Dance of the Four Winds: Secrets of the Inca Medicine Wheel [Original ed.] 9780892815142, 0892815140

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ALBERTO VILLOLDO ERIK IENDRESEN

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Dance op the Pour Winds

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ALBERTO VILLOLDO AND ERIK IENDRESEN

BOOKS Destiny Books Rochester,

Vermont

Destiny Books

One Park

Street

Rochester,

Vermont 05767

Copyright

©

1990, 1995 by Alberto Villoldo and Erik Jendresen

Published by arrangement with HarperSanFrancisco, a division of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. All rights reserved.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Villoldo, Alberto.

[Four winds]

Dance of

the four winds

:

medicine wheel

secrets of the Inca

/

Alberto

Villoldo and Erik Jendresen.

cm.

p.

Originally published:

The four winds. San Francisco

:

Harper

&

Row,

cl990. Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 0-89281-514-0 1. Shamanism— Peru. 3. Villoldo, 6.

Alberto.

2.

II.

use.

7.

travel.

5.

Ayahuasca.

Quechua Indians-Religion.

I.

Jendresen,

Title.

[BF1622.P4V55 299'.833-dc20

Printed and

Hallucinogenic drugs and religious experience.

Peru-Description and

Quechua Indians-Drug

Erik.

10

4.

bound

1995]

94-34600 CIP in the

United States

987654321

Destiny Books

is

a division of Inner Traditions International

Canada by Publishers Group West (PGW),

book trade

in

Distributed to the

book trade

in the

Distributed to the

book trade

in Australia

book trade

in

Distributed to the

Toronto, Ontario United Kingdom by Deep Books, London

by Millennium Books, Newtown,

N.S.W. Distributed to the

New

Zealand by Tandem

Press,

Auckland

w

For Candi Lovery

sister, wife,

friend.

Contents

Preface be

Map

of Peru xiii

Prologue 1

South 3

West 149

North 211

East 243

Preface

In 1973

I

embarked upon

a journey that has

romantic quest to experience the

effects

inspired

by youthful idealism and

front of

my

what

I

nose.

I

was looking

for.

tell

Ph.D. dangling

That was the easy

the story of

my

It

began

of a legendary potion.

traveled to Peru, into the

Sixteen years, three books, and pelled to

a

no end.

many

as a

was

It

like a carrot in

Amazon, and found

part.

am com-

lifetimes later, I

journey, the story of those years.

Every mystical tradition, from the Jewish cabala to the Upanishads

of the Hindus, recognizes the existence of things that can be known but not told. There are certain qualities of sense experience that seem to defy description. Frequentiy our

most

vivid

and important

ences are the very ones that confound us in the telling;

abandon the

my

effort

than to relate them poorly. Such

adventures, and

relate

my

story, to

two

years ago I

was

communicate what

how to tell it. Many years ago a

I

is

it is

the nature of

in a dilemma. I

knew, yet

I

experi-

easier to

needed to

was confounded

as to

half- blind

soothsayer told

kinds of people in this world: those those

who

whom be

I

are dreamers. I

could

trust,

who

me

that there are

are being

two

dreamed and

needed someone to dream with, someone

someone who believed

known but not told— and was

in the things that could

willing to write about

them nev-

ertheless.

Preface

>>

ix

Erik Jendresen and

I

to write, and although lives,

we

met

in 1979. In

we were more

or

1982 he moved to Mexico less

aware of each other's

did not see each other again until the spring of 1987. In the

meantime

I

had continued

my work in Peru,

and Erik had written for

the stage and the screen.

In April of 1987

weeks

Rio de

talking, reading

traveled to Brazil together,

my

journals,

and spent three

and wandering the beaches of

Janeiro.

The Four Winds It is

we

my

is

story, in his

the result of our friendship and collaboration.

words, and

it is

true.

Alberto Villoldo

January

1,

1990

Palo Alto, California

x

Dance of the Four Winds

Dance op the Four Winds

COLOMBIA

MollendoK

A

^

#

Prologue

am

I

And

moving.

breathing.

move through

I

reds, yellows, greens

ground. Faster, .

.

.

hands and

My breath

is

I

a

washed gray by moonlight.

pant.

feet?

many-layered collage of wet leaves, hanging vines,

The ground

They move

hot and humid;

There

My

shining wet in the moonlight. taut, exposed. I

me

I

Arms thrown out

the jungle

move with

and

beats too fast,

am

I,

I

of

my

in

my

chest.

can smell mvself

head

lax to

my

thrown back and

is

my

and

sitting cross-legged, naked,

sides,

watch myself from the edge of the jungle.

Behind

low to the

jungle.

the clearing and there

is

with the throbbing

in cadence

my heart

beyond the moist tangle of the

My head hangs

yields slightiy beneath the pads

throat

hands palm up on the Still

but for

my

is

soil.

breathing.

stirs sleeplessly.

the lithesomeness of a shadow, following the contours of

the clearing's edge to circle

my

prey.

Soundlessly. Closer.

Now we

are breathing together.

my chest. I raise my my eyes, animal eyes. A

My my

head

falls

My

chin

eyes to stare into yellow cat

touches

head, open

eyes,

half- breath catches in

out to touch the face of the jungle

forward.

my

throat,

and

I

reach

cat.

October 28, 1975

Third day back in the jungle. Three days waiting while pares the ayahuasca. There

was

a full

moon

last

Ramon

pre-

night and he placed

Prologue

1

the fetid

brew

in the

hollowed-out trunk of a tree that

sits

by the

lagoon behind his thatched hut.

Tonight

through the

my

me

take

ritual,

pared. Antonio

done

and

will take the ayahuasca

I

saw to

work, completed

years ago? Yes.

showed up

will

Ramon

my work

me am pre-

guide

meet death. This time,

to

and

it,

Ramon

I

knows, somehow, that

of the South since— was

I

have

it

two

That the medico americano, the gringo psychologist,

in the

Amazon

middle of the

jungle with a taste for

"the vine of the dead."

The

jungle overwhelms me.

The

density. Oxygen-rich, fragrant,

The

force of the jungle.

of thing.

.

.

humid,

but

yes,

it

a tropical

feels like

have become more sensitive to

energy.

this sort

.

It certainly exerts a

The

I

more than

air is thick,

Earth's garden.

force I

my

on

perspective of this world. Eden.

can imagine the

Amazon

as bottomless, a

crack in the world from which spilled the living soul of the planet.

A

life

of

own, conscious,

its

Last night in that a

little

itate I

moon,

clearing beside an

upon

I

wandered

far

overgrown temple

sum of

parts.

its

from Ramon's and,

down

ruin, sat

to

in

med-

this force.

do not know

was

full

greater than the

stalking

my body" and Though my pragmatism

if I "left

me.

enough of

adventures,

.

it is still

.

.

became the jaguar that

my

has been shaken by

intact that I

must

qualify such

experiences. I

do know

that

I

met some

part of myself last night

and

my

heart

beats faster even as I write this.

This afternoon

way

to the

shore, will

I

bend

fasted in preparation for this evening. in the river, and,

remembered

all

upon

my small, sandy patch of me here and that tonight this Medicine Wheel. When I on

the events of the past

two

years, I realize that I

have the power of imagination to anticipate what tonight's

Can

2

it

made my

that has brought

mark the halfway point along

reflect

I

lies

do not

beyond

"work of the West."

be any more extraordinary than what has come before?

« »

Dance of the Four Winds

South

7

No mind

is

much employed upon

the present; recollection

and

anticipation fill up almost all our moments.

—Samuel Johnson

California in February 1973. It

I left

boarded the seatbelt in

that

jetliner,

Lima, Peru.

had made

I

As

know

I

was winter

in

San Francisco when

mention

I

a passage

this

because

through time

it

my

served then to remind

me

I

through space.

as well as a trip

look back on that departure and the events that led

one of them could be construed

that any

chronicle. It

is

easy to assign significance to the

I

unfastened

and the middle of summer when

as the

me

to

it,

beginning of

moments of one's

I

this

past, to

see fate in history.

So

my my work

story could easily begin with

this

Huichol Indians of northern Mexico, or

adventures

notorious healer and surgeon of Mexico City, or even spiritist practices

Were

I

to

of

go back even

further,

I

could

who

realms of consciousness.

rituals to

our house

Or, further

I

am

on the

in

still,

I

of dona

outskirts

of San

even tempted to begin with

summon

the spirits in her

who performed

little

room

at the

my

weird

end of

San Juan. I

could describe the sensations of a near-death, out-

of-body experience during a blood transfusion

And

research into the

cite the influence

lived

nanny, an Afro-American third-generation Cuban,

a hall in

my

warned me of my preoccupation with death and the

Juan, Puerto Rico, and

and wonderful

the

Brazil.

Rosa, the one-eyed black fortune-teller

uncommon

among

with dona Pachita, the

could foreshadow

my

at the

age of two and a

half.

predisposition to study the mind/body rela-

tionship by claiming a grandfather

who became

chief of surgery at a

South

New

5

York City

hospital at the turn of the century

and returned to

his native

Cuba

to build a hospital in the city of Havana.

But

not an autobiography, and

this is

above elsewhere. point in

I

my studies

will

I

have documented

begin simply by saying that

and the

Humanistic Psychology

fulfillment

of my doctorate

Institute. After three years

much of the

had reached

I

in

a critical

psychology

at the

of behavioral science,

learning theory, clinical psychology, theoretical systems, and neuroanatomy, a year

of clinical therapy

health care clinic, and a few brief

North and Latin American Indian healing

forays into less,

community

at a

eager to

do something

Something

different

was

traditions, I

rest-

different.

from the

of Western psychol-

antiseptic theories

ogy. Something different from the atrophied healing traditions of the North

American Indian

reservations,

where the old myths and legends survive

as

quaint folklore.

Like tional

many of my

contemporaries,

was unimpressed with the

I

my

Western model of psychology. In

youthful arrogance

I

tradi-

found

it

convenient to regard the practice of psychology as a patchwork process in

which

therapists seek to understand a person's

problems by dissecting and

symptom by symptom, making an

rationalizing his or her condition,

inevi-

table connection to inadequate parenting or a traumatic childhood experi-

ence. Ironically, the process itself substantiates, even reinforces, the pathol-

ogy. Neuroses are cultivated for harvest during therapy.

Again and again

I

had found myself taking a patient by the hand and

hacking a pathway through his or her tangled conscious and subconscious to the revelatory

meadow of

the unconscious mind.

saw contemporary psychologists

I

and the

ogists,

fears,

as

dowdy, bespectacled paleontol-

preoccupations, behavioral

that they sought to treat in therapy

of the psyche. They labored to

or other symptoms

traits,

were bone fragments stuck in the surface

collect these fossils and, piece

reconstruct the skeleton of the beast within. Meanwhile,

of the unconscious, the

terrain

And,

fully fleshed-out creature

in the laboratory, neurologists

were

It

was

I

6

was

had been

in this tradition that I

with the mind from the outside

in,

cynical, arrogant, impatient

« »

and

I

in

piece,

wreaked

its

havoc.

and staining the hu-

slicing

man brain and attempting to map neural pathways human mind and the nature of consciousness.

by

somewhere on the

hopes of finding the

trained. I

knew how

to

work

craved to be inside looking out.

with the system, and judgmental of the

Dance of the Four Winds

complacency with which so many stuck

hung up

was not

I

On

a

Ph.D.

at the

end of their name and

a shingle.

alone.

My

attitude

and ideology were by no means unique.

the contrary, questions regarding the nature of consciousness and the

definition of

They

mind had been posed with

elaboration were

my

outline

elegant simplicity for millennia.

which remain unsolved.

are questions

would not indulge

I

not for the nature of the adventure that

it

in this

lay ahead. I

disposition merely as a point of reference, an intellectual pre-

flight checklist.

my

In

my

attention

human all, is

a

from the

clinical

in

time and tradition, turned

psychology and neurology of the modern

to the clinical mythology and folklore of the primitive human. After

mental and physical health are issues of equal importance, whether one

Chama

Indian of the Upper

Upper East

my

had been able to design

I

Amazon

or an investment banker of the

Side.

traditional healing practices in the

my

backward

dissatisfaction I turned

thesis adviser

doctoral thesis to support a study of

Americas and was fortunate to draw

one of the world's foremost researchers

was

sciousness. Dr. Stanley Krippner

in states

a pioneer in the study

as

of con-

of paranormal

phenomena. As director of the Maimonides Medical Center's dream labohe had helped to bring dream research out of the basements and into

ratory,

the laboratories of universities across the country.

From San are in the

After

Francisco, the

accessible examples

clear to

me

that the displacement

in the displacement

practices

of primitive culture

American Indian reservations of the Southwestern United

had studied the Navaho Indian

I

of their

tradition for a

After that

enough

I

a

tradition.

museum

had logged

a

few months,

and acculturation of the

of the Plains Indian had been

of a culture by examining

tunate

most

My

tribes

attempt to study the healing

like trying to

study the eating habits

display of native basket weaving.

few months

in

Mexico City and been

for-

who

dis-

practiced a variety

niques, including psychic surgery.

some spontaneous

healing. This

I

of esoteric healing tech-

had witnessed much

was

States.

became

had resulted

to develop a close relationship widi urban healers,

pensed herbal remedies and

it

sleight

of hand and

controversial stuff, but a step in the

right direction.

As so often happens, the

would change the focus of my

critical instant,

studies

moment that of my life, came when

the decisive

and the course

South

I

expected

least

it,

room

in a

end of an echo-tiled hallway

at the

at the

University of California.

Brian Woodruff was an old friend, a first-year medical student at the University of California, San Francisco.

requirement city,

ward

at the in-patient

I

and Brian was hustling to complete

me

called

was

room 601.

mental ward parking

It

was

10

after

clinic

north of the

when he

his first-year requisites

to suggest a late-night dinner in the

medical school,

graduate program

fulfilling a

mental health care

at a

p.m.

city. I

was to meet him

when

I

at the

stumbled out into the

and headed south through the fog and into San

lot

Francisco.

The double door

to the University of California Medical School

laboratory was ponderous, institutional gray.

The sound of its

anatomy

bar lock

ric-

ocheted off cold linoleum.

The room was

the size of a small warehouse and blue-gray bright with

fluorescent light. There were four

rows of bakelite-topped

which vague shapes were draped with black rubberized of formalin wrinkled

my

nose. Brian

sheets.

The

stool at the

head of

slid

off the

his table.

"Hey, man! Pull up a Brian's cadaver

stench

hacksaw beside a

set a stainless steel

bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken and an empty beer bottle, and tall

upon

tables

was

stool.

The

chicken's getting cold."

young woman. The rubber

that of a

sheet had

been folded back to expose her upper chest, neck, and head. Her skin was like calf s hide,

"This

is

her complexion gray and tinged with olive drab.

Jennifer," Brian said.

lifted the surgical I

knew

"Brian

saw. "She's taught

was to

there .

"We've been together

learn.

I'll

me more

all

semester."

human body

about the

He

than

never forget her."

." .

"Tonight

she's

going to lose her head for me, and

I

wanted you to be

here."

'Thanks."

His eyes held mine in a matter-of-fact

"You don't

get to see a decapitation these days without a hundred-

grand student loan and a

year's

worth of medical school.

interested."

8

« > >

stare.

Dance of the Four Winds

I

thought you'd be

"Why?" "Psychologist."

"Yeah,"

He

"When people me for a second,

said.

I

stared at

"You don't have thought— I mean,

if

do

to

lose their heads, they

trying to gauge

this if

my

you don't want

come

to me."

tone of voice.

to," he said. "I just

you're uncomfortable ..."

"It's all right," I said. ."

"If you'd rather

looked

I

fried

foods,"

.

bucket of chicken. "I'm just trying to stay away from

at the I

.

said.

I

wasn't prepared to admit that

by the body on the

revolted, yet irresistably fascinated

I

table.

was strangely

He

handed me

a beer.

"Eat afterward?" he

we

"If

said.

can."

"Incredible, huh? Just

down

the hall there's a lab where they conduct

the foremost research in recombinant are

DNA. One

pathways of simple brain functions. But here just like

the

floor

down, neurologists

teaming up with biochemists and computer gurus to simulate the neural

Leonardo da Vinci did

room

start

on

you're doing, and

we

are cutting

hundred years ago."

He

up dead people looked around

black-draped figures.

at all the

"We

five

the back because easier if

it's

can really look back

at

it

takes a while to get used to

you don't have to look

you and make you

at the

face— as

feel guilty for violating

what

if

they

them with

a scalpel."

He hand.

down and cupped the Her head moved back slighdy. reached

cadaver's chin in the

Decisively, he placed the serrated blade of the cartilage

between the exposed vertebrae of her neck.

from

When

it.

the head

"You wouldn't

was

believe

free

do with other

on

his

the table,

wiped

a

wedge of

couldn't take

from the body, he held

it

in

his

my eyes

both hands.

some of the more creative things that anatomy people's body parts." He placed her head

students think of to

a drumstick

I

saw on

palm of

hands

down

the front of his smock, and handed

from the bucket and took one

me

for himself.

"Here's to science," he said.

"Extra crispy,"

We

I said.

ate the drumsticks

and

I

watched him suck the bone

talked about our plans for the future: he

graduate program.

The

discipline

was

was committed to

imposed, sink or swim.

South

clean.

We

a four-year

Mine was

9

self-imposed and lacked direction. While

from

a large dental drill

we

talked he took

a drawer, plugged

it

selected a bit, a round, disklike blade about

'They save the best

"Hold her I

me,

for

down on

had rotated the head

and a

He

my hands

took the head in

whine of the blade fine

a full

still

like

inches in diameter.

and the handpiece whirred.

you?"

will

the spinning blade

two

for last," he said,

what looked

into an electrical socket, and

and positioned

the forehead.

it

When

for him,

and he brought

he was through, when he

360 degrees, he switched off the

my ears.

rang in

powder of bone dust

lay

leaned over and gentiy blew

it

little

There was a curious smell

on

the face and clung to

its

saw.

