If I'd known then how long and hard the process would be, I'm not sure I would have begun. But I was naïve and curious, so I unwittingly began a healing journey I didn't know I needed to take. I'm not able to describe all that happened spending time with Grandmother, both in and out of ceremony, in a single post on this web of mine. That's a book-length story for another time.
As for my recent visit to the jungle retreat, the deepest and most abiding lesson began as soon as I arrived there, although I didn't realise it at the time. My first time at the retreat was a year and half ago, when I met the lovely extended family who own and operate the retreat, under the leadership of married couple Victoria and Alberto, as well as Jessica, the resident ayahuascera. I was really looking forward to seeing them all again because everyone had been so generous and kind to me my first time there. And it seems they were looking forward to seeing me as well, because I was received with so much love and joy I momentarily thought they must have mistaken me for someone else. My reception was an embarrassment of emotional riches filled with all kinds of aw shucks moments.
I was overwhelmed with an outflowing of love from open, trusting, and trustworthy people, who made me feel completely safe and at
home in a strange and exotic place. Indeed, it was all that love and support that gave me the strength to drink Grandmother's jungle juice when I did. That's what love does. It gives you courage to do things you otherwise wouldn't be able to do. I spent a week on Grandmother's turf with people who were unobtrusively attentive to my needs. Little by little I was learning Grandmother's deepest lesson in the daily interactions and activities at the retreat, completely outside of ceremony. Of course Grandma saved the really tough stuff for tea time, when she was purging me of my demons. It was only after those bad guys were expelled as the retreat was nearing an end that I was fully and finally able to recognise that the big lesson I was learning was indeed about love, especially love for myself.
So it wasn't random at all that I developed a very large, ugly cold sore on my lower lip, that ended up crawling a third of the way down my chin. In the past I've gotten cold sores after experiencing a radical change in climate. But I've been to Peru before, as well as other tropical countries, and not had any problems in that regard. But this time was different. My first lesson in self-love was literally in my face. Learning self-acceptance while feeling like a leper isn't easy. Fortunately, all the good people at the retreat, custodial family and fellow participants alike, were sweet and sympathetic, and clearly didn't seem to mind the eyesore on my mouth and chin as much as I did. I didn't let anyone take close up pictures of me, and I sure wasn't taking any selfies. To make matters even harder for my beleaguered self-esteem, my retreat mates - two women and two men - weren't just thoughtful and kind, they also happened to be really good looking. Those fine people proved to me that true beauty is more than skin deep, and they had it both inside and out. (Please know that good looks weren't a prerequisite for being on the retreat.)
My time in the jungle also proved to me that everyone is a teacher. We all teach by example, whether we're aware of it or not, and I had some of the best teachers ever. I've never been much of a hugger, but I eventually got the knack of it because it would have been rude and ungrateful of me to not return all the hugs I received as soon I arrived, and then again when I was leaving. All that hugging coming at me from all directions finally broke this hug-resistant person down.
As ancient and formidable as Grandmother is, she's always availed herself of teaching assistants when I've visited her in Peru, usually in the shape of animals. She knows I trust them more than humans, so she's used their services in the past to help teach me about life and love. This time, however, her helper was Luciana, a little girl of about five years old. Just like animals, small children are basically innocent and don't censor the way they feel.
It wasn't until the end of the retreat, however, when we were preparing for the long journey back to Cusco that I realised that Luciana had been Grandmother's designated teaching assistant. I was standing quietly aside while the van was being loaded with our luggage, when I noticed Luciana walking towards me with great purpose. She came right up to me, grabbed me around my waist and gave me a huge, heartfelt hug. I was more than a little surprised and deeply moved. I didn't know what I had done to deserve such spontaneous and ingenuous affection, but I quickly pulled myself together, knelt down and returned her sweet gesture. It was my favourite hug the whole week. So if I revert to my usual "air hugs" now that I'm back home, I'll just find myself a little kid to practise on and work my way back up to hugging big people.
It's no accident (nothing that happens in Grandmother's realm is) that Luciana's name means "light." I feel honoured that she chose to shine her light on me. It allowed me to see myself through a child's unspoiled young eyes.
It's unrealistic to think that love can cure all bodily ills, but even a little love can help to heal a wounded soul. I'm lucky - I got more than my fair share for a week in the jungle. And I shall be forever grateful to all those beautiful people from whom I learned the greatest love of all - love for myself.
So mote it be.
- g.p.
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