it's fun to drink with them.
Still Intermission. I haven't the time to take the 9 stories Cholita related, and write them up for a post.
But one more day with Cholita went by, so there's more to report.
Cholita knows she’s been pushing me, and causing me a serous lack of sleep. And that prevents my night gazing.
So she decided to give me a perfect day. It’s the first time she’s thought about me over herself.
We didn’t have to drive 100 miles to get dinner. She walked with me out of the Marriot Suites, across the street to the Korean mall, and up to the 3rd floor to get some Mexican food.
Cholita had fallen in love with that restaurant. It was something about the music.
To me, it looked like simple mariachi music. But I noticed that the band, which included one woman, was dressed more in Spanish style than typical ranchero mariachi style. They wore black with red lace trimming.
The music made her laugh uncontrollably. That’s what she was after, to remain in the happy stage, and avoid her angry phase.
I couldn’t figure out what was so funny about the music, because my Spanish has faded away. I learned it by memorizing 5,000 words.
That method of learning a language doesn’t last over time. You need to use it for months before it’s stable. I only got to try a few times with Cholita, because when you're new at a language, you need someone who will be patient with you. That's sort of hard to find.
I had memorized those words when Cholita was first given to me for protection, so I could converse with her on Catalina Island.
As expected, Cholita laughed so much that she had to cover her mouth, and lay on her side.
The waitress showed up and began to speak excitedly in Spanish to Cholita. She was a dazzlingly beautiful young Latina woman, with 2 inch long fingernails, each one decorated in black and silver in a slightly different style.
I wondered what was up with them talking like old friends, and the waitress explained that they had conversed like that the last time.
Usually Cholita hates the waitress when we go to dinner together. This one was an exception. Perhaps it was because she was blind to Cholita's odd behavior and random laughing.
Cholita asked about her medallion. The waitress offered her to hold it. The chain around her neck was long enough to allow her to share it with someone else, directly in their hand.
Cholita took it and commented that it was a specific saint, used for protection.
The waitress became embarrassed, and said quietly that it was very important to her and her family.
She looked so uncomfortable admitting it, that I just had to pipe in.
"This woman is a witch", I said. "So we don't judge medallions."
I was waiting for Cholita to give me an angry look, but instead she said, "There!"
The waitress smiled and went off to serve other people.
Later in the meal she shooshed the waitress, waving her hands to come here right away. She literally made a shoosing sound as she waved. She was using a waving motion we had learned in private classes, and which Cholita had seen me use in the car, trying to scoop up her energy. Normally she'd push my hand away if she caught me.
It seemed very rude to me to use that to summon a servant, but the waitress didn't seem to mind. She came running over.
Cholita informed me that she hadn’t tipped the waitress, the last time she ate there.
I gave her $10, and Cholita smiled at the waitress as if to say, see, I have a man.
When the food arrived Cholita started telling stories. She understands that I’m after stories for the most part.
But I don’t yet have my voice recorder! I pleaded with her not to tell me the story she was starting, unless she was willing to go back and tell it again later.
But she just kept telling it.
I grabbed my cell phone, brought up my grocery list, and started making notes.
At one point, while I was wondering if I needed to learn short hand, the absurdity of me taking notes became obvious.
It’s as if the books are a map, which repeats itself in different ways. There I was taking notes, worrying I wasn't fast enough to keep up, as Carlos had done around don Juan.
I also find myself with only me and Cholita, still active from the Sunday classes. It’s also like a repeat of the pattern from the books. Just one man and one woman, trying to create a new group.
Cholita’s story was missing too many details to get it right. So I’m bound to get it wrong. But it’s still good information to consider.
It seems that Carlos was drawing people for private classes from places where people were practicing under other “teachers”. And even where people typically traveled to try out peyote.
But don't take that as anything surprising. His followers were already traveling all over to such places, and even without having planned it that way, he was sure to become aware of possible recruits.
It was simply open season on apprentices, and his reach went far.
Continued due to word limits
Cholita seems to have been recruited from that place I wrote about a while back, up in the desert mountains of Mexico where wild peyote can be found.
That makes 2. Kylie was said to have been recruited from a Ken Eagle Feather workshop.
Myself, I was recruited because I became a little thorn in Carlos’ side with my Nagualist Newsletter. Kylie made a deal for me to stop it, and then I got invited to private classes. Another of the Chacmools even reminded me of it, after more than a year in private classes. She wanted to emphasize it to me.
That's why I didn't simply resume it, after Carlos' death. We had an agreement. Following intent requires me to honor it.
I’d love to find out how everyone else got recruited, but I suspect we’re years from being able to do that, if ever.
Cholita started her story by recalling someone she’d missed in her last account. Her name was Pamela, she was from New York, but had lived in Barcelona before. She was amazingly beautiful, and everyone loved her. Cholita said she had “good vibes”.
But she never made it into the private classes. She attended workshops, and Cholita took her into her apartment (or rented home, I’m not clear on that).
Cholita likes her privacy, so after a week or two she kicked her back out.
Pamela did in fact volunteer to cut her own hair, even without pressure from Carlos.
Cholita had to be blackmailed.
After cutting her hair, Pamela traveled to Caiaphas to swim in the sacred pools of water they have all over that place.
She mailed back a picture of her swimming naked in the sacred pool, and in the picture there were Fairy lights. Or orbs, as others call them.
Cholita explained, Jovannah was close to them also, and very much interested in “orbs”.
That phenomena came up at that lecture Cholita dragged me to at Old World Village. One participant at that lecture was heavily into orbs, and said they were "proof".
Of what, I don't know.
Being a stormtrooper, I asked Cholita the most important thing about that picture.
"You mean she was really naked in the picture???!!"
Yes, Cholita said.
I fancied that there might have been some hope on Pamela's part, that the picture made it's way back to Carlos. Sort of as a message.
But then again, as a stormtrooper I hoped that at least one man got to see the image. It didn't seem much use, passed around only between women.
