y stories from my brief, intense time there, and some of them will no doubt end up on this little web of mine, while others I've already told to a few friends, and there are at least a couple that will stay safely stored in my heart and soul. They are all a part of me now, and I've learned a little more about myself and this earth to which I belong.By now regular readers of this space will know of my obsession with signs and synchronicities - messages from the Universe. I tend to measure the magical content of any experience by the number of synchronicities that occur, and my time in Peru was one big, fat billboard of a message, scribbled from top to bottom and side to side with sign after sign, each one more potent and meaningful than the last.
Although I did my best not to expect anything, I still wanted and hoped for magic. I was not disappointed. Magic was everywhere, mostly disguised as signs and portents, big and small, light and dark. The first most memorable "coincidence" was on my way to the airport. I was sitting at the back of a city bus that drives non-stop to the airport, when I noticed an abandoned book on an empty seat at the front. Although the book was lying face down, I recognized it right away, because I work in a bookstore and it's a long-time best-seller. It was The Celestine Prophecy by James Redfield. I'd read some of it over 20 years ago, but I wasn't able to finish it because I thought it was New Age piffle, and rather poorly written to boot. The last laugh's on me, of course, because that book has made Mr. Redfield a very wealthy and successful writer. All the more power to him. Nonetheless, I didn't give the book much more thought for many years, except to notice, rather ruefully, that it was a perennial best-seller.
Flash forward many years to yours truly sitting on an airport-bound bus and spotting the book on an empty seat, just waiting to be claimed by the right person. Well, wouldn't you know, that person was me. I recalled quite clearly that the main premise of the book was about the importance of paying attention to signs and synchronicities. It's a great premise, but it obviously wasn't enough to hold my attention all those years ago.
I confess to being a little bit of a book-snob, and wondered if I should give the book another try, despite less-than-stellar writing. I vaguely remembered that the story took place somewhere in South America, maybe even Peru. So I told myself to walk over and find out just where the story happens, and if it's Peru, then it's an obvious sign this book is meant for you, so pick it up and read it, for Goddess' sake. Some of you readers probably know what comes next, because yes, the story is set in Peru.
So began my own Peruvian journey, filled with meaningful coincidence and happenstance. I read the entire book on the flight to Lima, and still didn't glean much more than I did the first time, except to note the significant way I came upon it. But the message was clear - pay attention. And pay attention I did.
Making note of details in an exotic land isn't hard. After all, that's part of the reason people travel, to see and experience new things. Peru kept me vigilant and on my toes all the time. There was an abundance of strange and wondrous landscape, flora, and fauna. I probably wasted precious minutes trying to take a well-composed photograph when I should have been just enjoying the view. After all, I can google Machu Picchu anytime and get far better pictures. So when I finally learned to slow down, b
reathe, and relax about taking everything in, there was room for magic.***
Peru is a land of butterflies and hummingbirds. The blue morpho, probably one of the most photographed, painted, depicted and marketed of all butterfly species, is native to the Amazon basin. Every time I saw one I stopped breathing for a moment, lest the spell it cast be broken. I also saw at least a dozen glass-wing butterflies fluttering in dense foliage beneath a rainforest cascade. I'd anticipated seeing a few blue morphoes, but I'd completely forgotten about the glass-wings, which I'd first read about only a few years ago. Their thinly-outlined, transparent wings are truly otherworldly, and render them virtually invisible to predators. It's no wonder that butterflies are fabled to be fairies in disguise. The same goes for hummingbirds. And oh my Pachamama were there hummingbirds! Hummingbirds are a very special totem for me, and will always remind me of my mother. (Yet another story for another time.) So in a land where I reconnected with Mother Earth (Pachamama to the native Peruvians), the plethora of hummingbirds that darted all around me kept me thinking of my mother specifically, and all mothers in general, and the biggest mother of all, Earth herself.
I was very near the end of my stay in Peru when I spotted what was to be the last hummingbird I would see there. (Sorry, I can't tell you what kind, there's a wide variety of hummingbirds in Peru.) Anyway, I was enjoying the dance the little bird was doing around a flower, and musing on the fact that I'd been graced with so many visits in Peru from two of my favourite creatures, when I suddenly realized that these two significant totems were also tattooed on my body! There are many animals and insects that have meaning for me, but the two that visited me the most in Peru are not-so-coincidently my tattoos. I have a butterfly tattooed on my arm, as well as a hummingbird on my ankle, and I got them long before I ever knew that I'd be going to Peru.
I've always known that we write our own stories as we live out our lives. Every choice we make, everything we say or do is part of our narrative. And like any story, there's usually some foreshadowing somewhere. Of course the images I permanently etched into my skin are meaningful to me, and are stories unto themselves, but my trip to Peru has shown just how deep, prescient, and multi-layered in meaning those symbols really are. (That's why I marvel at how some people deliberately put unpleasant, negative images on their bodies. Don't they realize the kind of karma they're attracting?)
Not all messages were joyous, however. On my first full day in the Sacred Valley of the Andes, I stumbled upon a dead kitten at the gate to Apu Lodge, the hostel where I was staying in Ollantaytambo. (Apu is the Quechua word for spirit or god, and many of the mountains are homes to gods and spirits.) I had gone on a short walk in town, and when I returned barely thirty minutes later, I found the kitten sprawled out on the cobblestones, just feet from the gate. She was still warm to the touch. I didn't want to leave her there, so I picked up her inert body and brought her into the garden. She was so tiny she fit into the palm of my hand.
I informed the owner and staff of my discovery, weeping all the while. They were most understanding, and promised to give her a proper burial. A lovely young woman from England, who worked at the lodge, performed a native smudging
ceremony on me, cleansing my soul and thanking the spirit of the kitten for sacrificing herself so that I could learn and grow. And indeed, my time in Peru turned out to be powerful and life-altering - a symbolic death and rebirth.After finding the lifeless kitten, my journey was filled with many butterflies and hummingbirds, totems that signify transformation and resurrection respectively. (In the high Andes of South America the hummingbird is taken to be a symbol of resurrection, because it goes into a state of suspended animation on cold nights - a small death of sorts - but comes back to life again with the warmth of the morning sun.)
So there it is. One small, but deeply significant part of my journey in Peru. It's not the sort of story I can tell everyone, or publish as travel writing, because what I'm describing is really my inner journey, and not about where I went or what I did. Materialists and prosaic, type A personalities don't understand, but they don't spend time here, where I write freely about the things that matter to me. This is my place to spin and weave tales of minor miracles and magic.
Yes. It really is good to be home.
- G. P.
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