The

in the air,

eyelashes.

away.

"Imagine," he said. "No human being has ever seen Jennifer's brain. You and I are the first. Drum roll, Maestro." And he pulled the calavarium away from the skull. I had seen a human brain. I had seen many, floating in formalin-filled lab jars. But that moment will always live for

Aristotle

me.

thought that the brain cooled the blood, that thinking was a

Rene Descartes described

function of the heart.

nerve fountain. a

It

computer, yet the mechanics of the brain are

analog. Theorist Lyall

Watson wrote

could understand

we would

source of

mass of

all

this

it,

tissue before

placed a hand

on

more

far

intricate

than any

that if the brain were so simple that

be so simple that

we

couldn't.

And

we the

me.

me and nodded his head toward Jennifer's. Once

either side

her head.

He

to me.

was heavy.

It

pump of a

theory and speculation was the walnut-shaped, fleshy, gray

Brian looked at I

the brain as the

has been compared to a clock, a telephone switchboard,

stood weighing

of her

it

in his

face,

again

and Brian eased the brain from

hands for a moment, then handed

it

Brian interrupted the silence. "I don't believe I

it

either,"

he

said.

smiled back at him, placed the thing

and folded

my

arms.

It

and the 110 pounds of

on

was easy to make the flesh

on the

my

stool,

between Jennifer

body had ceased

no

to function

her heart had stopped forcing oxygen and nutrient-rich blood through

her tissues, and that this brain had regulated

animated

10

distinction

on

dissecting table before me. It took

great leap of my imagination to accept that her

when

the table, sat

it.

»

Dance of the Four Winds

all

of the systems that had

But the body does not define the person. Jennifer had lived for forty years. Fifteen thousand days of consciousness. Twenty-one million minutes

One

of being Jennifer.

hundred million

billion three

of experience

instants

unique to her and to no other living being, for none other than Jennifer had inhabited her space and experienced her perspective. At the time of her

moments, the

death, each of those

memories. Just

nifer, lived as

as

of what

totality

Brian and

undoubtedly seen things that no one

I

seen.

emotion, intuition, and flashes of creativity. She had only Jennifer could Jennifer

was

it

them.

It

was hard to

brain, she

joy and anguish as

felt

believe that

gone?

could not help but

I

that

all

'What's next?"

notion that

resist the

had been Jennifer was

it

asked.

I

and chose a powdery

roll.

"Neurology," he

class. Slice, stain,

study

its

three pieces of Jennifer's head. 'There's

but

I'll

get to

later."

it

had simplv

lost forever.

He

Brian poked his nose back into the bucket of chicken.

neurology

had been

that

all

had been conscious. What had happened to her conscious??^?

ceased to be, that

in

had

She had experienced

because this thing in front of me wasn't working anvmore.

lost

Jennifer

Where had

feel

had been to be Jen-

were seeing her

had

else

it

He

said.

'The brain

structure." still

He

gets dissected

glanced

some work

to

grimaced

down

at the

do on her

face,

stuck the roll in his mouth, unplugged the electric

saw, and removed the bit from the handpiece. "Aren't

He

you supposed to have

nodded, wrapped the cord around the handpiece, and gave

me. "Yeah.

It's strictiy

our co-cutters, so I slid

one corpse per couple.

I lifted

a

it

to

all

is

tucked up. She wanted to miss

she?" this part."

at the

magazine. "She wants to do her

You'd think she wouldn't have missed

this.

resi-

Stephanie

rather medicate people with personality disorders than heal them.

laughed

you're in love.

.

.

at

.

problem with the human body." him. The sound echoed

How

long has

this

eerily.

monogamous

relationship,

and

"Very

bitter," I said.

"So

down

into

>>

11

been going on?"

'Three months. She's going to change her a

it

chose

up.

in psychiatry.

she has a I

we

got Stephanie. That goes in the drawer."

I

He nodded

"Uh-huh."

And

wasn't here the day

copy of the International Journal of Social Psychiatry from the

drawer and held

dency

I

open the drawer, put away the saw. "Where

"Safe in bed. Toes

would

a partner?"

specialty, settle

we'll live happily ever after."

South

He

pointed with his scalpel at the magazine in

someone should go down the Vine of the dead.'

into the

Amazon and

my

hands. "She thinks

find the folks

who

dispense

"

"What?" "Page 256."

one

who

He

grinned broadly. "It would take a psychiatrist, some-

speaks Spanish.

Of course

you're

'just a

psychologist.

.

.

.'

"

\35/

The

on

literature

the ayahuasca, also

known

"visionary vine," and the "rope of the dead,"

most

significant research in

its

outskirts

Dobkin de

medicine," the

and confused. The

took

article that I

Rios's studies

home with me

had been carried out on the

of the jungle town of Iquitos, and focused on the use of ayahuasca

and

in folk healing

made from

broth

scarce

use had been conducted by anthropologist

Marlene Dobkin de Rios, the author of the that evening. Dr.

as "the great

was

the jungle

shaman or medicine man to

and the attendant

The

and magical

religious

first

rituals.

The source of the yogi,

the visionary bark of the ayahuasca,

rituals

was the

the

ayahuascero,

whom the methods of its preparation

had been passed down

for generations.

Western record of ayahuasca use was made by British botanist

Richard Spruce in 1851. Spruce identified the vine

as Banisteriopsis caapi, a

climbing vine or liana that used jungle trees for support. Subsequendy a handful of early twentieth-century explorers and traders of the Upper

azon referred to xheyage of

leaves I

as a

made from

the bark of the vine and the

select jungle plants.

read of reports of the specificity and recurrence of archetypal images

and visions shared by two, yagc, telepathic experiences, a sort

potion

Am-

three, or

more people under

the influence of the

and the use of the vine for psychiatric purposes,

of jungle psychotherapy led by the ayahuascero. The plant was referred

to as the "vine or rope of the dead" because portals

it

reportedly "took one to the

of death and back again." Based on the richness of the mythology

and on depictions of the visionary vine on ceramics, and paintings, the use of the plant

and

ritual for visionary

in rock

and cave

purposes seemed to

be rooted in the prehistory of South America. This was the adventure for which just to

12

sample the psychoactive

« »

effects

I

yearned.

I

would go

to Peru, not

of an obscure jungle vine, but to

Dance of the Four Winds

study the psychological traditions and altered states of consciousness of the medicine

men and women,

only country in

the shamans of the

Amazon. Peru: the the Americas where the Indian outnumbered the white

man.

The two weeks following my dinner with Brian were spent searching and reviewing all that I knew about shamanism.

for references to the vine

One of

the

prosaic

Le Chamanisme

most

definitive sources

on

the subject

was the

authoritative, if

et les techniques archaigues de Vextase

Eliade. Eliade's study described

shamanism

phenomenon ocamong the ancient

as a religious

curring throughout Asia, Oceania, the Americas, and

Indo-European peoples. Throughout

by Mircea

this vast area the

magico- religious

life

of society centered on the shaman, "at once magician and medicine man, miracle doer, priest, mystic, and poet."

To

Eliade,

shamanism was

a "tech-

nique of ecstasy." I

pored over anthropological and ethnological journals and

week

the end of that second

manism was

knew

I

found

a tradition

more than when

little

texts.

I started.

By

Sha-

in virtually every primitive society, in every

forgotten corner of the globe. In general, the shaman was a "person of

knowledge," a "man or

woman

of vision," a mediator between the natural

and supernatural forces of nature. Because these were the forces that the

shaman held responsible

for health

and

disease, the

shaman was

And, although ignorant of modern medicine, the shaman was intuitively to diagnose disease and,

change in a

through

ritual,

a healer.

said to be able

could effect a positive

patient's health.

Legend held

that the

shaman acquired

his or her extraordinary abilities

through arduous study and ritual-laden exercise and by journeying into other realms of consciousness.

The concept of this of consciousness

fired

primitive person as a traveler within the domains

my

imagination.

nonconscious workings of the recalled

Or

last

the time the check

the next flight to

time for I

possible to witness the

as

rely

on the vaguely

our only contact with the

are there ways to access the unconscious mind consciously?

packed for two days.

on

it

human mind? Must we

images and visions of our dreams

unconscious?

By

Was

many

I

came from the student loan

was holding

Miami and

years that

called Brian, invited

I

a

brand new

office, I

had been

passport and a reservation

a connecting flight to Lima. It

would be the

would be fully prepared for anything.

him and Stephanie

to dinner,

South

and spent the

last

13

of my loose change on fresh pasta, vegetables, salad greens, and

a bottle

of

1968 California cabernet sauvignon. also

I

bought

a journal, a small, leatherbound

volume of 250 blank

pages.

\3jS

"Can

have your car?" Brian helped himself to another plateful of

I

"My

salad.

car?"

come

"Yeah. In case you don't

back."

Stephanie frowned, but her eyes were smiling. "Brian!"

He

shrugged. "Anything can happen. He's going into the Amazon,

and we're talking about

body work and new "Is tall

it

and

1964 Porsche, Stephanie.

a

seats,

but

some

Needs

convertible.

with a straight nose, strong chin, auburn

worked

know,"

I said. "I

and blue

being tough. Medical school does

at

haven't been there yet."

Oogly Boogly Indians and inculcated

"You'll probably be captured by

into their tribe," Brian said. "All they'll find 5

Heading upriver scrawled

thirteenth.

hair,

people.

"I don't

I

A

could handle that."

dangerous?" she asked casually. Stephanie was a handful. She was

athletic,

eyes. Effortlessly beautiful, she

that to

I

smiled

down

with a nine-inch

at the gift

steel

is

a soiled diary with 'February

in pencil

on the

last

page."

Brian had brought, an authentic Bowie knife

blade in an oiled black leather sheath.

"Or," said Stephanie, "you'll find refuge in the altered state of some jungle brew and never

"You

don't think

come back

much of

She smiled into her wine searched to death in the

Metzner.

all this,

glass.

and

do you?"

"Psychedelic drug therapy was re-

sixties.

Albert

Hofman, Grof,

Leary,

." .

.

"LSD federally.

fifties

to reality."

wasn't researched to death,"

I'm not interested in

I said. "It

was condemned to death,

LSD, and I'm not

talking about clinical

research in psychedelics."

In

1943

Dr.

Albert

diethylamine, a substance

Hofman

had

two thousand times

most powerful psychoactive then known. research

was followed by unprecedented

A

synthesized

lysergic

decade of subsequent

social experimentation.

Dance of the Four Winds

acid

as strong as mescaline, the

By

clinical

the time

the substance was federally banned,

two

had

Americans

million

was estimated

it

experienced

Much

consciousness- altering, experiences.

between one and

that

or

life- altering,

1960s, and early 1970s was funded by the U.S. government. tapped, and so had

my

thesis adviser,

Technical Services branch of the

least

I

had gotten

Army Chemical Corps and

by the

CIA

at

of the research of the 1950s,

to join a couple of

investigating mind-altering substances for the

the

hundred others

government and the Chemical

Warfare Service. Their programs included both animal and human experimentation. There was a lot of participate.

The government

money

in

it,

and manv academics opted to

research opportunities were unlimited.

We had

turned them down. I

watched Stephanie

between

us.

sip her wine,

ing tripping schizophrenics."

mice and Japanese fighting I lifted

"I'm not interested in that.

"A I

table

"We're neophytes, Stephanie. Whether we're wearing white lab

coats, administering drugs to

glass.

and leaned toward her over the

fish,

or interview-

the bottle of cabernet and filled her

It's a

blade of grass."

blade of grass?"

nodded.

I

knew what was coming would provoke

Strauss, the anthropologist, said that the civilized

the workings of a blade of grass before he can primitive seeks to

know

man

"Claude Levi-

her.

needs to understand

comprehend the

universe.

The

the nature of the universe so that he can appreciate

the dynamic beauty of a blade of grass." She looked at Brian as though she

were expecting him to say something about

all

this.

I

drained the wine

bottle into his glass.

"I'm interested in folks states

who

have entered and explored nonordinary

of consciousness for hundreds or maybe thousands of

not students, they're masters, and

if

of consciousness, access heightened

they

states

know how

years. They're

to enter other realms

of awareness, healing

states,

then

know something that I want to know." Her eyes narrowed. "And you expect to hack your way through the jungle and find some medicine man who's willing to share his mythology they

and

his ritual

"Yes,"

with you."

I said. "I

"Here's to

He glasses

it,"

do."

said Brian.

raised his glass

and so did

I.

chimed over the center of the

longer than ours, but

When

it

Stephanie smiled and table.

could have been

they had gone and

the plates

my

lifted hers.

Hers seemed to hold

its

The note

imagination.

had been scraped,

South

I

dug my un-

>>

15

opened journal from first

my

duffel bag, cracked

it

open, and folded back the

page.

Emerson public,

and

my

said that those first lines

who

write to themselves write to an eternal

were necessarily melodramatic. February 7y 1973

If the unconscious

mind communicates with

us through the imag-

ery of dreams, draws from a lexicon of images to talk to us, can

not learn

its

vocabulary and talk back to

sciously with the unconscious? Enter

Are there

states

of consciousness

in

it?

it?

Communicate con-

Alter

it?

which we can

disinhibit the

body's latent healing capabilities?

Let us begin with the

The only way

states

of consciousness.

to study consciousness

direcdy.

16

Dance of the Four Winds

is

to experience

its states

we

ignorance toboggans into know

all

and trudges up

ignorance again.

to

e,

You

can

empire

Cuzco only

fly into

lies

in

in the

an Andean valley

thousand

feet

airfield

above sea

Lxa Ine

level.

unnavigable.

captain muttered something through the crackling distortion of

the cabin loudspeakers. red,

cummings

morning. The capital of the ancient

at eleven

afternoon updrafts make the approach to the

The

e,

and the thirdhand

narrow gap

in the

The "Fasten

DC-8

Seatbelts" sign blinked erratically in

banked sharply to the

left,

winged through

overgrown mountain range, and entered the

Cuzco, the oldest continuously inhabited

city

on

valley

a

of

the continent.

Scarcely eight hours before, sometime around 2 a.m., the ten-hour flight in Lima.

The night was humid and

starless.

had been deadened by the

all-night flight, neutralized

by the

from Miami had ended senses

rescent lights

and the conditioned

air

always was, by the smell of a foreign frying in old

tang of sea

oil,

passport,

Lima was

diesel fuel,

struck, as I

pork rinds

exhaust fumes, industrial stench, and a barely discernable

official

with brilliantined hair squinted up

and granted

duffel bags

terminal,

city.

was

I

fluo-

air.

An aduana

my my

of the cabin, and

My

me

and backpack,

and waited for

my

ninety days in his country. settled into a corner

I

at

me, stamped

made

a nest of

of the concrete- and- tile

connecting flight to Cuzco.

South

>>

17

February 10, 1973 I feel like

when

will see

my

averting

eyes,

the sun

denying the ugliness of the

rises. It's

city that I

the romantic in me.

Lima. Another capital of another third world country.

Four hundred years ago, the Spanish conquerors and Lima

est that stretched to the sea,

hub of

South America,

colonial

century.

The

is

leveled a pine for-

a desert city.

now conquered

Once

been nationalized, the republic

industries have

the

by the twentieth gov-

is

erned by a military junta, and a third of the country's fifteen million have

come

on

here to live in the squalor of the pueblos jovenes

the outskirts of town, to find

work

to

buy bread or cornmeal or

beans. I

I

don't want to see

did see

many

it,

this.

of course. Although

I

would return

times during the next decade,

hotels,

and other charms,

come

to

know

its

museums,

always think of the city as

I

it

colonial

saw

that

it

when

the sun hovered above the horizon like a perfect

ball, its rays filtered

out by thegarua, the coastal fog that mingled

morning from the orange

shall

I

to Lima, pass through

air,

with the smog and blanketed the capital of Peru in mist the color of wet ashes.

Cuzco was breathtaking— literally. The high- altitude

air

was

sparkling fresh, and, like anything worth having, hard to get. eyes

from the sun, the sharp contrasts of

mountain

faces

There

is

and Spanish

tile

a legend that tells

light

cool, bright, I

shielded

my

and shadow patterning the

roofs. I hailed a taxi

and headed downtown.

of Manco Capac, the

Inca, the "son

first

of

the Sun," born in the waters of Lake Titicaca, sovereign ruler of the

Quechua and a

set

Indians,

who, when he had come of

out "toward the

golden rod.

When

hill

age, assembled his brothers

over which the Sun rose."

he reached

this valley

He

carried with

him

surrounded by four great snow-

capped peaks, he plunged the rod into the Earth and

it

disappeared.

The

sacred spot was Cuzco, "the Earth's navel," and here he founded his capital

sometime around

a.d. 1200.

His successors conquered most of Peru and

Bolivia.

The ninth

Inca,

Pachacuti, expanded his territory north to Ecuador and south to Argentina,

18

>>

I

taste

who

his

and to study the use of the ayahuasca you

is

skilled in its preparation

have heard of a

man

Dance of the Four Winds

.

.

.

No, no!

Do

and the not tear

rituals it!"

He

reached across the table and placed a hand on the page that

set to rip

him.

He

from the

He

journal.

I

was

smiled and pulled the open volume toward

unscrewed the cap from the pen and wrote something

in the

upper

of one page.

right corner

'The jaguar path?"

'The journey West. The second Wheel." to

meet

He my

his eyes rose

curious gaze.

'The Medicine Wheel," he I

on the Medicine

cardinal point

blew gentiy on the ink and closed the journal, and

shook

my

said again.

head.

'The Medicine Wheel, the fourfold path of knowledge. Four Winds.

the journey of the

It is

It is also called

the legendary journey that an initiate

undertakes to become a person of knowledge."

He

God's eye from

lifted the

the table.

"Yes?" "Yes.

