Quetzalcoatl
Once upon a time in ancient Mexico (well it wasn’t really Mexico yet), there lived a king called Quetzalcoatl (well he wasn’t really a king), who ruled the empire of the Toltecs (which wasn’t really an empire). And he didn’t really rule it, he was more like a cultural innovator, a mover and shaker in society, probably an artist, someone who had power because of who he was, not because of what office he held.
Quetzalcoatl’s name is a poem: it means ‘plumed serpent’; a quetzal is a bird with colorful plumage and elaborate tail feathers, a coatl is a snake. In the allegorical sense the name means ‘the wisest of men’ - according to Fernando de Alva Cortés Ixtlilxóchitl, a 17th century historian. He was related to Aztec royalty and to the Spanish Conquistadores, and wrote down the history as best he could remember it, from what he heard of it, the deeds of the Aztecs and of the Toltecs before them.
In the history of the Aztecs, Quetzalcoatl was a mythological hero. His story was exaggerated and a bit fabricated to fit the needs of society. He became known as the god of the wind, the patron saint of craftsmen, of the dawn, etc. His influence was widespread - depictions of Quetzalcoatl are found throughout Mexico and Central America.
The really amazing thing about Quetzalcoatl is that he has been around, in one form or another, since the Olmecs (the founding culture of Mesoamerica). The plumed serpent appears consistently throughout the history of the region, like a lineage or a tradition.
Although it may not be a perfect correlation with the feathered serpent that shows up later in the Teotihuacan civilization and in Tula, the picture above does show the continuity of the symbolism.
In the Mayan culture, Quetzalcoatl appears as a Vision Serpent.
Flash forward to the summer of 1960. A young graduate student from Los Angeles, Carlos Castaneda, is doing field research and he encounters don Juan, a ‘Yaqui Indian from Sonora’, at a bus station in southern Arizona. Carlos is looking for an informant, someone who can tell him about the medicinal uses of plants, especially peyote.
As the story goes, don Juan becomes Carlos’ mentor and teaches him his ‘knowledge’. It’s not about plants, though, it’s a strange and deeply challenging re-orientation to his entire world. Essentially, his system of knowledge is based on the premise that the world of everyday life is not real, it’s only a description. A description that we’re taught by everybody around us from the day we’re born.
Carlos documents his apprenticeship in a series of books describing his interactions with don Juan and the lessons he taught him. Tried to teach him. Carlos was stubborn, proud and easily angered; an unworthy student. Unworthy, but on the other hand, the ideal person for don Juan to demonstrate his knowledge on.
At their first encounter, at the bus station in Arizona, Carlos, refers to him using the word ‘caballero’, which means gentleman or horseman. Don Juan replies by saying, “Soy caballero sin caballo.” “I am a horseman without a horse.” Boy do I know that feeling. Maybe he saw Carlos as his horse, I mean not as a horse but as someone who could bring his knowledge to the wider world. His 12 books have sold more than 28 million copies in 17 languages.
Don Juan refers to himself as a sorcerer, tantamount to being a magician or a wizard, somebody with special powers. He also refers to himself as a Nagual, someone who is a gateway, a doorway, an intermediary between the world of the apprentice and the world of the spirit. That, essentially, is what the books are about, atleast the first three that I read - trying to get Carlos to ‘see’.
And where did don Juan get his knowledge from? He doesn’t say. ‘I’m a Yaqui from Sonora’, is as far as he goes and leaves it at that. He does make the point, though, that what he’s teaching is not necessarily a Yaqui thing.
Flash back to 1000 AD. The Toltecs have built their city, Tula, in the high plateau of central Mexico surrounded by volcanoes and fed by the Tula river. This is the home of Quetzalcoatl, according to Aztec myth, and of the giant pyramid built in his honor with the giant stone figures standing at attention on top.
The Toltecs, as described by the Dominican friar Diego Duran (one of the first westerners to study the history of Mesoamerica), were disciples of the ‘High Priest Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl’ and they were said to have preached and performed miracles. In fact, Toltec means, ‘Masters, or men wise in some craft.’
Preached and performed miracles? Sounds like the disciples of Jesus when he sent them out to spread the Good News. Maybe don Juan was one of those disciples of old Quetzalcoatl or maybe even the current incarnation of him.
I read the books at a formative time in my life, I was searching for truth. I thought the books were really cool and fancied myself a student of don Juan. I even dropped acid once in pursuit of a ‘separate reality’ (the name of his first book). I didn’t find it.
I didn’t find it but I knew I didn’t find it. I knew that don Juan wasn’t my teacher, although I had felt the power of his knowledge. I did find my teacher, which is another story, but just now I’m marveling at the power of Quetzalcoatl, the wise man, and his entourage, spreading out over Mesoamerica and touching different cultures with their truth. All along the way, thru the conquest and the assimilation, all the way to a simple Indian kid in the state of Sonora, a thousand miles from Tula. And how it touched him and how it touched me too. That’s powerful.