The Power of Silence (3 page)

But strangely
I felt irrationally secure and happy there. A sensation of physical contentment
made my entire body tingle. I actually felt the most agreeable, the most
delectable, sensation in my stomach. It was as if my nerves were being tickled.

"I
don't feel ill at ease," I commented.

"Neither
do I," he said. "Which only means that you and I aren't that far
temperamentally from those old sorcerers of the past; something which worries
me no end."

I was
afraid to pursue that subject any further, so I waited for him to talk.

"The
first sorcery story I am going to tell you is called "The Manifestations
of the Spirit"," don Juan began, "but don't let the title
mystify you. The manifestations of the spirit is only the first abstract core
around which the first sorcery story is built.

"That
first abstract core is a story in itself," he went on. "The story
says that once upon a time there was a man, an average man without any special
attributes. He was, like everyone else, a conduit for the spirit. And by virtue
of that, like everyone else, he was part of the spirit, part of the abstract.
But he didn't know it. The world kept him so busy that he had neither the time
nor the inclination really to examine the matter.

"The
spirit tried, uselessly, to reveal their connection. Using an inner voice, the
spirit disclosed its secrets, but the man was incapable of understanding the
revelations. Naturally, he heard the inner voice, but he believed it to be his
own feelings he was feeling and his own thoughts he was thinking.

"The
spirit, in order to shake him out of his slumber, gave him three signs, three
successive manifestations. The spirit physically crossed the man's path in the
most obvious manner. But the man was oblivious to anything but his
self-concern."

Don Juan
stopped and looked at me as he did whenever he was waiting for my comments and
questions. I had nothing to say. I did not understand the point he was trying
to make.

"I've
just told you the first abstract core," he continued. "The only other
thing I could add is that because of the man's absolute unwillingness to
understand, the spirit was forced to use trickery. And trickery became the
essence of the sorcerers' path. But that is another story."

Don Juan
explained that sorcerers understood this abstract core to be a blueprint for
events, or a recurrent pattern that appeared every time intent was giving an
indication of something meaningful. Abstract cores, then, were blueprints of
complete chains of events.

He assured
me that by means beyond comprehension, every detail of every abstract core
reoccurred to every apprentice nagual. He further assured me that he had helped
intent to involve me in all the abstract cores of sorcery in the same manner
that his benefactor, the nagual Julian and all the naguals before him, had involved
their apprentices. The process by which each apprentice nagual encountered the
abstract cores created a series of accounts woven around those abstract cores
incorporating the particular details of each apprentice's personality and
circumstances.

He said,
for example, that I had my own story about the manifestations of the spirit, he
had his, his benefactor had his own, so had the nagual that preceded him, and
so on, and so forth.

"What
is my story about the manifestations of the spirit?" I asked, somewhat
mystified.

"If
any warrior is aware of his stories it's you," he replied. "After
all, you've been writing about them for years. But you didn't notice the
abstract cores because you are a practical man. You do everything only for the
purpose of enhancing your practicality. Although you handled your stories to
exhaustion you had no idea that there was an abstract core in them. Everything
I've done appears to you, therefore, as an often-whimsical practical activity:
teaching sorcery to a reluctant and, most of the time, stupid, apprentice. As
long as you see it in those terms, the abstract cores will elude you."

"You
must forgive me, don Juan," I said, "but your statements are very
confusing. What are you saying?"

"I'm
trying to introduce the sorcery stories as a subject," he replied.
"I've never talked to you specifically about this topic because
traditionally it's left hidden. It is the spirit's last artifice. It is said
that when the apprentice understands the abstract cores it's like the placing
of the stone that caps and seals a pyramid."

It was
getting dark and it looked as though it was about to rain again. I worried that
if the wind blew from east to west while it was raining, we were going to get
soaked in that cave. I was sure don Juan was aware of that, but he seemed to
ignore it.

"It
won't rain again until tomorrow morning," he said.

Hearing my
inner thoughts being answered made me jump involuntarily and hit the top of my
head on the cave roof. It was a thud that sounded worse than it felt.

Don Juan
held his sides laughing. After a while my head really began to hurt and I had
to massage it.

"Your
company is as enjoyable to me as mine must have been to my benefactor," he
said and began to laugh again.

We were
quiet for a few minutes. The silence around me was ominous. I fancied that I
could hear the rustling of the low clouds as they descended on us from the
higher mountains. Then I realized that what I was hearing was the soft wind.
From my position in the shallow cave, it sounded like the whispering of human
voices.

"I had
the incredible good luck to be taught by two naguals," don Juan said and
broke the mesmeric grip the wind had on me at that moment. "One was, of
course, my benefactor, the nagual Julian, and the other was his benefactor, the
nagual Elias. My case was unique."

"Why
was your case unique?" I asked.

"Because
for generations naguals have gathered their apprentices years after their own
teachers have left the world," he explained. "Except my benefactor. I
became the nagual Julian's apprentice eight years before his benefactor left
the world. I had eight years' grace. It was the luckiest thing that could have
happened to me, for I had the opportunity to be taught by two opposite
temperaments. It was like being reared by a powerful father and an even more
powerful grandfather who don't see eye to eye. In such a contest, the
grandfather always wins. So I'm properly the product of the nagual Elias's
teachings. I was closer to him not only in temperament but also in looks. I'd
say that I owe him my fine tuning. However, the bulk of the work that went into
turning me from a miserable being into an impeccable warrior I owe to my
benefactor, the nagual Julian."

