Evon Davis

Don Juan said, “To seek the perfection of the warrior’s spirit is the only task worthy of our [humanity].”

Ever since I was introduced to Castaneda’s books in 2007, I’ve been searching for don Juan in the flesh.  Not that I expect to find the original don Juan.  Even Castaneda said he had left this world. 

I’m seeking someone who embodies don Juan’s philosophy.  I have a friend who comes pretty close – the one who told me to read the books – as close as I’ve come so far.  But I am in awe of don Juan’s total devotion to being a warrior-sorcerer.  I imagine I will walk that path some day. 

Even now I strive to practice the tenets of his philosophy, though I am a far cry from “the perfection of the warrior’s spirit.” 

I often think, “If only I had a don Juan in my life, I could perfect my warrior’s spirit,” but I know that’s just me being self-indulgent and irresponsible.  It’s no one else’s task to perfect my warrior’s spirit, only mine.  So I make due the best I can.

My only access to don Juan (that I know of) is through Castaneda’s books and my imagination.  I first read all of his books in 2007.  Then, when I went to England in the summer of 2008, I stuffed as many of his paperbacks into my backpack as I could carry, along with a journal, and I made a discipline of reading from them every morning and writing about the lesson I was learning each day. 

In the novels I write, a mentor always shows up who embodies the spirit of don Juan.  For me, this is one way I make him real in my life.  My main character always represents some aspect of myself, so if I have a fear or a problem, I might give that to my character (though it may take a very different form, in its essence, it’s the same), then the mentor helps the character find courage and strength or some other solution. 

I tell myself that either way, whether I were walking in the Sonoran desert chaparral with don Juan beside me, or hiking in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains with a paperback and my imagination to accompany me, either way, living this path is difficult… but well worth it.  Perhaps what I gain this way is that I must internalize the teachings.  I cannot keep them outside of me, running to don Juan when I don’t know how to make it work.  I have to strive harder to figure it out for myself.

As I mentioned, in the past, I have developed a discipline of reading from one of Castaneda’s books in the morning, then writing about the lesson I’m learning that day.  I have tried blogging about it daily as well, so I might try to pick up that practice again as a way of disciplining myself to focus on the lessons daily.

In the introduction to Journey to Ixtlan, Carlos Castaneda wrote, “For the purpose of presenting my argument I must first explain the basic premise of sorcery as don Juan presented it to me.  He said that for a sorcerer, the world of everyday life is not real, or out there, as we believe it is.  For a sorcerer, reality, or the world we all know, is only a description.”

It seems to me like writers would get this better than anyone else.  That’s why I think of myself as a warrior-sorcerer, like don Juan, because that’s the philosophy I live by, or sometimes as a writer-sorcerer, because I think when we write, we create reality.  That’s magic.

Writers create reality by describing it, even if they are just making it up in their minds.  They are shaping reality.  Science-fiction often describes what our reality will become in the future and then we watch it unfold.

But I need to remind myself of this when I am fearful.  Whatever I am afraid of is not real, or out there, as I believe it is.  It’s only a scary story.