El Brujo’s life-giving Huacha - the ravine that leads to the top of her
There we were, twelve pilgrims, facing down one of Peru’s – nay, the world’s – most sacred sites: The Huacha Cortada, or the life-giving pyramid.
She’s deceptively small, this moundish creation, and straight down the middle is an old staircase of sorts, welcoming ascension. It’s no optical illusion: this pyramid looked like a vagina. There’s nothing crass in this observation, but the feminine power was absolutely undeniable.
We were nestled in deep into the Huachuma experience by now, and I felt fiery. I didn’t really want to experience the life-giving Huacha – I had my sights set on that life-taking, ominous pyramid across the way. All in due time. It seemed I wanted the dark side more than I cared to admit.
I blazed a trail, as usual, defiantly creating my own path. I noticed the whole crew had gone to the right, standing at the base of the “stairs”, feeling the awesome power. I couldn’t wait on such things – I had to get to the top.
I found a meager path to the left, and started climbing. At one point, I was near the top, but I had reached a chin-high ledge. I looked around for some sort of leverage, something to give me a boost, and found nothing. I simply couldn’t give up. I nudged up on the tops of my toes and gave a heave, knowing it would be in vain, but all kinds of hopeful. As I did, a wind gust swooshed up underneath my feet, and suddenly, I found myself delicately landing on my knees, right where I wanted to be.
I paused to consider this.
- Thank you for another miracle.
I was talking to the Universe. She blasted a whiff of magnificent wind into my face, and I felt her immense welcoming. Oh my god, I was starting to feel *good*.
I bolted up and ran to the edge of the pyramid, toward the impending life-taking structure that lay just across the horizon. I felt so fucking consumed by this temple, knowing the human sacrifices that took place there, thousands of years before. I couldn’t stop staring. The tears started flowing in droves now, and I plopped down for a little meditation. I thrust my face toward the force, chin sky-high, and resisted it’s seduction. I would never be a part of the darkness. But I had to know what was inside.
I sat with eyes closed, tearing up with every breath, for ten minutes or so; soaking up the contrast of life and death. The wind was just insane up there, but I didn’t mind her – she brought good tidings. She brought strength and love, incredible jolts of giddiness, and the most amazing, overall feeling of empowerment and joy – things I had never, ever known. I was told to turn my back on the life-taking pyramid and enjoy my stay. It may be the only one I would have in my life, and this place felt beyond Sacred.
I rose to join the other pilgrims; they all sat in an elated circle a stone’s throw away. The sun felt seething and vicious, but we didn’t care. The wind ripped with maddening thrusts, but we loved her back – just as fiercely. It was crystal clear to us why the pyramid was built here – it was a recharging station. A chance to fall in love with life again. A chance to know it was all OK.
Z and I looked out on the valley, and we watched the last 3000 years unfold. Like time-lapse photography, the ancient times appeared, and the landscape showed us her metamorphosis. Civilizations came and went in a heartbeat, buildings rose and fell, people lived and died – all with eyes open. All in the span of a minute. I knew we were time traveling. I knew this was real.
I lay on the ground again, collapsing into an arch in the dirt mound; one that matched the curve of my back. I giggled to myself and grinned up at the clouds. Every last one had the most magnificent, feminine curves.
I placed my hands across my own curvy belly and gave her love. My beautiful, round stomach; the part of me I have cursed so very many times. It was time to say thank you. She was healthy, moon-ish and perfect.
My womb began to speak to me – and I have to admit, I felt resistance. I was learning to be comfortable with my feminine energy; something I have fought most of my life. She asked me a question posed in a previous Ayahuasca ceremony -
- Why do you choose to never consider having kids?
- Because I don’t want them.
- That’s not a good enough answer. Be open. Be who you are, and nothing more.
I sat up to consider this, and felt blood surge again between my legs. Expected, and yet, so symbolic. ( I learned later that V, a woman 59 years old, bled for the first time in 9 years on the top of the Huacha -lest you doubt her power.) Part of me wanted to bleed on this temple; to leave a piece of myself behind, merged with her magnificent energies. I hadn’t forgotten the question, and promised only this -
- I will consider it; having kids. I promise you – I’m open.
I meant it, and as such, the dialogue ceased.
I lay back in the sand and let my mind drift away, merging with the energies around me.
After a while, Howard rallied us up. We grinned stupidly at each other for a spell, still awestruck by the feelings we were experiencing.
- Soak up as much of this as you can, everyone – you’re going to need it.
He gave us The Look, and we knew things were about to shift.
The life-taking Huacha awaited our arrival.