"What
was the nagual Julian like physically?" I asked.

"Do
you know that to this day it's hard for me to visualize him?" don Juan
said. "I know that sounds absurd, but depending on his needs or the
circumstances, he could be either young or old, handsome or homely, effete and
weak or strong and virile, fat or slender, of medium height or extremely
short."

"Do
you mean he was an actor acting out different roles with the aid of
props?"

"No,
there were no props involved and he was not merely an actor. He was, of course,
a great actor in his own right, but that is different. The point is that he was
capable of transforming himself and becoming all those diametrically opposed
persons. Being a great actor enabled him to portray all the minute
peculiarities of behavior that made each specific being real. Let us say that
he was at ease in every change of being. As you are at ease in every change of
clothes."

Eagerly, I
asked don Juan to tell me more about his benefactor's transformations. He said
that someone taught him how to elicit those transformations, but that to
explain any further would force him to overlap into different stories.

"What
did the nagual Julian look like when he wasn't transforming himself?" I
asked.

"Let's
say that before he became a nagual he was very slim and muscular," don
Juan said. "His hair was black, thick, and wavy. He had a long, fine nose,
strong big white teeth, an oval face, strong jaw, and shiny dark-brown eyes. He
was about five feet eight inches tall. He was not Indian or even a brown
Mexican, but he was not Anglo white either. In fact, his complexion seemed to be
like no one else's, especially in his later years when his ever-changing
complexion shifted constantly from dark to very light and back again to dark.
When I first met him he was a light-brown old man, then as time went by, he
became a light-skinned young man, perhaps only a few years older than me. I was
twenty at that time.

"But
if the changes of his outer appearance were astonishing," don Juan went
on, "the changes of mood and behavior that accompanied each transformation
were even more astonishing. For example, when he was a fat young man, he was
jolly and sensual. When he was a skinny old man, he was petty and vindictive.
When he was a fat old man, he was the greatest imbecile there was."

"Was
he ever himself?" I asked.

"Not
the way I am myself," he replied. "Since I'm not interested in
transformation I am always the same. But he was not like me at all." Don
Juan looked at me as if he were assessing my inner strength. He smiled, shook
his head from side to side and broke into a belly laugh.

"What's
so funny, don Juan?" I asked.

"The
fact is that you're still too prudish and stiff to appreciate fully the nature
of my benefactor's transformations and their total scope," he said.
"I only hope that when I tell you about them you don't become morbidly
obsessed."

For some
reason I suddenly became quite uncomfortable and had to change the subject.
"Why are the naguals called 'benefactors' and not simply teachers?" I
asked nervously. "Calling a nagual a benefactor is a gesture his
apprentices make," don Juan said. "A nagual creates an overwhelming
feeling of gratitude in his disciples. After all, a nagual molds them and guides
them through unimaginable areas."

I remarked
that to teach was in my opinion the greatest, most altruistic act anyone could
perform for another.

"For
you, teaching is talking about patterns," he said. "For a sorcerer,
to teach is what a nagual does for his apprentices. For them he taps the
prevailing force in the universe: intent - the force that changes and reorders
things or keeps them as they are. The nagual formulates, then guides the
consequences that that force can have on his disciples. Without the nagual's
molding intent there would be no awe, no wonder for them. And his apprentices,
instead of embarking on a magical journey of discovery, would only be learning
a trade: healer, sorcerer, diviner, charlatan, or whatever."

"Can
you explain intent to me?" I asked.

"The
only way to know intent" he replied, "is to know it directly through
a living connection that exists between intent and all sentient beings.
Sorcerers call intent the indescribable, the spirit, the abstract, the nagual.
I would prefer to call it nagual, but it overlaps with the name for the leader,
the benefactor, who is also called nagual, so I have opted for calling it the spirit,
intent, the abstract."

Don Juan
stopped abruptly and recommended that I keep quiet and think about what he had
told me. By then it was very dark. The silence was so profound that instead of
lulling me into a restful state, it agitated me. I could not maintain order in
my thoughts. I tried to focus my attention on the story he had told me, but
instead I thought of everything else, until finally I fell asleep.

I had no
way of telling how long I slept in that cave. Don Juan's voice startled me and
I awoke. He was saying that the first sorcery story concerning the
manifestations of the spirit was an account of the relationship between intent
and the nagual. It was the story of how the spirit set up a lure for the nagual,
a prospective disciple, and of how the nagual had to evaluate the lure before
making his decision either to accept or reject it. It was very dark in the
cave, and the small space was confining. Ordinarily an area of that size would
have made me claustrophobic, but the cave kept soothing me, dispelling my
feelings of annoyance. Also, something in the configuration of the cave
absorbed the echoes of don Juan's words.

Don Juan
explained that every act performed by sorcerers, especially by the naguals, was
either performed as a way to strengthen their link with intent or as a response
triggered by the link itself. Sorcerers, and specifically the naguals,
therefore had to be actively and permanently on the lookout for manifestations
of the spirit. Such manifestations were called gestures of the spirit or, more
simply, indications or omens.

He repeated
a story he had already told me; the story of how he had met his benefactor, the
nagual Julian.

Don Juan
had been cajoled by two crooked men to take a job on an isolated hacienda. One
of the men, the foreman of the hacienda, simply took possession of don Juan and
in effect made him a slave.

Desperate
and with no other course of action, don Juan escaped. The violent foreman
chased him and caught him on a country road where he shot don Juan in the chest
and left him for dead.