You must trust to ""the attention of the nagual."" You can't be ""empty."" You have to be an ""impeccable warrior,"" either a ""stalker"" or a ""dreamer."" Too much common sense will deflect your ""luminosity"" and that's n.g. Sounds from here like the sort of membership application the KKK would grudgingly give to Shylock--but we're simply further down the path, in this fifth narrative-parable installment, of Castaneda's search for the ineffable. Now, though, it's Ladies' Day. Don Juan and don Genaro--the magi who starred in the previous volumes--are offstage, their powers disseminated into a sorceress named dona Soledad and her coven of witches, ""las hermanitas"": Lidia, Rosa, Josefina, and Elena. ""Wind and women are alike. This is also the reason why women are better than men."" And the ladies proceed to change bodily shape, walk on the walls, and perform other assorted strangenesses whilst poor Carlos clutches at his notebook and sanity as best he can. Such a concentration of feminity also leads to a lot of inter-sorority bickering; bad moods seem not to be banished from the quest for absolute enlightenment. In fact, as the women try to steal each other's ""luminosity"" and occult powers, lots of scenes here sound like a ruckus in the henhouse, like a Carol Burnett sketch. But humor hasn't up till now been Castaneda's hallmark, and chances are that the smiles are unintentional. What doesn't seem accidental is this book's reading of the marketplace. You want consciousness, Cosmo-style? Voila!