Myself and Dan, walking to the belly of the beast - El Brujo, the life-taking pyramid
We arrived at El Brujo a little before noon, sweeping into the extraordinarily remote and sandy coastal mecca. The two pyramids appeared more like large sandy mounds; deceptively simple. I felt like we were a band of warriors, parking our van a stone’s through from the ocean, and piling out with panchos and day packs in tow. We definitely had a mission; it was time to make peace with power.
Howard set up the Mesa (see David’s comments on my last blog for amazing pictures of the pyramids and the Mesa) right on the shore, and we plopped down in the sand to prepare for our Journey. I was once again the first woman to drink, and noticed that myself and the other two first-ies had a heaping dose of Huachuma. Howard gives us what we need, so I accepted this with little contemplation. I only knew it was bloody hard to get all that medicine down – harder than ever before.
I sat in the sand, watching my companions take their turn, feeling both scorching hot and icy cold. The wind hit us with ferocious, cold gusts, yet the sun felt merciless. The sky had a smattering of skinny, whispy clouds, surrounded by brilliant blue. The coast looked endless – staring down the sandline became an infinite, desolate trip. I sucked in all these contrasting sensations, and felt myself shift into acceptance. Resistance would make this trip so devastatingly hard; I had to just Receive.
Once the ceremony ended, we were given an hour and a half to wander the beach. We were told to meet back at the Mesa at 3, and could let the Huachuma sink in as we found our own private, sandy space.
I headed for a faraway wall to take a bathroom break. I wasn’t sure I needed it, but I was quite certain this would be my one and only cherry opportunity to do so. My period had been teasing me anyway; I needed to know if there was any serious breakthrough so I could be prepared.
Try as I might, I couldn’t go to the bathroom. This is odd for me – as I hovered above the weeds I tried to figure out what this must mean. Everything, you see, has a meaning, and during the Huachuma hours, I am infinitely determined to understand them all. But I couldn’t connect any more than I could pee, so I gave up, pulled up my jeans, and meandered down to the water.
The wind- dear God, I can’t even describe her roaring power. As the medicine began to really take hold, all I could hear was this awesome, seething and absolutely constant growl. At times, I thought I heard a band of helicopters swooming in, but it was just another massive swirl of wind. I finally landed on my ass with a thud, right into a large sand mound, and I put my head in my hands and just … breathed her in.
Watching the motion of the water mesmerized me. I thought about the significance of hte mounds that loomed behind – one life taking, one life giving. As endless and necessary as the back and forth flow of the surf. And just as beautiful, just as easy, if we let it be sp. Everytime I thought of the life taking pyramid, I felt my heart flip. I still didn’t understand the need for human sacrifices – then or now. I couldn’t connect to the poetry of killing.
I stood up to grab a walk, and the life taking Huacha swirled into view. I yanked my head away and fell into the intense, primal noises the wind made. The idea of power started to simmer in my blood. I was told I have the capacity to give life and to take it. I resisted; I didn’t want such abilities. I didn’t want this awesome power.
I leaned over and threw up into the sand.
It’s not common to purge on Huachuma, and I knew this. But it made sense, of course – I was resisting. I cried a little, yet felt myself willing to acknowledge my role. My little voice echoed the words that would become my mantra of the day -
- Give up your power and become empowered.
That was it – that was exactly what I wanted to do. To wash away the egotistical need for control, and instead give homage to the Spiritual world and the planet; those who really have the power over us. I looked out at the water and heard the wind tell me another truth:
- I am in control.
I was the planet; I knew this intently. I fell back into the sand and cried openly now, apologizing to the earth for my abuse. Oh my God, I was so sorry. I thought of all the times I chose to hurt her; casting out my trash, sourcing my own small but infinite destruction, and ceasing to help her heal. Using her. Every goddamn day, using her without so much as a thank you. I felt so small and despicable. I knew in my heart she could cast us all off immediately, if that was her intention; through tsunamis and earthquakes and all her many ways. The planet was tolerating us. And it was high fucking time we start acknowledging our real Mother.
The water crawled dangerously close to my sitting frame, but I didn’t run; I trusted her not to drench me. She danced at my feet but didn’t make physical contact; every near miss made me smile.
I suddenly saw a little movement, and looked down to see a tiny crab flitter towards me. I felt love for him, and asked the Universe to send me more. As I did so, I stood up and started to see them – there were literally hundreds of crabs, bolting up from their tiny, temporary homes and running for nearby rocks and holes, safe from the reach of the water. They blended so beautifully with the sand, and I found their dancing amazing. My heart just surged to be with them – to be small and shelled, living in this sacred place. As my yearning intensified, a purple glow called to me underneath the sand. I spied a tiny piece of pinkish, violet shell, and scooped it out of it’s dusty resting place. It was a delicate crab shell, once the guardian of some lovely animal’s soft-sides. It spoke to me – telling me to bring it home. I worried about this mission, knowing I had a long day of adventure left, and a hardcore journey home. How would I keep it safe? I shrugged and wrapped it in my spare toilet paper, tucking it inside the pocket of my windbreaker. Now I knew why I couldn’t pee – I needed the protection for my powerful gift.
It was time to return to the Mesa, and the Huachuma had really hit us all full throttle. We assembled back at our Mesa in pairs, touching the living artifacts and trying to feel a little grounded.
We knew the Journey had just begun. We were going inside those pyramids; we were going to know such incredible power.
Howard came back, and he motioned for the life giving Huacha. As we marched to her base, I felt my insides start to shake and quivver. The wind intensified, and everything started feeling so – feminine. So fucking alive. My womb sprang to life, and I started feeling pulses inside of myself that had never, ever been there before.
Something Big was happening to me. I felt a tricke of liquid fall between my legs, and knew the flood of blood had returned; at the most perfect moment. I couldn’t bring myself to care about my jeans or my vanity. I just welcomed her tears, her power. This was life. And I was about to understand it in ways I could have never dreamed.
