Yaqui Quotes

For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length--and there I travel looking, looking breathlessly.

A man goes to knowledge as he goes to war: wide-awake, with fear, with respect, and with absolute assurance. Going to knowledge or going to war in any other manner is a mistake, and whoever makes it might never live to regret it

Seek and see all the marvels around you. You will get tired of looking at yourself alone, and that fatigue will make you deaf and blind to everything else. - Don Juan

Anything is one of a million paths. Therefore you must always keep in mind that a path is only a path; if you feel you should not follow, you must not stay with it under any circumstances.

All paths are the same: they lead nowhere. ... Does this path have a heart? If it does, the path is good; if it doesn't, it is of no use. Both paths lead nowhere; but one has a heart, the other doesn't. One makes for a joyful journey; as long as you follow it, you are one with it. The other will make you curse your life. One makes you strong; the other weakens you.

Anything is one of a million paths. Therefore you must always keep in mind that a path is only a path; if you feel you should not follow it, you must not stay with it under any conditions. To have such clarity you must lead a disciplined life. Only then will you know that any path is only a path and there is no affront, to oneself or to others, in dropping it if that is what your heart tells you to do. But your decision to keep on the path or to leave it must be free of fear or ambition. I warn you. Look at every path closely and deliberately. Try it as many times as you think necessary. This question is one that only a very old man asks. Does this path have a heart? All paths are the same: they lead nowhere. They are paths going through the bush, or into the bush. In my own life I could say I have traversed long long paths, but I am not anywhere. Does this path have a heart? If it does, the path is good; if it doesn't, it is of no use. Both paths lead nowhere; but one has a heart, the other doesn't. One makes for a joyful journey; as long as you follow it, you are one with it. The other will make you curse your life. One makes you strong; the other weakens you. Before you embark on any path ask the question: Does this path have a heart? If the answer is no, you will know it, and then you must choose another path. The trouble is nobody asks the question; and when a man finally realizes that he has taken a path without a heart, the path is ready to kill him. At that point very few men can stop to deliberate, and leave the path. A path without a heart is never enjoyable. You have to work hard even to take it. On the other hand, a path with heart is easy; it does not make you work at liking it.

I had been experiencing brief flashes of disassociation, or shallow states of non-ordinary reality.

A man who seeks only the light, while shirking his responsibilities, will never find illumination. And one who keep his eyes fixed upon the sun ends up blind..." "It doesn't matter what others think -because that's what they will think, in any case. So, relax. Let the universe move about. Discover the joy of surprising yourself." "The master says: “Make use of every blessing that God gave you today. A blessing cannot be saved. There is no bank where we can deposit blessings received, to use them when we see fit. If you do not use them, they will be irretrievably lost. God knows that we are creative artists when it comes to our lives. On one day, he gives us clay for sculpting, on another, brushes and canvas, or a pen. But we can never use clay on our canvas, nor pens in sculpture. Each day has its own miracle. Accept the blessings, work, and create your minor works of art today. Tomorrow you will receive others.” “You are together because a forest is always stronger than a solitary tree,” the master answered. "The forest conserves humidity, resists the hurricane and helps the soil to be fertile. But what makes a tree strong is its roots. And the roots of a plant cannot help another plant to grow. To be joined together in the same purpose is to allow each person to grow in his own fashion, and that is the path of those who wish to commune with God.” “If you must cry, cry like a child. You were once a child, and one of the first things you learned in life was to cry, because crying is a part of life. Never forget that you are free, and that to show your emotions is not shameful. Scream, sob loudly, make as much noise as you like. Because that is how children cry, and they know the fastest way to put their hearts at ease. Have you ever noticed how children stop crying? They stop because something distracts them. Something calls them to the next adventure. Children stop crying very quickly. And that's how it will be for you. But only if you can cry as children do.” “If you are traveling the road of your dreams, be committed to it. Do not leave an open door to be used as an excuse such as, 'Well, this isn't exactly what I wanted. ' Therein are contained the seeds of defeat. “Walk your path. Even if your steps have to be uncertain, even if you know that you could be doing it better. If you accept your possibilities in the present, there is no doubt that you will improve in the future. But if you deny that you have limitations, you will never be rid of them. “Confront your path with courage, and don't be afraid of the criticism of others. And, above all, don't allow yourself to become paralyzed by self-criticism. “God will be with you on your sleepless nights, and will dry your tears with His love. God is for the valiant.” "Certain things in life simply have to be experienced -and never explained. Love is such a thing." "There is a moment in every day when it is difficult to see clearly: evening time. Light and darkness blend, and nothing is completely clear nor completely dark." "But it's not important what we think, or what we do or what we believe in: each of us will die one day. Better to do as the old Yaqui Indians did: regard death as an advisor. Always ask: 'Since I'm going to die, what should I be doing now?'” "When we follow our dreams, we may give the impression to others that we are miserable and unhappy. But what others think is not important. What is important is the joy in our heart.” “There is a work of art each of us was destined to create. That is the central point of our life, and -no matter how we try to deceive ourselves -we know how important it is to our happiness. Usually, that work of art is covered by years of fears, guilt and indecision. But, if we decide to remove those things that do not belong, if we have no doubt as to our capability, we are capable of going forward with the mission that is our destiny. That is the only way to live with honor.

