I Dug Up Peyote in the Mexican Desert | ABOUT CARLOS CASTANEDA, Peruvian writer | United States
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Teachings-Don-Juan-Yaqui-Knowledge
'via Blog this' Carlos Castaneda From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia Carlos Castaneda Cc1962.JPG Carlos Castaneda 1962 Born Unclear: conflicting data. Died 27/04/1998 Los Angeles, California, U.S. Occupation Author Nationality American Period 20th-century Subject Anthropology/Ethnography/Shamanism Carlos Castaneda (Birthdate unclear – died April 27, 1998), [1] was an American author with a Ph.D. in anthropology. Starting with The Teachings of Don Juan in 1968, Castaneda wrote a series of books that describe his training in shamanism, particularly a group that he called the Toltecs. The books, narrated in the first person, relate his experiences under the tutelage of a Yaqui "Man of Knowledge" named Don Juan Matus. His 12 books have sold more than 28 million copies in 17 languages. Critics have suggested that they are works of fiction; supporters claim the books are either true or at least valuable works of philosophy and descriptions of practices which enable an increased awareness. Castaneda withdrew from public view in 1973 to work further on his inner development, living in a large house with three women who he called "Fellow Travellers of Awareness", and who were ready to cut their ties to family and changed their names. He founded Cleargreen, an organization that promoted tensegrity, purportedly a traditional Toltec regimen of spiritually powerful exercises. Contents [hide] 1 Early life 2 Career 3 Death 4 Companions 5 Reception 6 Related authors 7 Bibliography 8 See also 9 Footnotes 10 References 11 Further reading 12 External links Early life[edit] He moved to the United States in the early 1950s and became a naturalized citizen in 1957. Castaneda was educated at UCLA (B.A. 1962; Ph.D. 1973).[2] Career[edit] Castaneda's first three books – The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge; A Separate Reality; and Journey to Ixtlan – were written while he was an anthropology student at the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA). He wrote these books as his research log describing his apprenticeship with a traditional "Man of Knowledge" identified as don Juan Matus, a Yaqui Indian from northern Mexico. Castaneda was awarded his bachelor's and doctoral degrees based on the work described in these books. In 1974 his fourth book, Tales of Power, was published and chronicled the end of his apprenticeship under the tutelage of Matus. Castaneda continued to be popular with the reading public with subsequent publications. In his books, Castaneda narrates in first person the events leading to and following after his meeting Matus, a half-Yaqui "Man of Knowledge", in 1960. Castaneda's experiences with Matus inspired the works for which he is known. He also says the sorcerer bequeathed him the position of nagual, or leader of a party of seers. He also used the term "nagual" to signify that part of perception which is in the realm of the unknown yet still reachable by man, implying that, for his party of seers, Don Juan was a connection in some way to that unknown. Castaneda often referred to this unknown realm as nonordinary reality. The term "nagual" has been used by anthropologists to mean a shaman or sorcerer who claims to be able to change into an animal form, or to metaphorically "shift" into another form through magic rituals, shamanism and experiences with psychoactive drugs (e.g., peyote and jimson weed – Datura stramonium).[3] In all,12 books by Castaneda were published, two posthumously. Castaneda was the subject of a cover article in the March 5, 1973 issue of Time.[4] The article described him as "an enigma wrapped in a mystery". When confronted by correspondent Sandra Burton about discrepancies in his personal history, Castaneda responded by saying: "To ask me to verify my life by giving you my statistics... is like using science to validate sorcery. It robs the world of its magic and makes milestones out of us all." The interviewer wrote: "Castaneda makes the reader experience the pressure of mysterious winds and the shiver of leaves at twilight, the hunter's peculiar alertness to sound and smell, the rock-bottom scrubbiness of Indian life, the raw fragrance of tequila and the vile, fibrous taste of peyote, the dust in the car, and the loft of a crow's flight. It is a superbly concrete setting, dense with animistic meaning. This is just as well, in view of the utter weirdness of the events that happen in it." Following that interview, Castaneda retired from public view. In the 1990s, Castaneda once again began appearing in public to promote Tensegrity, a group of movements that he claimed had been passed down by 25 generations of Toltec shamans. On 16 June 1995, articles of incorporation executed by George Short were filed to create Cleargreen Incorporated. The Cleargreen statement of purpose says in part: "Cleargreen is a corporation that has a twofold purpose. First, it sponsors and organizes seminars and workshops on Carlos Castaneda's Tensegrity, and second, it is a publishing house." Cleargreen published three videos of Tensegrity movements while Castaneda was alive. Castaneda himself did not appear in these videos. Death[edit] Castaneda died on April 27, 1998 in Los Angeles due to complications from hepatocellular cancer. There was no public service; Castaneda was cremated and the ashes were sent to Mexico. It was unknown until nearly two months later, on 19 June 1998, when an obituary entitled "A Hushed Death for Mystic Author Carlos Castaneda" by staff writer J. R. Moehringer appeared in the Los Angeles Times.[5] Four months after Castaneda's death, C. J. Castaneda, also known as Adrian Vashon, whose birth certificate shows Carlos Castaneda as his father, challenged Castaneda's will in probate court. Carlos' death certificate states metabolic encephalopathy for 72 hours prior to his death, yet the will was supposedly signed 48 hours before Castaneda's death.[not in citation given] CJ challenged its authenticity. The challenge was ultimately unsuccessful.[6] The New York Times, upon his death, said of "his dubious biography and shaman like tales" that "[f]ew academics regard them as serious scholarship."