It is February, I’m in Peru, but my only taste of Peru so far has been Arequipa- a city. Behind Arequipa lies a canyon that is on everyone’s tourist to-do list. I go with a small group and a guide for a 2 day/1 night exploration of the area. This morning I have started to feel pangs of anxiety about “what to do next” and worse, “what to do with my life”. I try to bring the hummingbird in, but my mind is exhausted from heavy dreams all night, rolling around in my head, some kind of nocturnal mental washing machine. When I wake, I feel the puzzle pieces of my waking consciousness not quite fitting together like they were a couple of days ago. The inner voice speaks, trying to counteract the dark commentary that has emerged overnight, and it makes sense, but it doesn’t penetrate to the point where I feel soothed and balanced. I feel jagged and lethargic~lots of sharp edges. I need to do something to shift this energy~ thank god I am getting out of the city.
i don’t feel that the ground beneath me is stable
(it never was)
I don’t feel safe
Everything is changing
(change is the only truth)
I don’t know what I am supposed to do
(operative word “supposed”)
I guess the honeymoon period of my trip is over. I am now stepping into those big questions, and one month from now when I am taking medicine in the jungle in Ecuador, I suppose the time will be ripe for the purging of these notions of rules, structure, planning and lines. Not that these things aren’t useful, they are, but i don’t think i have a healthy relationship with these ideas. They control me. They bring me into contact with anxiety, instability, when in fact I want to align with the energy of the hummingbird. Light. Hard working, but light.
As we head out of Arequipa and towards the mountains, I turn to them for answers. As we move up and up, the clouds seem to meet us in that high space. Shadows moving across the mountainside speak to me of impermanence. Strange rock structures sing songs of flexibility. These massive structures tell me that even though things look like they are solid and unyielding, up close they are made of dirt and stone and plants. They move and shift, moulded by wind, water, and lava flows. So too will this dense energy shift, and it is shifting, perhaps imperceptibly, but there is change. With every breath and every step, we are all changing, transforming through experience. Their shapes are beautiful and magnificent for simply surrendering.