Power rests on the kind of knowledge one holds. What is the sense of knowing things that are useless?

You know where this Yaqui girl is going to be in a few years if she doesn't change? She'll still be there, same as always in her old neighborhood--a nobody with nothing. And guess what? That's her worst fear.

Añadió que nada en este mundo era un regalo: todo cuanto hubiera que aprender debía aprenderse por el camino difícil.

Growing up is like walking through glass doors that only open one way--you can see where you came from but can't go back.

How can you say bad things about someone you don’t know?” I shout. “How can you hate a stranger? Why do you have to pick on people?” she’s not better than Yaqui. It’s like everywhere there’s a bully in my face.

No tienes que hacer nada para caer bien o mal. O te acepta o te tira de lado.

The parallels to modern physics [with mysticism] appear not only in the Vedas of Hinduism, in the I Ching, or in the Buddhist sutras, but also in the fragments of Heraclitus, in the Sufism of Ibn Arabi, or in the teachings of the Yaqui sorcerer Don Juan.

No hay comunidad más pacífica que los yaquis: cuando combatieron, y lo hicieron millares de veces, actuaron protegiendo los límites de sus tierras, atacando a invasores que intentaban apropiarse de su mundo.

The awakening to serious, sober consciousness, was genuinely shocking. I had forgotten I was a man! The sadness of such an irreconcilable situation was so intense that I wept.

The journey by itself was sufficient; any hope of arriving at a permanent position was outside the boundaries of his knowledge.

Therefore you must always keep in mind that a path is only a path; if you feel you should not follow it, you must not stay with it under any conditions.... Does this path have a heart? If it does, the path is good; if it doesn't, it is of no use. Both paths lead nowhere; but one has a heart, the other doesn't. One makes for a joyful journey; as long as you follow it, you are one with it. The other will make you curse your life. One makes you strong; the other weakens you.

Maybe we only tell our scary secrets when we have no choice.

No!" he said emphatically. "Power rests on the kind of knowledge one holds. What is the sense of knowing things that are useless?

It was Ma who first noticed my body changing, but she wasn't exactly tactful about my getting cuerpo. "Put on a bra already, Piddy," she said after she noticed a man on the bus gawking at my chest one day. "You can't go around with two loose onions in your shirt for all the boys to stare at," she snapped, like it was my fault that the man had helped himself to the show.

I’ve been thinking lately that growing up is like walking through glass doors that only open one way — you can see where you came from but can’t go back. That’s how it is for me, anyway.

You are a serious person, but your seriousness is attached to what you do, not to what goes on outside you. You dwell upon yourself too much. That’s the trouble. And that produces a terrible fatigue." "But what else can anyone do, don Juan?" "Seek and see the marvels all around you. You will get tired of looking at yourself alone, and that fatigue will make you deaf and blind to everything else.

When I look up, I’m surprised to find myself in front of the old building. My feet must have gone on autopilot. I’m like one of those African elephants that finds her way home, no matter how far she’s roamed.