[6] Companions[edit] After Castaneda stepped away from public view in 1973, he bought a large[7] house in Los Angeles[8] which he shared with three of his female companions. The women broke off relationships with friends and family when they joined Castaneda's group. They also refused to be photographed and took new names: Regina Thal became Florinda Donner-Grau, Maryann Simko became Taisha Abelar and Kathleen Pohlman became Carol Tiggs. In the early 1990s, Florinda Donner-Grau and Taisha Abelar published two books purporting to describe their experiences with Don Juan and his party. Together with Carol Tiggs, they appeared and sometimes lectured at many of the Tensegrity workshops that began in July 1993, and Donner-Grau and Abelar appeared at book signings and gave occasional lectures and radio interviews as well. Shortly after Castaneda died, Donner-Grau and Abelar disappeared, along with Patricia Partin. Amalia Marquez (also known as Talia Bey) and Tensegrity instructor Kylie Lundahl had their phones disconnected and also disappeared. On August 2, 1998, Carol spoke at a workshop in Ontario. Because the women had cut all ties with family and friends, it was some time before people noticed they were missing. There has been no official investigation into the disappearances of Donner-Grau, Simko and Lundahl. Luis Marquez, the brother of Talia Bey, went to police in 1999 over his sister's disappearance, but was unable to convince them that her disappearance merited investigation.[citation needed] Reception[edit] Despite the widespread popularity of his works, some critics questioned the validity of Castaneda's books as early as 1969. In a series of articles, international banker and amateur mycologist R. Gordon Wasson, who had originally praised Castaneda's work, questioned the accuracies of Castaneda's botanical claims.[9] In 1976, author and Scientologist Richard de Mille published Castaneda's Journey: The Power and the Allegory, in which he argued, "Logical or chronological errors in the narrative constitute the best evidence that Castaneda's books are works of fiction. If no one has discovered these errors before, the reason must be that no one has listed the events of the first three books in sequence. Once that has been done, the errors are unmistakable."[10] On these showings de Mille asserts, The Teachings of Don Juan and Journey to Ixtlan (his third book) cannot both be factual reports.[11] For his part, Castaneda in the introduction to A Separate Reality, his second book, addressed the incomprehensible nature of his experiences as only being able to be understood in the context of the alien system of perception from which they arose, suggesting that his books are by their very nature contradictory and incomprehensible (as to time and place especially) to academic and critical inquiry. In a 1968 radio interview[12] with Theodore Roszak, Castaneda, while confirming that his mystical experiences were absolutely true to life, did explain that he took some chronological license in his writing about actual events: "The way the books present it seems to heighten some dramatic sequences, which is, I'm afraid, not true to real life. There are enormous gaps in between in which ordinary things took place, that are not included. I didn't include in the book because they did not pertain to the system I wanted to portray, so I just simply took them away, you see. And that means that the gaps between those very heightened states, you know, whatever, says that I remove things that are continuous crescendos, in kind of sequence leading to a very dramatic solution. But in real life it was a very simple matter because it took years between, months pass in between them, and in the meantime we did all kinds of things. We even went hunting. He (Don Juan) told me how to trap things, set traps, very old, old ways of setting a trap, and how to catch rattlesnakes. He told me how to prepare rattlesnakes, in fact. And so that eases up, you see, the distrust or the fear." At first, and with the backing of academic qualifications and the UCLA anthropological department, Castaneda's work was critically acclaimed. Notable anthropologists like Edward Spicer (1969) and Edmund Leach (1969)[13] praised Castaneda, alongside more alternative and young anthropologists. The authenticity of Don Juan was accepted for six years, until Richard de Mille and Daniel Noel both published their critical exposés of the Don Juan books in 1976. Most anthropologists had been convinced of Castaneda's authenticity until then – indeed, they had had little reason to question it – but some averred that de Mille's analysis disproved the veracity of Castaneda's work. Later anthropologists specializing in Yaqui Indian culture (William Curry Holden, Jane Holden Kelley and Edward H. Spicer), who originally supported Castaneda's account as true, questioned the accuracies of Castaneda's work.[14] Others[who?] (including Dr. Clement Meighan) point out that the books largely, and for the most part, do not pretend to describe Yaqui culture at all with its emphasis on Catholic upbringing and conflict with the Federal State of Mexico, but rather focus on the international movements and life of Don Juan who was described in the books as traveling and having many connections, and abodes, in the Southwestern United States (Arizona), Northern Mexico, and Oaxaca. Don Juan was described in the books as a shaman steeped in a mostly lost Toltec philosophy and decidedly anti-Catholic. Dr. Clement Meighan, one of Castaneda's professors at UCLA, and an acknowledged expert on Indian culture in the U.S., Mexico, and other areas in North America, up to his death, never doubted that Castaneda's work was based upon authentic contact with and observations of Indians. Later, Miguel Ruiz also verified the existence of Indian "Brujos" in Mexico with native teachings much like Don Juan's. A March 5, 1973 Time article by Sandra Burton, looking at both sides of the controversy, stated: ...the more worldly claim to importance of Castaneda's books: to wit, that they are anthropology, a specific and truthful account of an aspect of Mexican Indian culture as shown by the speech and actions of one person, a shaman named Juan Matus. That proof hinges on the credibility of Don Juan as a being and Carlos Castaneda as a witness. Yet there is no corroboration beyond Castaneda's writings that Don Juan did what he is said to have done, and very little that he exists at all. A strong case can be made that the Don Juan books are of a different order of truthfulness from Castaneda's pre-Don Juan past. Where, for example, was the motive for an elaborate scholarly put-on? The Teachings were submitted to a university press, an unlikely prospect for best-sellerdom. Besides, getting an anthropology degree from U.C.L.A. is not so difficult that a candidate would employ so vast a confabulation just to avoid research. A little fudging perhaps, but not a whole system in the manner of The Teachings, written by an unknown student with, at the outset, no hope of commercial success.