As the month of April rapidly comes to a close, I want to try to squeeze in another few hours of writing, partially catching up on what has been a beautiful and amazing six weeks since my last blog posting.
As I wrote in that blog on March 16, 2015, my passion for writing was alive and shining, and it still is. The only thing stopping me from writing is that I have been on the move ever since.
In the words that follow, I will summarize the unfolding magic, and will then finish off by including several pieces of writing that I have written as part of my friends’ project.
Final Playground Giggles
My friend Diana finally arrived at my house just the day after I finished my week-long spurt of posting photos and writing. Having had no time to rest, I jumped headfirst into a flurry of new activities. Within a day of her arrival, Diana made a firm decision that she did indeed want to take over the renting of my house. Her heart strongly called her to stay in Calca and to enter her own version of retreat mode.
The final two weeks of March became a magical time warp. Perhaps you know the feeling – a feeling of time zooming by in a blink, yet at the same time, each day seems like a lifetime. Besides the busywork details of me showing Diana all of the ropes regarding my house and river playground, we also played a great deal.
Those transition weeks were filled with social activities as several mutual friends came for visits. We did numerous ceremonies together, took a trip to Lares Hot springs, visited the “Temple of the Moon” near Cusco, and simply hung out together.
I don’t believe I have been this social for a very long time – and my heart giggled the entire time.
Moving On
But by the last day of March, my heart was also doing something else. A deep sense of inner knowing made it quite clear that it was indeed time to finish packing up my bags. For two months I had felt very strong guidance – guidance telling me to begin my new journey at the end of March. At the same time, that guidance was quite vague, simply telling me I get to play a little too as I take my time and begin to head north.
As I write these words at the end of April, I am quite clear that these last four weeks have been a magical opportunity to learn to live in a flow of present moment whispers – to learn to trust my heart-based hunches and to simply follow them without knowing why.
And that is exactly what I have done.
Early on March 31, 2015, my sweet landlord carried my bags out to the street for me, and soon flagged down a little tuk-tuk to take me to the nearest collectivo mini-van. In the course of saying goodbye to Abelardo (landlord), he hugged me at least five times. With one final hug from both Abelardo and Diana, I turned, stepped into the cramped seat of the tuk-tuk, and began to bounce all over as the driver accelerated rapidly down that bumpy pothole-filled street.
My first feeling was to go visit my dear friend Sufi for a day or two before leaving the Sacred Valley. To my surprise, I ended up staying in her spare bedroom for four days while we shared several ceremonial experiences together. I am so grateful for the deep bond of friendship that the two of us have developed since we first met in Guatemala, way back in the fall of 2011.
To Cusco And Tipon
When I got to Cusco, I felt guided to begin playing tourist, taking in a few activities that I had not yet done during my almost-year in the Sacred Valley. The first day I took a tour to the northern end of the Sacred Valley, visiting the ancient Inca site of Maras Moray, followed by a visit to the ancient salt mines just a short distance away. It was a tour I had been wanting to do for a long time, but had never gotten around to doing.
On the second day, I took another tour to the valley south of Cuszo, visiting several fascinating sites and pueblos. We finished the tour at a place called Tipon – an ancient Inca site high atop a mountain. As I sat by a sacred spring, my heart could feel the magical energy of that place. I loved it so much that I told the tour guide that I was staying behind and that I would find my own way home. I knew that after a thirty minute walk down the mountain that I would be able to take a bus back to Cusco – one that would pass a street just ten minutes from my hotel.
A little over an hour later, as the sun began to hide behind clouds, I hiked reverently down a steep path. A new plan filled my heart. I knew I needed to come back, tomorrow, by myself, and do a Huachuma ceremony here.
My bus arrived back in Cusco at just after 5:00 p.m., in the middle of torrential rains – rains that continued all night. But my plans were not dampened in the least.
At 6:20 a.m. on the next morning, I began walking back to the bus stop. The skies were dark and a light rain continued to drizzle – but my plans were still not at all discouraged by the moisture. My heart told me to keep going, so I did.
As I eventually I hiked up the steep mountain path to the Tipon ruins, the rain had stopped and the clouds appeared to show signs of possible thinning – yet the grass and bushes around me were all drenched. I continued to hike with confidence, reaching the entrance gate at 8:30 a.m.. The security guard smiled at me, acknowledging that just last evening she had given me permission to come back on the same two-day tourist ticket – even though it was already stamped for Tipon.
