Peruvian Story Continued


Aguas Calientes was a bustling town and Viv, my spiritual teacher and Shaman, was well known here. This made my experience even more special, as it meant my Machu Picchu adventures would occur before any other tourists were allowed in.

The trip up to Machu Picchu began on a rickety old bus. We drove for half an hour up the winding, narrow and steep mountain to Machu Picchu. The journey took me up into the cloud rainforest, high mountains cloaked in rich vegetation. The weather was unpredictable—stormy, then hot, and then torrential rain, despite being there during the dry season. Boris, our shaman here, was our guide and had a rich knowledge of the stories of the Inca people. He guided me around, and as looked at the crumbling rocks and intricate statues, I soon realised I’d been there before. When, I didn’t know, but I did remember my way around the ruins, the names of each temple, and the Pyramid at the very top with a sheer drop of some 2,000 feet behind the mountain. My heart began beating faster and faster.

Suddenly, a very vivid memory from the past flashed through my mind’s eye. I had lived there as a revered, young girl and had leapt to my death from the highest pyramid, the one I was just looking at. It was so startling, that I fainted. I watched as Viv and Boris called my life force back from up in the clouds above the pyramid.

I didn’t know at the time, but this experience was a crucial part of my shamanic journey. The way of the Shaman is to learn the way between the realms by experiencing it first hand. This was part of my initiation and a soul contract fulfilled.

Once I had come around, drank some water and eaten a bit of cake (Viv used sugar as a way of grounding the spirit into the body and lowering the vibration, so that it would stay), Viv took me into a cave underneath the city, one only the Shaman knew about. Tourists did not enter it. I recognised it instantly, although I’d never been there before physically, it was somewhere I visited often in meditations, this somehow validated my experience in trance and meditations and made me more confident of what I saw going forward.

Suddenly, a HUGE thunderstorm rolled in. The lightning splintered across the sky in blinding streaks and lit up the interior of the cave. The thunder clapped so loudly, I would have jumped had I not been deep in meditation. I’ve never heard or seen such a natural display of power as this, and the experience was intensified even more as we sat on the cool cave floor together in trance, journeying. I was there to call in my power and did so on the energy of the storm. With the intensity of the thunder, I loudly called to the Universe to reclaim the pieces of myself I’d forgotten, and the lightning charged and carried my intentions back to Source. As the thunder clapped and I called in my power, the lightning brought through one of my personal guides. I connected very strongly with him, one of the White Brotherhood, who was (and still is) nameless. He came to walk beside me—tall, all white, flowing gown, flowing hair, long white beard and bright bright blue sparkling eyes—as I remembered my purpose. He still walks with me today and holds the greatest good and spiritual intention for everyone I work with. He brings me great comfort and joy, and I’ve even seen him with my physical eyes.

After the cave journey, I knew it was time to actually journey physically and face a fear that’s been ingrained in me since ancient times. The Sun Gate at Machu Picchu is the first point of sight of the city. It is 1000 ft higher than the valley below and can only be accessed by the Inca pathway leading to it. This pathway is about 2ft wide and made of huge granite blocks pushed against the side of the mountain. The mountain towered over me to the right, and I carefully placed one foot in front of the other, steadying myself as I drug my hand across the rough rock of the mountainside. To the left of me, beneath the path, I could see the river cutting jaggedly through the valley of lush green trees, but it was so far down, the river was a thin line and the vegetation blended together. From this trail, I could see the land below for miles. I kept thinking one strong blow from the wind, and I’d topple right over the edge, as there wasn’t much room to move. The path was only wide enough for one body with very little wiggle room.

I found comfort, though, in a blue butterfly that had joined me at the start of my trek up the steep mountain trail and my newly discovered white guide. These symbols meant I was on the path, literally, of true transformation and of letting go of the fear that arose in embracing who I was at the core.

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