[4] David Silverman sees value in the work even while considering it fictional. In Reading Castaneda he describes the apparent deception as a critique of anthropology field work in general – a field that relies heavily on personal experience, and necessarily views other cultures through a lens. According to Silverman, not only the descriptions of peyote trips but also the fictional nature of the work are meant to place doubt on other works of anthropology.[15] Donald Wieve cites Castaneda to explain the insider/outsider problem as it relates to mystical experiences, while acknowledging the fictional nature of his work.[16] Related authors[edit] Two other authors, Taisha Abelar and Florinda Donner-Grau, wrote books in which they claimed to be from Matus' party of Toltec warriors. Both Abelar and Donner-Grau were endorsed by Castaneda as being legitimate students of Matus, whereas he dismissed all other writers as pretenders. The two women were part of Castaneda's inner circle, which he referred to as "The Brujas," and both assumed different names as part of their dedication to their new beliefs. They were originally both graduate students in anthropology at UCLA. Felix Wolf, one of Carlos Castaneda's apprentices and translators, wrote The Art of Navigation: Travels with Carlos Castaneda and Beyond. In his book Wolf details how his life had been transformed by his association with Castaneda. While touching on all aspects of the teachings, Wolf highlights what he perceives to be the overriding and essential transmission that came through Castaneda's work: The Art of Navigation. Amy Wallace wrote Sorcerer's Apprentice: My Life with Carlos Castaneda,[17] an account of her personal experiences with Castaneda and his followers. In Carlos Castaneda e a Fenda entre os Mundos – Vislumbres da Filosofia Ānahuacah no Século XXI Brazilian writer Luis Carlos de Morais analyzes the work of Carlos Castaneda, its cultural implications, and its continuation in other authors. Sanchez's first book, The Teachings of Don Carlos: Practical Applications of the Works of Carlos Castaneda (1995), provides in-depth techniques and commentary on a path of "self-growth" based on the wisdom of the Toltec descendants. His approach in this book is bringing the proposals of Castaneda down to the earth focusing on those parts of Castaneda's book that can be applied in everyday life and used for personal development. Sanchez has published three further books: Toltecs of the New Millennium (1996), providing an overview of and background on the author's experiences with the Wirrarika; The Toltec Path of Recapitulation: Healing Your Past to Free Your Soul (2001); and The Toltec Oracle (2004). Sanchez's recapitulation technique bears some resemblance to Sandra Ingerman's soul retrieval technique, but is probably the most comprehensive approach to the subject that has been published so far. Other shamanic teachers using similar techniques include Michael Harner, PhD founder of "core shamanism", and Ken Page, founder of Heart and Soul Healing. Some have associated Sanchez's work with Toltec author Don Miguel Ruiz, author of The Four Agreements. Bibliography[edit] Main article: Carlos Castaneda bibliography The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge, 1968. ISBN 0-520-21757-8. (Summer 1960 to October 1965.) A Separate Reality: Further Conversations with Don Juan, 1971. ISBN 0-671-73249-8. (April 1968 to October 1970.) Journey to Ixtlan: The Lessons of Don Juan, 1972. ISBN 0-671-73246-3. (Summer 1960 to May 1971.) Tales of Power, 1974. ISBN 0-671-73252-8. (Autumn 1971 to the 'Final Meeting' with don Juan Matus in 1973.) The Second Ring of Power, 1977. ISBN 0-671-73247-1. (Meeting his fellow apprentices after the 'Final Meeting'.) The Eagle's Gift, 1981. ISBN 0-671-73251-X. (Continuing with his fellow apprentices; and then alone with La Gorda.) The Fire From Within, 1984. ISBN 0-671-73250-1. (Don Juan's 'Second Attention' teachings through to the 'Final Meeting' in 1973.) The Power of Silence: Further Lessons of Don Juan, 1987. ISBN 0-671-73248-X. (The 'Abstract Cores' of don Juan's lessons.) The Art of Dreaming, 1993. ISBN 0-06-092554-X. (Review of don Juan's lessons in dreaming.) Magical Passes: The Practical Wisdom of the Shamans of Ancient Mexico, 1998. ISBN 0-06-017584-2. (Body movements for breaking the barriers of normal perception.) The Wheel of Time: Shamans of Ancient Mexico, Their Thoughts About Life, Death and the Universe, 1998. ISBN 0-9664116-0-9. (Selected quotations from the first eight books.) The Active Side of Infinity, 1999. ISBN 0-06-019220-8. (Memorable events of his life.) See also[edit] Lucid dream Neoshamanism New Age Toltec (Castaneda) William Patrick Patterson Marlo Morgan Footnotes[edit] Jump up ^ The Scribner Encyclopedia of American Lives, Volume 5: 1997–1999. Charles Scribner's Sons, 2002. Jump up ^ De Mille (1976) Jump up ^ Castaneda, C: The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge, pp. 88–120, Washington Square Press Publication, 1968 paperback ISBN 0-671-60041-9 ^ Jump up to: a b Burton, Sandra; et al. (March 5, 1973). "Don Juan and the Sorcerer's Apprentice". Time 101 (10). Retrieved 2011-12-23. Jump up ^ Castaneda Obituary All Things Considered, June 19, 1998 ^ Jump up to: a b "Mystery Man's Death Can't End the Mystery; Fighting Over Carlos Castaneda's Legacy" by Peter Applebome, NY Times, August 19, 1998, retrieved September 3, 2008 Jump up ^ Castaneda house SOLD, This Multi-Family Home located at 10429 Eastborne Avenue, Los Angeles CA sold for $1,200,000 on Apr 30, 2009 Jump up ^ 10429 Eastborne Avenue, Los Angeles, CA - Google Maps Jump up ^ Wasson, R. Gordon. 1969. (Bk. Rev.). Economic Botany vol. 23(2):197. A review of Carlos Castaneda's "The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge.", Wasson, R. Gordon. 1972a. (Bk. Rev.). Economic Botany vol. 26(1):98–99. A review of Carlos Castaneda's "A Separate Reality: Further Conversations with Don Juan."; Wasson, R. Gordon. 1973a. (Bk. Rev.). Economic Botany vol. 27(1):151–152. A review of Carlos Castaneda's "Journey to Ixtlan: The Lessons of Don Juan."; Wasson, R. Gordon. . 1974. (Bk. Rev.). Economic Botany vol. 28(3):245–246. A review of Carlos Castaneda's "Tales of Power".; Wasson, R. Gordon. . 1977a. (Mag., Bk. Rev). Head vol. 2(4):52–53, 88–94. November. Jump up ^ De Mille (1976), p. 166 Jump up ^ De Mille (1976), pp. 170–171 Jump up ^ Roszak, Theodore (30 January 1969). "DON JUAN THE SORCERER - Carlos Castaneda interview". KPFA, Pacifica Radio Archive,. Retrieved 23 January 2013.