After a brief rest on a dry bench in a little shelter overlooking the ruins, I drank my dose of Huachuma and began to meditate while occasionally watching the clouds. Over the next hour the sky shifted from all grey to mostly blue and sunny. My guidance had been spot on and the weather was beautiful.
I spent the day basking in the energy of my ceremony, simply following my heart while hiking and meditating – and also channeling a lot of guidance into my voice recorder. In my extensive hiking, I even discovered another area of ruins about a mile away – one that was in the midst of being excavated by a large crew of local workers.
I am so grateful that I followed my heart and went back for this magical day of ceremony – leaving that “tour guide” behind and spending beautiful quiet time in such a sacred space.
Arequipa Adventures
Early the next day, I took a city bus to Cusco’s large “terminal terrestre” (ground terminal – or bus station). By mid-morning I was holding bus tickets for an overnight bus to Arequipa – a city in southwestern Peru, often called “The White City” because most of the buildings in the historic center were built from a white stone that is common in the area.
I had heard both good and bad things about this second-largest-city-in-Peru. It is located in a very dry desert region at an altitude of around 7,000 feet (a little over 2000 meters) above sea level. The whole surrounding region is extremely brown and barren, with much of the landscape reminding me of parts of the Utah and Nevada deserts back home.
Surrounding Arequipa are three volcano systems and gorgeous snow-capped mountains, many of them well over 16,000 feet in altitude. These mountains are spectacular when you can see them through the clouds; but I was not going to Arequipa to see the volcanoes. My heart was yearning to check out a famous canyon just over four hours away – a canyon called “Colca Canyon”. The tour books say that parts of Colca Canyon are twice as deep as the Grand Canyon in Arizona.
Cola Canyon Calling
At 1:30 a.m. on the day after arriving, I was up and scurrying around my bedroom, backing up things on my computer while preparing to catch a 3:00 a.m. tourist bus. My head had fought the idea, telling me this hike was too strenuous – but my heart said otherwise, and easily won the debate. I was going on a three-day trek, descending 4,000 feet (1200 meters) into the bottom of Colca canyon.
The drive to the canyon is beautiful as it passes over the top of a 16,000 foot mountain pass before descending back down to the town of Chivay. Then, after another hour of driving at the 11,000 foot level, we began our 4,000 foot descent on foot.
It was long and arduous trail, often narrow, with lots of switchbacks. The trail was quite slippery in places because of loose dirt and rock. I walked very slowly, choosing my footing very carefully. I never actually fell down, but I constantly caught myself as my feet started to slide. Finally, we made it to the bottom.
On the morning of the second day in the canyon, I sat on the grass at a small hostel named “Posada Gloria”. While meditating quietly, I stared up at the magical mountain that towered above me, just across the river below.
“You need to come back here by yourself and do ceremonies,” my heart voice silently screamed.
“And we are not talking about some day on a future trip … we are talking about next week.” The guidance continued quite strongly.
I did not even question the intuitive guidance. I giggled as I asked Gloria about the possibility of returning to her hostel. I giggled even more when I found out that I could stay here for a grand total of 35 soles – or $12.00 US per night – and that included three full meals.
After my second day of hiking, my head was again second-guessing that silly heart-guidance encouraging me to come back. I was exhausted and did not think myself capable of hiking out of the canyon in the morning. I knew I could do it if I had four or five hours, but the tour guided said we had to do it in three. When I found out that riding a mule to the top was an option (for $20 US), I decided to give it a go. I had always thought it would be fun to ride the donkeys on the trails of the Grand Canyon in Arizona.
Yet a little glimmer of fear taunted me as well. The idea of looking over the edge of steep cliff while a mule controls my life-or-death fate caused my head to resist … but as usual, my heart won, I rode a mule to the top, and I had a blast doing so. I simply ignored and/or pushed through any fear that came up, maintaining a peaceful inner giggle during the entire ascent.
Return Colca Magic
With only a day to rest after returning to Arequipa, I found myself on another 3:00 a.m. tourist bus, returning to the canyon with just a one-way transportation ticket – again zooming over that 16,000 foot mountain pass, and then eating breakfast in Chivay. But this time, when we stopped at the beginning of the trail, near the town of Cabana Conde, I was ready to go and just took off walking all by myself, leaving the tour groups in the dust behind me.
I could not believe my strength, stability, and stamina. I did not stop for any breaks during the entire descent – and my shoes only started to slide maybe three or four times – but never enough to be dangerous. I finished the 4,000 foot descent to the river in a time of just two hours and ten minutes; and then forty minutes after crossing the bridge I was all checked in to my favorite little room at Posada Gloria, gobbling down a delicious lunch.