Somehow the topic changed to Margarita, someone very close to the inner circle. I wasn’t sure of the relationship to this story, except that Margarita did travel to Mexico, in the process of securing Cholita for private classes. And Cholita lived with her for a while. Eventually Cholita got Margaritas dwelling, when Margarita upgraded to a house.
I believe I was invited to visit Margarita’s new home, and it was located on a hillside. I was impressed with the outdoor fireplace and little paths you could climb, to get up the hill. It looked like a perfect refuge for sorcery practice in the middle of a crowded city.
I could be wrong on those details. That did happen, but with my autistic face blindness I’m lucky to know who I’m around, from one month to the next. I’ll rely on Cholita for that.
Cholita started to ask me questions. It seemed that she was testing to see if I’d gone mad, or could really do the things I’ve learned to do.
I took that as a chance to get her interested in becoming my partner, to try to salvage as many people from the workshop period as possible.
While explaining intending and will to her, I brought up the movie that someone here had mentioned.
Cholita instantly knew the movie. It was “Somewhere in Time”.
I told her that humans sense their magic side, and long for it. So they create movies like that, where a man falls in love with someone he can't possibly have, but finds his way to her using intent alone.
Cholita said that the movie had a great impact on her.
I asked her if she knew that time was malleable, and it was possible to go back and view the doings of past sorcerers.
She didn’t get it, so I showed her by pointing to the amazing clouds overhead, and asking her if she didn’t feel while looking into infinity, that we can summon things with our intent?
The air became heavy with energy, and I got that tingle up my body as before. Cholita began to laugh again.
I was now surrounded by lines of dark and light, flowing out from her and into the air, as if they were reaching to the clouds.
I explained to her that I was able to travel far into the second attention, the way Emilito had done. And that I wanted to teach her to do it, so we could verify that part of Carlos’ books.
Shared dreaming.
Cholita became angry. She asked me, “Why would I want to get trapped in some sulfur smelling world you made on your filthy bedroom walls?”
She said she likes it here.
The odd thing was, just 30 minutes before that she was explaining how she lives in hell and is trying to escape.
I tried to explain how wonderful it felt to be in heightened awareness, but Cholita had lost interest in the conversation.
So I told her that it seems, Cleargreen did indeed split into 2 parts, as I had expected from observing Carlos interact with them in private classes.
Cholita agreed. She had expected the same thing.
I had to tell her, I’m sorry to report that neither side seems to be able to stop the world and assemble other worlds. They're still in the realm of doubt and pretending.
But that together, we could put pressure on everyone to work harder, and make some real progress.
To that end, I had set up a little paradise in my backyard, where Cholita and I could test La Gorda’s flying technique around the fountain.
She looked at me, wondering if I had in fact gone nuts as she presumed. But she didn’t seem certain of it.
I told her that once she could do that, we could learn to summon entities for seances. Entities participants could really see.
Then she could cash in too, like Cleargreen and Miles have done. I explained that I’m not allowed to get any money from trying to save Carlos’ techniques, but that rule didn’t apply to her.
She had every right to teach, and especially so if she had pieces of the puzzle to show, which were beyond explaining.
That’s what the community needed, some magical proof.
A dreaming teacher. That's what everyone really wants. And one as crazy and powerful as Josefina to boot.
Cholita lifted up her head and said, “Ohhh, I’m a gonna cash in!!! You can be sure of that.”
True to her word for the first time, Cholita gave me a day of rest. She didn’t insist I drive her all over, following the meal. And she gave me until 4PM the next day, to be away from her.
I immediately resumed gazing in darkness and found, I hadn’t lost anything from hanging out with Cholita. Instead, everything was different, and far more stable.
I couldn’t find my fairy, but Zoltar had become a bit more interesting, manifesting flat faces that don’t change, and flurries of light which land anywhere I’ve been making energetic movements in the air. His flurries of light were bright and soothing, not like Carlos' allies.
I sat up on some pillows and tried to stop the world. I saw a yellow circle with a darker ring in the middle, spinning around very very slowly. I became so silent that I blanked out.
I came back to consciousness staring at the perfect dreaming scene. It was as bright and colorful as the real world, and nothing changed when I looked at it.
I wondered if my eyes were open or close, and found they had been closed. But when I opened them, I could still see the scene.
I don’t know when the transition occurred, but I found myself in the garden, with Cholita. There was a group of people gathered around the fountain.
I recognized them as being from one of the worlds I can assemble. They love water.
Cholita put her fist on top of my hand and smiled.
Usually she jumps a mile away and starts flailing her hands, if we accidentally touch.
Edited
I'm too upset over Cholita fleeing to Seattle this morning (or not, I haven't found out yet), so I'll have to delay finishing her stories.
I could also find her dead in her hotel room, when I go to pay at checkout time. She was asking me about what's written of heaven, just before we drove her back to her room.
She added another since the ones I haven't gotten around to. A very fancy sushi restaurant where the Nagual used to eat.
Cholita claims it was so exclusive, you had to get an invite just to eat there, and if you made any bad comments on the food, you might be dis-invited.
Here are my notes. I'm not as good of a note taker as Carlos must have been, because I can't make much sense of them. But they're important, because Carlos was engaging in stalking, by letting some people in on his favorite haunts. The notes:
Train house. Top end sushi. Margarite used to go. So did the Nagual. Very expensive. You had to know someone. If you had a bad attitude, you could be banned.
Yay!
She didn't kill herself. Just left nearly all of her luggage in the hotel suite, took the backpack, and god only knows how she got to the train station, 40 miles away. Possibly she flirted up a random man headed that way.
"Scouts" are a lot of trouble. But she's doing what she's supposed to: exploring.
[removed]
She claims to have gotten tired of Seattle already, and will get on the next train.
Might I suggest setting her up with the Uber app, or maybe Lyft (cars have a magnetic "cute" pink mustache). She shouldn't have to remember any passwords once it's setup, just simple touchscreen buttons and voice input if she wants. She can then do some errands during the day when you're at work, and can explore and chat up random people etc. May make her feel a bit less disempowered transportation-wise.