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Dug Up Peyote in the Mexican Desert
by Laurel TuohyIn the fall of 2012, I set off from my apartment in Mexico City and traveled nine hours through rough terrain to the Chihuahuan Desert to illegally dig up and take peyote. Growing up in Connecticut, I'd heard of the hallucinogen but not of anyone actually doing it. Back then, I wasn't even sure what it was. Though like many teens I'd explored most other psychedelics before graduating high school, peyote was the only one that still held an element of wonder in my mind.RECOMMENDED
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So when my friend Luis mentioned he'd heard of a remote place in Mexico where people went to dig up the psychedelic cactus and trip in the desert, it seemed like a no-brainer.Peyote's scientific name is Lophophora williamsii. It grows underground, and only its crown is visible at the surface. Its strong, bitter taste keeps most animals from eating it, but the Huichol, an indigenous Mexican tribe, uses it as a sacrament and to induce hallucinations during religious rites.The Huichol believe the cactus helps them gain healing skills and communicate with their gods, according to Dr. Jay Fikes, a retired professor of anthropology at Yeditepe University, in Istanbul. As animists, they believe that all living things have a soul, so the peyote plant itself has a spirit and wisdom to impart. But why does it get you high? Dr. John Halpern, assistant professor of Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School and probably the most notable doctor researching peyote today, said that the cactus "contains mescaline, which is a classical psychedelic ethylamine hallucinogen."Peyote was first identified and studied by Western doctors in the late 1890s, but it was made illegal in the US in 1970 with the Comprehensive Drug Abuse Prevention and Control Act, which concluded that it serves no medicinal purpose. Under Mexican law, it's illegal for anyone other than the Huichol to dig up or possess it. But that hasn't stopped a tourist trade from springing up around the plant.
Huichol Indian yarn painting by Jose Benitez Sanchez, based on a vision triggered by peyote. Photo via Flickr user Lynn (Gracie's mom)Real de Catorce, which has long been the site of Huichol peyote rituals, has become the center of the psychedelic cactus trade and a pilgrimage destination for would-be psychonauts. Once a nearly abandoned silver mining town, Real de Catorce (usually just called "Real" and pronounced "ray- ahl") sits on a 9,000-foot plateau in northern San Luis Potosí state. Its population plummeted from 40,000 in the late 1800s (when silver mining was in its heyday) to fewer than 1,000 full-time residents after the silver crash of 1893.The town offers never-ending desert views and Old West–style buildings both restored and abandoned. But few people come to Real to enjoy the scenery. They're here to trip balls on the local cactus. In recent years Real's unique tourism industry has been written up everywhere from NPR to National Geographic, and trade from the cactus eaters helps support the local cafés, hotels, and bars.Real and peyote first began to gain worldwide recognition among druggie experimentalists after the publication of anthropologist, author, and New Age teacher Carlos Castaneda's The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge in 1968.In the book, Castaneda claims he studied with a Yaqui indian shaman who showed him how to use peyote to explore "a separate reality" and uncover truths about modern society and unhappiness. Included in his writings are fantastical tales about talking to coyotes, becoming a crow, and learning to fly. These fantastical stories have caused many mainstream scholars to dismiss his work, but they understandably piqued a lot of interest among people who really want to become crows and soar over the desert.Luis and I had our hearts set on checking it out. So a few days after he told me about all this, we hopped into his ten-year-old shitty white hatchback and hit the road to Real.The last two hours of the trip required driving along the world's bumpiest, dustiest 17-mile-long cobblestone road at ten miles an hour to avoid fucking up the bottom of our car. So much dust rose from the road that we could barely see.After that spine-jarring hell, we lined up and waited outside of a mile-and-a-half-long tunnel that can only accommodate one car at a time. That tunnel, called "Ogarrio," passes through a mountain and is the only way into Real by car.Real's main drag boasts a set of varied subcultures mixing and mingling on the dusty street. Old guys with gray beards and psychedelic theories rub shoulders with Mexican teenagers from the city on party weekends who take mescal shots with bros who got bored with the beach in Tulum. The visitors rent guesthouses in Real for a few days or take apartments and stay for months, trekking in and out of the desert to eat peyote with notions of being on a spiritual journey.You can buy cactus from someone in town or try all sorts of peyote jellies, drinks, and salves that may or may not get you high. But the real point of a trip to Real is to go out into the desert and dig it up yourself.The desert surrounding the town, especially in the Station 14 area, is where most of the peyote grows. It takes an hour by vehicle but is too steep of a descent for a normal car.For $10, we caught a ride on a "willy," which looks like a Range Rover but functions like a bus. Eight passengers can fit inside and another eight on the roof. It's safer inside, but the view and breeze are better from the top. We rode on top and ooh'ed and ah'ed at the panoramic views and dead burros along the side of the dirt road.On the trip, I talked to people who had been planning to visit this desert for years and had encyclopedic knowledge of peyote and the Huichol. There were also others (like me) who were in Mexico traveling, heard about the peyote in the desert, and thought they'd check it out.The willy dropped us off and everyone scattered. So there we were, Luis and I alone in the Mexican desert, when we realized we didn't know what we were looking for.We thought it would be obvious what to do once we got there, but that wasn't the case. We