After a relaxed afternoon, I drank Huachuma on each of the next two days, and had beautiful ceremonial experiences. The energies were so strong, however, leaving me very tired. On the fourth day, I went hiking instead, venturing all the way up to a town called Tapay. In retrospect, that hike was fun, but it didn’t give me much opportunity to rest.
On the morning of my fifth day, I checked my guidance and decided to make the three-hour hike to “Oasis Sangrilla”, a little town at the base of the exit trail. I again surprised myself with my own strength as I easily completed the hike with enough time to get in a good swim at the hotel’s pool (filled with local warm spring water) before any of the tour groups caught up with me.
I had a decision to make that night (mule or hike), and I decided to give myself the physical challenge of hiking. I didn’t know much about public transportation options at the top of the trail, and didn’t want to be the last one at the top, so I decided to get up at 4:00 a.m. and start hiking as soon as I could. I had a good head start before I could see the flashlights of the tour groups far below me at 5:00 a.m..
Even with my head start, about fifty people passed me before I reached the top – but I DID reach the top – and I did it in three hours and forty-five minutes. I was very proud of myself. Without even stopping for breakfast, I began the half-hour walk into Cabana Conde, where I found a 9:00 a.m. bus that would take me on the six-hour drive back to Arequipa.
I did it! I was exhausted as I returned to my hotel – but extremely proud of myself – and very grateful that I followed my heart guidance. In just ten days I had been down in the canyon twice – once on a three-day tour and once on a six-day solo journey.
And in the process, I also made several new friends. I find that I am more social than I remember ever having been in the past – and I am actually enjoying that newly-healed part of me.
Nazca Playground
I gave my body two days to rest before hopping on a bus for my next adventure – one that began with a ten-hour bus ride from Arequipa to Nazca, home of the famous Nazca Lines.
Nazca seems like years ago – it really does – but when I check the calendar I am shocked to see that I just arrived there exactly a week ago. It was a whirlwind trip filled with five different tours. On my first morning I splurged and paid for a flight (in a 5-passenger Cessna) up over the Nazca lines. I was not sure just what to expect, other than that it would be an adventure. I was able to see the lines below, and I really enjoyed the short flight, but was quite surprised at how hard they are to photograph. I quickly gave up and just decided to look and enjoy the lines with my own two eyes.
That same afternoon, I took another tour to some local aqueducts – a series of twenty fascinating spiral structures dug deep into the ground. At the bottom of each spiral (anywhere from fifteen to thirty feet deep) there is access to a clear stream of water still running as it has for over 2,000 years. These aqueducts were constructed by the ancient Nazca people, and over twenty of them still function as good as new – even with all the earthquakes that disrupt this region on a frequent basis.
That night I attended a presentation about the Nazca Lines at the local planetarium. I found the discussion to be quite enjoyable.
On my second day, I began with a driving tour to various lookout towers and a museum. But it was the afternoon tour that fascinated me. Our tour vehicle was an eight-passenger dune buggy, and our very-skilled driver drove about three-times faster than I would ever consider driving as we skirted out into the windy wilds over dirt and sand roads. Our first stop was a huge complex of ancient Nazca ruins called “Cahuachi”. These ruins were built with adobe and covered by 2,000 years of sand storms. Many of them have been partially restored. I found the site to be quite fascinating.
Then, after a short visit at an ancient unguarded burial ground, we embarked on the adventure part of the tour. I haven’t played like that for a very long time. Our driver zoomed all over some very tall and steep dunes before stopping at the crest of one. He retrieved seven sand boards from the back of the buggy, and soon we were taking turns sand boarding down the steep slopes – first sitting down, then lying down face-first on our bellies, and finally taking a run standing up. It was a magical adventure that did not end until we made the one-hour journey zooming back on wild roads, almost all in the pitch-black of a very-windy, new-moon night.
Beaches Birds Penguins And Sea Lions
While in Nazca, I heard about a beach town called Paracas – one where there was a nearby National Reserve and also an island tour to an island filled with wildlife – even some penguins. Some even go so far as to call this island the Galapagos of Peru.
My heart said “Yes”, so Paracas became my next stop. I was lucky enough to barely get in a boat trip to the “Islas Ballestas” less than a half hour after arriving … and then the next day I did a typical guided tour of the National Reserve. I enjoyed my visit, but my heart kept saying “move on … move on soon”.