The Medicine Wheel

though there

exists

figure of worship,

no

for

it,

Wheel

no

just as there are

no human prophet, or son of

The journey through vision

the mandala of the Inca shaman,

is

symbol

real

writings,

None

a deity.

al-

no

are needed.

a journey

undertaken to awaken

and to discover and embrace the Divine within

oneself, to reestablish

the Medicine

is

one's connection with Nature and the mystery of the cosmos, to acquire

and the wisdom to use them."

skills

He

turned the God's eye by twisting

its

base between his finger and thumb.

'The Four Winds

He

pass."

marked out

are

like the cardinal

points of a

com-

pointed to the base of the God's eye. "It begins in the South, the

serpent path, where one goes to shed the past, just as the serpent sheds skin. "is

The

jaguar path in the West," he pointed to the

where one

loses fear

path to discover the

and

faces death. In the

wisdom of the

ancients

home

East— the

flight to the

North one

is

the

most

on

takes the

difficult

dragon

union with the

a

arm of the

life

its

the cross,

cross, "the

Sun and the journey back

to exercise one's vision in the context of one's

legends claim that this

point

and to create

Divine. Finally," he pointed to the tip of the right eagle path of the

left

to one's

and work. The

journey the shaman under-

takes."

He complete

replaced the God's eye in a jacket pocket. "It this

journey of

persons of knowledge.

initiation.

There are few

Many who tread this

is

said that

few

true shamans, few true

path stop along the way and are

South

>

71

She shook her head. "Tell me," 'There it.

.

.

.

"What

"A

is

something

else. It is

from somewhere

It is

is it?" I

bird. Like

'What does "I don't

not yours.

Maximo about

spoke with

I

else."

confess, she

an eagle.

I said.

It

my

had

too

is

attention.

following you.

It is

.

.

.

tracking you."

want?"

it

know," she

said.

"And you

will

not

know

you encoun-

unless

ter these forces."

"How do

I

'There are

many ways,"

do

that?"

to

Maximo.

I

think

it is

"You must

she nodded.

folded her hands in her lap and

nodded

how to

learn

time you learn to see."

March

Maximo and

them

drawing to a

is

close. In three

goes into recess, and Professor Morales and

sity

1973

10,

My

Anita have something in store for me.

ticeship" with

She

see."

again. "Yes," she said, "I will speak

"appren-

days the univer-

I will set

out

trek-

king.

They have been very good some provocative

Maximo

to me.

material, and,

all

in

I've benefited

all,

with them, observing a folk healing practice

and workmanlike. Living here,

me

has provided

at its

most

with

from

living

practical

even for a couple of weeks, has

if

me something about faith. The faith in the who line up to this door every day. The poor,

taught

eyes of the peo-

ple

the middle class,

even a superior court judge. The other day, an enterprising old Indian

woman

set

up her charcoal

and

brazier in the street

fried

dumplings for the gathering. People on crutches, paralyzed, depressed, skin-diseased, diabetic.

Old Testament. Or

the

New

.

.

.

It's like

Testament.

San Francisco General. In any

case,

something out of the

Or

room

the waiting

at

I'm anxious to get on with

it.

See what the countryside has in store.

Went

to xhcfarmacia today, spent about ten bucks

on

a selection

of

U.S. brand lipsticks for Anita. Still

trying to sort through her explanation of the

I've tried to press

Maximo,

her for more, but she's

yields to his

all

power

running commentary on things

rious relationship. His abrasiveness, so distasteful to

72

I

It

back

at

throat, her heart.

her and shook

was medically not

was resigned to

my

my

feasable, I

condition.

I

felt

.

.

.

head.

knew, but detached

Dance of the Four Winds

i

somehow and and

felt

kind of light that you see

a light, the

That kind of

retina. I

my

opened

in

And

stomach.

then there was

after staring at a light

blink, the light

my

a third time, I closed

nothing but the pressure, the scraping.

and you close your eyes and your

thrill

So when Maximo repeated the procedure

Adrenaline.

my eyes

the nausea had been replaced by a

bulb or a

of an image burned

fire

briefly into

light.

saw something. Anita was leaning forward

eyes and

in

her chair, hands gripping the chair arms, and there was a strange radiance

around

There was a luminescence, a small hazy brightness

her.

head, throat, and her pregnant belly glowed, sort

at

her fore-

of. Fleeting, all

of

it.

I

blinked and looked again through a milky gauziness and saw color around

and

her, green

I

blinked,

rainbow fading

red, like a

"Now do you

wiped

and the colors and "Look!" she

at the

lights

said.

blood coagulating on

a

moment

I will

"Not with your relaxed

I

eyes!

focus,

and

violet,

way

to nothing, and

I

saw the

holographic image over her head. There I

it.

and the aura of

'What do you I started

like a

saw

for an instant, but vivid. I

my

see?"

stopped trying, and there

never forget.

head of a horse superimposed

brightiy colored blue

What do you

my focus,

Anita's forehead dissolved, just gave

softened

my eyelids, tried to focus,

were gone.

My heart was pounding. came

in the mist.

see?"

held

light

my

breath and looked at her,

around her became more

distinct,

almost gaseous.

see?"

to laugh. "Colors,"

I said.

"And

a ..."

I

hesitated.

"A

horse?"

"Yes!" She laughed and clapped her hands.

'That

Anita asked

Her

said

is it,"

aura.

if I

Was

Maximo.

saw her it

He

dropped

his

hand on

my

shoulder.

aura.

really?

"I think so," I said.

"What

color

is it?"

"Blue. Soft blue and

"That

And

is

.

.

.

violet."

right."

there were other things, but they were vague and lacked shape.

Lights like

amorphous

fireflies

spinning on the outskirts of the

shapes. If

I

circle.

Hazy, luminous,

looked too hard they were gone. There was a small

cat— I don't know what kind— at her chest or

in

it, it

was

South

difficult to qualify

»

79

location, but

its

saw

I

it

where the surface of her blouse gave way,

there

became almost diaphanous.

"Look at

my

Do

aura.

I

me," she

at

you

said.

"Do

not focus, look with your third eye. Look

see it?"

did. I couldn't help laughing.

"Close your eyes." I

closed them, and instead of blackness, the background was gray and

the light and the colors lingered.

I

lost Anita,

but what she called her aura

remained, but different, yellow.

'What do you

see?"

"Yellow." "Yes!"

Then

it

was

glowing

red,

like a

stop light on a rainy day. "Is

red?"

it

she asked. I

nodded. She could change the color. She was testing me.

Then remember

I

could see her. The aura shifted and

raising

my

hand and touching

were closed. She was coming again,

violet

closer.

my

Her hand,

me and

reached out toward

I

I

could see Anita.

eyelids to faintly

lifted

make

I

sure they

glowing blue and

my

hand

touch

to

hers. I

and

I

my

opened

smiling. I

eyes as

began to

we

touched. She was there, standing before me,

The trauma,

cry.

the tension, the release, was too much,

was overcome with emotion,

just

emotion.

I

laughed and cried and

Maximo washed my face and chest with a damp cloth. You did well, my friend. Now you must work to keep your

five

terraces

a steep

hundred were

embankment and found feet high.

at least

The

slope below

two hundred yards

Dance of the Four Winds

ourselves

on top

was terraced

long, six to eight

feet high,

We skirted the

and faced with smooth, interlocking granite blocks.

edge of the terraces along a pathway paved with large flagstones and descended to the village

The people ones.

live in

at the

base of the

hill.

between poor and primitive

is

important here. The

ancient thatched- roof stone huts and

more modern adobe

distinction

They farm

the fields and terraces,

grow corn and

and chickens and llamas on the same land that three thousand years ago.

The men

farm, the

potatoes, raise pigs

their ancestors cultivated

women

help in the harvest and

weave.

There was stuff

from the

a tienda sporting a bent

city,

and pitted Coca-Cola

sign, selling

such as soda and beer and some canned and packaged

foods, soap, cigarettes, a few hardware items, bridles, belts, burlap and nv-

lon bags. There was a

were seeds, grains, coca

little

yes.

But poverty

Some and the

is

market area on one of the two

tea, a

few

fruits, baskets,

There

clothing. Primitive,

subjective.

miles to the south, the altiplano

fruits

some

streets.

we purchased were

tropical:

fell

away

mangoes,

low jungle

to

valleys,

a papaya, a couple

of

streaked orange bananas.

The

fruit

stand was tended by an Indian

girl

of ten or twelve: dark

complexion, Asian eyes, high cheekbones, and a long, curved nose. Her shining black hair was pulled back in a long braid that

narrow- brimmed

hat.

She wore a long black

skirt, a

fell

from beneath

red-and-green patterned

blouse, and a burlap shawl. She

was shv with strangers and

our purchase, a hard-faced older

woman

appeared

a

in the stone

the casita behind her. She eyed us suspiciously, but

we

as

selected

doorway of

when Morales

greeted

her in Quechua, her face softened toward him, although she couldn't keep her eyes from

my

clothes

and the bandanna that covered the mark on

my

forehead.

He interpreted his conversation for me afterward. "We are looking for a healer," he said after the pleasantries. "Your companion "Well, yes.

He

is

sick?"

has a very bad stomach ailment."

"He should take manzanilla tea." "Do you have some for sale?" "Oh yes!" she said, and disappeared transaction with the

girl,

into the house.

We completed our

and then the mother returned with

a

little

cloth

bundle.

'Thank you, senora," he

said,

and asked the

price.

South

91

cc

No, no.

Please take

He bowed

the cause of his sickness

'There

came

for

it

your

and said thank you. is

sick friend."

am

"I

not physical, he will need to see a good healer."

one," she said, "and he

is

sure this will help, although if

is

A

very powerful.

who

sorcerer

summer." She pointed over our shoulders, toward the

to Zunita last

we had

"He is a magician." "Do you know this laika's name?" "He is called don Jicaram." We thanked the woman and headed west. "So shouldn't we go to that village?" I asked when he had recounted the direction of the village that

hill in

passed by.

the conversation.

He

looked to the western horizon. "No," he

and there

direction,

and

villages

is

other

said. "It is in the

only an hour or so of daylight. There are other

spoke of sounds

this sorcerer she

like the traveling variety.

He

won't be there now."

"But perhaps they know where he village

of

his

"Not

is

from,"

I said.

"He must have

a

own."

necessarily. I

have heard of some

who

keep moving from

village

to village."

Morales

set off

with determination, and

his guest. I tried to guess his agenda.

of

his little

I

had assumed

I

reminded myself that

I

was

had never mentioned the purpose that he

perhaps the village of his birth. Fine. But

relatives, I

walking tour, and

He

my

was going to

visit

time was limited and

was getting anxious.

As the sun

set

and the high- altitude

chill set in,

we stopped by the edge

of a pine grove, where a tumble of smooth granite boulders marked the of some unidentifiable Inca structure. Morales built a neat

of twigs, dried moss in

its

center,

and

I lit it

the coals.

I

removed the bandanna from

now

a faint reddish circle that

into

my

looked

as

in corn husks

my head, though

lighter.

We

and baked

and he gazed

I'd pressed the

site

a grid

at the

in

mark,

rim of a glass

forehead.

'Tell

me

about

in graphic detail.

He

this,"

he

said. I

"I don't

know,"

described the carving of

I said.

it?"

third eye

he asked.

"I think I

was the victim of an elaborate

designed to induce massive hallucinations."

« »

my

was delighted.

"So what do you make of

92

with a disposable

and dried beef and potatoes wrapped

ate fruit

little fire:

Dance of the Four Winds

ritual

"Do you "Plenty.

He

really?"

explained, does

it

know

I

much

"That leaves

that

un-

is

cut me, and

it felt

though permanent

as

was three days ago and look

that

at it!"

can see."

"When

I

saw

and told Anita, she was pleased, but what

that horse

if

seen a ... a salamander! She could have agreed to anvthing."

I'd

"But you did not see

"You think

it

was

'These so-called its

his head.

Maximo

that

damage was done, but "I

cocked

not?"

that

and

we

a

salamander, because

personify as animals.

to think of

I like

A manifestation

"Like any theory in this realm," 'Well,

them

I said.

as animals,

a

is

spir-

merging of vou

as a

in time

and

and thev assume

good theory

at least."

"Untestable."

a dream we may witness some very real when we were awake being interpreted into symsame way you may define one of these Nature energies as an

what do you expect? In

we

bols. In the

them

of an archetypal energy

form when we connect with them. That

event that

a horse."

of Nature, elemental

are energies

space. Primitive consciousness personifies

that

was

real?"

power animals

a force in Nature.

it

experienced

animal, but that interpretation does not take place in our rational, reasoning

mind— that

neocortex that you spoke of to

my

class.

Theory and the

of theories are part of our rational processes. They are

testing

and

aca-

"But //Anita has 'connected' with

this

intellectual

demic. Those conventions cannot apply to these phenomena." 'That's a fine argument,"

energy form and sees

it

I said.

as a horse,

and

if I see

it

as a horse,

and

all

common

place on, say, a symbolic level, then that implies a

this takes

conscious-

ness."

"A common ground," he said, and nodded emphaticallv. 'That is why the symbols are universal. You find them in every culture in the world. What do you suppose it is that makes people respond in the same way to a particular painting, story,

or song?

expressing something that sciousness?" sizzled

and

He

universal even

is

not appealing to that felt

common

ground,

deep within humanity's con-

wood on

the

fire.

It

popped and

of sparks arced to the ground and died. said,

"knows

that there

though we each perceive

ness and a world that

being, yet

Is it

commonly

placed another chunk of

a cluster

'The shaman," he is

is

we

all

it

is

a sea

of consciousness that

from our own shores, an aware-

share, that can be experienced

seldom seen by any.

And

the

shaman

is

by every

living

the master of this other

South

93

He

world.

lives

with one foot in

ground,— "and one foot

this

world"— he placed

world of

in the

spirit."

"The conscious and the unconscious?"

He

"If you must," he said.

watching the

We

and stared

fell silent

paused.

with his

firelight play

staring across our

fire,

hawklike features.

The

at the fire.

charring, cracking, and the flames

asked.

I

remember

I

soft,

hand on the

his

fresh log

was burning now,

grew from the contours of

"Buckminster Fuller— the architect?"

I

looked up to see

its sides.

if

he recog-

nized the name.

"Yes?"

"He once

wood of the

He common

said that fire

is

the release of the energy of the

tree."

rocked back and grinned. 'That

is

wonderful," he

that

is

why many

"Another

The Sun. And we

"Of

we

are just temporal forms

course," he said.

our people.

And

"And

"Do you

is

all

to her

come from

the same

of that energy."

power animals

the

the light, the aura that

admit that you saw around Anita,

body of energy,

is."

aboriginal people refer to even rocks as

'thou.' Ultimately, animal, vegetable, mineral,

least to

said.

ground. The energy of the Sun, the source of everything there

"Maybe source.

Sun from the

are another form, at

you

are so unwilling to

what the flame

is

to this log: a

formless, radiating her energy."

believe that?" I asked. I felt like a kid, telling ghost stories

by

a campfire. "I believe that

ness, this

man

has become accustomed to this state of conscious-

waking awareness, and

it is

presumptuous to believe that

only state in which our perceptions are

He

poked

and collapsed "It

on

is

at the fire

in a

pure

with a

shower of

folly,"

he

jective

and to deny the

real."

and the chunk of wood

"And such

you value so

reality

the

split in half

sparks.

said.

the very objectivity that

stick,

it is

a belief places severe limitations

dearly. Experience

of any experience

is

is

always sub-

to deny a part of oneself."

March 15 Writing by the lingering light of the himself in his poncho. I've rolled out

So many

stars.

feel closer

94

fire.

my

Morales has blanketed sleeping bag.

In the darkness of this night and at this altitude you

to them.

Dance of the Four Winds

He

the nature of awareness,

as is

wonderful companion. Somehow, arguing over such

a

is

more

when

persuasive

lecture hall.

The

subjectivity,

comparative mythology,

one's classroom

seem more

issues

issues

in

is

more

tangible,

etc.

Nature and not a poetic,

and

less

discursive.

The concept of

the

A

as

an individual holding dual citizenship

and the unconscious mind has

in the conscious tion.

shaman

she regards with as

much

and reverence

respect

we

"un-altered" waking state in which

Western science reality.

now

only

is

Quantum

all

it,

that

Yet the shaman begins with

good

this

The

separation of

own

and

It's

rift

belief—

paradigm. Shamanism

Muhammed

or Krishna.

find a hatun laika?

Man

we were

between

from Nature provokes the re

God

hell

out of me.

creating the birds, the in the

created stewards, caretakers of the Earth.

man and Nature happened

appealing to think that

the neocortex, first

this

of the Earth to serve man. Shamans believe

all

contrary, that

That the

influenced by

is

experience, not as the

religion,

Note: Look up passage in Genesis trees,

living.

stuff.

worships no Christ, no Buddha, no

we

imagina-

assign to the

assumption— no, with

of a preexisting philosophy,

will

we

as

accustomed to

outcome of an event

a belief acquired in the course of his

So where

are

my

which he or

approaching the subjective nature of

physics, the

our observation of

result

fired

primitive explorer in realms of consciousness

self- reflexive

able to distinguish

it

is

not in question.

happened along with the advent of

thought, awareness of

self,

when he was

between himself and others, himself and

his

environment, good and bad. Isn't the

Exodus from the Garden merely an

allegory of this

Cartesian revolution? This "I am," this conscious separation of

from Nature?

Six, eight

thousand years ago, with the

Man

self-assertion

of the neocortex?

"Of course

it is

an allegory," said Morales

over a breakfast of tea and

'There

way

it

is

nothing wrong with the

has been told, the

when

I

put the question to him

fruit.

way

it

tale,"

he

said.

'The problem

is

the

has been taken to heart and taught by the

South

95

Instead of an elegant description of an historical event or evolu-

priests.

tionary step, It is

it is

seen as a

dogma

literal

when

always dangerous

statement of

fact, as

the metaphor of

humanity's condition.

myth becomes

a religious

enforced by priests."

