Then came the year when I found, now it’s time to do my own Sorcerer’s Crossing.
It’s the final exercise, by what Carlos Castaneda finished his apprenticeship. Don Juan let him jump down from a cliff, and Castaneda had to prove, that he was able to transport himself, including body and stuff, to another place before hitting the ground and being scraped off the rock.
Sorta master’s certificate, and Castaneda made it. Of course, otherwise he wouldn’t have been in the position to write about it. In the end Don Juan was waiting till he’d returned safely, then they parted, and then, like I said, Don Juan was gone.
With me this procedure was completely different, I didn’t jump off a cliff. I found myself in a dream sequence, where I walked through the ruins of a 12.000 years old pyramid near Lake Titicaca. I pored through their architecture and mathematics and found out, their groundplan form was fitting in my living-room true to scale.
According to instructions from these dreams I began to rearrange the room and to paint on the walls. It was like time travel, 12.000 years back, those ruins were mounting into an animated temple.
The jewel in the crown was a painted door on the western wall, into the bargain I attached a curtain rail and heavy red velvet curtains in front of it.
Well, in my case the Sorcerer’s Crossing implied walking through this door. Sober, without any drugs and with my complete physical body. Merely on my will.
This won’t work? Well, those days Arnaud saw this eye to eye, even so he was half-heartedly listening. Somehow he found it fascinating, but somehow dealing in it was too tiring for him. He was lacking in energy to think outside the box.
But my living-room was bursting with energy that time. You could feel it crackle and prickle, when you entered the room, and the door was emanating kinda magnetic attraction. So for me there was no way back, this enterprise already had the same qualities like a jump off the cliffs.
One day Arnaud came in and ran purposefully into the door and dashed against the wall. He was totally shocked, but soon he had pushed this incident to the back of his mind. As yet we’d been living in a sound relationship.
I went through this door on July 4, 1995. What happened on the other side, I haven’t got it quite straight in my head. However, I remember it was a link to Tabitha what made me return. And I had been on fire. And there had been a trick to extinguish the fire. A trick I had learned from Taisha Abelar, one of the companions of Castaneda. But how, when and why – no idea. Well, I gotta work this out.
When the fire was extinguished, I crashed onto the floor in my living-room pretty ungently. TV was on, the evening news, the Tagesschau, and to my horror I noticed the date on the screen. It was July 8, 1995.
My bones were nothing but pain, then in the bathroom I saw it to the whole extent: I was covered all over with burn blisters. On my head, face, breast and arms! This was no dream! I didn’t doubt it. But the rest of the world would do.
Klaus came giving me first aid, he cut my hair off and shaved my head bald very carefully. Don’t touch the blisters, avoid infection. The first time I stayed at home and got my food delivered.
Then came Arnaud, as far as the apartement door and no further. When I opened the door he run off screaming. He didn’t talk with me for months, he was just scared.
Much later we came together again, it was because of little Mireille, she was crying all the time and asking for me. So he brought her to my house or let me in at his place, but our relationship had damages that couldn’t get fixed anymore. Arnaud was evading and left me alone.
Over time food per taxi became pretty expensive, and I had no better idea than to go to my mother’s house to have a quiet recovery. I thought she could cook for me for a while and lend me some money, until it will be healed.
What I found there was only hysterical clamor and reproaches, completely irrational, go see your doctor, that’s psoriasis, how can you just not go to work, when you’re not in hospital! Though Aunt Gerda tried to explain her, this is bad enough and nobody wants me to come along as a medical marvel in a hospital…
It was horrible. I felt totally forsaken. After this incident I didn’t talk with my mother anymore. As I said, if we spent that Christmas there, then it was just a very short courtesy call. But I think rather not at all.
But then someone got me out of this bullshit. It was Nader. I just felt bad for him. Then I was on his payroll and I could work as much as it was possible for me, not more, here he was very generous.
The blisters were healing bit by bit, but in turn I felt more and more limp and tired out. I lost a serious amount of weight and I was freezing, always and everywhere. I always had goosebumps and my teeth were chattering. Something was completely and utterly going wrong.
Admittedly I remembered Don Juan talking about energetic diseases, which occurred after such trips to another worlds, on the one hand I’d never paid adequate attention to this issue, on the other hand there had been cures like being buried or being hanged on a tree, which I didn’t understand right and would have been impracticable in Rosenheim anyway.
Also my personality was changing. More and more I was developing some kind of kiss-my-ass-feeling, it was going from bad to worse, till sometime I remained lying in bed totally paralyzed.
In December 1995 someone transported me to the doctor. This time the right one, in the meantime I’d seen so many. But this guy was shining in his metier and found out, what was the matter. I had a total adrenocortical failure.
“Three weeks more and you’d be six feet under.”
Well, that was dawning on me later, after he prescribed me cortisone pills, which were operating like if someone had flipped a switch. I was fit and normal again, even the burn scars vanished like in a Dracula film.
That time Tabitha was already living with me for a while, because she was sick of the constant quarrels with Nader. But then Rabea and Samy also wanted to live with me, and for that the apartment in Rosenheim was too small. Nader sponsored the house by the river, Tabitha dragged along Bernie, you know the rest.
Oh no, that wasn’t all. Cause on cortisone pills I was walking the earth like the Terminator. Full aggro, some sort of major fuckup. But discontinue and die?
The Black Angel appeared in a dream and promised, if I’ll come back to him I won’t need no more cortisone. First it seemed rather absurd to me. Then I began to think about it – as you know there is no heroin without addiction. Then there was the thought, I’m already addicted anyway, so why to give a fuck to what?
And then I did it. The Black Angel is way closer to me than the Terminator.
He kept his word. I didn’t need no more cortisone.
This the Black Angel could do. And he did everything in his power. He also helped me to break away from the emotional dependency to Arnaud. And he occupied me. Cause to be a junkie is a fulltime job.
But there was one thing beyond the power of the Black Angel. He couldn’t drag me out of depression, which was consolidating slowly. When everything was fine again physically, the big reflection began.
What does it mean when you have worked your way through the Sorcerer’s Crossing? It means freedom, absolute freedom. And at first this was extremely frightening.
Castaneda had been the context of my life for more than two decades and I was working towards a goal. Now I had reached it and there was nothing more to do. Castaneda had nothing more to tell me. For me he was dead. Even his last book, “The Active Side of Infinity”, which was published after that, couldn’t change this fact.
Nope, I had left the box at all and found myself standing there facing infinity. You can’t imagine anything more horrifying.
In 1998 Castaneda died and I was watching, meanwhile from the distance, from Düsseldorf, how Klaus fell into the same black hole. I’ve got the feeling he’s still suffering from that.
On the web I hit upon a lot of people with the same experience. Many of them are railing against him and sully his work. I can feel, this is coming out of the same sort of shock.
But what did he promise us? – Infinity. The Nagual.
No more, no less.
And today I’m able to make use of it.
In 2010 I found this. I don’t know if there’s something to this story. But surely it makes me think.
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