A Giggling Adventure
On Monday morning, April 27, I left Paracas on a bus destined for Lima. Prior to leaving, I made an appointment with the U.S. Embassy for Tuesday morning. It seems that after six years of traveling, all of my Passport’s visa pages were full – so full that I would not be able to continue crossing borders without my little trip to the embassy.
Early Tuesday morning, after a quick breakfast at the hotel, I caught a taxi at 7:45 a.m. – arriving at the embassy at around 8:30 a.m..
I was totally unprepared for the giggles that would come next. After being told to wait in line even though I had an appointment, I found out that my cell phone would not be allowed inside the embassy – and there are not any storage services provided.
“What do I do with it then?” I ask the Peruvian security guard regarding my phone.
“That is your problem.” He replies. “But you cannot go inside with it. You could maybe hide it in the bushes or something.”
As I notice the minutes ticking away, I look at my cheap little cell phone and make a rash decision. Hurrying to a row of hedges about 50 feet away – hedges that follow the wall of this huge bunker-like U.S. Embassy – I first look back at the large crowd to see if any of the hundreds of people are watching me. I giggle, knowing it is likely that many of them are doing just that. I then quickly bend down in a thicker area of the hedge, find a spot with a thin cover of leaves, and stash both my cell phone and my voice recorder back in a spot where they are barely visible. Then I place a dead weed at the base of the shrub to mark the spot.
After passing through security with my little purse and a small black canvas bag, the “dropping off my passport” part goes very smoothly. I pay my $82 US to add new pages and they tell me to come back between 2:30 and 3:30 p.m. to pick it up.
“Yippee,” I exclaim to myself when I then return to the hedge. Both my phone and the voice recorder are still there.
Rather than leave and then come back to this area of Lima (It is a long taxi ride from my hotel), I just decide to hang out for six hours. There is a little outdoor mall right across the street. I find a McDonalds that has a cozy waiting area inside with restrooms and even an old two-person fake-leather sofa. As I sit resting on that sofa I get the idea that this would be an ideal place to hide my cell phone and my voice recorder. So, before returning to the embassy at 2:00 p.m., I carefully stash my precious devices down in the crack between the back of the non-moveable cushions and the back of the sofa. It is very deep and very secure – and no one sees me do it.
I am all set … or am I?
I am shocked when I return to the security entrance. They tell me that I cannot take my black canvas bag into the embassy with me.
“But I took it in this morning?” I protest with a giggle.
“You shouldn’t have,” The guard sternly responds, insisting that I cannot go into the embassy with this bag.
With giggling shock on my face, I remove a few valuables from the bag, squeeze them into my tiny purse (that is now bulging at the zippers), and then look around to decide what to do.
I consider just tossing the bag into the hedge, but then I notice a restaurant across the street. A quick conversation with a woman inside solves the issue, and I leave my bag with the valet parking guy. He even gives me a claim ticket.
As I make another attempt at the security gate, this time I get as far as the X-Ray machine.
“You have a flashlight in there, don’t you?” The lady accuses me with a scowl as my bag comes out the other side.
“Yes,” I respond in shocked protest, “It is just a flashlight. It is not a forbidden electronic device.”
She then scolds me again and tells me in Spanish (the whole security team is Peruvian) that I cannot take it inside. I ask her to just throw it away for me but she insists I must take it outside. Soon, I am standing by a five-foot-tall circular planter with a tree growing in it, digging through my little purse to retrieve the flashlight. In a stealth move, I slide my flashlight into the planter in a way that no one could see it, and I then return to security.
Finally, I make it through, the first screening … and then the second … and after a half-hour wait I have my new, very fat passport in hand.
I giggle and giggle as I leave the embassy, and head to the planter to retrieve my flashlight. Then, after crossing the street and paying 10 soles to retrieve my black bag from the valet parking guy, I walk to the McDonalds, hoping that no one is sitting on that sofa.
I giggle even more as I ponder the dilemma. A young man is sitting on that sofa, playing with the internet on his phone. He looks as if he is going to be there for a very long time, so finally I swallow what little pride I have left and ask him if I can get something from the sofa. He moves over, I reach down into the back crack and pull out two devices. We both giggle as I walk away. I DID it … what a giggling adventure it was. I am actually quite proud of myself for handling it all so smoothly, with such a sense of humor.