"Our shamans." "What?"

'The

priests."

"No." "Hasn't the priest taken the place of the shaman in the Western culture?"

"No," he

'The

said.

priest

is

a functionary.

Men

enter the priesthood

and come to a preexisting dogma. They come to understand it

and teach

it.

Their experience of religion

of direct communion. Their communion

They accept

experience.

the faith and

its

the caretakers of myth, not the makers.

source of his faith

is

his

own

is

is

and maintain

it

an experience of faith, but not

with a tradition, rarely with an

conventions and

The shaman

is

They

its faults.

are

mythmaker, and the

a

experience of the Divine in Nature."

March 16 Have never walked so much

in

my

life.

Have no

idea

how many

miles we've covered.

We've

visited

two more

bypassed another. tables

We

purchased in

villages,

live

on

villages,

much

a diet

the same as the

of ground corn,

first,

fruits

and

and vege-

an occasional piece of meat, tea made

with fresh spring water, and snacks of Morales's yucca and corn paste. I've

become accustomed

to

its

blandness and

it is

quite forti-

fying.

We

continue our discussions. Wandering across this vast plateau,

the snow-capped

Amazon place

Andes

to the south,

in the distance, the jungle lowlands

I

have begun to

and more of an inhabitant. The

of the true nature of

my

home.

I

feel less

vista

is

don't need

backpack, waterproof parka, thermal socks.

I

of a

and the

visitor to this

a constant reminder all

this

look

at

stuff— frame

Morales and

home here. He moves through the forests and across the meadows with a lighthearted assurance, an elegant simplicity that he

is

at

can't help but admire.

96




He

takes nothing for granted.

Dance of the Four Winds

I

His contentment faces

is

the same contentment that I've seen

of the people of the

little

a hill or a gently sloped terrace or near the

The

we

hamlets that

on the

find at the base of

bank of a stream.

values of the rural Indians are dictated by the land they live

on, not assigned by the community. the world, geographically,

is

I

remind mvself that most of

inhabited by such people, ruled by

such standards.

No

great revelation there,

He

hardly needs to point out that Nature informs the primitive

it's

just a firsthand perspective.

philosophies of the world directiy. Nature exits the Judeo-Christian scene after condemnation in Genesis and only appears in

here and there— usually in

Moses climbing

a

moments of epiphany and

mountain to

receive the

cameo

revelation:

commandments,

Jesus

going into the wilderness for forty days and returning with message.

We

.

.

continue to talk about such things.

And

others.

buried Inca structure, tumbled down, reclaimed by

and we

talk

about

his ancestors.

He

I

itself,

would

whose hymns

pass a halfgrass,

whose "testament

is

Na-

music of the

rivers

and the winds."

such people exist

like I

once wanted to

are the

like to believe that

We

meadow

inevitably brings the conversa-

tion around to the shaman, the individual ture

his

.

believe in Santa Claus.

As

for this

don Jicarum, we continue

one knows where he

is

to hear of him. Hearsay.

No

from, but his reputation has spread on the

wings of rumor.

They say he can change In the morning

named

the weather.

we head west

southwest, where there

is

a healer

Jesus.

South

97

8

The unknown always passes for the marvelous. —Tacitus

Had

not been for

it

the "evil

Twenty face.

his reputation as a sorcerer

years ago a stroke

of wiping

chapped and

it

with the

first

His

eyelid

flaky.

drooping over most of

me

of dona Rosa's.

He village.

with

bits

on

down

me, then

knuckle of his right hand, so the

was nothing but

a flap of

lip

a

was

dead skin

but the good eye, the right one, reminded

his eye,

It glistened.

and weather-worn adobe hut on the edge of the

woven rug

in the

middle of the swept

bed made of pine needles, and

me

his haunches,

woven

stared

including his

a

tile,

half straw.

dirt floor.

little altar

mud

There

to the Virgin

that villagers brought food to Jesus twice a day.

cross-legged before him, and Morales squatted, resting comfort-

I sat

little

left side,

permanent pout, and he had

of rock and straw showing, and the roof was half

a clay stove, a

on

in a

village idiot.

blocks were bare, inside and out, gray- brown dried

Mary. Morales told

ably

left

lived in a time-

The adobe

Jesus sat

was

had paralyzed much of his

The corner of his mouth curved down

a habit

and master healer of susto—

eye"— Jesus Zavala probably would have been the

bag. at

He

and Jesus grunted and drew three coca

leaves

blew on them, dropped them on the mat,

arid

from a

we

them. Without moving his head he raised his eye to look

his eye

moved

past

my

face

and roved the room, the

all

at

walls, the

ceiling. cc

The

rastreo de

coca" whispered Morales.

"A

simple form of divina-

tion."

Jesus slapped the

98

« »

mat with the palm of

Dance of the Four Winds

his

hand, drew three more

from the bag, blew on them, and tossed them to the mat. They

leaves

to lid

form of

a

V

with a

line

under

bad eye with

his

it.

fell

Jesus raised his head and touched the lower

then leveled the finger

his forefinger,

my

at

face.

"Black magic," said Morales, and then asked him a question in

Quechua. For a reply the old

and moved the thumb and Morales grinned.

lifted his

finger

hand above

his head,

palm

He

of questions,

fired off a string

his head.

says that a powerful sorcerer has sent a large bird after you.

you offended any

Have

sorcerers recently?"

Naturally the incident in

Ramon's hut suggested

and asked what Jesus recommended

didn't think so

flat,

up and down.

bird," he said.

nodded and shook

and Jesus variously

"He

"A

man

little

I

but

itself,

do about

I

said I

this bird.

The

old man's answer, gleaned from another series of rapid-fire yes/no questions,

was

that this bird

need to confront beware.

I

we

will find

me

until I

knew what

had done, that

I

as

are looking for a

don

twice

watched

now

I

hatun laika"

in the past four days:

grunted.

was

It

He

watched

like a laugh.

raised his hand,

and then toward me. Then he brought

I said.

He

don

his eye

"A powerful sorknow where

cripple. I

could not

Jicaram.

widen

as

though with

eyed Morales with suspicion,

palm up, gestured toward Morales

his

palm to

didn't understand. I looked at Morales, frowned,

his chest

with a dull

and shook

slap.

my head. And

Jesus spoke, a short series of forced grunts, for the stroke

unable to

to

caught the words hatun laika and the name

Jesus' withered face,

then me. Confusion?

I

me

him?"

we had heard

He

would

Jicaram. Has he heard of him and does he

Morales nodded and put the question to the old

surprise.

I

told

this.

understand the Quechua, but

I

He

have any questions for senor Zavala?"

him we

"Tell

known

stalk

and, eventually, confront the sorcerer.

it,

agreed to do

"Do you cerer

would

had

left

him

articulate.

cc

What

did he say?"

Morales's face was not altogether expressionless;

might have been raised

a quarter

of an inch. "That he

I

think one eyebrow

is

with us now," he

said. I

turned

my

head and smiled back

at the disabled

Indian

who

thought

himself a master shaman.

"Ayee

me"

I said.

Thank you,

in

Quechua. Morales got up and placed

South

99

a coin

among

the pine needles at the base of the altar to the Virgin Mary.

He place his hand on my arm and I looked He dropped his hand, reached behind him,

Jesus led us to the door.

down

He was

him.

at

and drew

smiling.

up the seat of his pants as though wiping himself. The mouth curved up in a grin, and the skin around his good

his fingers

healthy side of his

eye crinkled in

good humor, and he wagged

me and shook

his finger at

his

head.

We left the village and walked in silence for at least half a mile, heading At length we stopped and Morales turned and looked back

west.

direction of the village, but

"Why

had disappeared behind the

it

Wipe

did he stop you at the door?

himself?

in the

crest

of

Did

that

a

hill.

mean

something to you?" "In the jungle,"

We were

gative. ..."

We

grove.

never

"That night with Ramon. Ayahuasca

I said.

in the forest again, or

knew

we came out

until

'What happened?" he

is

a pur-

could have been a eucalyptus

the other side.

asked, grinning.

my guts out— that's when

threw up, vomited

"First I

it

I

saw the snake."

"Yes?"

'Then

I

ran into the bushes and shit everything in

my

bowels.

was

It

incredible. Violent. Cathartic." "I shouldn't "I

wiped

my

wonder." ass

with a couple of leaves

.

and they mustVe been poison ivy or a jungle stomach now, leaning against

.

."

He

started to laugh.

relative."

a tree. "I got a rash

He was

".

.

.

holding his

you wouldn't

believe." I

turned, faced the direction from which we'd come, and screamed, in En-

"How

glish,

that

know!" And

was supporting him and

and joined

where rash

the hell did you

I

in.

The

fact

bought Anita's

was

sat,

laughing,

"You

down

slid

on the ground.

I fell

to

the tree

my knees

that I'd purchased ointment at the farmacia

lipstick

and

was gone, but the thought of

"When

my companion

I'd it

run out of it just the day before. The lingered.

civilized folk," said Morales,

wiping the

tears

from

his eyes.

you're not pissing in a creek, you're wiping your ass with poison

leaves!"

"Well, what about it?"

I

asked

when we'd

picked ourselves up and

"How do you explain his "How do you explain his knowing," repeated Morales thoughtfully. I shook my head, waved my hand in vague sort of way. "No, no, let's

were on our way.

knowing?"

not get off on semantics and philosophical

100

my

and

past

path of knowledge.

thought: Seems that those

inevitably



with someone."

Dance of the Four Winds

L

Her

widened and her brow and

eyes

ears

moved back

in

an involuntary

spasm.

She drew away from me, scooted up against the pillows, stopped with

"What did you

her back against the sofa.

say?"

"You heard me."

"What

cc

What

Anger.

this!"

is

are

you doing?"

"What am I doing?" stood and

I

slid into

my

water and leaned against the

pants and walked away. kitchen countertop.

tile

palpitations there.

was almost hyperventilating.

realized that I

The demon

acting. Systemically.

my

chest,

my

A

throat. ...

wrapped around

later

a glass

of

put a hand to

My

from

whole body was

my

re-

stomach, through

she was behind me, a towel

her, held in place over her breasts.

How

could

I

demanded.

I

How

could you

." .

.

what?"

She shook her head, looked thing.

tips

jealously rising

minute

"What's happening here!"

"What!

The

I

of my fingers were tingling,

my chest and felt the .and

I

drew

I

Then

at the floor as

"You have me followed? Then you

wait?

though searching

You

wait to accuse

some-

for

me when

we're making love?"

A nervous this.

laugh caught in

Don't turn

around."

this

I

my throat and I shook my head. "Don't do my water glass. "I didn't have you

drained

followed."

'Turn

We

around? Turn what around!

it

got over

it,

but she was

believe that I could describe the It

spooked her and,

me it

lasted for

we

that

I

knew how he had touched

her.

don't believe she ever really trusted

happened again,

a

month

later,

but

I

kept

me

year, every so often I

it

to myself,

would catch her looking

out of the corner of her eye. I

was

Some

part of her

at

would

a little nuts.

January

I

Wouldn't

agreed to attempt a committed relationship, and although

always suspect that

A

it.

I

most of the

me, evaluating

man,

believe this!"

I can't

She wouldn't believe

enough,

ironically

after that night. It

and, although

right.

2,

1975

dream.

am

style

sitting at a white-painted

wrought iron

table in a Spanish-

courtyard with Stephanie. Talking nonsense

West

like Alice in

Won-

163

derland.

I tell

me

ry?)

Next

overalls).

bed.

her that she can choose either to sleep with (or mar-

or to sleep with others (there's an obscure figure in gray I

am

entering a

climb in from the roof,

I

narrow

little

room.

know

I

room where Stephanie like a spider,

that she

still

down

lying in

is

the wall of the

has a sexual debt to pay.

A

sexual debt?

we

In bed

my

"Now we

But

I

Machu

on top of me but

No, we must be making

be face to face before

Picchu,

is

facing toward

can have the baby you want to have."

think to myself,

we must

She

then she turns and looks over her shoulder and

feet, squatting,

says,

In

are having sex.

on the

we

love face to face—

can have a child.

Death Stone, Antonio and

hillock beside the

"put death on the agenda," and, curiously enough, death became

how

panion that

year. Peculiar

of your

are illuminated

I

life

had

I

my

com-

the transient themes, the subtextual patterns,

by hindsight.

thought often of the Medicine Wheel, the journey of the Four

Winds. The mythic South, where you exorcise the past that haunts you,

The West, where you lose fear by facing death, free unknown future. And, although I had no sense of when I

binds you, restricts you. yourself from an

would return

to Peru, if

I

my

would resume

work, return to

engage with the work of the West, death made I

presence

Ramon and

felt.

found myself continually confronted by the specter of death, and

with each confrontation there was a lesson. the missionary, and vision

its

and the

I

It

had begun with the death of

had learned by witnessing, learned something of with death had taught

viracocha. Gloria's flirtation

thing of the drama of psychological healing.

And

me

my

some-

then there was Maria

Luisa, an astonishing, painful demonstration of death in the Western world.

August 22 There

is

a hospital

bed waiting for

me

too.

Maria Luisa was eighty-two. The resident

who had

ministered to

her was probably thirty. So. Twenty-five years from now,

am

164

in

my

early fifties, a child will be

come

the doctor

who

How

will I die?

What

will pull the will I die

born

who

will

grow

when

I

to be-

plug on me.

from? Playing with the concept of

Dance of the Four Winds

future at

life

progressions. ...

I

see myself dying

of a heart condition

an early age. Oh, maybe that child has already been born.

see

I

myself lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by family members not telling

me

the truth.

Denial. Denial. Denial.

Why? Death

is

fearful.

But we incubate

Why

We it

cower so from

within us,

What

a heart condition?

ever really opened

come very

close?

up

it

Have had

a

is

and deny

it

germ within

the condition of

to anyone?

Have

I

when

it

comes.

us.

my

heart?

Have

I

ever allowed anyone to

Perhaps I'm setting myself up to die of a heart/

love condition. That's

Must change

like a

it,

it.

that.

measure of success leading Holly and her family to

hold her imminent death in a than her parents.

Her mind

is

too young to have been permanentiy

imprinted with tradition and taboo. She death, to approach

whelmed with her

it

is

as a life experience.

loss that they

ing them, the lesson she

is

way. Easier for Holly

life-positive

eager, willing to explore

Her

parents are so over-

could well miss the

willing to teach them.

gift

she

is

But her pain

givis

in

the way. I've tried everything. Balancing her energy, visualization

techniques— closing pain

valves, discharging her pain into the

Earth. Today, in a light meditative state, she

saw

a banana.

Holly was seventeen years old and dying of ovarian cancer. She had been referred to

me by

a friend at the University

and we had worked together for spite

six

weeks.

of California Medical School,

Her

cancer had metastasized in

of drug and radiation therapy. All that was

left

was the pain and her

death.

After four weeks she had asked

without her family, and in

Her to

my

if

desperation

she could I

work with me

alone,

took that as a sign of progress.

request was not a rejection of her parents, but a declaration of her need

work with her pain and

face death alone.

Her

attitude

West

toward herself and

165

her disease was healthy. her

illness,

bound

that kept her live. I

We discussed the

importance of examining her past,

her pain, and freeing herself from her obligations, from the to this

life,

from her parent's desperate

asked for their permission to take her to

there, in

my

my home

backyard near the edge of the woods,

we

ties

desire that she

one evening, and and

built a little fire

she consigned to the flames the bits and pieces of her past that haunted her still.

She characterized each one of them with words or simple drawings on

square bits of fine Chinese paper, folded

and we

them or twisted them

sat before the fire for three hours.

We

into shapes,

laughed together, cried to-

gether.

But the pain was getting

in her

which we had continued to work on a banana.

a

banana

The next week she saw tree,

a

way. Then,

at the

end of

whole bunch. She

and, in a light meditative state, could

was the only thing we had to work with, so

I

started to

summon

and eventually there was a whole banana

of us had any idea of

its

although

we were

had seen

significance,

and

I

dream of

the image.

It

encouraged the image, began

to guide her imagery,

it,

a session in

a self-induced trance state, she

tree.

Neither

discouraged her from analyzing

equally curious.

August 31 Breakthrough with Holly.

My

clinical supervisor

keeps insisting that the banana

is

a phallic

symbol, repressed sexuality. Jesus! Let's put her in a pigeonhole in a conventional Freudian rolltop desk!

Then

today, the banana tree acquired roots. I told her to focus

those roots, see

how

they grow, their delicate, translucent

pushing slowly deeper, deeper through the

soil,

on

tips,

deep into the

Earth.

"An underground by a bright blue fect,

stream,"

scarf,

I said.

Her

eyes were closed.

Her

head, covered

was bowed slighdy forward. Her breathing was

from the stomach, her hands hanging loose and relaxed from her

She was good

at this.

"An underground stream of cool,

per-

wrists.

mineral- rich water,

spring water running through a vein in the Earth, a channel in the rock and soil,

quartz crystal walls shining, glowing with phosphorous, and the water

trickles steadily.

166

And

look up.

Look where

Dance of the Four Winds

the roots of the tree have broken

through the

above. Little bits of soil

soil

steadily trickling stream.

Your

fall

roots, the roots

and

of your

tree, thirsty,

that water, seeking to tap into the clear, cool, nourishing vein

reaching down. reaching

.

.

.

.

Feel them.

.

almost

.

There were

.

.

.

New

cells

away by the

are carried

seeking

of the Earth,

forming, roots growing, tenderly

there. ..."

and she drew

tears in her eyes

deep breath, opened

a long,

her eyes, and smiled.

months

Six

later

she died, consciously. In those six months she

achieved a 50 percent to 60 percent reduction in pain.

banana

The

roots

from her

had grown, reached deeply into the Earth, nurtured her with the

tree

cool spring water

we found

there,

and she was able to

her into the

of Napa to run in a

hills

field

release

Her

pain through those same roots, back into the Earth.

much of her

father

had taken

of poppies, and her ashes were

scattered there later.

