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Showing posts from January, 2011

Free

Christian is free. He has left Cusco jail. I don't know any details. They don't matter anyway, now. It's over. After three months locked up in a terribe jail, this 20 year old Peruvian man will soon get back to working as a gardener in the Sacred Valley which leads up to Machuu Picchu. He loves plants and is knowledgable about them. He is also a talented photographer. Wendy and Jose will have their big brother to play with in the evenings. Teresa , his mother, will be cooking for him again. Thick vegetable soups. Rice puddings maybe. His friend Carlos will give him counseling and CCMBA healing. His ordeal has touched me deeply. I'm not quite sure why. The story, what I know of it, is ugly and sad. Very ugly. Very sad. Ugly is a word I rarely use. Sadness can be a doorway to wonderful new ways of being. 'God turns you from one feeling to another and teaches by means of opposites, so that you will have two wings to fly, not one.' ( also Rumi). Suerte youn

A surprise

"I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding." — John O'Donohue. I do love to live like this. Carried by the surprises of each day. Not knowing where any hour will lead, but trusting all is an adventure in learning more about how to be in the moment, how to love more, how to be compassionate towards everybody , and how not be be attached to anything. What follows covers all of the above ! I had wanted to share some of the stories of the Chocolatadas (the hot chocolate fiestas here in the mountains around Machu Picchu) but yesterday's surprise is still with me, an unfinished experience, so the chocolatadas will have to wait. Yesterday (Thursday 6th),was the festival of the Tree Kings in Ollantaytambo,Peru, a little town well known for it's Inca ruins, and it's train station. Most people visiting Machu Picchu will catch the train here. This anual festival takes the form of groups of traditional dancers wearing elab

Special Moments

"Real friendship or love is not manufactured or achieved by an act of will or intention. Friendship is always an act of recognition." — John O'Donohue (Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom) Today I had one of those rare acts of recognition. It happened by the river as I was on my way to visit a healer. But first I want to share another moment of recognition that happened last Wednesday in Puno, beside Lake Titicaca. Last Wednesday morning, after a night with no sleep due to the alititude, I staggered to a chemist to buy some ibroprofen. It had rained most of the night, the pavement was wet. Coming back, close to my hotel, I noticed a tall man maybe about 50 striding towards me. His eyes were distracted, one possibly with a catheract. His face was deeply lined and he was wearing the traditional clothes of the country people here. My first though was that he was from one of the islands on Lake Titicaca. But what was the drama, why the hurry ? He wore the familiar, loca

Being with the Unknown

Pisac, The Sacred Valley, Peru. Sometimes traveling is confusing. Illness or tiredness can blurr the vision of what brought one to a particular country. I have learned over many years that seldom if ever am I in a foregin country for the reason I think. And so it's happening again. What now ? What next ? I have about two weeks left. Exhaustion. Altitude sickness taking ages to wear off. Concerns about two young Peruvian friends who are in touble here, one in prison, the other separated from his wife and child. Christian's case will not be reviewed until April. The prison is grim beyound discription. My other friend feels lost to me. Wonderful encounters along the way though with angels ( taxi drivers, steet sellers , clowns, ) who guide me to safe heavens. The huge love I feel for the indigenious people here in Peru gets stronger and stronger. A nurse told me the childrens rosy cheeks are not just a sign of wind burn, but a sign of beauty. At birth the baby