Moving On – Again
Today is Wednesday, April 29, 2015. This morning, with my newly-fat passport locked away in the hotel safe, I began checking guidance for future plans. Soon, after a ten-block walk to a “tele-ticket outlet” I was back in the hotel, now holding a bus ticket for my next journey. Tomorrow morning I take a ten-hour ride to the northern Peru town of Trujillo.
After a four-hour journey to the historic center of Lima, I am now rapidly typing away on my keyboard, hoping to publish this blog before the evening runs out.
This first month of my travels has been quite adventurous – both tiring and restful at the same time – literally taking me on a time-warp of explorative discovery. Even while just having fun, playing tourist, I continue to be amazed by the synchronous events that unfold – events that continue to teach me and to instill confidence in doing what I am doing.
During the last month, I have continued to write a weekly response to a question posed by my friends (and myself) as a part of a project that we are doing together. In closing out this blog, I would again (as I did in the last one) like to share my responses to several of those mini-writing tasks.
World-Rocking Quotes
The first question/answer I want to share is the following: This one is from the first week of April.
Please share a saying, poem, story or idea that shifted you and rocked your world and explain how and why.
For my answer, I am going to share a personal story that happened to me in one of my Huachuma ceremonies here in Peru. I cannot say for sure without returning to my notes, but I believe it happened in late August, 2014, while I was enjoying the wonder of my magical playground – a sacred little grassy area next to a river, surrounded by small farms, nestled at the foot of towering Mount Pitusiray (a magical mountain nearly 19,000 feet high).
A few hours into my ceremony, as I sat cross-legged on the ground while meditating quietly, a sparkly glimmer caught my eye. Feeling curious, I walked over to see what the glimmer might be. To my surprise, it was just a little cap from a beer bottle. At first, some words on the inner side of the cap caught my eye. The words read “Sigue Intentando,” which in Spanish translates to “Keep Trying”. To me, these words seemed to be a gift of personal reassurance from some magical source above.
Then, feeling guided, I turned the cap over to look at the other side. It was a gold cap with a profile of Machu Picchu stenciled on top. To the average observer, the cap would have just been a piece of trash. But intuitions told me to dig deeper in meditation.
As I pondered the faded picture of Machu Picchu on that bottle cap, intuitions suddenly guided me to memories of many frustrating experiences with tour guides at various sites of ancient ruins. During my last six years of travel I have participated in tours of places like Tulum, Chichen Itza, Teotihuacan, Tikal, Machu Picchu, and many more. While some of the tour guides were better informed than others, there was one common thread with all of them.
Intuitively, in my heart, I knew that what these well-intentioned tour guides were telling me was simply a collection of mostly-made-up stories that they had learned during their tour-guide certification classes. While some of the information might be scientifically accurate as far as some dates and timeframes, etc…, the vast majority of what these guides were sharing was simply mental speculation. The agencies that create the official scripts for such tour guides mostly discount, discredit, and ignore any indigenous traditions that may be passed down by the shamans. The scientific world considers most such stories to be nonsensical and impossible legends.
Suddenly, while in the midst of these ponderings, I burst out in uncontrollable laughter. A flash of intuition had unexpectedly shown me that my own logical mind is nothing more than a pompous tour guide who had been trained in ego-based classrooms – classrooms of so many different types – classrooms ranging from parental teachings all the way to advanced university degrees.
The laughter made no sense to my logical mind.
My heart was the part of me that was laughing. I was overflowing with playful joy and celebration at the sudden realization that I really didn’t know squat, and that the mental part of me that had controlled me for so many decades was finally beginning to lose its grip of power.
I continued to laugh uncontrollably for more than an hour as I was repeatedly given deep insight into how almost everything that I thought I knew was nothing more than memorized information that was given to me by others – information created by left-brained logic – information upon which I had then based my entire life. In the depth of this ceremony, I was shown that heart-based experience is the only source of true knowing.
It became hilariously obvious when I imagined myself pompously walking around repeating the contents of a brain filled with memorized facts – thinking myself to be so intelligent and knowledgeable. The whole experience was profoundly humbling.
Later in that ceremony, I was shown how our belief systems are really like cages of experience. We live in an infinite Universe with unlimited dimensions of possibility. How we experience those possibilities depends on what we believe to be possible. Once we believe something is a certain way, our brain tends to filter out all evidence to the contrary, and our perceptive senses instead simply show us the things that validate our existing beliefs. This is why there are so many conflicting beliefs in religion, politics, and cultures. Once we believe things are a certain way, very few of us go back to question or reevaluate those beliefs.