\22j I

went to

Brazil later that year,

were documented course of

my

in

and the

results

of my work and experiences

Realms of Healing. During that

I

and during the

experienced a lifetime's

later research in Brazilian spiritism, I

worth of paranormal phenomena.

trip,

met Dr. Hernani Andrade,

a physicist

and the director of the Brazilian

Institute for Psycho-Biological Research,

and we became

With Andrade

lifelong friends.

investigate the spirit religions of the

as

my

guide

began to

I

Candomble, the Umbanda, and the

outiawed Quimbanda, techniques of mediumship and astonishing healing skills,

yet

spiritism

all

the while

I

was aware of a fundamental difference between the

of Brazil and the shamanic creed. The practices of spiritism main-

tain a strong subject/object relationship

with the supernatural and the

"spirit

world." Healing and insight are achieved through a medium, a person channels a spirit and becomes the ecstatic states

of

of shamanism are

"spirit" are instruments

will yield his

spirit's

instrument.

of the shaman's consciousness.

or her body and voice to be used by a

never loses control.

The healing

specific to the individual,

The shaman

is

and

and the elements

A

spirit,

a spiritual warrior

and masterfully with the domains that he or she

states

who

spirit

medium

but the shaman

and engages direcdy

visits in

West

the "spirit flight."

167

October 11

Sao Paulo

Dreamed of Antonio

mosa seed pod. Hide and

when

was

I

tree.

seek.

there. This time

ing the trees to help me. pines,

Walking

again.

and they

"Where

is

are

in the altiplano.

remember having

I

he hides

The wind

it,

their

own

off,

and

later I ask

and a bush begins to glow

dream

a similar

to find

light. I

the seed pod?" Antonio laughs and

look very stupid standing there talking to a

and stomp

am

I

has a mi-

by

it

ask-

whispering through the

is

shimmering with

and

He

tree. I

without asking,

tells

me

that I

become angry

think

I

just ten feet away. I

address a

go

my

question

there and find

the pod.

Tonight Andrade has invited

me

to attend a seance.

Called Stephanie. She sounded tense.

Later It's

2 a.m. Exhausted but must write

seance. All

M.D.s and psychologists

meet every Thursday night, that the purpose

died but whose

People

before sleep.

interested in channeling.

were

still

The They

poker game. Andrade explained

who had

tied to their biological experiences.

died unconsciously and were "caught between this

world and the next," the diseases that

down

of the sessions was to heal certain people

spirits

who had

like a

this

still

experiencing their pain, the

had caused

their deaths.

symptoms of

Andrade frequentiy func-

tioned as a sort of spirit therapist. There was a medium, a beautiful

middled-aged Brazilian

woman named

Regina.

We

all

held hands

and she went into a deep trance and "incorporated" a variety of and Andrade engaged them

"spirits,"

therapy dialogue. Three cases, two

in a sort

men and

voice changed remarkably with each.

The

a

of

classical

psycho-

woman, and

session

Regina's

was conducted

in

Portuguese.

Close of session, Regina seems recited

and the

lights are

speaking Spanish. help

168

me

.

«»

.

."

A

tired,

confused.

turned on and suddenly Regina

gentle, tremulous voice.

Andrade

The Lord's Prayer

"Where am

begins to speak to her.

Dance of the Four Winds

She

is

starts I,

God

in great dis-

is

comfort and she

is

scared, her lips are so dry, such a hollowness in

her chest. Andrade explains that she

now beyond

is

death,

no

longer in her former body.

'That

."

confusing me.

is

"Look!" he

move over

.

.

"Look down.

says.

Feel your body." Regina's hands

her dress.

"Are those your hands, your breasts?"

"No.

.

.

.

Andrade

They tells

are

young."

her that she

is

occupying the body of

a

medium. Her

has regained consciousness and awakened from the nightmare

spirit

she was caught

Then Regina "Bombi!

in,

not

me and

looks at

Is that

you,

not quite dead.

fully alive,

my

gasps.

one?"

little

stand up, knock over

I

and Regina throws herself into

chair,

my

arms. "Help me!

my

Help

me, please." I

go

blank.

Andrade and another

Andrade counsels called

me by

her.

I

that name.

pull her

listen in a daze.

As

I listen,

away from me and

my

Only

grandmother

Andrade encourages

her, tells

her to look about her and see that there were others there to help, that

it is

safe to reach

out and be guided into the next world, and

she starts to see things, identifV her mother, her father, her

husband— my grandfather— by name.

Her

pain and discomfort diminish, she

Andrade

tells

her that she

is

feels

younger, stronger, and

leaving the physical world, the night-

marish realm between the worlds.

She turns to

"Thank you

me

again and says:

for being here.

Take care of your

No

the relevant I

will always love

you and be with you.

father."

one here knows about Maria Luisa.

Perhaps Regina was a

than

I

knew

sensitive.

Perhaps she sensed

names and information then, for

I

did not

feel

my

telepathically. I

loss

and obtained

all

know no more now

compelled to analyze the experience.

Andrade was sympathetic, yet matter of

fact

about the whole thing.

West

I

was

169

moved, deeply, and admittedly consoled by the thought that mother had been released from her suffering and allowed to But

I

my

grand-

die.

had had enough of death. October 13

Could

have done more for her? Eased her suffering and helped

I

her to die in Miami?

I'm returning to Peru. Tired of being stalked by death,

Booked I

a flight:

suspect

my

170

>

193

Sacred places.

There

a place in the jungle.

is

me

chilled

go back

I'll

come

I've

Something.

there.

there,

for. I

An hour from

.

Something

.

.

though the thought

think

here.

me. Fear. That's what

scares

I'll

"Have you eaten?" I

me

my side. He sat beside He nodded, stared across

had not heard him approach, but he was by

in the sand.

my

closed

I

journal and said no.

the lagoon.

"You

welcome

are

"Thank you,"

He

shook

here," he said. "I

I said.

his head.

was not

'They

he said slowly, "the Nature

.

.

.

.

certain.

.

." .

."he looked to the south, "do not

my

."he looked into

see,"

eyes, "... of things."

Letter

The Nature of

Ramon

"There I

"Yes,"

I

on

the sand, the better to face him.

said, "I ...

He said.

am

sorry."

frowned. "Sorry?"

"Your daughter.

he

words.

an eagle following you."

is

shifted

He

man of few

a

is

things.

cocked

He

his

shook

." .

.

head and looked

his

at

"Honored? But the eagle ..."

"You did not send

me

sideways. "She was honored,"

head and almost smiled. stood up,

I

my

back to the lagoon.

the eagle?"

"No," he said simply. "But

I

have been told, and ...

he

"It isn't,"

said. "It is

from

I

a

feel that

man of

it is

not mine."

great power.

A man

to the

North. The one you have worked with."

"Antonio?"

He

shrugged

"He

told

me

his shoulders

that you

had sent

Ramon's eyes opened wide.

194

»

and nodded

his

head

at the

simple

fact.

it!"

He coughed

Dance of the Four Winds

out a laugh and shook

his

head

though to shake away the grin that was tugging

as

stood and walked away toward the brazier.

and

it

was the only time

may have been

knees. It

ayahuasca, cut and

"Go

him

ever saw

He

laugh.

bent over to

Doubled

He

the embers,

stir

over, hands

on

his

the runniest thing he'd ever heard.

with Ramon, watching him prepare the

afternoon

spent the

I

I

mouth.

at his

mash

plants

and roots and

vines.

back to that place," he said, as the sun

began to sink into the

jungle.

"What

place?"

'Where you were." "This morning?"

He

nodded.

"What do "Sit."

and

He

I

do

there?"

poured the broth from the hanging pot into

followed him to the hollow chihuahuaco

I

inside.

"Prepare yourself.

morrow

night.

Come

How vivid

Summon

back

your power.

when you

tree.

We

He

placed the yage

are ready."

of that night. Retracing

are the sensations

and the jungle play of shadows had resolved

moon was

Surrounded by the

fear I

had

my

sweat.

Was

sounds

me and

smelling the fear?

The

distinct, vibrato, staccato, the

forearm,

What am

I

looming

lived. I

hiss.

black-

its

.

.

it

in the

remember

smooth with

nocturnal

self,

the

The only thing between

were the clothes that

offering myself to

it,

hands shaking, and

it

it

hair matted

jungle noise was

the fear by giving myself to

clothes, clumsily,

which

its

long treble

the darkness and whatever lived in

I lost

my

I

my

Eyes

itself into darkness.

the daylight, returning to

felt in

hand,

of

steps along

the sun had

not yet high.

night. Sixth-sense fear as heavy as the air in sniffing the back

my

when

adjusting, stepping into that tiny clearing before the ruin, a ness, for the

wooden bowl,

will take the yage to-

the river bank and through the water and along the path set

a

it,

I

wore.

tearing off

.

doing?

Standing alone and naked in the middle of the Amazon. Trembling in the heat, defenseless in the claustrophobic darkness, the smell of

my

fear,

sweat, stench of mosquito repellent, radiating out from the clearing.

But the foolishness that I

think, a

I felt,

that peculiar brand of humiliation, was,

symptom of my fear: something to feel instead. My eyes darted The moon was on the rise, and I began to see things in the

here and there.

periphery of

my

vision, different shades

of darkness.

West

195

on

I sat

my

from the

trying to separate the birds cicadas.

.

.

my

particular instrument

on

beetle, the chuckle

and there was the plap of

elephant ear palm. the darkness

And

.

.

there

The passing of I

from nearby

you can almost

rest,

so

I

breathed

.

.

.

of a hard-shelled

and cluck of a giant macaw somewhere ...

horned .

orchestra,

from the

their sounds, the tick-tick-tick

off

.

the sounds,

stomach and conjured up images, visualizations of the creatures of

the jungle, focused

.

on

insects, far-off shrieking

symphony

stare at a violinist in a

sound of that

separate the

from

eyes and meditated

.

you

If

my

and closed

shirt

Filter

far

drop of water on a broad, waxy, green,

a

out the sounds, hear

how

the rest dissipate in

silence themselves.

.

was

my

breathing.

leaves, vines,

The thudding of my

heart. Quickening.

low to the ground.

was moving. And breathing.

And

I

could smell myself beyond the moist tangle of the jungle.

Moving

like a

shadow.

Sitting, sweating,

naked in the moonlight.

\&S I slept

there that night.

me

myself, brought

around I

my

to

Awoke and

my

feet. I

the

memory of the

slipped into

and followed the path to the

waist,

my

cat,

the

memory of

trousers, tied

my

shirt

river.

cleansed myself in the water, followed the stream like an Ariadne

maze of the

thread, out of the

jungle, back to

Ramon's.

\£j/ It

begins with a sound. I lay

the water.

back on the sand, on a

The

air

flat

spot near the brazier, twenty feet from

was warm and moist. Mosquitoes whined near candle

flames, the candles stuck in the sand.

over the

me

air.

in the humidity. Suffocating

smoke married with

the moisture in

Heavy.

I felt fine. I

196

The smoke from Ramon's pipe hung

had spent the day

fasting, sitting

Dance of the Four Winds

by the bend

in the river,

writing, reviewing, reliving the recent past.

my

I

had even stripped and cleansed

chakras in the water that flowed through the lagoon and around the

my body

bend, rubbed

Ramon

with leaves that

said

would keep the mos-

quitoes away.

had taken stock of my thoughts and

I

my

chosen an object:

was a

events of the first?— this journal; the security I

felt,

my courage sliver

the

confidence that

Each of these

watched them

float

I

my

expectations,

a braid I fashioned

would come

I

moment of near-death and

a hand.

I

had

return to

life,

back, that

was

I

my

in

and the jaguar

in facing the darkness

of wood;

was

for an experience of transcendence,

my

of paper torn from a page

triangle

of the night before, was a sharp

of palm;

For each of them

feelings.

curiosity— Would this night's ritual replay the

clinical

my

from three

desire strips

would go beyond

a leaf with five points, like

placed in the stream, like offerings into a

fire.

I

away. The open-palmed leaf touched the edge of the

bank and turned, rotated a

full

360 degrees, before disappearing around the

bend.

Now, on nagged rience.

at

the sand,

my

my

potency, although

Looking up

at the stars, I

How

long time ago. This?

What?

Wait.

I

am

would

me

and cleansed

all

bitter aftertaste

it

it.

fell,

The

should.

is

me the cup ofyqge\ my strength?

he handed felt

opening

its

light

and

met

jaws to me. That was a

be different?

with tobacco and that I feel

preparedness

from the expe-

remembered the moment when the

this

waiting for

lights the clearing, as

ayahuasca and

as

smoke over me. Had he

of Ramon's hut and

at the ceiling

my

desire to serve this ritual

Ramon had nodded satisfaction

again as he blew the

full,

felt

I

me. Must separate

The moon,

stars are in their place.

Ramon we

have smoked and

I

have taken the

the discomfort of an associative

of the yage and the

so

has danced a circle in the sand

memory of a

nausea that

This time. Stop comparing. Expecting. Investing the

moment

memory: the I

do not

feel.

with anything

but your presence.

Look everything

at all

you! You're sitting up! Looking at right?

What's happening to me?

Lie down. Lie back down. But

Ramon's

Is

Ramon

as if to say, Is

anything happening to me?

eyes ... he

is

a sorcerer.

Look

at

those eyes! He's not just a shaman, a master of the West, a gardener in this

He is a trickster. He could do anything Do you know what I am thinking?

Eden.

with me.

West

>

faculty. I

a

symposium on

holistic health

had spoken on shamanism.

Dance of the Four Winds

at

He knew

'The damnedest thing !" he Sun.

been on the

said. "I've

coast,

Temple of the

met Eduardo Calderon."

I

The name meant nothing

"A

to me.

"An amazing man.

shaman/healer in Trujillo," he continued.

would have spent more time with him, but

"Don Ramon

I

I

wanted to get to the jungle

Silva?" I asked.

He

His blonde eyebrows arched. "Yes!"

frowned.

"How

did you

know?" shrugged. Realized that

I

I

did not particularly care.

looked hard

I

sensed something

He

at

Then

him.

soft.

The

said.

blue was bluer, brighter, excited.

could have been a wolf:

else. It

that

.

Eduardo's expecting you," he

"I think

I

.

.

would not be seeing Ramon now. And

I

fidelity, intelligence

.

.

.

continued:

"He

didn't use your

such a man.

name,

just described

said no, but seeing

I

you to me, asked

you here ...

it

if I

knew

must be you. Don't you

think?"

My

stood.

I

member what

I felt. I

"Say hello to "I

heart might have been beating a

thanked him and

Ramon

for

me,

will

thought you were going to

"So did

He

I," I said. "It's

looked confused.

"I don't

know

"Kilometer sixty-four,"

hands.

you?" ."

.

not important."

We

exactiy

.

we shook

don't re-

little faster. I

had

that in

common.

where ..." I said.

'Trans- Amazon highway, south. There's

a path to the left." I squeezed his hand. "Stay

on

and walked out

it," I said,

into the sunshine. I

leaned against the wall for a few minutes,

breathed from

my

and bought a

seat

stomach. Then

on

I

waved off a

went to the Aero Peru

taxi driver,

ticket

and

window

the next plane to Trujillo.

How appropriate that Antonio had said goodbye, that I was prevented from seeing

Ramon

by the presence of that young American, that

to the northern shore of Peru,

I

should travel

where Eduardo Calderon waited

North

for me.

225

Yes, the ability to see fate in history sight

is

is

a trick

of hindsight, and hind-

another form of perception, and perception

just

is

the leitmotiv of my

story. Serendipity, besides

being one of the sweetest-sounding words in the

English language,

of well-being, an endorsement of the path of true

is

a sign

choice.

Yet even though

the gentle prodding of the old ungloved

I felt

hand

of Nature, even though that aptitude called precognition played a part in

He

our rendezvous, Eduardo Calderon was surprised to see me. heartily as

I

stepped off the bus in Trujillo that

bag and grinning back

at his laughter,

I

laughed so

stood there, gripping

mv

smiling at the vague dizziness of deja

vu.

"Compadre," he

There

no word

and took

is

has lost

its

my

hand.

in English equivalent to compadre in this context.

a language that has

English

He

is

said,

not yet found expression for intimacy. Friend

meaning among so many

definitions.

me and we

stepped back from

looked

at

each other. If there

archetypal shaman, a cross-cultural hybrid of a native healer,

Eduardo embodies the image. eyes, a long, full,

A Buddha's

and

belly

drooping mustache parted below

is

an

imagine that

I

smile, Asian Confucius flaring nostrils, straight

black hair tied back with a leather thong and falling to the middle of his back.

The laughing shaman.

He

stopped laughing and his eyes described a

head to foot and back. cc

You

He

shook

are surprised to see

his

me?"

I

circle

around me, from

head and chuckled. asked,

still

confounded by

his heart-

iness. cc

Yes!" It sounded like, What did you expect? "I am always surprised when a vision steps into my life. It is a happy thing. And I am surprised that you come with such darkness around you. We must attend to this."

January 5 Last night

A

circle

the

ette.

it

submitted myself to don Eduardo's healing.

of yellow cornmeal on the sand,

circle.

laid

I

A

of hay inside

Eduardo

out with the concentrated ease of a painter preparing

He

set

« > >

his pal-

out his mesa on a reddish brown woven cloth from the

ruins of an Inca huaca, a

226

a small pile

sacred circle, the place of ritual and magic.

power

site.

Dance of the Four Winds

Two

conch

shells

on

either

side

of three

ganadero,

fields:

medio— dark,

justiciero,

light, neutral

(balance between light and dark). Stone figures, a deer's hoof, an

Inca sling, fetishes, a whistle in the form of a pelican, crystals, ceramics.

Two

Power

flat seashells.

mesa, short swords, carved

stuck in the sand before the

staffs

hardwood and bone

nine alto-

staffs,

gether.