had no tools, no supplies, and no clue. "Uh, do you know what peyote looks like?" I said."No, do you?" he replied."Nope," I said. "Is your phone working?""No. Shiiit," said Luis.Since it's illegal for visitors to dig up peyote, the drivers won't give you any information—in fact, they pretend they have no idea why you might be schlepping out into the desert.We wandered around for a while feeling stupid. Then we saw a big guy wearing mirrored sunglasses who was brushing the ground with some sticks. Hisname was Leon, and he owned a hostel in Monterrey. He came out to the Chihuahuan Desert regularly to dig up peyote to sell to his guests. Like a true drug buddy, he gave us a tutorial on unearthing natural hallucinogens. The young ones are about the size of a golf ball and may be five to ten years old. Mature ones are about the size of a baseball and may be up to 20 years old. The bigger cacti are easier to find, but the locals say that the smaller ones are more potent.At first, Leon was pointing peyote out everywhere while simply scanning the ground with his eyes. Luis and I were on our hands and knees and still didn't see anything. Once we found a crown, he showed us how to sweep away the dirt and loosen the cactus gently with a small knife. It isn't possible to dig these up with your hands since the ground is really hard and dry. Peyote is buried between one and three inches deep. When Leon lifted the cactus out of the dirt, he kept it in one piece and left the root intact so that the plant could regenerate. Once he removed the cactus, he recovered the root with soil. This was important because these cacti in Real are being harvested far faster than they can grow.Leon told us not to peel it and clean it until we were ready to eat it because it dries out quickly. Once you peel it, the inside looks green, shiny, and wet with a color and texture similar to a green bell pepper.After we removed the hard skin and rinsed the flesh with water, Leon prepared us by saying the taste was "way worse than shrooms." But after eating the first one, I didn't think it was that bad. Unlike magic mushrooms, it didn't smell or taste like shit. It just tasted bitter. However, it did give me the driest mouth of my life.I ate the peyote on an empty stomach since I wanted to have the strongest experience possible. Leon said that, to have a great trip, you need to eat eight to a dozen "buttons." After choking back my dozen, I felt completely stuffed.I knew I was tripping when I heard Luis or Leon speak and I had to think deeply about what they were saying and what to say back. Luckily, we weren't talking much. But everything was amplified. I was thirstier, the desert was hotter, and the ground was harder. It was easy for me to imagine how peyote could enhance a religious experience.Dr. Halpern told me that the cactus "probably works similar to other hallucinogens. It is thought to affect a serotonin receptor called 5-HT2A, which is a partial agonist. That particular serotonin receptor has three switches: off, on, and on-with-psychedelic-effects. We believe that functionality is the necessary component for psychedelic experience. The half-life of that effect will last eight to 12 hours at a full dose, which is 400 milligrams of peyote that has a one to three percent mescaline content.""On peyote, your emotions are raw," Dr. Fikes said. He recalled seeing a bull sacrificed during a religious ritual while on peyote and found himself actually unable to breathe.
Chemical structureof mescaline, the primary psychoactive compound in peyote. Image by Wikimedia user CacycleFor six hours, the peyote came over me in waves.At times I felt mildly sick but that could have been due to heat or dehydration as much as the peyote. When the feelings were strongest, I had the familiar mind-twitch I often associate with psychedelics. I thought I could hear the emptiness of the desert.The first few hours took on a dreamy quality and I was unable to focus fully on anything. The later hours were more lucid and the the experience had no sharply defined start, peak, or end. I still felt the dreamy, drifting effects of it the next day.The willy back to Real was nearly empty, so we laid down on the roof and stared at the sky while holding onto the rack. My body was super relaxed and I had no interest in talking. I felt like I was getting sunburned, but I didn't care to do anything about it. It was hard to focus on any one topic for more than a few minutes.I hated when we got back to town and had to leave the good, chilled-out vibes we had on top of the truck. We exchanged info with Leon and he invited us to come stay at his hostel sometime soon. It sounded cool, but I knew we would never see him again.After several hours of wandering around the ruins of Real, we decided we had come down to head back to Mexico City. We had dug up some extra peyote to bring back with us but, at some point, Luis—whose idea it was to come out to the desert and eat peyote in the first place—became concerned that we might get pulled over by the cops.So he made me toss my last few buttons out the window. Religious experience or not, I guess peyote can make you a little bit paranoid too.Follow Laurel Tuohy on Twitter.MOST POPULAR
Teachings-Don-Juan-Yaqui-Knowledge
'via Blog this' Carlos Castaneda From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia Carlos Castaneda Cc1962.JPG Carlos Castaneda 1962 Born Unclear: conflicting data. Died 27/04/1998 Los Angeles, California, U.S. Occupation Author Nationality American Period 20th-century Subject Anthropology/Ethnography/Shamanism Carlos Castaneda (Birthdate unclear – died April 27, 1998), [1] was an American author with a Ph.D. in anthropology. Starting with The Teachings of Don Juan in 1968, Castaneda wrote a series of books that describe his training in shamanism, particularly a group that he called the Toltecs. The books, narrated in the first person, relate his experiences under the tutelage of a Yaqui "Man of Knowledge" named Don Juan Matus. His 12 books have sold more than 28 million copies in 17 languages. Critics have suggested that they are works of fiction; supporters claim the books are either true or at least valuable works of philosophy and descriptions of practices which enable an increased awareness. Castaneda withdrew from public view in 1973 to work further on his inner development, living in a large house with three women who he called "Fellow Travellers of Awareness", and who were ready to cut their ties to family and changed their names. He founded Cleargreen, an organization that promoted tensegrity, purportedly a traditional Toltec regimen of spiritually powerful exercises. Contents [hide] 1 Early life 2 Career 3 Death 4 Companions 5 Reception 6 Related authors 7 Bibliography 8 See also 9 Footnotes 10 References 11 Further reading 12 External links Early life[edit] He moved to the United States in the early 1950s and became a naturalized citizen in 1957. Castaneda was educated at UCLA (B.A. 1962; Ph.D. 1973).