This whole experience literally blew me away in a very humbling way. I learned that our interpretations and descriptions of truth are in and of themselves, not truth. They are simply our attempt to describe an infinite Universe that cannot be contained within the symbols of words. All attempts at documenting reality simply take the “indescribable” and put a box around it.
As I inadequately attempt to describe my indescribable experience from that Huachuma ceremony, I am reminded of two powerful quotes that have helped to shape my own journey of the last ten years.
The first quote is often attributed to Anaïs Nin, but one internet source says she got the quote from the Talmud. I have seen two versions of the quote. These are:
“We don’t see the world as it is; we see it as we are.”
“We don’t see things as they are; we see them as we are.”
I resonate with the first version of this quote, but they both clearly point to how we really filter reality through our own belief systems – through our own experiences of trauma and conditioning. I can strongly attest to the fact that every time that I undo a belief or some other form of past conditioning, that the world I experience is indeed quite different.
The second quote that pops into mind is one attributed to Albert Einstein. One internet source implies that Einstein never said the words arranged this way, but that he did teach this concept in his writings. The quote is as follows:
“The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift.”
This quote has resonated deeply with me for several years. I truly do believe that the rational / logical mind was meant to be a faithful servant, but that we live in a world that has given most of the power to logic and scientific knowledge. It has taken me years of undoing and healing to begin to unravel the rational mind. Finally, my head is lovingly taking its role as an incredibly valuable servant – and finally, my sacred gift, my intuitive heart-mind, is taking its seat as my true source of guidance.
So there you have it. I will be forever grateful that my serious logical mind is finally stepping aside to allow the laughter of a magical heart to lead the way in each and every moment.
Exploring Self-Love
This next question is one that I posed to my friends during the second week of April. Following are the question and my response.
Please describe some of your journey with exploring self-love, and how loving (or not loving) yourself has influenced who you are today.
At the time we went through Journey together as the “Dream Makers”, I really thought I loved myself. In many ways I did; but in retrospect, I clearly see that most of that “self-love” was simply a mental concept, still in its infancy.
Throughout my journey of self-discovery over the last six years, I have repeatedly peeled back layers of self-hatred. Each time another layer would surface during my intense processing, I would find myself feeling quite shocked, because I had no idea how much deep self-loathing emotion continued to hide in my energy field.
In the summer and fall of 2012, I uncovered numerous repeated layers of intense suicidal self-hatred. Those emotions were so strong that I nearly drowned in them. At the time, I was so lost in that emotion that I wanted to project it onto Keith (my “chocolate shaman” teacher). It was all I could do to own that the emotion I was feeling was actually my own repressed self-loathing from my youth – emotion that I had never allowed myself to feel so very long ago – emotion that was now moving through me and out of me. But that emotion needed to be felt as it moved.
This was a full seven years after I had really believed that I already loved myself. In 2012, I felt like the world’s biggest loser. In retrospect, however, I realize that my self-love was increasing all the time – but that the more I raised my level of love, the more the remaining emotional blockages that were in the way had to be jarred loose.
It was not until 2013 that I began to turn the corner with bringing in small amounts of real higher love to fill in all the gaps of deep emotional pain that had been released.
What kept me going through all of these years was the fact that I did indeed have many profound glimpses of divine love – glimpses that gave me the courage to keep diving into the depths of more repressed agony that needed to be freed.
There were glimpses during those years when my heart was wide open and the thought of not feeling that love on a permanent basis seemed laughable. But invariably, within a few days the next layer of emotion would surface and the beautiful glimpse I had been given would fade into the next layer of emotional processing.
Through the struggles, I took great comfort in the words of one of my favorite authors, “Rasha”. In her book “Oneness”, she repeatedly reminded me that each time we raise our vibration, that whatever in our field is not in alignment with that higher frequency needs to come up and be released. I might have given up long ago were it not for her reassurance that such experiences were not “backsliding”, but were instead evidence that I was progressing forward.
It was not until August of 2014, when I began engaging in frequent Huachuma ceremonies, that I started to really connect, via my heart, to a source of pure love that was undeniably real – yet something the mind could never have fathomed.
Even as I continued to release more and more inner blockages of unexpected fear, unworthiness, and self-hatred, I began to tap into a fountain of divine bliss, showing me that I am, and always have been a divine being having a human experience – a divine being that had simply forgotten who it was – a divine being that came here to experience all possible variations in human expression, and as such, there was nothing I have ever done or could do that would tarnish the perfection of my “divine-ness”.