A scout needs her wings. And it would give you more time for dreaming-awake practice at night.
I'll look into it, but likely she'll just head for Beverly Hills everyday, and not come home each time.
She's supposed to get on an airplane in a few hours. I booked her the flight.
Last time she didn't show.
On the other hand, amidst all the troubles, she might have taught me to see energy bodies in full sunlight.
I'm not sure yet. But it seems headed that way.
Once you see Cholita's luminous shell and the fibers stretching out, you can recall that creepy view and find it when silent. It becomes a shortcut to absolute silence.
The path is, get silent enough to see weird stuff, then through experience find the most drastic views, and see if there's a feeling associated with them.
Then get silent and remember that feeling.
The one I'm thinking of is a familiar feeling. I'm sure everyone here would remember it from childhood. Seeing at that level, because you're too innocent to realize it's different.
Carlos wrote that we all see all the time, and once you get there you realize you've been ignoring it on purpose.
I'll add that there are times in childhood when you didn't ignore it for a while, and got a full view of it.
I suspect they're associated with a fever or some other normal childhood illness. That pushes the assemblage point a little, and because the internal dialogue isn't yet overpowering, children see.
I don't know yet if the creepy feeling you find is a memory of an illness that allowed you to see it the last time, or whether the creepy feeling is what it's like to see a portion of "the nagual".
If you don't want a repeat of the events leading to her frequent escape/run away episodes she can't feel like she is trapped. That breeds anxiety and acting-out as a defense mechanism, making things needlessly strained between you.
Going places together has to be a choice, not an obligation.
I suspect it's more simple than that.
If she accumulates enough money to hop a plane or train, she will.
The mistake this time was giving her money for a special occasion.
That pushed her savings up high enough to skip town.
From what you've wrote of her, I firmly believe you just have to accept that she needs to "flee the coup" on a regular basis. She no doubt exhibited similar behavior with her 4 husbands (5 if you include yours). Just accept it and try your impeccable best to manage it in a way that offers some minimal safeguards without attempting to prevent it outright.
I’m trying to view it from the perspective of what intent provides.
I’ve learned the value of that. What if all of life was based on what intent provides next?
That way it's not a personal thing. Don Juan's party exhibited that behavior, and I can see now that it's natural.
What we're trying to do is impossible. So we need to let go, and just accept what we get, and not hold on to things that don't work out.
For example, a witch told me to just use a spell on Cholita, the way Cholita kept leaving spells in my yard, to try to get me to do what she wants.
That assumes I have a preference for the outcome.
It’s a lot less stress if I have none.
Cholita texted me last night, saying she made it to the airport. But she didn't text me when she got on the plane.
3/4ths of the way through the flight, I got this:
Yuppie. Hi Daniel Patrick has been fun for you guys and you are having a good day at the beach 🏝️ !!!
Thank the hotel lordship is a good morning 🌞😊. Hi 👋 is the time of 😕😭.
Thank the people who are officially working there 🐦. Is any chance of a good looking 🍌💦?
Forward for the day and ~#£<$&W” 🔌💰🛵 too.
🙏Will let you know.
Unfortunately, Spanish is Cholita’s primary language, so she doesn’t know the difference between “at the plane”, and “on the plane”.
And by the way: "Any chance of a good looking banana oozing drops of liquid?"
Isn't that what it says in her message???
Uhhhh.... Probably no chance of that tonight. And who's Patrick?
About 15 minutes from the airport, she finally told me she had gotten on board.
But traffic in the LAX loop was really slow, and I didn’t meet her at luggage. She wandered off 2 terminals, and couldn’t manage to text me coherently to explain where she was.
I got her into the car, just barely. Her head was shaking noticeably, and she was talking in a malicious baby talk.
But she began to report what she saw in Seattle, in great detail. It was like she'd gone there just to come back and tell me.
Cholita's always been like that. Even 20 years ago, if you were with her driving in a car, she just continuously reported details of what she'd been doing lately.
After the report on how wonderful Seattle was, she said she was very hungry. She wanted a fancy meal, and "wouldn't settle for something cheap".
But it was too late. Everything was closed.
So she suggested, let’s just go to that very expensive hotel there, and get dinner. Hotel restaurants stay open very late.
Yea right...
We passed a Taco Bell and Cholita shouted to make a U turn, quickly!!!
She settled for a green burrito, commenting on how it was "very filling".
After the burrito, Cholita started to call me a looser who can't get a woman.
I was tempted to get out my cellphone, and show her pictures of absolutely drop dead gorgeous 22 year olds I'd been hanging out with lately.
But instead I reminded her, I'm celibate.
That's your problem, she said. She offered to become my pimp, and get me a girlfriend. She said she'd "set me up", for one after the other and I could take my pick. And she'd give me coaching on how to behave around them.
Cholita's obsessed with the possibility that I prefer Asian women, or African women, women from India, or maybe even a short islander breed of women. If we pass an exotic looking woman on the road, Cholita accuses me of having planted her there, just so we could pass by.
But when it became obvious the only place I’d take her was my home (Cholita knows the freeways near my home now), she said we needed to go to the police first.
Let them take me into custody.
I agreed.
But when we got to the intersection near my home, I asked her, police today, or tomorrow?
I’m tired, she said. Let’s do that tomorrow.
She still wouldn’t sleep on the new bed I got her, but she did get to see that the big fountain was visible right outside her detachable double pane windows.
(Nerds make windows you can completely remove by pulling on a lever in case you need a quick exit).
And she used the bathroom for a long time.
Then she went into the garage, and slept all night in the car.
I went to my bedroom, made it dark, and listened all night to see if she came back into the house.
I figured, that’s the “not doing of Silvio Manuel”, which comes next after Zuleica's dreaming techniques. Supposedly, if your knees are up to your chest, the lack of sleep that night won't even be noticeable.