[2] Career[edit] Castaneda's first three books – The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge; A Separate Reality; and Journey to Ixtlan – were written while he was an anthropology student at the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA). He wrote these books as his research log describing his apprenticeship with a traditional "Man of Knowledge" identified as don Juan Matus, a Yaqui Indian from northern Mexico. Castaneda was awarded his bachelor's and doctoral degrees based on the work described in these books. In 1974 his fourth book, Tales of Power, was published and chronicled the end of his apprenticeship under the tutelage of Matus. Castaneda continued to be popular with the reading public with subsequent publications. In his books, Castaneda narrates in first person the events leading to and following after his meeting Matus, a half-Yaqui "Man of Knowledge", in 1960. Castaneda's experiences with Matus inspired the works for which he is known. He also says the sorcerer bequeathed him the position of nagual, or leader of a party of seers. He also used the term "nagual" to signify that part of perception which is in the realm of the unknown yet still reachable by man, implying that, for his party of seers, Don Juan was a connection in some way to that unknown. Castaneda often referred to this unknown realm as nonordinary reality. The term "nagual" has been used by anthropologists to mean a shaman or sorcerer who claims to be able to change into an animal form, or to metaphorically "shift" into another form through magic rituals, shamanism and experiences with psychoactive drugs (e.g., peyote and jimson weed – Datura stramonium).[3] In all,12 books by Castaneda were published, two posthumously. Castaneda was the subject of a cover article in the March 5, 1973 issue of Time.[4] The article described him as "an enigma wrapped in a mystery". When confronted by correspondent Sandra Burton about discrepancies in his personal history, Castaneda responded by saying: "To ask me to verify my life by giving you my statistics... is like using science to validate sorcery. It robs the world of its magic and makes milestones out of us all." The interviewer wrote: "Castaneda makes the reader experience the pressure of mysterious winds and the shiver of leaves at twilight, the hunter's peculiar alertness to sound and smell, the rock-bottom scrubbiness of Indian life, the raw fragrance of tequila and the vile, fibrous taste of peyote, the dust in the car, and the loft of a crow's flight. It is a superbly concrete setting, dense with animistic meaning. This is just as well, in view of the utter weirdness of the events that happen in it." Following that interview, Castaneda retired from public view. In the 1990s, Castaneda once again began appearing in public to promote Tensegrity, a group of movements that he claimed had been passed down by 25 generations of Toltec shamans. On 16 June 1995, articles of incorporation executed by George Short were filed to create Cleargreen Incorporated. The Cleargreen statement of purpose says in part: "Cleargreen is a corporation that has a twofold purpose. First, it sponsors and organizes seminars and workshops on Carlos Castaneda's Tensegrity, and second, it is a publishing house." Cleargreen published three videos of Tensegrity movements while Castaneda was alive. Castaneda himself did not appear in these videos. Death[edit] Castaneda died on April 27, 1998 in Los Angeles due to complications from hepatocellular cancer. There was no public service; Castaneda was cremated and the ashes were sent to Mexico. It was unknown until nearly two months later, on 19 June 1998, when an obituary entitled "A Hushed Death for Mystic Author Carlos Castaneda" by staff writer J. R. Moehringer appeared in the Los Angeles Times.[5] Four months after Castaneda's death, C. J. Castaneda, also known as Adrian Vashon, whose birth certificate shows Carlos Castaneda as his father, challenged Castaneda's will in probate court. Carlos' death certificate states metabolic encephalopathy for 72 hours prior to his death, yet the will was supposedly signed 48 hours before Castaneda's death.[not in citation given] CJ challenged its authenticity. The challenge was ultimately unsuccessful.[6] The New York Times, upon his death, said of "his dubious biography and shaman like tales" that "[f]ew academics regard them as serious scholarship."[6] Companions[edit] After Castaneda stepped away from public view in 1973, he bought a large[7] house in Los Angeles[8] which he shared with three of his female companions. The women broke off relationships with friends and family when they joined Castaneda's group. They also refused to be photographed and took new names: Regina Thal became Florinda Donner-Grau, Maryann Simko became Taisha Abelar and Kathleen Pohlman became Carol Tiggs. In the early 1990s, Florinda Donner-Grau and Taisha Abelar published two books purporting to describe their experiences with Don Juan and his party. Together with Carol Tiggs, they appeared and sometimes lectured at many of the Tensegrity workshops that began in July 1993, and Donner-Grau and Abelar appeared at book signings and gave occasional lectures and radio interviews as well. Shortly after Castaneda died, Donner-Grau and Abelar disappeared, along with Patricia Partin. Amalia Marquez (also known as Talia Bey) and Tensegrity instructor Kylie Lundahl had their phones disconnected and also disappeared. On August 2, 1998, Carol spoke at a workshop in Ontario. Because the women had cut all ties with family and friends, it was some time before people noticed they were missing. There has been no official investigation into the disappearances of Donner-Grau, Simko and Lundahl. Luis Marquez, the brother of Talia Bey, went to police in 1999 over his sister's disappearance, but was unable to convince them that her disappearance merited investigation.