In ways beyond words, I was shown that every being on this planet is an expression of divinity, and that even when we don’t know it, we are simply playing out an experience of innocence and worthiness – no matter how it may look to the judgmental eyes of human ego.
Last August, I began to really understand what self-love is.
For me, self-love is definitely not something that I do. It is not a mental concept that can be understood logically. It is not repeating a series of words or affirmations in the mirror. Yes, all of these things helped me to get to a place of surrender and trust where I sort of believed I was worthy, but no technique could take me beyond the “almost-there” or “almost-worthy” stages where I had been stuck for years.
In the past, I had been obsessed with trying to achieve self-love via my physical actions of undoing (conditioning, emotional blocks, etc), and in retrospect I clearly see that all of that undoing was critically important in my journey. But after years of deep work, I finally reached a point of giving up and realizing that the only way to proceed was to stop trying to achieve worthiness and to instead begin to trust a heart connection that is much bigger than I could ever imagine.
I had to stop trying to earn divine worthiness. I had to stop trying to find more things to heal. And I had to accept and believe that I already am and always have been fully worthy and loveable.
But in my case, I also know that I could never have accepted and believed in my worthiness had I not first done all those years of inner work.
In this last magical year of my life, I have had repeated frequent experiences of feeling that divine love – feeling it to the core in ways that the mind could not ever adequately describe. Through it all, the emotional cleansing continued, often quite intensely; but rather than me doing work to dig up more blockages, I simply responded to the blockages that came up naturally, doing so with more love.
Rather than being an act of “doing”, my journey this year has been more of an act of “surrendering and trusting”.
I cannot really describe where I am in this process of embracing who I really am. I understand it to be a lifelong process of growth and expansion. I understand it to be a magical journey of increasingly embracing the divinity that animates all life – the divinity that gives breath to all of us.
But I can say that my journey of embracing self-love has filled me with new zest for life, new joy for being alive, new excitement to not only love myself but to love everyone and everything as my self.
I wish words could convey the love that fills my heart. It is a love that continues to deepen and grow. My own experience shows me profoundly that the more I connect with this deep source of self-love – with my own personal connection to divinity – the more I am able to see the same in others.
Just two months ago, on February 14, 2015, I sat down at my computer on Valentines Day. As I pondered the meaning of love on that traditional day of romantic love, a few paragraphs just flowed and almost typed themselves via my keyboard as if they were coming from a Higher Source. I want to close my writing today by quoting those words.
“As I ponder the true meaning of love on this beautiful Valentines Day, I feel inspired to share a few of the words flowing through me ….
Until we love our self, it is impossible to truly love another … because whatever we don’t love about our self will surely show up in our projections onto that other.
… and true self love has nothing to do with the worldly perceptions of narcissism or conceit … it has to do with peeling back all layers of unworthiness until we can finally embrace the divinity that radiates from within our own heart. Only then can we recognize that same divinity in every heart that seems to be “out there” and “other”.
On this beautiful day, in the middle of February, so often called Valentine’s Day, may we all find that true divine connection within, and radiate that pure love to everyone and everything around us …”
In the last year, my level of self-love has grown tremendously, and my experience with the world has changed dramatically. I cannot wait to see how future growth and new levels of increasing self-love continue to expand my Universe.
What Is My Dream
Finally, this is the third question/answer I wish to share. I wrote this near the end of the third week of April. I want to clarify that the “Journey” referred to in this writing is a healing program that my friends and I participated in.
What is my dream? … and … How do I see my dream affecting the world?
The answer to this question is easy, but expressing it in writing is a little more tricky. For as long as I can remember, I have desperately wanted to figure out how to heal my life, to “fit in socially”, and “to be normal”.
My experiences in Journey helped me to begin that deep, ongoing healing process … but there was one experience in particular that magically inspired me. In my second time going through “Journey Level I” as a participant, Paul took our group through the process of writing a personal mission statement. I took the assignment seriously, and I began to explore exactly what my future life is all about. I was quite unsure of myself at the time, and was still so unhealed that I felt extremely self-conscious about even sharing what I had written.
A week or two later, I believe it was in late June 2004, I embarked on a mini adventure, hiking up to “Donut Falls” (In one of the canyons near Salt Lake) with a passionate purpose blossoming in my heart. I was on a mission to find deep inspiration and to rewrite my awkward mission statement.