The sky was

A

clear.

half-moon over the

There was no breeze to disturb the neat

was

the sand before the mesa, but there I

stood erect and self-conscious in the

my

stripped to the waist. In the

sword of

fire,

held

He

legged behind the mesa.

brown hollow gourd,

took up

my

its

its lip

called

his

He

upon

sang to the

mustache, and

tilted

and

spir-

the spirits of the

forests.

and Eduardo approached the

to right,

and sweet

body, front and back,

through above

with a soiled

like chee, chee, chee,

a shell of alcohol, tobacco

He drew the shell up my my energy centers, then

in the other. it

left

one hand,

sat cross-

and he shook

its axis,

present.

mountains, and the

sword from

shifted the

circle, rattle in

ing

and water,

air, fire,

lakes, the lagoons, the

on

sounded

It

in

Michael's sword,

St.

Eduardo

side.

his rattle, a stick

come and be

spirit to

of the Earth,

held

I

my

Pacific.

burned

that

of cornmeal, shoeless,

circle

hand by

horizon of the

a sea air tang.

the Earth spinning

back and forth from the wrist.

it

he sang for

I

left

lightly

it

flat

little fire

lifted

oils

rais-

to his nose, rested

it

back his head, drinking the

mixture through his nose. Nasal cavity, proximity to hypothalamus, limbic brain— refills the shell and gives

it

along the blade of the sword, sword in

hand, holding the

shell,

mixture on the sand, head, and

my

my

sinuses,

tion, for

I

in,

and

in

I

lifted

it

unsteadily to

back along

mv

me

feeling in

an

I felt

instant.

way up my arms and

its

I

me

to raise

again.

spilled

some of

nose, threw back

my

it

My

ears,

the

my

and

I

mixture fired and choked

my

throat and

felt it

go

had nothing to do with the po-

The trembling of my hands had

filled

me from

can recreate the events, document them

was once.

my

I

cheeks and under

opened the back of

and the

seized

it

my

tells

hand

left

began to tremble and

glottis close involuntarily as the

down and worked

ran

it

felt

to me,

within.

like the

psychojournalist

I

cannot write about the pain.

North

227

The anguish and

my

knees in the

looming

and

fist,

saw

I

circling the perimeter, protecting

me

in

them somehow, sensed

On my

me.

my

called

me from

vulnerability?

their intent, at

knees, at their level

Eduardo

stood,

.

drew myself up slowly

over in the grip of something

my

head,

to

I fell

forehead,

forces gathered

.

.

.

around

what? The negative forces

.

They were nameless, but

one with the malevolence

I

knew of

inside

.

He made

name.

and the sudden spasm shook the

rattle, I

my

my

saw the

stars. I

scream.

itself in a

fury, struck

of light, saw the form of the jaguar, mine,

just outside the circle

waiting to claim

my

and cried out

circle

with a white-knuckled us,

up and expelled

rage that welled

a fist

rattle

around the handle of the

once. Poder. Power. Strength.

against the muscles that held like tetany.

And Eduardo

me doubled

captured

my

at-

tention with his eyes, wide, peering with something like astonishment into

Then he looked

mine.

to the horizon,

surface that stretched

I

followed his gaze to the dark

saw the plane of the ocean, the rippled

from there to

here, flash silver as lightning electrified

from cloud to

the sky. Single veins of lightning the

and

sea,

between the night and the

line

sea,

and a cloud passed over

moon.

He

"jFuego!" Fire!

dropped

turned and

onto the hay

it

smoke, then caught.

I

my

at

feet.

lifted It

an ember from the

smoldered,

remember looking down

ping the sword, and seeing the orange light of the skin,

wet with sweat or sea

I felt

I

the fire

fill

I

the circle with

hand, the hand grip-

fire

playing across

my

a space like a bell jar.

stepped over the burning pyre, crossed

west, and back.

and

air.

the circle,

fill

filled

my

at

fire

washed

my

hands and

it

south to north, east to

from the

feet in the flames

flames, then barefoot, danced

on

fire,

cleansing myself in

fire,

crushing the flames that had singed away the darkness that had

oozed from

my

feet,

my

pores.

I

its

stood there, staring

down

at the

the

sand and

blackened with the ashes of the burnt hay. Eduardo sat

behind the mesa, arms folded. The cloud had passed by, the sky

had begun to

clear again,

half-moon he looked

He

me, before me, around me.

said:

That

228

at

even to the horizon. In the light of the

I

had held much power.

Dance of the Four Winds

was stuck

That

I

how

to love.

in a relationship

woman

with a

That power and magic are neither white nor it

was

That

I

black,

know

good nor

bad,

my

of intent and expression. Unable to express

a question

power,

did not

I

had turned black within me.

it

had hunted and been hunted by an

He saw

from me.

where

it

had torn

my

at

and

eagle, liver,

had fed

it

bloated with en-

ergy turned black. Hepatitis.

He

my

stood and came to me, took the sword from

standing outside of the

passed the blade

circle,

my

That

I

sever

That

I

may put

body, cut-

these things past, present

no

connections with the past that created

my

ills.

my

life

so that

away the connections to

ting

hand, and,

down my

to rest the spirits of the

need not seek similar relationships to

women

finish the

in

work of

longer.

I

the old

ones.

That the eagle which came from a powerful source

was

eagle that

on

my

Then he held ter,

also the spirit

journey into the

blew

a

of the East, embrace

North— into

sword to the

the

hope

my

past, the

lead

me

clear

wa-

me and

the feminine, he said.

sky, filled his

mouth with

mouthful along the blade and to the South, then the

West, the North and East. Then I

in

at

me, to purify

my

cleansed

self.

so.

something moving inside of me.

Something has begun. There

is

Moving me.

lead.

I will

follow

its

For

I

know

that

it is I

moving

myself.

The

story of

my work

with Eduardo has been told in outline

repeated symbolically step by step by It all

later

dream,

claim that

it

had begun

six

when my presence began

had even traveled together

in a

times,

people over the past few years.

began with that healing on the beach near

would in a

many

many

months

Trujillo,

before,

although Eduardo

when he

first

saw

to intrude itself on his meditations.

dream, he

said.

me

We

We had journeyed to Machu

Picchu and stood before the Pachamama stone and he had

North

known

then that

229

together

we would

of

We

years.

travel to the sacred places

of legend, where the forces of

in the landscape

of places sanctified by

would undertake

the journey to the

Nature dwelled

ritual for

thousands

North together,

as

see the dissolution

of

compadres.

Our journey would span

my

marriage to

my

and publication of Healing dren. Years that

years. Years that

would

would

abandonment of Futuremind, the writing

wife, the

first

States, the

marriages of

see us together in

of

six

his fourteen chil-

Europe and the United

States,

experimenting with the translation and transplantation of shamanic concepts

new "psychology of The Medicine Wheel

into a

the sacred."

braced by Eduardo as the traditional

Four Winds, would be our guide. The sacred

the journey of the

power

me so long ago by Antonio, emmap and commonsensical approach to

described to

that the legends spoke of

would be our

rest stops,

places

of

our places of

communion.

We

would

travel to the

Giant Candelabra of Paracas, a six-hundred-

foot-long, three-pronged tree of insula that rises

life

carved into the side of a barren pen-

from the waters of Paracas Bay, three hundred kilometers

south of Lima. There, for centuries, shamans and seekers of knowledge had

come

to meditate for a vision, a transforming vision, to give

meaning and

purpose to their existence. There the eagle that had stalked me, preyed upon

me

for years,

would

fold

me

in

giant condor that had been the

its

wings. Eduardo would see a condor, the

power animal of his

teacher,

don Florentino

Garcia, the keeper of the sacred lagoons of Las Huaringas.

From where

it

we would travel to the altiplano at Nazca, the high desert rained, where unknown artists had broken through the red-

Paracas

never

sand and thus

dish upper crust of the plateau to expose the pure white

silica

carved gigantic figures of fish, reptiles, birds, mammals,

human

figures,

and

geometric shapes over an area of 350 square kilometers. There on this heavenly mesa, the "place of the

Eduardo would watch the

power animals," we would

spirits

take San Pedro, and

of my past combust, burst into flame

as I

disappeared from sight, walking along the edge of a giant spiral in the sand.

The work of the South. There we would consign our as compadres, as warriors

And we would go

230

to discover

each other

of the heart.

to

Machu

Picchu.

City of Light. Eduardo would enter

would begin

spirits to

its

its

I

would

return to the ancient Inca

gates for the

meaning.

Dance of the Four Winds

first

time. Together

we

18

The traveler follows the Dragon Path in the North to discover the wisdom of the ancients and to create union with the Divine. —Antonio Morales Baca

April 29, 1979

The Death ness of a

Have

Stone. Again.

must commit

I

memory.

told

Eduardo to go

Condor, outside of the

ing visited

in dreams,

it

in

all its

We

both

feel

him

is

I

performed

overwhelmed being

Machu Picchu

it

altitude.

There

like a brother.

An

"Do you

my

here.

fire

Hav-

stands below and before

is

He

something ominous

and twice Eduardo has looked

conspiratorial, childlike grin.

love

He

where

green-gray lichen- and-granite beauty.

of breathless. Not the air.

Temple of the

to the cave beneath the

ruins, the place

ceremony so many years ago.

him now

to paper here the sweet-

feel the

at

me

is

sort

in the

with a

power, compadre?"

I

older brother, sometimes. That's a

queer thing, considering that he

is

the Indian, certainly, a simple

shaman/healer working matter of factiy in the context of his com-

munity, yet with

me

he has found the opportunity and means to

stretch himself, to live the

drama of the legends

that he learned

from.

He

has gone to prepare for his

Death Stone.

Now,

sitting

I

work of

the

West

here, at the

need a few moments myself.

on

the grass, the Death Stone before me, a perfect

squat canoe of granite floating in a sea of grass and yellow wildflowers.

Antonio.

A

panoramic memory of standing here so many years ago,

North

231

my

carrying

hubris,

my

Western preconceptions, and

in a backpack. Seeing the ruins

up and over the edge of the Antonio chanting over of the

He

me

my

chakras, his plaintive whistie, the rustling

would return to

that I

the city and begin to understand

Where

you now?

are

So here

am.

I

on

will lie

the

Which way

I

my

closed

in the grass air

soothe

ite is

in state

cold

have shed

my

Death Stone

on

would

I

And

don't feel your presence. past

again.

enter

anew

in Nazca.

miss you.

I

The South.

I

The West.

on

my

pen and

slid it into

and wildflowers, breathed from sunburned

An hour

Lying

I

I

That

this place.

its secrets.

North?

is

journal

my

rising

Lying on the Death Stone,

precipice.

was here that we "put death on the agenda."

grass. It

told

skepticism

now, the mists of the Urubamba Valley

time, dusk, like

first

my

of the Inca City of Light for the

my

my

shoulder bag, sat there

stomach,

let

the cool night

face.

passed.

on

my

the Death Stone.

Eduardo

is

chanting over me.

bare shoulder blades and the small of my back.

he pays our respects to the Four Winds, asks that

my

spirit

The

gran-

I listen as

be taken to the

West, the regions of silence and death, blown there by the winds of the South, that

born in

may

return from the East, where the

spirit as a child

He gaged

it

rises,

that I

may

be

of the Sun.

has had his turn here.

I let instinct

stepped back, and waited.

his chakras,

Sun

form

And

my I

incantation, disen-

thought

I

saw some-

thing vaguely luminous, something that was Eduardo, but thinner, younger perhaps, disengage from his great belly rising and falling with each breath. I

told

him afterward

softness,

with him.

I

that he

was carrying too much weight, too much

have often sensed that his work of the South

is

in-

complete, that he has reconciled himself with his past, his ancestry, but he is

burdened by

He

told

it still.

me

that he felt himself going into the stone, felt a powerful

fear in his belly, the claustrophobia

232

of premature

Dance of the Four Winds

burial.

Then he saw below

him

a light, far off,

whiteness,

my

heart.

he .

larger,

coming

nearer,

and

as

he

into

fell

He is impressed with my skill. my chakras, touching my forehead, mv

its

brought him back.

I

Now

growing

.

disengaging

is

neck,

.

And I wonder, What

is

the difference between birth and death? Death,

the light at the end of the tunnel, the birth canal, light at the end, the light

we

of the world into which

beyond the first fear,

are born. Perhaps,

of pain and

associative fears

loss, is a vestigial

unknown

the fear of birth, the

my

my

eyes, smiling, turn

memory of

the

end of the tunnel.

at the

Breathing, regular heart rate, meditative.

open

think, the fear of death,

I

Wind

head to look

rustling the grass.

at the figure at

my

I

side,

standing over me, arms extended, palms down, a gold bracelet from which

an arm band of hammered gold. Breath catches, held high

a feather hangs, in

my

The

chest.

face: Incan, chiseled

brown

framed by two

face

feathers,

earring ornaments piercing the dead ears of the jaguar headdress that covers his

head and shoulders with black-furred

touch him,

my hand

catskin.

passes through his arm,

open, and he turns away

as I sit up,

hang

and

my legs

reach out impulsively to

I

his eyes,

too black to

see,

over the side of the Death

Stone, see Eduardo sitting cross-legged in the grass at the base of the stone, the stern end of this granite canoe.

"Eduardo!"

He

blinks

up

at

me, and

I

jerk

mv

head

walking— moving, rather— down the

priest,

in the direction

hill

of the jaguar

toward the Gateway of the

Sun, the entrance to the ruins. It

was

lost sight

stood

after

midnight when we entered the ruins of Machu Picchu.

of the apparition

at the

moved down the hill, and by Sun, we may have been the only

as

Gateway of the

it

the time

We we

visible pres-

ences in the place.

We had specifically planned to and

its

light cast

spend the night of the

shadows on the courtyards and glinted

full

moon

silver-gray

there,

on

the

edges of the fitted granite block walls. I

led the

revealing

way

to the

rooms open

Temple of the Condor,

to the

past

tumbled-down

weed-grown stone pathway,

where three massive walls and a stone

dais are

all

that

into an

is left

open

walls area,

of the Great

Temple. 'There!" Eduardo nodded toward the central wall. "The place of the spirit flight."

We

continued on, between the walls of the

ball court,

North

descended

a

233

among

short flight of steps to the right, and stood

of the Condor, direcdy above the cave where

I

Temple

the ruins of the

had once performed

my work

of the South.

There feet.

The

a

is

flat,

smooth, vaguely triangular stone in the ground

stone suggests a condor, a fanciful condor,

its

head turned back on

itself,

looking within, neck folded back from the collar

know

that the ridges along

In one of the most spontaneous

my

middle

And

my

brought

'What

my

my

are

fingers

moments of my

pocket and cut a small

Ramon, and

grains of sand. It

a

of each of

down, and the blood

cornpadre?"

Once

it

a

condor had appeared to

had fed on the mask

had taunted

me

knew

I

for so

many years,

I

realized

of the West

is

something

me

else in that

my

a silver slip sur-

dripping face from the

had worn. Now,

that I

that that

of Antonio, worrying me, challenging

me on

had surprised me, had

It

had pecked the pieces of

stained the gray granite beak,

as the

blood

condor was the same

as the

the spirit of the East, of vision,

to complete

moment.

I

my

journey.

realized that the

work

not only about giving yourself to death so that you can be but

life,

it is

also

something that you believe I

withdrew

I

and onto the granite beak of the condor.

of sand by the lagoon behind Ramon's hut.

claimed by

life,

in the tips

slit

hands together in the position of an inverted

you doing,

don't know.

I still

And

I

fingers. I

dripped from

eagle that

and

collar.

prayer, palms together, fingertips touching, pointing

prised

at its throat,

beak allowed blood to flow from the surface

its

of the stone and into the space within the

Swiss army knife from

our

at

about your willingness to give your

life

for

in.

my

staunched the bleeding with

bandanna, and

we climbed

the steps

and walked back into the courtyard where the Great Temple had stood.

'We

can

fly here," says

enormous stone in

Eduardo, and climbs up onto the

step protruding

from the base of the

dais,

He

an sits

an attitude of meditation, an Indian Buddha, head resting back against

the water-stained granite blocks of the wall.

him. The bleeding has stopped and

myself into a sympathetic

on centering me.

He

state,

the courtyard, facing

watch Eduardo

abandon the

pass and

Eduardo

has seen a figure, older than

glowing golden breastplate over

234

I

I sit in

effort,

closely, try to will

and concentrate instead

myself.

Ten minutes a

central wall.

Dance of the Four Winds

me

and back. Legs straighten and she stands before me, Indian maiden, daughter

of the mountain, walks away, toward the stone, stops

her crooked yellow medicine

woman

smile to me, a

She turns

there.

look,

last

and steps into

the stone.

.

.

But the North was none of these things that

.

Last night

I fell

into the Earth, returned to

witnessed something that

And

Time

is

Time

lapsed.

The

a prodigal son. I

it,

will try to understand, then leave alone.

I

not inflected by gravity in the center of the Earth.

I

that lay in the

meadow, dreaming.

I that fell

into the Earth

saw

was the

there

it

from the

inside out, sensed

rience in a rock-and-crystal-lined amniotic sac, feeling

knew what

And

it

was to be pregnant, to hold

there were faces there.

inhabited,

on

the edges of

I

my

life

saw them on the

Faces ancient as the mountains and of the same

moment, simultaneous,

the while that

I

walls of the space that

I

stuff, earth, rock,

looked, at every

volcanic

moment, within

the

infinite exposures.

of elders? The

this the council

Another mind began to assign

crystal cave

historical,

of legend?

religious significance to

them, the Christ, the Buddha, undreamed-of faces that but could not identify.

all

forming within me.

awareness, in the corners of perception.

wrinkles, liquid eyes, everywhere

Was

its

pregnancy. Floating in space within the Earth, a prebirth expe-

fertility, its

I

thought.

I

.

.

.

Antonio?