So it couldn’t hurt to spend a night listening in darkness. I'd planned to try it out anyway. By listening, I could almost feel the inside of the garage, where Cholita was sleeping.
At one point I sensed her in the dark. I thought her dark energy had spread from the garage to my room.
But I couldn’t really pinpoint what it was. I noticed my eyes were closed and I was sitting up on the bed.
I opened them to see if there were still colors in the darkness.
I was sitting on a bench, inside a dream.
I’ve never done that before. Usually dreaming images form on the walls, and I have to enter.
Instead, I was inside a full dream. It was night, the same as it was in the real world. But I could still see bushes, paths, and trees. They were dimly lit by some light source which I couldn't locate. Maybe a full moon.
It was some common area for humans, like the landscaping at a mall, or a park.
I realized, this is not my dream.
I closed my eyes to see why I hadn’t noticed that before. But the park was still there. It didn’t matter if my eyes were open or closed.
Instead of trying to figure out who’s dream that was, I got up and went to the bathroom. I wasn’t coherent enough to realize that dream was a gold mine.
At the time, it was merely annoying because I didn’t know what to do with such a thing. And I didn't see Cholita sitting near me in that dream.
Edited: six times. And on the 6th edit I realized... Cholita's kind of fun, even if she is an overwhelming burden.
In what way, specifically?
And boy it's interesting to see a text from someone for whom English is a second language, and who likes too many emojis! Is the ⛲ (fountain) installed and working?
It is. Although her lights on the umbrella are separate. I need to wire under the ground so that it all works.
Do you know enough to copy my text of Cholita's text message, and fix the emoji references? It's pretty interesting to look at. Or if you could show me how.
In what way was I not coherent? Here's the trouble with dreaming, attained through silence.
You have to be completely innocent to pull that off. And that innocence doesn't fully allow for noticing something is odd, and getting the idea to manipulate it.
The dream was "just there", and stable. And I didn't see Cholita.
So I got up to go to the bathroom.
This might give a little more evidence that Cholita's point of view is valid too.
I put too much emphasis on silence. I'm certain Cholita can go into that dream too, and she doesn't have to be "innocent" to do it.
The implications are horrifying.
But I'm afraid to say, I doubt any men could pull that off. They probably have to force silence to enter dreaming awake.
And even if the women can do it without all the work, they lack the sobriety for that to be beneficial to the community at large, without a male to organize their results.
A Russian witch I know might say, the women find male slaves to do the tedious stuff.
Edited: once
It's interesting enough already, the sms text that is. I hope she finds that good looking 🍌💦, 😜.
All kidding aside, it would be terrifying to be stuck in a dream without understanding how you got into it or how to get out, or even why it was happening...with no sobriety.
Give me some more emoji's and I'll fix that message.
I need a crying emoji too.
And better if the banana is facing the same direction as the drops, like it was in her message.
When I showed her the message, while she was suggesting the police might take me into custody, all she had to say about it was, "What fun huh???!!"
"How to Spot the 9 Traits of Borderline Personality Disorder"
Perhaps this “thin skin” is a side effect of perceptive sensitivity, inactive “superego” and lack of “perception buffer” that rectifies/linearizes the world for normal people.
There is no accepted “cure”, and maybe the theoretical solution is sensitivity damping, assisted by people around - sort of a social grouping not dissimilar to that offered in the books as the “warrior party”. So Carlos and psychiatry might be in sync on this.
I'm always interested in such things, but I have a little experience co-existing with women who are schizophrenic.
They always seem to have these elements: A deep conspiracy to hold them down, which includes at least one woman and one man. The man is replacable, but the woman remains the same.
They claim that money is vanishing from their bank account, and mysterious forces are preventing them from getting more.
And, they have a weird sexual fantasy going on, involving doing things against their will.
You need to make sure you don't permanently become the male villain in their fantasy, help with their financial problems, and if you're lucky, fit yourself into their sexual fantasy, in a safe but fun way.
Neuroscience claims that the frontal cortex is inactive during REM sleep, and it is the frontal cortex that both provides memory capacity and processing capacity to think through decisions.
Without access to FC the decisions made are rash and impulsive, and the only rational ones are those that have been automated so thoroughly that they do not need conscious processing.
There's the famous history of Phineas Gage, based on which the courts allow the "Insanity" defense - decisions made without use of frontal cortex are not "sane".
Some of the standard tests to check functioning FC is counting backwards (numbers, months etc) and any other type of non-automated behavior. Coincidentally, you could say that "not-doing" actually trains frontal cortex, maybe stalkers have hyperactive frontal cortex which allows to use it even though it inactivated in dreaming for normal people..
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phineas_Gage
That's why the internet is so cool for the remnants (failed so far) of the new age movement.
At that new age workshop Cholita dragged me to, the leader said that 10 years ago he had to work hard to find information on obscure topics.
Now there's too much in just minutes. He can correlate and compare things in minutes, and come up with interesting lectures containing ideas that are rather new.
That might allow analyses like yours, and actual experiences described along side them, to give us clues to what works faster.
I guess someone else summed up it better: We might be entering a period of guru-less growth.
Let the crowd be the guru, and give the old guru parasite a permanent vacation in the Himalayas.
Thinking about it a bit more, maybe it's the exact opposite of "training" the frontal cortex. Another feature of FC is categorizing things, f.e. one of the tests given to test FC function in elderly is to recite in non-categorized order and ask to remember a list of 16-20 items (4 vegetables, 5 animals, 3 carpenting tools etc), over several tries. With functioning FC at some point the person will recall the items in categories instead of in the order recited.
So by doing not-doing maybe the FC is actually inhibited..
If remember correctly, over 25% of death-row inmates in US suffered FC damage..
Trouble with that subject is, I'm doing "dreaming awake".
As far as I know, the scientific community is unaware of that, because it's so rare.
So is the FC inactive during dreaming awake? I don't think so. Maybe just sedated.
The new age lecture Cholita brought me to went into a study of NHI (non-human intelligence's).
The researcher disallowed lucid dreaming encounters, saying those were too subject to the whim of the person accounting the dream.