In deep pondering, I sat for hours under a tree about fifty feet from the thundering sound of splashing water, listening to silent inner guidance that seemed to be channeling the words for me. Those words didn’t come smoothly, but it was clear to me as I scribbled and reworked the sentences that the energy behind the words was coming from a Higher Source quite beyond my logical and mental capacity.
As I later walked back down toward my car, I walked very slowly, memorizing the words as I casually strolled. I stopped often as tears gushed down my cheeks, over and over again. By the time I got to my car I had memorized this profound guidance.
In a later “Journey Level II”, after having done a great deal of additional healing, I was guided to change the words “Special Edition Woman” to “Divine Daughter of God”. Here are the words, with that later change.
“I am a beautiful and courageous Divine Daughter of God, overflowing with unconditional love and acceptance of others.
I will compose and perform the special music I hear in my own heart, creating a safe and loving environment where others feel inspired and empowered to discover, and to perform, their own beautiful music.
Together, we can, and we will, create symphonies.”
Of course, when I talk about the “special music I hear in my own heart”, I am talking about divine guidance that flows through my heart, not literally music in a traditional sense.
I knew when I put those words on paper that my purpose, my dream, was not to put down a list of specific tasks that I would perform in my life. Instead, it was to connect to my heart and to my guidance in such a magical way that I could be open and flexible to ongoing guidance – to following a path that would evolve and change beyond my wildest dreams.
It was later that year, around September 2004, when I went through my first “Journey Level II”, where I received strong inner guidance that part of my future also included writing about my life in a way that would profoundly help to inspire others to find the courage to heal.
So there you have it. My dream is to heal my life, to connect to my Higher Source, and to become a follower of my own Higher Self, living my life in such a way that I can help to inspire and empower others to do the same. As I have traveled for the last six years, with this mission as my passionate purpose, I have been learning to do just that – and the passion to write has simply grown stronger.
I really do not know where my life is taking me, other than an inner knowing that tells me it will be magical and profound. I know that my own personal healing has given me an inner license that qualifies me to help and inspire others in walking the path of their own unique healing journeys. I know that my writing skills have been deeply enhanced by a Higher Flow as I develop my gifts via writing in my blog. And I know that these gifts will eventually, perhaps very soon, result in some type of book that will help to inspire and empower those who are guided to read my words.
The only thing I know for sure is that I am open to present-moment guidance. I am not attached in any way to how my dream unfolds. I trust from deep within my heart that it WILL unfold in perfect order, and in perfect timing. My only job is to trust and surrender while opening my heart in my own personal journey.
As far as affecting the world, I believe I already am doing that, in a “butterfly effect” type of way, paying it forward as I go, loving and supporting those that cross my path, and “walking the talk” that I am radiating from my heart.
I profoundly believe that as we heal our own life, that we literally do change the world that we experience – in so many different ways of dimensional experience. In fact, I believe that as we heal, we actually shift into different higher-vibrational dimensions that reflect the level of heart-opening that we resonate with.
I don’t know if this is a real quote, but I have seen it on Facebook many times, and these words resonate deeply with my heart. The quote is attributed to “Lao Tzu” and goes as follows:
“If you want to awaken all of humanity, then awaken all of yourself; if you want to eliminate the suffering in the world, then eliminate all that is dark and negative in yourself. Truly, the greatest gift you have to give is that of your own self-transformation.”
So, these are the passions that fuel my own unique and individual journey. I am here to awaken all of myself, and to radiate the light of my own gift of self-transformation in whatever way my heart guides me in any given moment.
Looking Ahead
Wow, it has been quite the magical ride during my time in Peru. I still don’t know what the future holds. I do know that I have bus tickets to leave for Trujillo in the morning, and my current feelings tell me I will probably only be there for a couple of nights before again moving further north
For many months, the town of Mancora has been calling to me. This is a popular little beach town on the northern coast of Peru, just below the Ecuador border. I definitely do know that after Trujillo, I will be headed in the direction of Mancora. That feels pretty certain.
But how long will I stay there? I certainly do not know that at all. It could be anywhere from a few days all the way up to several months. My Peruvian visa does not expire until mid-August, so that is not a concern.
When I get there, I will simply begin to live, day to day. If I have a comfy place to write, with internet, I might choose to spend some time there while catching up on writing about this last year. If not – of if my heart says “move on”, I will do just that, continuing to follow a flow that seems to be pulling me toward the north.
It will be fun and exciting to find out.
Copyright © 2015 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved
