Hummingbird Journals

December 30, 2009

   I am at the far reaches of civilization and there is cell reception here.  The weave of the planet is getting tighter. Cabanaconde is the dead end of the Colca Canyon, known as the “valley of wonders.” The terraced farming is beautiful and over 6,000 yrs old.
   There are few cars here, only the buses who bring people from all over the world to witness the wonder of the condor in flight.
   Revered like the phoenix rising up out of the ashes it is an inspiring bird to witness. One that renews the soul. This planet is so precious and amazing. Such incredible diversity and creative thought forms brought into physical manifestation. Today I experienced one.
   The bus broke down and knowing that we had a window of time we decided to walk. It was about 6 miles up steep inclines. I had a sun burn and the weight of my pack chaffed my shoulders. I prayed to forget my body. Now I know I am made of faith, prayer and perseverance.
   We arrived at 9:30 am. Just before I set my altar the first condor came. We began our prayers full of emotion our hearts so full that they were pounding. Two children Kamea (girl) and Saul (boy) came with their curious eyes and sincere hearts. One man also joined us in prayer.
   As soon as we finished our prayers and were singing the Pilayma song another condor came right over head and made a circle over us to take our prayers. It was unbelievable! Sophia and I embracing with tears streaming down our faces. Saul was the first to say that our prayers had been heard. I gave each of them a pa pa seed and explained the significance.
  There was no time to build a wheel. Tomorrow we will arrive early enough to offer prayers for each of you.. Today I held you all as one.
   Isn’t life sweet? I am so lucky and blessed. Condors, like book ends to our ceremony. Unbelievable! Sometimes I have to pinch myself to know that all of this is really happening. Prayers offered ten years ago met with reality today. Never doubt your ability to live your dreams. Just dare to believe, trust and put one foot in front of the other.

December 30, 2010

How do you make a perfect day perfecter?
You see the condor coming home to roost.
   Sophia and I went to a lookout pt. 10min. From our hotel. It was so beautiful with a rock in the shape of a condor head. It was the perfect perch for me. We meditated and enjoyed exploring the deep canyon with our eyes. Trails zig zagged across rugged terrain and waterfalls in the distance dropping hundreds of feet danced like mirages. Sometimes seeming to stand still.
   I taught her how to do the Tslagi Dance and just as we faced East for the 7th round a condor came sailing straight at us just slightly above our heads. Then jetted up into the sky and off into the haze of the endlessly continuing canyon.
   We resumed the dance and hugged each other afterwards feeling blessed that once again the condor had come to witness our prayers. Just then, another came around the bend as I struggled to get to my camera. Ahhh success! I was able to catch some good shots with the condor silhouetted against the cloudy sky. A few moments later a third appeared and we felt so inspired.
   After they departed Sophie taught me a Qi Gong sequence designed to balance earth, human and sky energy zones in the body. Can’t wait to share it with you. Simple, effective and profound.
  This was my best day in Peru by far. I am blissed out. I love everything about this tiny village. Tomorrow we head off for the Cruz Del Condor then back to Arequipa. Friday I head to the beach for the weekend so I can add shells to my shrine to the sea bathroom masterpiece.
   You will be with me in prayer manana. Hoping to update photos next week when I get back to Cusco. Soaring salutations, suz

December 31, 2009

May the coming year bless you in every way imaginable. Love suz

January 1, 2010

   The Moonlit sea greeted me in Mullando. Some of you have been giving me credit for courage that I finally earned tonight. Setting off alone to spend the weekend at the beach. Touching the ocean in another part of the world served as a strong enough motivator to risk being alone.
   Sophie spent the day coaching me with the necessary Spanish. Like how to reply to the all too often asked question, “Are you married?” “Soy casado.” (It’s just a little white lie to get by.)
   Andrea, the woman at the hotel in Arequipa, gave me all kinds of tips about getting by at the beach. She generously offered to keep my backpack safe in her tiny bedroom. That was a huge blessing! Sophia called and made a reservation for me so I could take a taxi from the bus station as I would be arriving at 8:30 pm.
   I managed to get myself checked in. The most I have paid for a room, which included breakfast, is 30 soles. This place costs 50. I was asking the woman for a lock and she went to fetch me a stick to slide through the ring in the door. Realizing that one was not enough she got another. I took out my handy travel dictionary and pointed to the words lock and key. She gave me a tiny lock and key so that I could go out.
   The room has no window, I share a bathroom with 4 rooms and there is no outlet to charge my phone. Carlos is on night duty and the TV is blaring on the other side of the wall.
  I managed to ask, “Donde esta la playa? Where is the beach?” Exasperated, she asked her son to walk me to the corner and show me the way. I managed to follow my nose and on the way scored a bag of groceries, sweet bread and ice cream. Comfort to relieve my stress.
   I contributed my salty tears to the salty sea as I prayed for all of the people who are writing to me and all of my earth angels here in Peru.. The impressive waves were beautiful under the full moon and I felt triumphant!!!! It was a profound moment of freedom from fear. So worth the effort to jump the hurdles it took to get here.
   So tomorrow, by the light of day, I will look for a hostel in someone’s home for 10-15 soles, practice my Spanish and explore the punta where I could see the waves crashing into the rocks tonight. Pachamama is embracing me with a wet kiss and I am filled with wonder at her awesome beauty.

January 3, 2010

   I spent the day sitting in silence watching the sea. Started off on the beach watching as the young men put up and at the close of the day took down the umbrellas and chairs. Bearing heavy loads like ants following the same trail day in and day out.
   I spent the last six hours perched on a rock. Observing the ebb and flow of people searching for clams in the tide pools on either side of me. The waves cresting and rolling like Hawaii 50. Shifting in color from grey to green as the light shone through.
   I was able to observe the progression of time by the changes in the waves from low tide to high tide. Watching the ocean’s temperament turn to tumultuous as the sun began to set. The waves restless and fierce, sending spires of water into the air to catch the last light of day. The waves crashing against the rock to my right creating waterfalls as the pools and crevices emptied.
   I stayed until the rocks in front of mine were submerged and the waves began to encroach sending a sea mist over my raincoat. My rock becoming an island as I waded back to shore. The tide pool now full to the brim.
   I paused a while to watch three brothers playing in the water. They were stair steps like my boys and my heart ached for the days when I stood patiently, like their father, letting them enjoy the last moments of light and laughter.
   I contemplated infinity as I stared at the golden orb slowly descending into the horizon. The eternal wisdom of nature dancing with time, courting the moon to draw near each evening and racing back out to catch the sun.
   Yesterday, I was intrigued by a point off in the distance. Was not yet ready for the stillness I experienced today, so I wandered the beach. Beyond the umbrellas, boom boxes and laughter of people to the rhythmic sound of the sea and the call of gulls, sandpipers and egrets. I was blessed to see two condors perched at the top of a cliff. I sang a Lakota honoring song and watched as they cocked their heads listening to the vibration of indigenous words that have not confused their meaning over time. Still in harmony with the sound of the heartbeat of mother earth.
   I walked for three hours picking up shell treasures along the way. Turns out the cliff that had drawn my attention was the next town. Looking back over my trail I could barely see the point from where I had begun. I am guessing about 17-20 miles.
   I was glad that I had chosen Mollendo. The lesson here was one of being solo and different. Pairing up is a high priority and from the evidence I gleaned on the beach boys and girls are matched young and mated for life. Very rarely do you see anyone walking alone. Boys not yet matched roam in packs and girls in groups of two or three.
   I was the anomaly here. After a month under the Peruvian sun my skin is a leathery bronze. Certainly within range of the local skin tones. It is my bright blue eyes that set me apart.
   After three days I have yet to see another gringa. At the restaurant I had the feeling of “don’t look now”. Little children with gapping mouths hid behind their mothers or grasped at their hands. Women elbowed their husbands for looking and teenagers did double takes. Most were not friendly, a few asked me where I was from. I wore sun glasses to give myself a reprieve. I have never felt so different before. An outcast and a lone wolf to boot.
  I contemplated what it means to me to be alone. To be quarantined to silence because of the language barrier. To feel as though I am flawed in some way that has rendered me without a partner or travel companion. I told one man who was hitting on me that I was married to God and was not available. My broken Spanish, or the very concept, left a perplexed look on his face.
   I am grateful at this juncture in my life to be alone. Free to discover my preferences. Able to travel on the wind. Not having to be considerate of someone else’s needs. Time to discover the depths of my own soul and the weightlessness of my whimsical desires.

January 4, 2010

   My return journey is by the light of day and I am grateful to see what I missed. The highway travels along the coast. Occasionally I get a glimpse of cresting waves on the horizon.
   The landscape reflects the balance of yin and yang. The sandy earth in varying shades of fleshy tones  reminds me of the smooth, sensual feel of a woman’s skin. The slate gray mountains thrusting upward from the desolate plain remind me of the protection of being held in the strength of a man’s arms.          
   Mother earth and father sky meet in this place. Merging together in a beautiful embrace. From this merging creation is birthed and our prayers are heard. It is a place of worship for me. Grander than any cathedral.
As the miles rumble and quake beneath me I am sending you prayers.
   It is difficult for me to avoid the dilemma posed by the influence of the Catholic church in this country. I have always considered myself to be an expanded Catholic. A seeker on a quest to know and honor diverse ways of worship and connection with the Divine.
I have struggled with the extravagance of gold laced cathedrals. Money that could have been spent feeding and sheltering the poor. With the obliteration of the matriarchy, the loss of a historical memory of the time when Goddess worship reigned and the degradation of womyn within the roles of patriarchy. I am troubled by the crusades and genocide committed in Jesus’ name on indigenous people as well as the dissolving of their cultures. The greed of the patriarchy for power and the arrogance of priests who’s repressed sexuality finds expression through perpetration.
   Yet something of value remains. Roots set deeply into the earth touch past lives in me. Somehow I am able to receive sustenance from my Catholic roots in times of need.
For me, the nutrients come in the form of inspiration.
   The veneration of the Divine Feminine channeled through the worship of the Blessed Mother. Witnessed in grato along the highway and scattered in courtyards and backyards throughout Peru.
  Arriving in Arequipa, I enjoyed the quiet of this historic 1545 church/museum. The churches here are stocked with statues of saints. One of my favorites is St. Francis because he bridged the gap between the cathedral and the natural world. Honoring the infinite wisdom of the Divine in the perfection and harmony of nature.
   Creator is beyond name or gender. Creator experiences creation through our hearts, eyes and actions. When we notice the flower or the beggar on the street God/Goddess is present through us. When we are inspired by beauty in the artwork of a church or the landscape out a bus window we are the witness of Creation allowing the Divine to know itself more completely.

my cell

January 4, 2010

   I sat in contemplative prayer in this room for a long while today. I have been told by many people that I have several past lives in monasteries. It was wonderful to feel this room and imagine lives lived long ago.
   One of the teachings of 2012 is that we are moving toward unification both globally and personally. It is a process of soul retrieval work. Calling home aspects of ourselves and integrating them with meaning in our current circumstances. I focused on this as I breathed in the musty smell of this bedroom inhabited in the past by cloistered nuns.