When a man starts to learn, he is never clear about his objectives. His purpose is faulty; his intent is vague. He hopes for rewards that will never materialise, for he knows nothing of the hardships of learning. He slowly begins to learn — bit by bit at first, then in big chunks. And his thoughts soon clash. What he learns is never what he pictured, or imagined, and so he begins to be afraid. Learning is never what one expects. Every step of learning is a new task, and the fear the man is experiencing begins to mount mercilessly, unyieldingly.

If you are a dreaming woman you are at the beginning of the web of creation. This web is extremely elastic, like a spider web. The old stories describe the web like this: When Cloud-Dreaming Woman's daughter Spider Woman created this earth, it was left to her daughters to carry on the endless dream weaving. But Spider Woman started things. She dreamed and spun out the things of this world. She did not know she was dream weaving; only that she was dreaming ... something. So she gave birth to the ugly right along with the beautiful, the sweet natured and the misanthrope, the frog and the smooth-cheeked prince, atomic bombs and telephones along with every plant ad chemical to cure or kill. If you are a dreaming woman, however, you know you and your sisters are together making this world. - Queen of Dreams The Story of A Yaqui Dreaming Woman

تو وقتی از مردم عصبانی می شوی که احساس کنی عملشان مهم است .v

- Birds fly like birds and a man who has taken the devil's weed flies as such. - As birds do? - No, he flies as a man who has taken the weed.

The whole building was probably listening in on her escandalo through the pipes; maybe even the whole block could hear. That tells you how mad she was, because if there’s one thing Ma hates, it’s looking low. The worst thing you can be is a chusma. She thinks we get a bad rap as Latinos, which she’s always trying to undo by being extra quiet and polite all the time.

For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length-and there I travel looking, looking breathlessly.

I really felt I had lost my body, don Juan." "You did." "You mean, I really didn't have a body?" "What do you think yourself?" "well, I don't know. All I can tell you is what I felt." That is all there is in reality - what you felt.

Ma pulls me to her and hugs me so tight and for so long that I can feel her heart beating in her throat. It’s so pure that it takes my breath away. It’s as if she’s pressing all her strength through my skin and into the marrow of my bones.

In face, all I have left of my father is his last name – and I think that’s only because Ma couldn’t stand the shame of leaving FATHER’S NAME blank on my birth certificate. What if the hospital people thought she was the kind of woman who couldn’t remember the names of the men she slept with?

He died of a breaking heart," Pete said, making a stout log fence of his hands around the glove compartment and leaning forward to peer at the luminous clock, "but he was an old man. He was the king of his Yaquis down there and he couldn't live any more when they took the land away. He couldn't live up in the mountains that way. He hid all the treasures - you understand treasures? - in the mountains down there and he died. Now I'm the king of my Yaquis and someday I'll go down there and dig up the treasures again - maybe soon if they don't catch me too much. Then I buy the land back and we will live in the future like in the past only better." Pete let the fence fall, and sunlight showed the clock to be hours wrong, if not years.

You are a serious person, but your seriousness is attached to what you do, not to what goes on outside you. You dwell upon yourself too much. That’s the trouble. And that produces a terrible fatigue." "But what else can anyone do, don Juan?" "Seek and see the marvels all around you. You will get tired of looking at yourself alone, and that fatigue will make you deaf and blind to everything else.

¡la claridad! Esa claridad de mente, tan difícil de obtener, dispersa el miedo, pero también ciega. "Fuerza al hombre a no dudar nunca de sí. Le da la seguridad de que puede hacer cuanto se le antoje, porque todo lo ve con claridad. Y tiene valor porque tiene claridad, y no se detiene en nada porque tiene claridad. Pero todo eso es un error; es como si viera algo claro pero incompleto. Si el hombre se rinde a esa ilusión de poder, ha sucumbido a su segundo enemigo y será torpe para aprender. Se apurará cuando debía ser paciente, o será paciente cuando debería apurarse. Y tonteará con el aprendizaje, hasta que termine incapaz de aprender nada más.

The camera does a close-up on the girl who can miraculously see again. It cuts to the mother-in-law, then to the clueless husband. All at once, the credits run. “Maldito sea!” Lila shoves the coffee table with her foot. “We have to wait to see that hussy get what’s coming?” “Please. You know what’s coming.” I rub perfume on my wrists and sniff. It’s better than sour milk, and it reminds me of fancy department stores where I can only browse. I stuff a few samples in my pocket. “It’s going to end the way all the novelas end. Everybody happy.” She shoos away my idea like it’s a bad smell. “So what? Nobody gets happy the same way. That’s what’s interesting.

En Las enseñanzas de don Juan se explica con todo lujo de detalles el camino que debe emprender el hombre en busca del conocimiento según la cultura india yaqui. Con este fin, don Juan utilizará todo tipo de herramientas para que a través del aprendizaje, la intención rígida, la claridad de mente y la actitud del guerrero lleguemos a ser «hombres de saber».

In fact, all I have left of my father is his last name – and I think that’s only because Ma couldn’t stand the shame of leaving FATHER’S NAME blank on my birth certificate. What if the hospital people thought she was the kind of woman who couldn’t remember the names of the men she slept with?

Yeah, sure. That’s what you think.” She sounds a little sad when she says it. A boy hasn’t looked Mitzi in the eyes for years. Their eyes stayed glued to her chest. “I’ll be her boyfriend noticed you or something like that. But if that’s what happened, you’re done.

I grip my charm tighter. All I can think about is Yaqui Delgado’s eyes, about what kind of cloak she wears, what kind of dagger she’ll run through me.

Nobody is ever beating off starvation at Mitzi’s house. Her parents are so utterly boring, old-fashioned, and ordinary. Her dad works at a clinic, and her mom volunteers, does the laundry, and cooks. Everybody does his or her job – and Mitzi’s is only to study. I decide that annoys me too. What would my life be like if my dad were still around? Easier, I bet, just like hers.

Darlene rolls her eyes – again – like I’m the stupid one. White-skinned. No accent. Good in school. I’m not her idea of a Latina at all. I could point out that Cameron Diaz is Latina, too, but why bother? It won’t change Darlene’s mind.

Nobody is in the school yard when I get there, except for a few guys hanging near the fence. I recognize a couple of them from the forbidden Latin lunch table. I walk fast, trying not to be noticed, but, of course, they have to go out of their way to call me out. “Move that junk, mami!” one of them calls, making squeezing motions with his hands. I don’t turn around to give him the finger, though I probably should. Instead, I hurry up the steps two at a time.

School is no better. Since the day I “played’ fastball, when I step up to the chain-link fence each morning, my shoulders hunch up, my mouth dries, and my head goes blank. A big cloud just swallows up everything about me. It’s like the schoolyard is a big miasma – one of those make-believe poison clouds that scientists once thought killed you until they figured it was actually microbes in water and microwaves and other stuff that really gets you. Yeah, DJ’s a mind erasing miasma, and it’s eating my brain. I forget everything about velocity. I can’t remember the reasons we were in World War I. Each period, I stare at the clock, thinking about getting from one class to the next without meeting Yaqui, like that’s the real test. Sitting in class is just what I do in between.

I can’t get Yaqui Delgado out of my mind. Plenty of girls shake their junk. How is that enough to make somebody hate you? It’s crazy.

Son unas cualquieras,” she mutters. Nobodies. No culture, no family life, illiterates, she means. The kind of people who make her cross to the other side of the street if she meets them in the dark on payday. They’re her worst nightmare of what a Latin girl can become in the United States. Their big hoop earrings and plucked eyebrows, their dark lips painted like those stars in the old black-and-white movies, their tight T-shirts that show too much curve and invite boys’ touches.

SKANK is scribbled in ballpoint pen on my desk. I don’t exactly know why my heart starts to thump. It’s not like there aren’t messages and other handiwork all over this school. Take auditorium seat J-8. I found out during last week’s Expectations of Excellence assembly that it’s got a faded image of a penis carved on the armrest. No one likes to sit in the Pecker Chair for an assembly. People make fun of you the whole day after that. Ask Rob.

Estas hecha una mujer.” She shakes her head sadily. A lot of the salon women tell me this: “You’ve become a woman.” None of them ever sounds too happy about it.

I grip the edge of the table. It’s not fair that I have to upend my life because Yaqui is bloodthirsty. But so what? Think of how unfairly things turned out or Ma with my father – and how she survived anyway. And how about Joey and his mom? Is it fair to be seventeen and on a bus by yourself to get away from your family? Run away if you have to, he told me.

هرگاه انسان خودش را آماده ی یادگیری کند مجبور است سخت تلاش کند و محدودیت های یادگیری او توسط خود او معین می شوند .

مرد دانا کسی است که سختی یادگیری را صادقانه و براستی دنبال کرده باشد. مردی که بی شتاب و شبهه و تا آنجا که در توانایی داشته به دنبال رموز قدرت و دانش رفته است .

تو همیشه باید به یاد داشته باشی که مسیر فقط مسیر است اگر حس کنی که نباید آن را بپیمایی تحت هیچ شرایطی نباید با آن بمانی.

Bartolomé de las Casas had invented actuary science in the early 16th century by studying what happened when you forced people to move from one environment to another—they died. Which was apparently the intended result in the Yaqui’s case. Like Hitler’s victims, the Yaquis were forced into overloaded cattle cars, transported across the country (with many dying along the way) and forced to work until they died. As with the Nazi camps, the Yaquis were housed in overcrowded barracks, underfed and worked until they dropped dead. In a final comparison with the Nazis, the bodies were then cremated.

I closed my eyes again - the sun felt so good against my face - and I continued to eat the ice cream. This time I imagined my white Cadillac was my faithful white horse, Storm. He had a fancy black leather saddle with silver studs and matching reins. I was dressed in all black except for my white hat, which was on at a slight angle, letting it be known I wasn’t an hombre to be trifled with. My silver spurs jingled-jangled the tune from the ice cream truck as I walked because they had been blessed by a Yaqui shaman. The tune cast a spell of fear into the hearts of banditos and love into the hearts of senoritas. A silver plated six-shooter was on my hip in a black tooled holster with notches on its mother of pearl handle from desperados who had to be taken out. The desperados gave me no choice, mostly drug lords from Mexican cartels. The villages along the border celebrated their demise once a year with a big fiesta. Mariachi singers sang my praises with lyrics about the gringo with green eyes who couldn’t be killed.

Quienes han escrito sobre la tribu yaqui nos hablan de sublevaciones y rebeliones sin mencionar que constantemente se les obligaba a ponerse en plan de lucha para defender sus intereses, que no eran otros que sus tierras y el derecho a conservarlas. GILBERTO ESCOBOSA La historia de la gente más que brava que vivió sobre la superficie de la tierra. BAILEY MILLARD No hay título de propiedad más legítimo que el de la posesión de la tierra, bajo el dominio de congregaciones y tribus, desde tiempo inmemorial. ESTEBAN BACA CALDERÓN Para mí era casi incomprensible que una raza humana haya peleado con tanta ferocidad como los yaquis lo hicieron por el único orgullo de poseer la tierra. ÁNGEL BASSOLS Los yaquis son los espartanos de América. GENERAL WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN Desprecio que el régimen tiene para culturas que solo considera arqueológicas y no nervios de una autoridad y un bienestar. JOSÉ C. VALADÉS

Most people feel happy looking at old photos. Me? I just feel lost and jumbled.

Un hombre va al saber como a la guerra: bien despierto, con miedo, con respeto y con absoluta confianza.

I asked him if there was a way in which he could accept just my desire to learn, as if I were an Indian.

So what? Nobody gets happy the same way. That’s what’s interesting.

It was a country of slavery, where human beings were sold like cattle, and its native peoples, the Yaquis, the Papagos, the Tomasachics, exterminated through deportation, or reduced to worse than peonage, their lands in thrall or the hands of foreigners. And in Oaxaca lay the terrible Valle Nacional where Juan himself, a bona-fide slave aged seven, had seen an older brother beaten to death, and another, bought for forty-five pesos, starved to death in seven months, because it was cheaper this should happen, and the slave-holder buy another slave, than simply have one slave better fed merely worked to death in a year. All this spelt Porfirio Diaz: rurales everywhere, jefes políticos, and murder, the extirpation of liberal political institutions, the army an engine of massacre, an instrument of exile. Juan knew this, having suffered it; and more. For later in the revolution, his mother was murdered. And later still Juan himself killed his father, who had fought with Huerta, but turned “traitor. Ah, guilt and sorrow had dogged Juan's footsteps too, for he was not a Catholic who could rise refreshed from the cold bath of confession. Yet the banality stood: that the past was irrevocably past. And conscience had been given man to regret it only in so far as that might change the future. For man, every man, Juan seemed to be telling him, even as Mexico, must ceaselessly struggle upward. What was life but a warfare and a stranger's sojourn? Revolution rages too in the tierra caliente of each human soul. No peace but that must pay full toll to hell.

What is the sense of knowing things that are useless?

A man who is defeated by power dies without really knowing how to handle it. Power is only a burden upon his fate. Such a man has no command over himself, and cannot tell when or how to use his power.

You are a serious person, but your seriousness is attached to what you do, not to what goes on outside you. You dwell upon yourself too much. That’s the trouble. And that produces a terrible fatigue.” "But what else can anyone do, don Juan?" "Seek and see the marvels all around you. You will get tired of looking at yourself alone, and that fatigue will make you deaf and blind to everything else.

El exterminio de los yaquis empezó con la guerra y el fin de ellos se está cumpliendo con la deportación y la exclavitud.

Cuando los hombres yaquis son azotados, mueren de verguenza; pero las mujeres podemos resistir el ser golpeadas; no morimos.

Don't get me wrong, don Juan," I protested. "I want to have an ally, but I also want to know everything I can. You yourself have said that knowledge is power." "No!" he said emphatically. "Power rests on the kind of knowledge one holds. What is the sense of knowing things that are useless?

When a man starts to learn, he is never clear about his objectives. His purpose is faulty. His intent is vague. He hopes for rewards that will never materialize, for he knows nothing of the hardships of learning. "He slowly begins to learn- bit by bit at first, then in big chunks. And his thoughts soon clash. What he learns is never what he pictured, or imagined, and so he begins to be afraid. Learning is never what one expects. Every step of learning is a new task, and the fear the man is experiencing begins to mount mercilessly, unyieldingly. His purpose becomes a battlefield. "And thus he has tumbled upon the first of his natural enemies: Fear! A terrible enemy- treacherous, and difficult to overcome. It remains concealed at every turn of the way, prowling, waiting. And if the man, terrified in its presence, runs away, his enemy will have put an end to his quest.

all of our sad days are like faded bruises, almost forgotten.

I open the yearbook and start paging through it as fast as I can. Basketball games, Ping-Pong, Yearbook Club, Drama. I check the cover to make sure it’s not a mistake. It’s like I’m reading about another place entirely. The school in this book has nothing to do with the place where I spend my days, the place where three in ten of us won’t graduate. It doesn’t show the empty air around me as I wait alone in the school yard, the bathrooms I won’t go into, or the dead look I have to keep on my face as I go from class to class.

Poco sabía yo en ese tiempo que don Juan no me estaba dando solamente una descripción intelectual atractiva; me estaba describiendo algo que él llamaba un hecho energético. Para él, los hechos energéticos eran las conclusiones a las que él y los otros chamanes de su linaje llegaron a involucrarse en una función que llamaban ver: el acto de percibir energía directamente como fluye del universo.

I asked him if each of the two spots had a special name. He said that the good one was called the sitio and the bad one the enemy; he said these two places were the key to a man's wellbeing, especially for a man who was pursuing knowledge. The sheer act of sitting on one's spot created superior strength; on the other hand, the enemy weakened a man and could even cause his death. He said I had replenished my energy, which I had spent lavishly the night before, by taking a nap on my spot.

Strangely it came to Gale then that he was glad. Yaqui had returned to his own — the great spaces, the desolation, the solitude — to the trails he had trodden when a child, trails haunted now by ghosts of his people, and ever by his gods. Gale realized that in the Yaqui he had known the spirit of the desert, that this spirit had claimed all which was wild and primitive in him.

I rather die for the truth, than keep living this lie!!!