The inside of El Brujo - this was the holding area for the prisoners. Look closely at their depictions against the wall.

The sun started to dip away from sight, still casting enough warmth and light to guide us to the final destination. The life-taking pyramid loomed like a devil in the near-distance, beckoning with a taunting sway. Daring us to peek (peak) inside.

I took the lead once again, desparate to know His strength and seduction. Howard had warned us that the travelers often did not make it inside this pyramid; it was an excavation site, after all, and therefore highly guarded. El Brujo’s been on the historical map these days, and in true fashion, man is digging through the dirt to find the answers. Well, we found them – no digging needed.

All I knew was – I wanted inside that damn pyramid.

I fell in step next to Howard and visualized our journey inside, creating an intention. Willing it to happen. The full moon stood pregnant in my view, standing guard; she made me feel infinitely more protected, and my bravado started to surface. Whatever kept me moving, receiving these messages and truths, was fine by me.

We approached to find several armed guards, making their way to greet us. I joined Howard, and he spoke quietly in Spanish. It was clear we were partaking in the mesa, absolutely consumed by Huachuma, and it was up to them to determine whether or not we could know what lie inside. They didn’t hesitate. We were welcomed.

I flew down the remainder of the path and entered a the bottom section of the pyramid. A large, cleared area in the shape of a square awaited, surrouned by three walls. The walls held thousands-year old paintings; dulled by time, but no less alive. Across the front wall, a procession of red tribal men appeared, fully naked, with huge, ominous erections. They were marching before my eyes, heading to a certain fate. This was where the Mochi would lead their prisons; those about to be sacrificed so the rest of the tribe could be saved from deadly El Nino. We could hear their muffled cries.

I fell to the ground in homage, closing my eyes to shut out the agony. It was deafeningly silent in there; something I hadn’t expected. After the thunderous roar of the life-giving huaca, I had expected a cacophony in the life-taking counterpart. He offered nothing but erie, seductive silence, and it chilled me. Made me quivver and heave.

After a spell, I gave up all my strength and just lay on the ground. I could still smell blood in the air; still hear the sound of endings. Feet shuffling, groans releasing, fear disappating. I knew the prisoners were also on Huachuma during their last hours, and I started to connect with the beauty – how would they know the difference between the waking world and death? I wasn’t sure what side I was on anymore. And that was fucking beautiful.

Howard summoned us to take a walk upward; we were allowed to trace the prisoner’s steps up a ramp, and forced to stop at a point where the excavating was blocked off. Oh my god, as we approached an upper wall, I really didn’t think I could make it. There was still no sound, but the dramatic force bouncing off that wall and into my frame felt like a bulldozer. I felt myself leave the pyramid, becoming one with prisoners everywhere. I felt the souls of everyone who had been sacrificed, throughout time. I felt them barreling down into my insides.

We stopped at the top, and soaked in the power. There was a choice to be made, and we were all connecting to it. The Shamans of the Mochi made a choice; they couldn’t stop once power started to seduce them. They allowed their intentions to become self-serving and evil. Would we do the same?

As a symbolic gesture, Howard had us all turn our backs on this atrocious reality. We turned 180 degrees and lingered, our frames sturdy and strong. We would not be seduced. But we weren’t afraid to know it All.

Next, we were led by the guards into the heart of the pyramid; a pitch black, devastatingly erie section filled with paths that dropped off into a sea of darkness. It’s not certain what went down in these caves, but I do know one thing – there was nothing benevolent about the events. This was the temple of doom; the ultimate in ugly power. We know the Mochi became obsessed with black magic, using the prisoners as more than just sacrifices for the gods. We know this was the Mochi’s undoing. And we were learning how easy it was to fall into the lure.

I broke protocol and placed my hands on a nearby wall, needing to feel the energies even more. I panicked when I felt a flashlight fly my way, thinking I had done a horrible deed and angered a guard. Instead, he came to my side, pushing away a large gun that hung around his neck. I pulled my hands away quickly, but he shined a light on the wall I had chosen and pushed my hands back on the rocky structure, allowing me to know even more. I gasped and said thank you, closing my eyes to Receive.

We were then led outside, up a path to the top of the pyramid. Night had fallen now, and the full moon glowed orange and defiant. At the top, guard dogs ran to greet us, acting obedient and curious. As I meandered around, another guard motioned for me to follow him inside a small room to the side. I entered, and immediately felt slaughtered by an unspeakably dark energy. He shown his flashlight on the far away wall, and I saw the most ominous, evil figure I’ve ever seen — a monsterous tribal figure was painted there, his mouth gaping and angry. In one hand, he held a horrendous looking axe; in another, a man’s head.

I moved my hand across my throat and said:

- Here? Aqui? Este is donde … muerte?

The guard nodded. This was the site of the beheadings. The end of the line for the prisoners. Or the beginning, as I was starting to learn. I could feel them all lingering and staring, respectful of my own reverence. I just didn’t like all those eyes.

I lasted about 10 seconds more, than staggered out into the moonlight.

My head was swimming, my heart felt steady and strong. I knew this was the metaphor for humanity; resisting the seduction of separateness and power. Staying connected, living in the heart space — these are difficult tasts. Believing in one’s superiority, holding tight to control – these are much easier choices. For the Mochi, making the wrong decision meant they were all eradicated. And this wasn’t the first or last time.

Isn’t the same thing happening back home? Aren’t we succumbing to the allure of power and perceived independence/superiorities?
My hands shook at the thought of it – poetry, yes. Necessary, yes. But could I do anything to stop the downward spiral?

- Stay in your heart. At all costs. Stay there and others will too.

My voice echoed an answer.

- It’s your protection, and the key survival.

It’s also the way I can help others – our bloody heads are the ones who wage wars and invent words like “seperate” and “hate”. I was remembering. These were things I already knew – we all do – but years of programming had led me astray.

I fell to my knees yet again and embraced El Brujo. This was the most powerful lesson I had ever learned, and civilizations had to fall in order for me to Know. The moon kept shining in her greatness, affirming my realizations – I wasn’t in control. We never are/were. The more of us who realize the awesome power we have, the more we will give it back where it belongs – to the wind, to the Universe, to the benevolent forces that gave us life to begin with.

We walked down the path to our waiting van; all of us changed. All of us knowing we didnt want power, we wanted Empowerment. We finally knew the difference; all it took to show us was a visit to the dark side of heaven.

El Brujo’s life-giving Huacha - the ravine that leads to the top of her

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.

Myself and Dan, walking to the belly of the beast - El Brujo, the life-taking pyramid

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.

El Brujo himself, waiting our arrival

After the uber-amazing Fire Mesa, the crew enjoyed a down day, rested up, then hit the road. Our bus took us to Huachaco Beach, an awesome coastal town brimming with hostels, street art and lovely surf. We had a night of revelry, then arose early the next morn for our Power Mesa at El Brujo.

Prior to all these shenanigans, however, Howard took us to a museum so we could learn all about the Mochi. As the creators of El Brujo, our second Mesa stop, it was integral that we understand their path.

The Mochi were master Shamans. They were an Andean civilization that stretched all the way to the coast, reigning from around 400 BC to 300 AD. They had crazy cool rituals, amazing artwork and jewelry, and a really big fixation on power. In the beginning, I didn’t know how to take this; power is not my strong suit. I duck and cover in it’s strongest showings. I blame power for much of the world’s chaos. And yet, I know it can be so beautiful.

The Mochi uncovered a Huacha (energy vortex) in a desolate coastal area, and they built two small but amazing pyramids to harness the power. One is the feminine Huacha, or life-giving center, and the other is the masculine life-taking pyramid. You can’t have one without the other, after all; such is our undeniable spiral.

The Mochi had one gigantic problem during their reign; the weather. Every 40 years or so, El Nino would swoop down from the north and absolutely devastate their community. As masterful Shamans, however, they started upping the ante, built those pyramids, and decided to take on the task of controlling the weather. Lofty, yes, but with the Mesa magic, anything is possible.

They would stage enormous ceremonies, administering Huachuma to thousands of people. Everyone would be deep in the work, asking the Gods to please spare them the devastation of the next El Nino. It didn’t work, but they refused to give up.

The Shaman developed the idea that perhaps human sacrifices would appease the Gods and grant their wishes. Yet they didn’t plan to offer up the weakest of their tribe; no, they were serious about this contract. They created a blunt instrument that could knock out an opponent, but wouldn’t actually kill them, and they gave them to many of their strongest warriors. Every 30-40 years, when the signs of El Nino started appearing, they’d take these warriors, pair them off, and lead them to battle. Those that won the duels were heroes. Those that lost immediately became prisoners.

The Mochi would then begin another massive Huachuma ceremony, and even the prisoners would partake in the drink. They would lead the captives through a procession to the life-taking pyramid, and after a period of time, each would be taken to the top and executed.

Here’s the thing: it worked. El Nino, for a period of hundreds of years, ceased to create any more significant damage with the tribe, and they were elated. Life was prosperous, and otherwise peaceful. But when those spondella shells appeared on shore – the sure sign that El Nino was planning a return – the Shaman would prepare for another round of sacrifices. And the process would continue.

Eventually, however, controlling the weather simply wasn’t enough for these profoundly powerful people. And isn’t that the way with power – many of us don’t know when to cease the ascension? The Mochi began practicing black magic, too, using the lives of the prisoners as more than just offerings to the Gods. This proved to be the Mochi’s undoings. Within a comparatively short time, they were wiped out forever.

I took all of this information into my deeply open heart, but I couldn’t make peace with the human sacrifices. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was really necessary – couldn’t they have found a better way? Wouldn’t it have been more noble to just take on El Nino and weather the storm, as it were?

Knowing the spiritual portal that Huachuma provided, however, made me instantly connect with what the prisoners must have felt, walking into death while under his spell. I can honestly say there would be no easier transition. Huachuma takes you into the spirit world, the same way that death does. I can imagine that many didn’t even know the difference between “life” and “death.”

Still, this did little to comfort me. Before arriving at El Brujo, I had to acknowledge my judgment for their actions. It made me ill to consider such a tragic fate. But my Voice – the wise one – asked for a little reservation. She insisted I would see the beauty.

As we rode in our bumpy van down the long, lonnngggg dirt road to the ancient El Brujo site, all of these truths collided in my mind. Doing Huachuma at such a dark place felt a little anxious to me, but I was ready. Ready to take off the blinders and see the dark side of heaven.