But he had no category for dreaming awake.
Otherwise, he had abductions, close encounters, ghosts, and a bunch of categories of things that could produce encounters with an outside intelligence.
but no dreaming awake...
Florinda was heavily into dreaming awake as I recall. Maybe that's why they tried to pair me off with her.
I'm grateful to have Cholita though.
I put emojis here to copy, but took them out. Wrong size, and came out black and white.
🏝️ 🤭👋😭🐦🔌💰🛵🙏
Let's talk about the "dark magicians" for a bit.
Don't doubt it! They'll actually attack, if they become aware you're escaping their hell. Most not directly, but you can be sure there's some that will.
And at the least they'll form sourpuss mouths, squint their eyes, and generally imitate someone at the end of their rope, or having a stroke, when faced with an account of actual magic.
They're imitating their mom, censoring their magical childhood experiences with sternness, so that her baby doesn't grow up to be an outcast.
That's why the looks they use to bully you all look like they are in pain.
For example, I was so happy Cholita didn't die that I told simple honest accounts of what happened to 2 people I ran into this morning, both of whom know I practice sorcery.
That had to include being in her dream, to explain the benefit of Cholita. There's obviously many drawbacks, and I don't want them thinking I don't greatly enjoy having her around. It might be nice for them to see that the "pursuit of happiness" tends to be a bit selfish, and has no room for Cholita's. But there is room for her in sorcery.
When I got to the part about opening my eyes and being in what seemed to be Cholita's dream, completely awake with eyes open, I got the dark magician effect.
They should have said, "Oh my god, that's a fucking miracle!!! Tell me how to do it!"
But instead, it was concern, worry, and anger.
Forget about the fliers. The chicken coop is run by your friends and family.
This is CRITICAL for all of you.
Sorcery is ephemeral. While you're running along a thread, navigating, you know what's going on.
The instant you stop for too long, it starts to fade away.
That's when the dark magicians can give you a gut punch.
And they will. The only thing they can hope for in the future is to be surrounded by more suffering people, when it comes their time to die.
As Cholita likes to say, when I advise her to learn to get silent, "I love my Humanity!!!"
But look at Cholita's situation. Humanity has rejected her.
Edited: once
That's actually what I was asking when I wanted to know why it was a potential gold mine, that shared dream. Rather than why you didn't realized the opportunity at the time, I got that.
The gold mine was to go find Cholita, and wake her up on the spot.
My guess is that we were in Seattle.
Just once. That's all we need. Then 100% of Carlos' books are proven true.
Well, maybe 75%. I haven't seen any eagles lately.
Let me say this plainly: Cholita was sent here by intent. I don't know if Carlos arranged it, but here's exactly what I needed, and I can't refuse her, or she'll die.
Just once we need to violate causality, for the sake of the lineage. So Carlos' knowledge won't be lost or become pathetically ineffective and join the ranks of the feel good fakers new age movement.
I wish there were others from Sunday Classes giving it a go, but all we have now is me and Cholita.
I'd love to be proven wrong, about it's only us now.
Cholita might even murder me in the next few days, so if that happens, I hope you guys don't give up.
Edited: once
Update from Cholita.
She wants to know if I'll hire a cleaning service. I told her I'd get the delux everything cleaning and she can be the tyrant who decides if it's good enough.
I got back a happy message.
Does she like mirrors?
I don't know but in honor of the question, I'll ask her when I get home. There's a very large mirror behind the couch. I'll ask if she wants to hang it up.
Put it in the fountain, if it'll fit, and you can do that specific gazing practice mentioned in the books where a mirror was submerged in a river.
Oh yea, great idea.
I'll have to wait until she realizes there are no chairs to sit around the fountain.
I'll put in some mirrors or "shiny rocks" once I know how high up the chairs go.
the fountain is strategically positioned so that you could practice La Gorda's flying technique, and still have an extra 20 foot clearance all around, on which to land safely.
I wonder if you could just pee in the fountain...
You must either have no neighbors, or very "checked out" ones who never open their windows (or are deaf)!
On the left is a macho Hispanic American who berates me if my sprinklers touch his new leased car, which he insists in parking on front of my house so that his spots are still available. His wife is hot for flirting action centering around how to make her lawn as green as mine.
Their son is tall, polite, and handsome, and brings amazingly hot but very confused young women around all the time. I sometimes see them wandering down the street in a daze, dressed too sexy to be legal in southern states, and near to tears.
He likes me because he used to water my lawn when I was in Russia for too long. He was paid well.
On my right is an old Italian woman whose husband died 8 years ago. When I first bought the house he was still alive. They stood on the other side of the parking lot wall chatting with me, when I first moved in.
The old woman asked if I was married, and I said I wasn't, but was very hopeful.
Her old Italian husband looked at me, at my empty house, and the things I was moving in. Stuff only a bachelor would have. There was a full sized medical skeleton sticking out of a cardboard box.
He looked at me, and responded to my comment on being hopeful for a wife.
He asked, "Why?????"
His old Italian wife punched him on the arm.
Behind me is the guy who called the fire department, the last time I used my fireplace. They banged on the backyard door and I answered in pajamas. I'm not sure why they didn't use the front door.
Then how does it work with a Cholita around gesticulating and peeing on her hands while an older gentlemen stares into a fountain for hours?
Uhhhh.....
I guess the optics are bad. Cholita has to remind me of that constantly, when we're in public.
Oddly, women come up to me and give me encouragement. "Oh, you must be the most patient man in the world!".
And "Doesn't she ever let you rest???" My favorite reply to that one is, "Not for a second!!!!"
But there's benefits to the bad optics.
Expensive restaurants figure out that I can afford to go there as often as I like, that Cholita causes a massive stink, and that all I want for her to do is smile a while.
As a result, Cholita can cut in line, saving a 2 hour wait for those without reservations.
Reservations are impossible with Cholita.
And I end up with 3 waiters and the manager, replacing Mohitos and Fish Tacos at Cholita's whim. Attractive men and women constantly come over to ask if everything is ok so far.
Last night it was, "This taco isn't bitter enough!". They returned with one that was ideal, and I suspect there was a proud chef in the back thinking, "Peasants!!!! Don't you get the genius of my non-traditional fish batter?"
He had to revert to beer batter. As the waitress explained, "Heavy on the beer, batter!"
But the best is, they make sure we get another drink when we want one...
Some aspects of the restaurant business aren't as straight forward as you'd think. Don't get me started on where to go, to get underage women drunk. Hint: it's not the seedy places.
I guess what I was getting at was how the neighbors respond to the outwardly bizarre sorcery maneuvers of their strange neighbors.
I have a high block wall all around the back, but someone screaming in the front yard is always noticed.
The school girls who live nearby used to wait across the street in front of my house, and giggle when I walked out. They were especially fond of Jenna, a bombshell blond of 22.
One of those local school girls grew up, and showed up on the sidewalk directly touching my front lawn, dressed like a hooker. She'd drawn elaborate tattoos on her arms. She wanted to chat.
That's how they respond.
Cholita said yes, sure. And as to peeing in her hands, she said, "So???"
Final part:
Cholita had told me so many stories that day that I couldn’t get around to doing them justice until now. I was too busy protecting her.
But now she’s fled again, and I’m in a good mood because I didn’t find her dead in the hotel room. She’d warned me, it would get very bloody.
So now I have more time to write.
I have to put out a warning. Cholita is completely mad. And she has a very heavy Spanish accent when she's telling stories. Plus, time seems to be flexible in her stories.
Even worse, Cholita is likely to start laughing so loud that she has to bend over and suspend the story for minutes at a time.
So if I get details, names or dates wrong, it isn't because I didn't try enough.
The important thing is, Cholita is intending with her stories.
I wish I’d had my voice recorder with me when I got these, so that I could keep all of them. She went over at least 100 workshop and private class members.
And she’s warned me, she probably won’t repeat stories.
But stormtroopers have methods for extracting information, that an impeccable warrior might not use.
If I can get 3 drinks into her instead of 1, she’ll talk.
Oh yea, she’ll talk. And sing too.
She sings quite well, by the way. And dances too!
Cholita began her stories by clearing up how she got her name. According to her, a Chola is a female Chicano. Someone born outside Mexico, but from Mexican heritage.
I have to say, there’s a lot more to it than that. Chola’s were a cultural phenomenon in Southern California in the 70s. It was pretty common when I was in high school to have someone say, “Hey man, check out those Cholas!!!”
If you checked them out, you’d see a little gang posing by leaning on a fence, decked out in very stylish makeup and costumes. They always seemed to have angry expressions on their faces, despite the fact that their only purpose for leaning up against that wall was to get looked at.
And there was never a doubt, it took them at least 2 hours to attain that perfect Chola look. Everyone also knew, they had switch blades.
But given Cholita's tame "Chicano" definition, and since she was born in Mexico City, I had to point out that it made no sense.
She explained, since it was Margarita who brought her into the group, and Margarita was in fact a Chicano, Carlos just dubbed her as a smaller copy.
That clears it up, I guess. But why did he associate Cholita with Margarita?
It was because Margarita traveled to where Cholita was chewing peyote, and secured her to come back here.
But wait, there’s more. Apparently, Carlos was engaged in business activities with South America, and one of them just happened to be Cholita’s specialty. She couldn’t help but want to go hang out with him.
It was what she’d trained for, for years. Her chosen passion.
Carlos was importing "substantial" collections of art, as Cholita put it.
There was even an art gallery called, “Chacmool Gallery”.
I tried to quiz Cholita on whether the owner was practicing sorcery, but all I got in reply was that he was a great guy, but short and Jewish.
Cholita isn’t shy about disliking specific social groups based on dubious motives. And if you are overweight or short, you fall into yet another category.
Not of sexual interest. That’s the category that seems to matter most to Cholita.
If you ever end up taking care of a Cholita, be sure to ask her which men were attractive.
It stirs up lots of good stories.
So Margarita, a Chola herself, arranged for Cholita to come to the USA, and live in her residence.
By the way, when Cholita says that name, it sounds more like, "Margareete". But I couldn't find that name on any of my lists.
I’m not clear on what the residence given to Cholita was. She isn’t given to answering questions intended to clarify an issue. She just keeps going.
But Cholita lived in her residence, and then Margarita got a house on a hill with an outdoor fireplace, and Cholita ended up with the residence. And she generously brought Pamela in there for a week or two, before she tired of her and kicked her out.
There’s some conflicting info here, regarding Cholita’s husband. Somehow she was also living with him during her explanations, when in fact she’d previously said she dumped him and traveled to LA to be in private classes.
So as the story now goes, Cholita’s husband didn’t like him being around Carlos. And they were ultimately broken up as a result of her being in private classes.
But then, even private classes were taken away.
She had no husband, insufficient and irregular income, and worst of all, Carlos stopped calling her to private classes.
She was devastated.
She was given a job at Chacmool gallery.
And at the same time, or maybe later, Margarita told her, she needed to quit smoking and cut her hair.
She did both immediately.
Full on cold turkey on the smoking. As a stormtropper, I've been trying to get her to take up cigar smoking. Cholita could really cash in with a mercury bowl seance, and my ability to manifest spirits. And I'd like to see if her madness might be lessened with more dopamine from the nicotine.
But like her hair, the changes Carlos made are permanent for her. Seances are ok, but not cigars.
I'm the same way. The agreements I have with Carlos are permanent. I need them, to keep following intent.
As a result of her immediate obedience, she got back into private classes, free entry to workshops, and eventually received Margarita’s residence for her own.
That was possibly around a year before Carlos died.
Cholita said, she was aware I’d already been in private classes for years before that.
I actually don’t remember. I thought the whole thing was only a year or less. And I'd been floating around Carlos since I was 9.
I asked her about more Carlos business enterprises.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she answered a different question.
“He was always on the phone with Cleargreen in Mexico”, she said.
I asked if he was actually controlling them?
“Of course. He was very hands on with everything!”, she replied.
But he wasn’t what you’d call a bully or narcissistic. In fact, Carlos was rather protective and had a sense of justice.
That can be seen from the famous case of a “syntactic command” gone wrong.
A syntactic command is a phrase which elicits all kinds of images in the mind, which aren’t directly related to the words used.
For instance, “my butt is too big”.
Too big for what?
Such concepts are the enemy of couriers who travel into infinity, to bring back tales of the second attention.
If your “butt is too big”, you won’t go anywhere.
This topic of Carlos’ protective nature came up as we traveled to the Century City mall, which was located right in the thick of Carlos territory.
Everything we drove by seemed to trigger Cholita’s memory. At one small house, nestled between dense trees, she pointed out where Blue Moon Bakery had been.
I remembered the name as something whispered by class mates. But I never understood why. I only knew, if I should stroll by, be sure to buy something.
As Cholita relates it, there was this woman who was moving up in rank fast.
She was offered a pair of shoes. I presume it was a gift from someone already in the inner circle.
I was offered such a gift too, but since I declined it, I didn’t get into the inner circle. I was offered Florinda.
Probably passing on something like that wasn’t considered a serious offense, but more like an omen of which way you’d go. I might know where the witches went if I'd gone for that.
But I was celibate. It was a non-sequitur to me.
Come to think of it, I was given Cholita shortly after that.
Continued in reply due to word limits...
Final Stories Continued...
Unfortunately for that woman, passing on shoes was a fatal mistake. She commented, “I can’t wear those!”
She was tossed out of private classes instantly.
But as a consolation prize, Carlos gave her $10,000. In today’s terms, and especially considering the rapid rise of real estate prices in LA, I’d say it was more like $20,000 in today’s currency.
She opened Blue Moon Bakery.
Cholita’s residence was just across from there, on Santa Monica Blvd.
Something else we drove by triggered a memory in Cholita . And she explained it in detail.
But I didn’t have a voice recorder, and I’m dim witted when trying to protect Cholita, which is an arduous task.
All I have left is, “Powerful Movie Executive”, and maybe Sony pictures.
When I wrote the Nagualist newsletter, a reader sent information about the witches giving a lecture at Sony pictures.
And Carlos often joked, he’d like to make a movie about his books, but he was afraid Anthony Quinn would play don Juan, and god knows who would play him. Hopefully Robert Redford.
I’m afraid the powerful movie executive story may be lost.
I’ve also lost the information on the “obviously married” couple, from private classes.
And I don’t mean Miles and Aerin.
It was some other couple, who for whatever reason stirred up gossip for being married.
If the men are supposed to be celibate, meaning the women can’t have sex with them, how come it’s ok for them to be married?
Reading the subtitles, the real controversy was over whether the hornier women might get away with pairing up with one of the men.
That’s the controversy I remember.
Cholita confirmed, she remembered that as being an issue.
And she told me the rest of that story, but it’s lost.
One more thing came up. It may be that you don’t know, but Cholita and I were in fact married. Carlos gave her to me for protection.
But since I’m celibate, it didn’t really amount to a real marriage. Plus Cholita hates me with a passion. I'm an unkempt slob, and not suitable for a "woman of great substance".
And at some point our marriage seemed no longer necessary, and was rather wasteful of resources as Carlos pointed out. My tax rate went up just because I checked the box saying "married".
So we got a divorce.
We needed a reason for the divorce, to put on the papers. Since I’m celibate, I thought it would be amusing to say I wanted children, and she didn’t.
That stuck in Cholita’s mind. She was bitter about it. I’m not sure which imaginary reason for the divorce she would have preferred.
But with her schizophrenia, that reason has become an obsession.
If we’re out and about and see a toddler run by happily, with a doting parent following it for protection, Cholita assumes I’ve arranged that just to keep nagging her about having children together.
One ran by in a restaurant, and Cholita decided to bring up the “womb series”.
She wanted to taunt me with babies.
I’d forgotten about that!
In one series of workshops, perhaps 3 in a row on a weekend, the men and women were separated.
The women learned magical passes only suitable for women. Using their womb, they could draw energy from the earth, then use it to assemble other worlds.
Jackpot!
I have endless plans for how to use that energy, if Cholita ever comes to live with me.
If anyone can find a video of it, please post the link here.
It also illustrates that tensegrity isn’t just endless repeating of the same type of move, designed to copy Zuleica’s technique.
There are witchcraft practices embedded in there.
Edited
That married couple was probably the dentist and french/canadian: François and Angelica..? That married for visa or something like that:
http://castaneda-ru.com/viewtopic.php?id=1008
I'm not sure. This may be 2 different situations.
I'll ask Cholita if I ever see her again.
Most phones have Voice Recorder function
You forget that I'm a software idiot.
I don't know how to use my cellphone. I could design a better one from scratch, including designing all the chips inside it, but using it is beyond me.
Plus, I had to find a "cute" one. If Cholita doesn't say, "OOOHHHH, how cute you are!" when she sees it, she won't let me put it near her on the table.
She sometimes turns down things because they're the wrong color. Or she won't go into restaurants which have the word, "dog" in them.
Chances are, she considers my cellphone "filthy", from being talked into by me.
shot you a private message.
Does Cholita like the smell of wildflowers?
I don't know. She won't talk to me anymore, so there's no way to find out.
Sometimes I don't even see her for months, even though she's got no place else to go.
It would be easier to ask Minx than to ask Cholita!
But god only knows what would get into Minx, if asked about that.
You don't want to put ideas into the demon squirrel's mind.
I did give her some orchids, Chocolate, and a bottle of imported Sangria wine a year or two ago, for her birthday.
She tore the orchids in half and tossed them under my bed, broke the vase into a dagger shape and positioned it under my bed pointing the sharp part up, so that if my bed collapsed I'd be stabbed in the heart.