Don

I

knew, recognized,

Jicaram?

"Antonio?"

The word rocks

shift,

is

carried

ing, replacing the old

in the past.

I

a wave, a concentric wave, before

with the new, another

The mind of graven

understand. Yes,

Let go.

on

new

the ice melts, water trickling along

I

images.

I

face,

me, and the

crevices, features

and no! This mind

need not

will

is

to identify

you

to

know

stuck

myself to see and

can see that other mind thinking now, as the shapes

do not need

form-

you. All of you.

I

shift.

need not

think here.

There are memories here in these I

faces, faces

of the ancient ancestors.

cannot place them, need not place them, but will

Meanwhile, there were

still

stars above.

I

remember?

The moon was

North

steady in

its

239

moving

orbit,

Machu

across the

Eduardo was approaching,

And of the

I

past.

wonder

We

if I

Picchu sky, the shadows were shirting,

cautiously.

.

.

.

cannot claim the lineage of these

are family, of course, because

men and women

we come from

the same place,

share a heritage.

The Sun impregnates

the Earth, and

life is

mating of Sun and Earth. The creative principle, It is

I

the Nature of things.

awoke

ing

dew

night.

morning, cold and

this

soaking

meadow.

my

shirt,

stiff at sunrise.

a

with morn-

weed

stalks

of the

huddled against the cold of the

poncho over me

far off, asleep in a

paces from the

Damp

clinging to the narrow

a fetal position,

I slept in

Eduardo draped

Eduardo not fifty

born of that union, the single-cell consciousness.

last night. I

found

corner of a thatched- roof stone hut

Pachamama Stone (which

looks particularly

cold and formidable in the light of day).

Thought awhile before waking him up.

The sun was not

yet over the mountains to the east,

think before waking him, before the Inti

first

rays

and there was time to

of the morning touched the

Huatana. I

decided that

I

had

and we had been hiking

fallen asleep

all

and dreamed. Eleven thousand

day yesterday and

I

feet

had been overcome by the

my own physical exhaustion. I decided that I had meadow and dreamed the maiden, the descent into the

grandeur of this place and fallen asleep in the

Earth, the walls of the space in the center of the Earth,

consciousness,

A

my many

minds, a kaleidoscope of ecstatic

there in the

meadow,

covered

in the playing fields

.

.

.

me with a poncho and left

of

sleep.

"You've been fucked by God, cornpadre." Eduardo's waking.

240

fractionated

dream.

And Eduardo had left me to dream,

me

my

states.

Dance of the Four Winds

first

words to

me on

and witnessed

my

clinician to the last, I said nothing, just listened.

His

Eduardo had stood on the edge of the

clearing

lovemaking with the maiden. I

tested him.

The

woman was correct to the final detail. He laughed of me copulating with the crone in the meadow

description of the Indian

own

at his

description

before the stone.

He

had appeared to

fall

into a trance,

afraid to approach, afraid to disturb

my

state.

said that

I

of the clearing, and the night was

many with golden

breastplates,

alive

hooded

condors with ruffled necks, spiraling

He

figures

lights.

moons shaped

like cats:

the edge

of

men and women,

at the entrance, a

the marriage of the

white

In a reverie he had traveled to

Temple of the Moon, energy forms etched

pillars, portals, existing as

with geometric figures, and,

on

He was

with energies. Luminous figures,

the top of Huayna Picchu, where, he said, there was a

long ago destroyed, walls,

un enswno.

sat nearby,

Sun framed by two

Sun and

the

Moon,

half-

masculine

and feminine.

He had returned to the meadow, covered me with a poncho.

We

left

the

Pachamama and

seen that

I

priests

on

As the Sun the stone, so did in so doing, spirits

had

where the Sun was

tied

the occasion of the winter solstice.

crested the mountains to the east

we touch our

acknowledged the

of those

fallen asleep,

crossed the courtyard, climbed the steps

to the Inti Huatana, the "hitching post of the Sun,"

by Inca

had

who

gifts

of this

lived here, died here,

stones represented to those

and

its first

rays

touched

foreheads to the cool granite surface. And,

who came

place,

made our

obeisance to the

and the legacy of insight that these

with purity of purpose and impec-

cable intent.

North

241

East

20

No

theory

is

good

except on condition that one uses it to

go

beyond.

—Andre Gide

I

my

need not elaborate much on

foreseen, places

we

years of

work with Eduardo. As he had

traveled together, laughed together, discovered together the

of power and

how

they lent themselves to the stages of the Medicine

Wheel.

Although chological,

Mexico,

curiosity about

had drawn

Brazil,

me

and Peru,

non- Western healing, both physical and psy-

to research and

my

document healing

experience had taught

me

traditions in

something of the

fundamental concept of shamanism: that changes in health cannot occur

without changes in

lifestyle.

that the journey of the

my

With time

interest in personal transformation. It

interest in healing

had become increasingly

Most of

the

me

Four Winds, the path of the Medicine Wheel, was

a journey into Eros, the feminine, the intuitive

dreams.

became an clear to

human

species

logos, the patriarchal, rational

was

mind of

mind, the place of myth and

living

under the dictatorship of

the last half of the second millen-

nium.

The concept of

a psychology

me on

of the sacred began to take shape, and, five countries to join

Eduardo and

a journey of initiation, an introduction to the steps of

power along

in 1983, 1 invited twelve individuals

the Medicine Wheel.

We

would

from

travel, as

Eduardo and

I

had, to Paracas

Bay, to Nazca, to the Temple of the Sun and the Temple of the Trujillo,

Moon

and to Machu Picchu. The extraordinary experiences shared by

cross-cultural "tribe"

would form the

basis

of Healing

States

near this

and a six-hour

documentary film of the same name. There

is

no

specific

formula for transformation within the shamanic

East

245

There

tradition.

the concept of the Medicine Wheel, the Journey of the

is

Four Winds; but the lessons learned and

skills

acquired along the

not dependent upon specific places of power. Shamanism it

not a regimented system of devotion. Ultimately

is

personal discipline, a state of mind.

He

occupied the unconscious mind. is

simply mind

at its purest.

shook

an attitude, a

is

if

the healing spirit

head and replied that

his

are

not a religion;

is

it

once asked Antonio

I

way

That exchange has always held for

spirit

me some-

thing of the essence of his teaching.

Eduardo and

Nevertheless, travel itinerary,

tightly knit

program, a

that served the steps of the Medicine Wheel, and the high

plateaus, sacred peaks,

classroom, where

Perhaps

had discovered a

I

and wild jungles of Peru would be

would experiment,

I

in creating a

forum

and

teach,

ing groups on such expeditions,

for learning I

began

my laboratory, my

learn.

through experience, by

my own work

cording to legend, the eagle path in the East

is

lead-

of the East. Ac-

the return to one's tribe. In

the East the individual accepts the gift of vision and the task of exercising that vision to create a better

to

dream the

world

possible future. Indeed,

I

had no

interest in people seeking a

self-serving transcendental experience. Luckily, those

me

and personally,

politically, ecologically,

who

have traveled with

over the years have, by and large, used their experiences as starting

points for their journeys, not as the end products.

But although right.

As

I

imagined that

usual, there

Don

had found the way just

East,

was only half

I

over the horizon.

Florentino Garcia had been Eduardo's teacher, his mentor.

never met the old man, although

Don

his death.

I

were challenges yet ahead,

I

would have reason

I

to feel the effect of

Florentino was the keeper of the sacred lagoons of Las

Huaringas, the place where legend held that shamans had come for centuries to receive their initiation as masters. it fell

to

Eduardo to take

stewardship over tion,

its

When

the old

man

died one February,

his place, to journey to the lagoons

and claim

his

waters and initiations. According to untraceable tradi-

he had one year from the date of don Florentino's death to assume his

responsibility.

But Eduardo, spell

of

his

own

sychophancy of the shamanic those

friend

New Age

circuit, serving the

who

themselves.

246

my

and compudre, had begun to

power, become seduced by

his

Europe and United

popular folklore.

It is

own States.

fall

under the

persona and the

He

traveled the

the trap that waits for

identify themselves with their teachings, carve graven images

We

continued to work together, but

Dance of the Four Winds

I

of

soon became sensitized

to his

He

growing weakness.

responsibility

avoided his journey to the lagoons, and the

began to follow him and sap

As the February approached and, with anniversary of don Florentine's death, traveling

I

his strength.

the date that

it,

companions to join Eduardo on

the

his pilgrimage, to participate in

ceremony of the redemption of Las Huaringas.

his

would mark

group of friends and

invited a select

expedition, requiring us to pack into the

would be

It

a difficult

on horseback and on

hills

foot,

with burros to carry our gear.

When we

gathered in Cuzco, Eduardo announced that

be going. There had been

he

rains,

we would not

and the roads and paths had been

said,

destroyed. Another time, he said.

We

made

the best of

it.

We

traveled instead to

and the lagoons of Marcahuasi, situated atop a mesa

We

eerily

ney, but

knew

it

It

mimicked

was

that

faces.

had

set

we performed

ceremonial walking at

Before staff, six feet

staff,

He

him.

his staff before

in

and

shook

in

Las

the jour-

lost

an opportunity.

Machu

Picchu. All those gathered had been

I

we

brought up the

his

entered the ruins at the Gate-

to one side, learning against his carved rear. I

paused before entering

head and turned to enter the

city,

planting

him.

my

eyes,

and the disbelieving

stares

of our group, Eduardo's

long hardwood carved in the form of a serpent, leaped from

hands and snapped,

shaken by the incident.

to the

fell

I

ground

in

two

He

pieces.

with an impatient gesture, and

Ten minutes

later, at

we

and

fell

face first

Eduardo was

I

am

sure that he

as

off

what

bitten

He

his eyes crossed hid-

we not managed

would have

seized by

an epileptic seizure.

onto the stones,

eously in his badly torn face, and, had

mouth,

He waved me

crossed the courtyard together.

the Inti Huatana,

and a medical doctor with the group recognized

my name

was profoundly

suggested to him that this might be an omen, a

sign that he, or perhaps we, should not enter the ruins.

into his

ceremony

who had made

That he had

there before, and our spirits were high as

screamed

a

ele-

events that followed in close succession are worth noting.

way of the Sun while Eduardo stood

I

feet.

out to do, and, watching Eduardo there,

failed his challenge.

The group assembled

and smiled

There

which Eduardo had avoided

a powerful experience to those

was not what we had

that he

Two

human

resembling

that

initiation

Huaringas.

his

Castas

las

surrounded by smooth granite monoliths carved by time and the

ments and

I

San Pedro

twelve thousand

descended to the lagoons through ancient ruins to a natural amphithe-

ater

of

at

to force a bandanna

through

East

his tongue.

247

Elliot, the physician, hill

to the hotel.

though

I feel

He

that he

and

I

Eduardo from the

carried

ruins,

down

the

recovered physically from his anomalous seizure, is still

recovering emotionally, psychologically,

al-

spiri-

tually.

Las Huaringas was destroyed after

don

Florentine's death.

later that

The wooden

month, one year to the day

thatched-roof huts that ringed the

lagoons were burned; the standing walls of the temples there were knocked

down, and the waters were polluted with the charred There were shamans share his

in the area

knowledge with

Europe and the United of

this place

of legend.

States,

fires.

who, angered by Eduardo's resolution

to

work

in

outsiders, disapproving perhaps

We

from the

refuse

of

his

may have been responsible for the ravaging know and it is of little consequence.

will never

Perhaps someday Eduardo will return to the lagoons and begin to repair the

damage.

It

was

will be

I

honored to help him.

also at this time that

for years

began

crystallized. It

an idea that had been struggling to form

finally to take shape. I

cannot identify the

did not spring fully formed and armored

head of Zeus, but

I

was

able,

one night

in

like

itself

moment when

it

Athena from the

Cuzco, to write about

it

in

my

current journal.

June 21, 1983

Tambo Machay Think of Medicine Wheel

as a neurological

map

for overriding the

four operative programs of the limbic brain— fear, feeding, fighting,

and

sex.

Can look

at the

Medicine Wheel

as a simple progression starting in

the South: shedding of the past, death, birth, flight.

South, West, North, and East. Fine.

Can we

relate the four directions to the four fs?

The mythological themes of instinct, the

"making sure our

support, and filling our

248

the South seem to address the feeding

bellies.

plate

is full,"

our hunger for

Our attachment

Dance of the Four Winds

love,

to the things of the

we shed our

world. In the South

personal past, shed the self that

is

an outcast from the Garden and condemned to travel naked, hungry,

and unloved by Nature.

And we

free the spirits

peace and that they

Am I

I

of our personal

may no

longer feed

am

grasping for straws, or

think

am

I

uruboros,

close, because the

life

engaged

I

on our

close to

South

in the process

may

past, that they

is

find

present.

something here?

the Serpent Path, the

of eating,

life

eating

life.

Feeding.

There

is

something here,

The West. This yond

By

fear.

is

easy.

it is

One

metaphorical, mythological.

with the transcendent, immortal

Self,

we

we

face the

unknown,

we

can no longer

which we

that

identify

from the

free ourselves

grip of fear and claim our lives to the fullest, for

We

.

.

goes to meet one's death and step be-

facing death and learning the spirit flight,

be claimed by death.

.

fear the

most. Fear.

Where we claim the lineage of men and women of knowledge. The place of the androgynous

The North. The Feminine.

Eros.

mind, the creative principle that we personify

Sun (masculine) and Earth

common The

East.

(feminine),

as

God, the union of

from which

ail life

claims a

ground. Sex. Obviously.

The way of

the visionary,

whose

task

is

to overcome

The

pride and self-aggrandizement, to envision the possible human. place of nonviolence in a

How

world divided by

struggle. Fighting.

curious that this ancient formula could relate to the prime

functions of a primitive brain, functions that have kept

human

be-

havior and consciousness in check for millennia.

Thoughts tumbling over one another: The neocortex developed time

when

primitive

sorbed limbic brain,

man was i.e.,

living

under the influence of an ab-

an animistic environment in which

things in heaven and Earth were visible, living things. brain

was supersaturated with the

the neocortex self-reflexive

made

its

at a

The

all

limbic

stimuli of the environment

appearance, allowing the

human

to

become

and distance himself from the environment and

East

when

its in-

249

and assigning definition to experience—

fluences by invoking logic

Garden— here man

the exodus from the

knowing good and bad. And, even

after the

.

.

has

become

as

one of us

in

.

appearance of the thinking brain, the limbic

brain continued to drive the neural machinery and steer the course

of

human

history.

Feeding— our

oral

and anal fixations— our

to

first act as infants,

seek the breast, to continue to associate food with security and satisfaction.

Fear— of

conflict, pain,

death certainly. The unknown.

to any length to avoid the things Sex.

Need

hardly

make

we

the point.

We

will

go

fear.

We

are a race driven to distrac-

tion by lust, capable of consumption by passion.

Fighting, the violent impulses that

we

harbor, that can be directed

outward toward others, or inward toward ourselves. Suicide internalized

is

an

murder impulse.

Sociological manifestations:

Grain

rotting in silos while millions

is

go hungry

at

home and

abroad. Billions

of dollars are made annually by advertisers targeting our

fears.

Sex and violence share equal graphically unprecedented.

billing.

New

Violence in the media

is

forms of pathological violence are

breeding in our cities: the madman with the automatic weapon who massacres schoolchildren, the woman who kills middle-aged men and buries them in her backyard, the pack of teenagers who beat and rape, laughing, sliding

on

the razor edge between pain

and pleasure. Are we approaching saturation? Again? Is

the ability to override the prime directives of the primitive brain,

to step into a

new and grander

leap in the evolution

A A few

consciousness the next

quantum

this species?

consummation devoutly to be wished.

months

later I

looking the ruins of

250

of

stood beside the Death Stone, on the

Machu

Picchu.

little hill

over-

The group had worked diligendy

Dance of the Four Winds

in

Now we

Bay and Nazca.

Paracas

were preparing to engage

symbolic death before entering the gates of the

The Sun,

Andean

radiant in the thin

air,

in the ritual

of

city.

had broken through the cloud

cover of the morning. "In Nazca,"

I said,

"we discovered

that the past that binds us, restricts

and guides our behavior, must be captured before lost,

it is

I

down

worn

until

my

shielded

my

to

right.

headed for the

Inti

"What we

it is

eyes

A

sloughed

from the

set free,

it is

found before

off."

glare of the

Sun and happened

group of children had entered the

ruins.

to glance

They were

Huatana.

doing

are

is

attempting to enter into a realm of metaphor

and myth. With the use of ceremony and

we

ritual,

are engaging with,

playing with, the symbols and poetry of a primitive consciousness, bypassing

no hard

the question-and-answer discourse of our rational minds. There are

and

fast rules.

Our

only obligation

is

to be fully present in the context of

we

these rituals, to free ourselves to whatever

That, to

my

right

believe,

I

was the

gist

of what

I

was saying when

and noticed the figure leading the children.

from the Death Stone to the Sun Stone, too there

experience. ..."

far to identify

was something about the way he moved.

brimmed straw

hat

moved with

a familiar stride

A

glanced again

I

It is

some

distance

an individual, but

poncho and

a wide-

away from the Sun Stone

and disappeared around a corner. I

the

interrupted myself, excused myself from the group, and trotted

hill,

city.

The

schoolchildren were not wearing uniforms; thev were Indian

dren, probably from litely

down

through the Gateway of the Sun, and across the courtyards of the

some

rural

community or

village nearby.

around the Sun Stone, chattering, playing with

They

chil-

sat

flutes, whistles,

po-

and

moun-

other such artifacts available at the train station at the base of the tain. I

hitched up

my

pants, squatted beside one, a

where her teacher was. She smiled up

Temple of the There is

is

Spirit Flight. a

room,

a

He

at

me and

had gone, she

little

girl,

and asked

pointed back toward the

said, to fetch Julio.

chamber behind the Temple of the

Spirit Flight. It

an echo room where words whispered reverberate, can be heard even on

the other side of the wall, at the dais of the temple.

him.

