And thus you will dance to your death here, on this hilltop, at the end of the day. And in your last dance you will tell of your struggle, of the battles you have won and of those you have lost; you will tell of your joys and bewilderments upon encountering personal power. Your dance will tell about the secrets and about the marvels you have stored. And your death will sit here and watch you. The dying sun will glow on you without burning, as it has done today. The wind will be soft and mellow and your hilltop will tremble. As you reach the end of your dance you will look at the sun, for you will never see it again in waking or in dreaming, and then your death will point to the south. To the vastness. – Journey to Ixtlan
To me keep dancing means dancing along all the lines of awareness that come into my periphery. When we dance with this perception, if we do not resonate with a particular line or if it depletes our energy, we can discontinue that particular dance. Sometimes, the story that has culminated into a specific line of awareness may bring us great joy so we dance along that line for a long time, maybe a lifetime, or for just a while until we’ve attained the knowledge the line offers or until it becomes worn out or draining. On the other hand, if we do not resonate with a particular line of awareness we can reject it immediately or we may sometimes find ourselves dancing to the end of it anyway, in order to come into a deeper understanding of why that line of awareness even exists. And we may discover that some of those lines are very, very dark. When we dance upon all the lines of awareness we get to see the entire mold of man. The mold of man, as described by don Juan, is not a creator, but the pattern of every human attribute we can think of and some we cannot even conceive.