Then poured the bottle of sangria over my mattress on the sheets, and covered it over with the quilt so that I'd accidentally climb in and be covered in "blood" (Sangria).
I don't know what happened to the chocolate.
Hopefully Minx stole that and squirreled it away somewhere.
Oh. Well I hope your friend comes back. Ive been. Learning the feelings I've once touched. And her name came to me energetically and when I focused her into the light that I see. I instantly smelled wildflowers. And asked if it was really relevant. And an empty box was thrown at me by the wind.
Could be nothing. But the moment was the moment and I feel the urge to share this .
Going back to my learning now have a good day 🌗
Hello, I wanted to ask a few things, why was Carlos looking for the orange explorer? And why can't I find him? Maybe that task falls to you?
On the other hand, say that I like cholita stories, and how you tell them reminds me of Carlos in the first book.
I just tell the truth about Cholita. It's entertaining because of her.
And I don't tell the worst stories...
She's gotten better the last few days. I'm not sure why. Could be very old people from the Hollywood area who know what's going on.
Cholita does odd imitations of me which seem to have come from someone else.
Could also be Cholita got meds when she went to get free healthcare (if you have no income, it's free in California). But all I see is letters from a medical service.
Maybe a doctor realized she was schizophrenic. And talked her into the meds, to solve her problem with electricity keeping her awake at night, in her legs.
I don't know what was up with the orange scout.
But Jadey knows more about it.
Cholita was hoping it was her, as were many other of the women.
But what a burden to be "the orange scout"!
Sounds like a really crappy job, since it doesn't pay anymore.
And we're all up to our ears in magic already.
I do not know to what extent to trust current medicine, I am not actually vaccinated (my own thought, all my family and close people do trust medicine)
when you talk about your autism, and you mean things like: I can't help but tell the truth because I'm autistic, I can't help but relate
On the other hand, I see it as normal that people who cannot perceive energy see a powerful witch like Cholita as someone who has schizophrenia or other mental illnesses, since I believe that in this society the crazy ones are the ones who see the truth.
Like, I don't know what you mean by Hollywood, but before reading Carlos I was very conspiratorial and I can't help but read elites (famous and high-profile people) and not think about how they make human sacrifices and etc. I don't know if you know what I'm up to I mean. (I was amused when cholita named the Bilderberg or Freemasons)
I just want to tell you Dan that thank you very much for continuing Carlos' legacy, trying to help others and open this door, I am a new generation and I am translating as I go (I am from Spain) so I still have to understand many things and practice a lots, but just say thank you for all your work
All or nearly all of the apprentices of don Juan moved to LA and lived near Carlos.
One of them (Soledad) tinkering with movies in Hollywood. Even perhaps Star Wars.
Others helping unload the wealth of the lineage.
And there's stories and landmarks associated with them living there.
Above Malibu beach there's a few in the undeveloped low mountains. Rock circles, a cave on the edge of a sheer cliff, and places where some of the apprentices hunted for plants.
One of those apprentices I probably met by accident when Cholita needed me to drive her there.
He looked unreasonably horrified to see me at his doorstep.
Owned a gallery which most likely included art from Spain that was hundreds of years old.
Carlos was importing stuff like that, and Cholita was in that business.
But she never tells what she knows.
Unless you piss her off, and she wants to put you in your place.
By lifting you into the air with one finger, for example.
Scared me nearly to death the first time.
But I got used to it.
All this arouses my curiosity, and makes me wonder if Carlos managed to control the elitist dark sorcerers who eat children, so that they would let him publish his work without endangering his life, but it is better to keep quiet about this conspiracy inventory even though it has logic. are just assumptions
I was reading this reddit:
https://www.reddit.com/r/castaneda/comments/dpbjxp/a_suggestion_from_cholita/
and you speak in the envelope as carlos taught you to use clairvoyance
(I will add that divination, as Carlos calls it, is quite simple.
You think a thought, then return to silence. And wait. That's all.)
I wanted to ask about it since in my case it is normal to receive a thought or alert when someone is about to reply to a message,
For example, to this message that I am replying to now, I received an alert in my ``mind`` before you responded (but even before they responded, rather at the moment they read what I wrote)
all this happens to me by forcing internal silence throughout the day
(I can't silence it sometimes but it's getting better, now I like it, when I do things without thinking like reading the subreddit or writing this message I feel full of energy)
It sounds like potential silent knowledge. That's what it's like.
But it seems unlikely you can move your assemblage point there at this point.
It's a very long ways.
Could be a touch of schizophrenia like Cholita has.
But if you read all of the books, you know that Zuleica, Zoila, and Josefina had schizophrenia, and they were amazing witches.
Just don't confuse random stuff with stuff you earn through hard work.
Sorcery is the hard work kind, not the random stuff.
It's "the mastery of intent".
Key word being "mastery".
In that process a bunch of other stuff we don't even discuss in here happens, such as losing the human form and having your will come out. And discovering the "soft body".
Those won't happen by a random path.
Possibly that's one reason for the strong emphasis on "the warrior's way" in the original teachings.
Except that idea flopped big time in the Castaneda community.
But maybe, if you really were "impeccable", then even random magic would be enough to lead to the mastery part of this definition of sorcery.
I just don't myself believe anyone but a sorcerer is capable of figuring out how to be impeccable.
Yes, I know, I know it's not worth having magical acts happen to you without knowing how it happened , but what we are looking for is to master the intention to call them whenever you want.
i'm the guy i'm talking to you on instagram, in the sunlight i keep seeing worms in the air like black worms, or sometimes split into dots, and they look dull, or if i look at the blue sky for a while i start to see little balls or orbs white all over the sky, as if it were a field of bright but small orbs, but I know THIS IS NOT GOOD
I have to learn to do it by myself, not that it appears naturally, I understand that when you tell me to master the intention.
With the word mastery I think you described it perfectly.
Again thank you for answering and all your knowledge(I'm sorry if something is translated wrong, and I say something strange)