[citation needed] Reception[edit] Despite the widespread popularity of his works, some critics questioned the validity of Castaneda's books as early as 1969. In a series of articles, international banker and amateur mycologist R. Gordon Wasson, who had originally praised Castaneda's work, questioned the accuracies of Castaneda's botanical claims.[9] In 1976, author and Scientologist Richard de Mille published Castaneda's Journey: The Power and the Allegory, in which he argued, "Logical or chronological errors in the narrative constitute the best evidence that Castaneda's books are works of fiction. If no one has discovered these errors before, the reason must be that no one has listed the events of the first three books in sequence. Once that has been done, the errors are unmistakable."[10] On these showings de Mille asserts, The Teachings of Don Juan and Journey to Ixtlan (his third book) cannot both be factual reports.[11] For his part, Castaneda in the introduction to A Separate Reality, his second book, addressed the incomprehensible nature of his experiences as only being able to be understood in the context of the alien system of perception from which they arose, suggesting that his books are by their very nature contradictory and incomprehensible (as to time and place especially) to academic and critical inquiry. In a 1968 radio interview[12] with Theodore Roszak, Castaneda, while confirming that his mystical experiences were absolutely true to life, did explain that he took some chronological license in his writing about actual events: "The way the books present it seems to heighten some dramatic sequences, which is, I'm afraid, not true to real life. There are enormous gaps in between in which ordinary things took place, that are not included. I didn't include in the book because they did not pertain to the system I wanted to portray, so I just simply took them away, you see. And that means that the gaps between those very heightened states, you know, whatever, says that I remove things that are continuous crescendos, in kind of sequence leading to a very dramatic solution. But in real life it was a very simple matter because it took years between, months pass in between them, and in the meantime we did all kinds of things. We even went hunting. He (Don Juan) told me how to trap things, set traps, very old, old ways of setting a trap, and how to catch rattlesnakes. He told me how to prepare rattlesnakes, in fact. And so that eases up, you see, the distrust or the fear." At first, and with the backing of academic qualifications and the UCLA anthropological department, Castaneda's work was critically acclaimed. Notable anthropologists like Edward Spicer (1969) and Edmund Leach (1969)[13] praised Castaneda, alongside more alternative and young anthropologists. The authenticity of Don Juan was accepted for six years, until Richard de Mille and Daniel Noel both published their critical exposés of the Don Juan books in 1976. Most anthropologists had been convinced of Castaneda's authenticity until then – indeed, they had had little reason to question it – but some averred that de Mille's analysis disproved the veracity of Castaneda's work. Later anthropologists specializing in Yaqui Indian culture (William Curry Holden, Jane Holden Kelley and Edward H. Spicer), who originally supported Castaneda's account as true, questioned the accuracies of Castaneda's work.[14] Others[who?] (including Dr. Clement Meighan) point out that the books largely, and for the most part, do not pretend to describe Yaqui culture at all with its emphasis on Catholic upbringing and conflict with the Federal State of Mexico, but rather focus on the international movements and life of Don Juan who was described in the books as traveling and having many connections, and abodes, in the Southwestern United States (Arizona), Northern Mexico, and Oaxaca. Don Juan was described in the books as a shaman steeped in a mostly lost Toltec philosophy and decidedly anti-Catholic. Dr. Clement Meighan, one of Castaneda's professors at UCLA, and an acknowledged expert on Indian culture in the U.S., Mexico, and other areas in North America, up to his death, never doubted that Castaneda's work was based upon authentic contact with and observations of Indians. Later, Miguel Ruiz also verified the existence of Indian "Brujos" in Mexico with native teachings much like Don Juan's. A March 5, 1973 Time article by Sandra Burton, looking at both sides of the controversy, stated: ...the more worldly claim to importance of Castaneda's books: to wit, that they are anthropology, a specific and truthful account of an aspect of Mexican Indian culture as shown by the speech and actions of one person, a shaman named Juan Matus. That proof hinges on the credibility of Don Juan as a being and Carlos Castaneda as a witness. Yet there is no corroboration beyond Castaneda's writings that Don Juan did what he is said to have done, and very little that he exists at all. A strong case can be made that the Don Juan books are of a different order of truthfulness from Castaneda's pre-Don Juan past. Where, for example, was the motive for an elaborate scholarly put-on? The Teachings were submitted to a university press, an unlikely prospect for best-sellerdom. Besides, getting an anthropology degree from U.C.L.A. is not so difficult that a candidate would employ so vast a confabulation just to avoid research. A little fudging perhaps, but not a whole system in the manner of The Teachings, written by an unknown student with, at the outset, no hope of commercial success.[4] David Silverman sees value in the work even while considering it fictional. In Reading Castaneda he describes the apparent deception as a critique of anthropology field work in general – a field that relies heavily on personal experience, and necessarily views other cultures through a lens. According to Silverman, not only the descriptions of peyote trips but also the fictional nature of the work are meant to place doubt on other works of anthropology.