Love & The Goddess (23 page)

“Now we drive uphill, but we cannot go the whole way,” Hakalan called back to us from the front. “So we will walk the last part. It’s not very high but you need to hold
on to your seats because it’s bumpy.” The bus started to ascend a steep pass. My skeleton felt discommoded from my skin as I bounced up and down in the seat. By the time we stopped it
was a welcome relief to have to walk the remainder. Hakalan led the way, through a gate to a rocky pass which veered left and then took an extreme right turn up the top of a small hill, the path
sparsely edged with woody shrubs and wild cacti. I found myself walking side by side with the shaman as James and Maria lagged behind chatting.

“Do you mind me asking how you became a shaman?” I asked.

“My father was a shaman before me – there’s a lineage in my family. When I was a teenager he introduced me to the shamanic path. Long before that I heard Pachamama calling me
to her.” He pulled up his floppy wide-brimmed hat which had been hanging from a string around his neck – the sun was beaming strongly down on top of us. “I was naturally attracted
to power places even when I was a little boy. The shamanic way is a calling from the place of the heart to tap into an inner wisdom where decisions can be made, not from the rational mind which is
related to the ego ....” Here he paused for emphasis before continuing, “but from the heart,” while tapping his chest.

“That sounds fascinating.” God, I was beginning to sound and feel like a groupie. I’d even begun twirling my hair in a flirtatious manner whenever he looked sideways at me.
What had gotten into me? He had a strange animal magnetism, almost panther-like. We’d stopped at the remains of some old stone dwellings and stood waiting for the others to catch up.

“What about you, Kate? Why are you on this journey?” he asked while we waited.

“To heal my broken heart,” I said.

“Your heart will heal if you keep it open. Do not allow bitterness in. Have forgiveness,” Hakalan said softly. As the others arrived, he announced, “We will have our ceremony
here. Would you like to sit down? You can grab one of those big stones to make a seat.” Seated in a half lotus position, he asked us to sit with him in a circle. He took several items from
his rucksack, including a bottle of yellow-coloured liquid, Peruvian floral water, which he stood up to sprinkle over each of us in turn. The citrusy scent was pleasant and invigorating.
“That will help cleanse your aura.” He sat down again to cradle a metal bowl containing dried herbs. Striking a match, he proceeded to light them and place the vessel at the centre of
our circle. “Now we will have our initiation ceremony to welcome you to Pachamama, our great mother earth,” he said, tapping the ground, “This place is what is known as a power
place. Can you tell me what you understand a power place to be?”

“A vortex. It has special energy,” James offered.

“A place where ancient people came to worship,” I said.

“Or give offerings,” Maria volunteered.

“Yes, you are all right in some respects.” Hakalan’s dark eyes widened as he continued. “A line running around the centre of the Earth aligns Machu Picchu with the Great
Pyramid of Egypt, the Nazca lines and Easter Island. Electromagnetic underground currents known as ley lines run through these vortexes. Machu Picchu is a primary energy vortex, which like the sun
radiates rays to other places such as this place. The ancients understood sacred geometry and how these places were connected to each other along vertical lines. The energy is strong here. Do you
feel it?”

James and Maria nodded. I wasn’t sure since I’d had a tingling in my legs since my arrival. Hakalan continued, “I want you to close your eyes and breathe deeply. Let go of your
thoughts and connect to Pachamama, our great mother earth. What do you want from this, your sacred journey? Go deep and see what it is you need. Then open your eyes.”

We did as he suggested and after a few minutes opened our eyes. Hakalan was seated again and he began unfolding a scarlet cloth to reveal an elaborately embellished short Incan sword in an
engraved silver scabbard. He kissed the sword and passed it to James sitting beside him. “I will pass this around to you and as you take it, hold it to your heart. Each of you say what you
want to receive from Pachamama while you are here.”

“I want peace of mind,” James said, holding the sword close to his chest. He then passed it to Maria.

“I want love, also to love myself.” After embracing the sword, Maria passed it to me.

It took me a moment to think of exactly what I wanted. Then I held it to my chest saying, “I want to learn forgiveness.” I had been planning to ask for the same as Maria, but in
truth, I found forgiveness difficult and despite my best intentions seemed to hold grudges as I had done with my sister Liz. Some days I felt as if I could forgive Trevor, since it seemed we were
equally responsible for our dying marriage. Then the next day I’d wake up lonely and want to blame him for rejecting me. These opposing sets of thoughts came in and out of my mind like waves
in an ocean. After embracing the sword, I passed it back to Hakalan.

“All right, close your eyes again and let us meditate on that for a few moments. We call on the spirit of Pachamama to bring love into our hearts, to love ourselves and one another with
great compassion and kindness. We ask that we may integrate the male and female energies in ourselves and in the planet for harmony and peace between all the races of this earth.” Hakalan
broke into a chant, like a drumming sound interspersed with crying, “Pach … a … mam … a.” I flicked my eyes open momentarily and saw him stand up to blow wafting
smoke from the incense over each of our heads, before sitting down again. I felt self-conscious as I briefly wondered what Julie and Trevor would think if they saw me. Then, just as quickly, I
shrugged away the thought and relaxed. “Now, you finish by putting your right hand over your heart and your left hand over your centre, which is called your dantean. In this way you give
yourself a loving hug. We all need to have forgiveness for ourselves and for anything we feel we have failed at, before we can forgive anyone else. And we need to love ourselves first. Now breathe
deeply as you sit there. Know that Pachamama holds you close.”

We each followed his instructions. It was very peaceful sitting in the warmth of the afternoon sun, while birds sang in the nearby bushes. Time lost all meaning until eventually Hakalan told us
to slowly come out of our trance. As James and Maria got up, Hakalan offered me his hand, a strong muscular grip pulling me to stand up. As our eyes met, a shiver ran through me.