He was

tying a strip of cloth to Julio's leg.

It

The

was there

little

that

I

found

boy had wandered

away, tripped, and skinned his knee.

"Antonio?"

East

251

He looked up from of

his face creased in a

'There !"

group now. return."

The

He

grin.

His eyes

be with you in a moment.

boy smiled and wiped

his

ran off to join his playmates.

252

»

still

glistened.

held Julio's face in his hand and said,

I will little

beneath the brim of his straw hat, and the wrinkles

wide

Dance of the Four Winds

You

"Run back

to the

be in charge until

I

cheek with a soiled hand and

21

I can't just suddenly tell you what I should be telling you, friend, forgive me; you know that although you don't hear

I wasn't

my

words,

asleep or in tears,

that I'm with you without seeing you

and

for a good long time

until the end.

—Pablo Neruda

Antonio had grown that

my

There was nothing surprising

old.

assumption of his death had frozen the image

here he was, a

handsome old Indian

He removed

granite.

his hat

and

I

I

in this,

it

carried of him.

on

in his mid-seventies, sitting

saw

was only But

a lip

that his hair, once silver-gray,

of

had

turned white. I just

stood there, transfixed by his presence.

He

"Well," he said.

boots, cotton shirt, sunglasses that

you have not turned

He

the hell have

of times, and

a raucous echo.

am

"I

Don

moved

I

an old man," he

me

my eyes. spirit,

I

My

to a spot

said. "I

I

a ball

my

"It

a portion is

time for

me

to

little

woven pouch.

question bounced off the walls

knew would not produce such of yucca and corn

have returned to

realized that

old suits

my

were

He

paste.

people. as

When you

unbecoming on

smiled at this and

of food. Our fingers touched and he looked up into

true that a

shaman can

but the worlds of culture.

"I

Are you hungry?"

poncho and straw hat would be on you."

as a

handed

you been?"

Jicaram molded

returned to your home,

me

into an Indian.

reached under his poncho and produced his

'Where a couple

me up and down, my trousers, hiking pushed up on my forehead. "I am glad to see

looked

leap between the worlds, not only of

You have shown

that.

So have

I.

But

it

was

go home."

thought that you had died."

East

253

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. "I did," he said. "I died to one of my lives. But you should have known that there was no cause for mournwe have many lives. Part of our task is to learn from one to the next when one comes to its natural end."

ing or anger. Like the jaguar, to leap gracefully

He unslung his hota from his shoulder and took a drink and handed it to me. "You have been busy," he said. "I am glad." And I began to tell him of my work, my return to Peru, my meeting Eduardo, my journey North, but I stopped just after I had begun. He knew where I had been. I could see it in his eyes. We grinned at each other. And then he changed the subject on me.

'The thing to understand," he

North

ancient memories of the

said, "is that the

awakening of the

not you, the individual, remembering,

is

because you will only remember the events of your

life. It is,

rather, stepping

through the crack between the worlds and taking your place among the twice born,

done

battle

all

those

who

have conquered death. They are those

of knowledge. They are our ancestors, the trustees of the Earth."

two cinnamon bark in the corner

sticks

from

his

have

Antonio laughed with

How

the Mother.

He

pulled

pouch and handed me one and stuck one

of his mouth.

'The maiden who came to

And I

who

with the archetypes and the forces of Nature to become persons

me from

Pachamama ..."

the

You met

delight. "So!

the crone, the spirit of

did she appear to you?"

him how

she had stepped out from the Pachamama made love to me, had impregnated me with an awareness of life there, in the meadow. "She touches us all in different ways," he said. "When I first met her

explained to

Stone, maiden and crone, had

me

she took

through the labyrinths."

He

inclined his head in the direction

of Huayna Picchu and the Temple of the Moon. "Obviously she used the

means

that

would most capture your

"Did you

He follow."

nodded. 'They are the ones who have come before us and who will He removed the cinnamon stick from his mouth and said: "Become

them and allow them for they are like Julio

who you

to are

and the other

become you, and becoming. little

There was a long pause. trusts us




We

their

You must

memories

will

grow

in you,

stand on their shoulders, just

ones will someday stand on yours."

He stuck the

with a responsibility and

our personal

254

attention."

see the faces?" I asked.

we

bark back in his mouth. "History

abdicate, take refuge in the

drama of

dishonor history and the lineage of our species

Dance of the Four Winds

when

we do not honor our

We

ancestors.

must

step outside of ordinary history

and go beyond."

"And

the Eagle Path?"

'The way of the visionary," he

We

eyes open.

all

my

have a future,

knowledge have the

friend,

men and women of

but only

of a destiny. In the East the shaman assumes

possibility

who we

full responsibility for

'Where we dream with our

replied.

becoming and

are

by en-

influences destiny

visioning the possible."

"There

is

a popular belief that there are

dence and gaining control of one's destiny,"

He

ways of achieving transcen-

I said.

sucked his teeth and shook his head. "Destiny

not something

is

over which you seek to gain control. Control of one's destiny

oxymoron. But with

Lead

it.

it

a

man

or

woman

lifted his

his

brows

looked

in a question,

soon

after birth.

hand

as

The

genes.

forefinger

The seams

as

me for a He tapped

are

still

all

there.

but

we

are

long moment, the top of his

born with, that closes

They mark

this:

'We

can

threads of our destiny are in our hands.

them together and leading it

... an

and smiled broadly. 'The crack between the

though to brush away

"And

is

Learn to dance

at

said.

worlds," he said. 'The gap in the skull that

his

it.

asked.

I

and then nodded. 'With the children," he head with

influence

across the dance floor of time."

'Where do you begin?"

He

of power can

the spot." split

The

He waved

atoms and

task

is

splice

in braiding

ourselves into the future."

begins with the children,"

I said.

He nodded, then stood. "And I must get back to mine." He slung the bota over his shoulder. He placed a hand on my shoulder, he had done so many times in the past. "Don't stop now, my friend.

Stand on our shoulders and look to a distant horizon.

and within you. throat.

'We

will

there are places

He

took

I see

you every month

meet again," he

where

my

I

hand

said.

in

'We

cc

Hasta pronto," he

through you

live

fire."

He cleared

his

have traveled well together, and

cannot go alone." in his. "It

is

good

squeezed his hand. "Hasta pronto,"

I

We

my full-moon

said.

I

have not seen him

I

returned to the group;

And

to

know

these things,

is it

not?"

I said.

he was gone.

since.

we completed our work

at the

Death Stone,

entered the ruins, and spent the night there.

The next morning we made our way down

the mountain and boarded

East

255

the train to Cuzco. There are

little girls,

Indian

girls

of ten or twelve,

trinkets to the tourists, souvenir ceramic beads, necklaces

sell

Peruvian coins, flutes and whisdes, and such, and over the years to

know most of

youngest, called

them. As

my

name.

"The old man told hand, and her,

place

bought

on

Night I

me

was boarding the

turned and smiled to give

you

this,"

train,

down

I

a couple

of simple

vision, forgotten

at her.

she said. She held out her

knowledge, the object that

I

through a forest on the

Dance of the Four Winds

I

thanked

kidded with her, took

unwrapped the gold owl from don

fully conscious,

»

silver earrings,

had come

one of them, the

took the tiny cloth-wrapped bundle from her palm.

the train, and

had run,

256

I

I

I

who

made from old

my

Jicaram's mesa.

had held the altiplano.

first

time

22

Between the

And

idea,

the reality

Between the motion

And

the act

Falls the Shadow. T. S. Eliot

April

5,

Machu After hours. Writing by the light of the by. This

dinately

is

a

fire,

blown away by

Their skepticism

temporary comfort C.

is

ritual,

making an

is

issue

have not sought instantly to frame

two of the men

of logic and preconcep-

healthy, not a thing to

of keeping

Kappa-type, pain in the

me

liberal,

ass that she

are in love with her

aloof, her spirit

though she

the best light to write

fall

back on, to find

in.

feminism, though. East Coast

and

Picchu

unique group. Ten of the eighteen have not been inor-

their experiences in intricate superstructures tion.

1987

is.

of her

stubborn, privileged, Phi Beta is.

An M.D.

to boot.

At

least

and she remains independent

indomitable. She

is

thinks she

in line. I'm getting sick

is

indomitable, or acts as

We'll see.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?" Why. We had boarded purchased the mordida, train. It

"A

Machu Picchu

to Cuzco.

I

had

morning and had doled out

a small fortune in

to assure the group of first-class seats

on an overbooked

tickets that

money

the train from

had been easy to arrange for us to share

a

compartment.

surprise," I said.

East

257

Her

my

eyes, hazel green, searched mine. I raised

eyebrows. "Close

them."

She drew a deep breath, exhaled with something and closed them. with

my thumb.

I

She was smiling. The

fingertips to the floor

"Well?" she

looked

at

fruit

was

just short

pocket and

ripe, juice

of a

split

it

sigh,

open

dripping from

my

of the compartment.

said.

"Open your mouth." Her smile lifted into a side. I

my

pulled a grenada fruit from

grin,

and she leaned her head back and to one

her neck. She shook her head.

"Don't you trust me?"

"No."

"Open

laughed.

it," I

She seemed to make a decision. Her shoulders dropped half an inch, then her

lips parted,

tongue ready to

taste anything. I

wavering slighdy with the rocking of the fruit

between her

lips.

She

bit

down and

train,

reached across, hand

and placed a wedge of the

the juice ran

down

her chin. She

caught the drop with her forefinger, opened her eyes, and smiled

at

me with

them.

I

went to

month

Brazil to write.

later I

She returned to

New

York, then followed.

held a seminar in Germany. She surprised

me

there. I

back to Marin County and she gave up a second-year residency tigious hospital to

move with me. She

cepted by three, and

is

A

moved

at a pres-

applied to three hospitals, was ac-

currendy working

at

Stanford University Medical

Center.

In February of 1988 to

Machu

I led

an expedition on a trek along the Inca

trail

Picchu, and returned to witness the birth of our son in March.

January

7,

1989

Death Valley

Second day, three-day workshop

No

258

in the desert.

phone. Spoke with her night before

»

Dance of the Four Winds

last.

Missing C.

Aching

terribly.

for her.

Ago-

nizing over whether or not Ian will

What

week's absence.

Midday and

We I

remember

sweet pain this

his father after a

is.

the group has scattered, wandered off into the desert.

and they have

are fasting

left

our

circle for a day's vision quest.

have built a makeshift signpost of desert driftwood, a red ban-

danna

tied to a long branch like a flag to

mark our rendezvous

point. I should stay here to maintain a center for them, yet I feel

by-now

that

familiar

something moving me.

something out there on the eastern horizon.

There

is

where

it is,

though there

can see

I

nothing to see but sand dunes, a mile

is

off.

But

must wait

I

here. It

my

is

responsibility to wait, to hold the

center.

Later Hell with

my

I left

This

it.

is

too strong a

and the anxiety

is

turning

the circle and headed off over the dunes. January in the desert and the

sun was baking the sand and the

was much

freezing. It

you walk toward horizon

is

feel

The sand was

down my of sand

I

had thought,

like

those dreams where

the horizon that keeps receding, because a

you, and you

virgin, soft

sought,

face, neck,

my

at the crest

up the

on

during the night had been near

know

that

you

will never reach

it,

al-

yourself drawing nearer.

of the dune that

waist, peeled off

air that

farther than I

a thing

relative to

though you

gled

pull,

stomach.

slope,

halfway up, only to

and shirt

and deep, and by the time

my

legs

chest. I

and

had shed

tied

slip

steps up,

reached the base

my parka and tied it around my my head. Above me was a lip

around

it

of the dune, wind- whipped to a

two

I

were aching, the sweat was dripping

one step

fine edge,

lost, sliding

back to the base, sand sticking to

and

strug-

I

back in the sand,

my arms and chest,

overheated, panting at the effort. I

turned and looked back in the direction from which

I

had come,

squinted against the reflected sunlight, could not see the bandanna.

checked I

my

watch and realized that

I

had walked an hour to get

to

I

where

was. Three miles? Maybe.

East

259

I I

had

looked back

failed to notice before.

the slope, leading up, over

To

way

I

had come,

was another,

in the footsteps

By now

I

the eeriness of

that

I

The

were

indistinct,

dimples in

was unmistakable. Someone was

there, over

my

at

prints

me? One of the group?

the crest of the dune. Waiting for

along the

on

the right, other footprints in the sand,

edge.

its

the soft sand, but the spacing

there

above me, and saw something that

at the slope, the crest

of footprints

trail

had walked along without

looked back

I

saw

in the sand,

realizing that

that

walked

I

of another.

had caught it

all.

my

my

breath, although

Adrenaline rushing,

I

heart was

pounding

at

scrambled up the slope, and,

although the crest gave way, a miniature sandslide,

managed

I

make

to

it

over the top.

The

footprints were there,

before me, those that

I

on

the top of the dune, those that had gone

had followed. They ended

there.

scanned the

I

horizon, 360 degrees of dazzling bright wind-sculpted dunes.

From

there

could see the bandanna, a tiny fleck on the horizon, miles away. Then a presence. Felt I

blink

it

between

turn back and the

on

legged, wrists resting

throat

is

leaner than

I,

eyes and

I

Stripped to the

he

I,

sits,

cross-

knees, eyes closed, head leaning back slightly. His

there

is

no

mistake. There are

have seen so much, encountered so

and

spirit in

that

I

when

And

no moon shadows here

to play

many

life

my

a vision steps into

there

yourself

as I

travels, yet,

is

my

life.

manifestations of

somewhat comforting

It is a

I

am

happy

to

know

always surprised

thing.

a self that clings to semirational consciousness,

and touched one of the

when you

and

I

footprints. Like pinching

think you might be dreaming.

look across the sand, his eyes open and his face breaks into a grin,

think, Is this a trap?

And I

it is

can be astonished. As Eduardo said,

knelt in the sand

I

realized that

I

An

hallucination brought

had a

« > >

on by

the Sun?

choice.

could have walked away from the

returned to the self that never

260

I.

on me. I

I

my

squint, sweat stings

am

I felt

me now.

taut, exposed.

It is I,

and

Sun makes me

sunburned and sinewy, healthier than

waist,

And

shoulder blades. Behind

away, and there, where the footsteps end,

it

tricks

my

I

left

the

man on

circle, that

Dance of the Four Winds

the dune.

I

could have

swallowed the urge to

wander

off, that

waited dutifully for the members of the group to wander

back from their day in the desert.

I

have returned, back to the

know

ever

And he

that

I left.

laughs, laughs at

.

.

To

find the other.

He told me so. He unfolded his

back.

first

No

one need

my foolishness, my self-doubt. And I laugh.

out of curiosity, no expectations. impulse.

The

circle.

.

legs

I

I came came seeking nothing, following an

He whom

had

I

and stood before

the jungle.

left in

me and

Sun

the

He

one shadow, mine, across the sand and through him.

at

my back cast

spread his arms,

palms up.

We

embraced.

And

my eyes to the my memory.

the sand at the crest of the dune, closed

I sat in

Sun, and remembered things that had no business being in

There

no such thing

is

as

words begin to make

last self.

.

It is

.

an integrated sense.

a real you. Antonio's

self,

The concept

manifesting

is

it-

.

not a question of multiple

states

of consciousness, but of mul-

tiple selves. I

have met a significant other. The one

who

my

life,

am

all

I

was engaged with

He

hard pressed to describe the things test,

I

learned.

explore, experience the

There

will

be a time and

knowledge that

settled into

consciousness that afternoon. I

would not

relate this particular incident here

were

sublime irony in the face of what had come before. After so

the top of a simple sand

dune and there

clearing before a ruined temple

when

tude of meditation, had opened

my

had

left

that self at the

bottom of

I

live

it

not for

many

hunter and the hunted, stalking power and being stalked by

I

has been

this time.

space elsewhere to

my

the jungle, the one

searching for destiny, looking to the North.

traveling

I

I left in

has followed the path of the warrior while

it,

its

years the

to

come

to

an echo of an experience in a

had encountered myself

in

an

atti-

eyes to stare into the eyes of the jaguar. a lagoon, to find

him

East

years later at the

261

top of a dune in Death Valley. That the power that manifest as myself, should casting

no shadow,

a warrior, an etheric

Since writing this

ahead of me. But,

as I

I

connected with should

I

from the bottom of

rise

a

lagoon and walk,

self.

have begun to understand the challenges that

have

said, these things

lie

belong in another space,

at

another time. Suffice

here to say that

it

began to know something of the nature of

I

the Medicine Wheel, the journey of the eling since

I

boarded that

I first

know

that the

Four Winds

is

power

is

jetliner so

many Februarys

made of more than knowledge and the

also the acquiring

There

is

an energy body.

There

is

a

that

I

had been

trav-

ago.

one may acquire on the journey of the

that

spirit, responsibility felt,

Earth. It

Four Winds

One

skills

to

of different

gained, epiphanies of

become

a caretaker

of the

lives.

acquires this in the South.

Nature body, an etheric body that one acquires in the

West. The body of the jaguar. This

is

the

body

found on the

I

dune.

There

an

is

astral

in the North.

Wisdom of the There

I

is,

action.

body, one that has a lifetime of the

The body of

the ancient masters.

A

stars.

This

is

mystical body.

universe.

think, a causal

That which

body

in the East.

The thought

before the

exists before the fact. Creative principle.

The

eagle body.

So here

new

I

am, knowing that

I

must continue

my

journey. There are

questions to be answered. There are experiences yet to be

served.

sand for a time, and

when

I

sat in the

I

took care to go by a different route. I

turned

at the far base

I

stood and walked

down

the dune,

of the dune and looked up and watched the

sand sliding down, a crystalline wave, a ripple that swept slowly, slipping along the face of the dune to cover our footprints.

person of knowledge walks without leaving tracks.

262