[15] Donald Wieve cites Castaneda to explain the insider/outsider problem as it relates to mystical experiences, while acknowledging the fictional nature of his work.[16] Related authors[edit] Two other authors, Taisha Abelar and Florinda Donner-Grau, wrote books in which they claimed to be from Matus' party of Toltec warriors. Both Abelar and Donner-Grau were endorsed by Castaneda as being legitimate students of Matus, whereas he dismissed all other writers as pretenders. The two women were part of Castaneda's inner circle, which he referred to as "The Brujas," and both assumed different names as part of their dedication to their new beliefs. They were originally both graduate students in anthropology at UCLA. Felix Wolf, one of Carlos Castaneda's apprentices and translators, wrote The Art of Navigation: Travels with Carlos Castaneda and Beyond. In his book Wolf details how his life had been transformed by his association with Castaneda. While touching on all aspects of the teachings, Wolf highlights what he perceives to be the overriding and essential transmission that came through Castaneda's work: The Art of Navigation. Amy Wallace wrote Sorcerer's Apprentice: My Life with Carlos Castaneda,[17] an account of her personal experiences with Castaneda and his followers. In Carlos Castaneda e a Fenda entre os Mundos – Vislumbres da Filosofia Ānahuacah no Século XXI Brazilian writer Luis Carlos de Morais analyzes the work of Carlos Castaneda, its cultural implications, and its continuation in other authors. Sanchez's first book, The Teachings of Don Carlos: Practical Applications of the Works of Carlos Castaneda (1995), provides in-depth techniques and commentary on a path of "self-growth" based on the wisdom of the Toltec descendants. His approach in this book is bringing the proposals of Castaneda down to the earth focusing on those parts of Castaneda's book that can be applied in everyday life and used for personal development. Sanchez has published three further books: Toltecs of the New Millennium (1996), providing an overview of and background on the author's experiences with the Wirrarika; The Toltec Path of Recapitulation: Healing Your Past to Free Your Soul (2001); and The Toltec Oracle (2004). Sanchez's recapitulation technique bears some resemblance to Sandra Ingerman's soul retrieval technique, but is probably the most comprehensive approach to the subject that has been published so far. Other shamanic teachers using similar techniques include Michael Harner, PhD founder of "core shamanism", and Ken Page, founder of Heart and Soul Healing. Some have associated Sanchez's work with Toltec author Don Miguel Ruiz, author of The Four Agreements. Bibliography[edit] Main article: Carlos Castaneda bibliography The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge, 1968. ISBN 0-520-21757-8. (Summer 1960 to October 1965.) A Separate Reality: Further Conversations with Don Juan, 1971. ISBN 0-671-73249-8. (April 1968 to October 1970.) Journey to Ixtlan: The Lessons of Don Juan, 1972. ISBN 0-671-73246-3. (Summer 1960 to May 1971.) Tales of Power, 1974. ISBN 0-671-73252-8. (Autumn 1971 to the 'Final Meeting' with don Juan Matus in 1973.) The Second Ring of Power, 1977. ISBN 0-671-73247-1. (Meeting his fellow apprentices after the 'Final Meeting'.) The Eagle's Gift, 1981. ISBN 0-671-73251-X. (Continuing with his fellow apprentices; and then alone with La Gorda.) The Fire From Within, 1984. ISBN 0-671-73250-1. (Don Juan's 'Second Attention' teachings through to the 'Final Meeting' in 1973.) The Power of Silence: Further Lessons of Don Juan, 1987. ISBN 0-671-73248-X. (The 'Abstract Cores' of don Juan's lessons.) The Art of Dreaming, 1993. ISBN 0-06-092554-X. (Review of don Juan's lessons in dreaming.) Magical Passes: The Practical Wisdom of the Shamans of Ancient Mexico, 1998. ISBN 0-06-017584-2. (Body movements for breaking the barriers of normal perception.) The Wheel of Time: Shamans of Ancient Mexico, Their Thoughts About Life, Death and the Universe, 1998. ISBN 0-9664116-0-9. (Selected quotations from the first eight books.) The Active Side of Infinity, 1999. ISBN 0-06-019220-8. (Memorable events of his life.) See also[edit] Lucid dream Neoshamanism New Age Toltec (Castaneda) William Patrick Patterson Marlo Morgan Footnotes[edit] Jump up ^ The Scribner Encyclopedia of American Lives, Volume 5: 1997–1999. Charles Scribner's Sons, 2002. Jump up ^ De Mille (1976) Jump up ^ Castaneda, C: The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge, pp. 88–120, Washington Square Press Publication, 1968 paperback ISBN 0-671-60041-9 ^ Jump up to: a b Burton, Sandra; et al. (March 5, 1973). "Don Juan and the Sorcerer's Apprentice". Time 101 (10). Retrieved 2011-12-23. Jump up ^ Castaneda Obituary All Things Considered, June 19, 1998 ^ Jump up to: a b "Mystery Man's Death Can't End the Mystery; Fighting Over Carlos Castaneda's Legacy" by Peter Applebome, NY Times, August 19, 1998, retrieved September 3, 2008 Jump up ^ Castaneda house SOLD, This Multi-Family Home located at 10429 Eastborne Avenue, Los Angeles CA sold for $1,200,000 on Apr 30, 2009 Jump up ^ 10429 Eastborne Avenue, Los Angeles, CA - Google Maps Jump up ^ Wasson, R. Gordon. 1969. (Bk. Rev.). Economic Botany vol. 23(2):197. A review of Carlos Castaneda's "The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge.", Wasson, R. Gordon. 1972a. (Bk. Rev.). Economic Botany vol. 26(1):98–99. A review of Carlos Castaneda's "A Separate Reality: Further Conversations with Don Juan."; Wasson, R. Gordon. 1973a. (Bk. Rev.). Economic Botany vol. 27(1):151–152. A review of Carlos Castaneda's "Journey to Ixtlan: The Lessons of Don Juan."; Wasson, R. Gordon. . 1974. (Bk. Rev.). Economic Botany vol. 28(3):245–246. A review of Carlos Castaneda's "Tales of Power".; Wasson, R. Gordon. . 1977a. (Mag., Bk. Rev). Head vol. 2(4):52–53, 88–94. November. Jump up ^ De Mille (1976), p. 166 Jump up ^ De Mille (1976), pp. 170–171 Jump up ^ Roszak, Theodore (30 January 1969). "DON JUAN THE SORCERER - Carlos Castaneda interview". KPFA, Pacifica Radio Archive,. Retrieved 23 January 2013.
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