Making our way back, Hakalan walked a few paces ahead of us. I felt a little insecure and wasn’t sure why. The shaman had an unsettling effect on me and I felt I was a little on the fringe
of James’s relationship with his cousin. She was so quiet and serene that I found it difficult to strike up a conversation with her. I knew, as his only relative living in Ireland, she had
been good to James when he hit rock bottom and finally admitted he was an alcoholic in need of help. They were deep in the midst of a conversation about family when Hakalan stopped, letting us pass
through a gate ahead of him. On the other side he turned around to face us, a glint in his dark eyes as he spoke, “You know that here in Peru we worship the Goddess energy?”

“Yes,” James said. “Tell us more about that. I’ve just come from Mexico and I’m trying to figure out the common denominator between these ancient belief
systems.”

“Your priests came here and killed my people.” Hakalan spoke as though he were expecting a reaction. “They said the Incas were stupid because they were dark-skinned and did not
speak their language or worship your God. They destroyed my people. The same thing happened in Mexico.” He looked from me to Maria.

“I agree with you,” I said. “It was terrible, but the same thing happened to the Irish. We were invaded and conquered by the Vikings and then by the British. Our land was
pillaged and taken from us and then we were left to starve during the famine only one hundred and sixty years ago. Around five million people died. Like your people here, we have a very wounded
past.”

Hakalan looked decidedly disinterested in what I’d said. “The Conquistadores and the church were all one. The Christian religion is corrupt. It has always been about power not
love.” He led the way to the van. Opening the door for us, he added, “Now you have all the scandals of priests molesting young men.”

“Come on now,” said James. “What has happened is terrible but that was not what Jesus stood for. I’m not a Catholic but I do know Jesus was an enlightened master. He
didn’t endorse the Conquistadores or the issues we have now with Catholic priests. He sacrificed his own life in the hope of saving humanity.”

Taking her seat in the van, Maria said, “I was brought up Protestant and even though I no longer practice I believe our religion can be the gateway to our spirituality.”

“All Christian religions along with Judaism and Islam insist God is male. All other religions acknowledge the divine feminine. Protestantism even went so far as to abolish the mother of
Christ.” Hakalan’s words landed with a deafening thud. He turned his head away and started up the van.

After a few moments, silence save for the engine and the evocative Peruvian music from the audio system, I murmured, “I’d never thought of that.”

James was not amused. “Religious doctrine is different to spirituality. That’s why we’re here on this trip - to try to unlearn some of the stuff that was drummed into us as
children and instead learn some truths.” He looked as if he was about to say more but decided not to finish. James was articulate and I knew he would be well capable of entering into debate
with Hakalan but for some reason he was restraining himself.

“Me too,” Maria said. “All the gurus I’ve attended have spoken of the need to unlearn before finding truth.”

Hakalan said, “Good. In Peru we believe in the divine feminine, the divinity of Pachamama. We have respect for the earth. Christian religions never speak of caring for the planet that is
being rapidly destroyed by human beings. Do you know we are the most destructive species to ever walk the earth? We pillage and rob from it, yet give nothing back. Bacteria give more back than we
do, because they can recycle waste.”

I finally twigged what the shaman was up to. He was provoking us to think differently. I knew that was supposed to be an aspect of the shamanic way of learning, yet I was beginning to find him
arrogant. Exhausted, I drifted off to sleep, only awakening an hour later when Hakalan announced, “Now we are approaching Ollyantaytambo in the sacred valley.”

We drove into a town nestled at the foot of the mountains, with a river running through it. As we bumped over a bridge, Hakalan said, “That is the Urubamba river. Every year it floods in
the rainy season, threatening to wash away the houses and crops of the people who live here. This year was especially bad.”

James nodded, “It was on the news. The floods were so bad Machu Picchu was closed down for a few months.”

“It must have been awful for the poor people whose houses were swept away,” I said.

“These people are stupid.
Stupid
. Why they build houses here?” Hakalan asked indignantly, looking at us in the rear view mirror as he crinkled his face, and shrugged his
shoulders. “The Incas were not so stupid. They knew you cannot build houses at the river. They built in the mountains. They were master engineers.”

I could feel myself redden from the neck up, dumbstruck by his obvious vitriol. It seemed very out of character with what he had been saying previously, not at all balanced. All spiritual
traditions emphasized compassion for others, yet this man was being disdainful of his compatriots. This really was not how I expected an enlightened person to act.

T
he sky had darkened to a pre-dusk deep blue by the time we approached the Terra Toscana, a four-storey hotel with a simple entrance on a
busy street in Cusco. After we booked in at reception, Hakalan announced he would show us to our rooms. “Leave your bags here and they will bring them up for you. We take the stairs, it is
quicker.” He smiled like an impish schoolboy and raced upstairs ahead of us.

It was a test of physical endurance after the day we’d put in travelling. Maria and I were both panting as we reached the third floor. After showing James and Maria to their rooms, Hakalan
asked me to follow him down the corridor. He opened a door and ushered me inside. “You see what I get for you?” he said, as I stared in astonishment around the lamp-lit, Spanish-style
bedroom, and took in the enormous bed, covered with a beautiful intarsia throw. “I get you this special room. It is the honeymoon suite. If they ask you must say your husband is in the
mountains and he will join you.”

Why was he saying this? “But he isn’t with me and he won’t be joining me.” My voice came out squeaky with alarm.

“But I had to tell them he was coming, in order to get you this special big bed. A big bed is more comfortable for you to sleep in, yes?” This time, there was no doubting his knowing
tone and the seductive way he was looking me up and down.