Precious gems preserved in tongues.

The Cusco region is a most special place, in part because the Quechuan language is alive.  Through speaking in this ancestral tongue, millions of people continue to carry the vital lessons related to how to thrive with our Earth Mother - many of which have been lost in our modern languages.  

To me, this is the reason that if you’re interested in ecological restoration, you would be enthusiastic about preserving Indigenous languages.  It’s not just about learning how to say banana in hundreds of different words — although there is beauty just in that.  It’s that our most intimate human knowledge of how to be in good relationship with the Earth is contained in these words. In many important ways, this treasured wisdom is kept alive as the language is spoken.

It’s also a reminder to consider the ancestral language of the land we live on and the opportunities we might have to support its preservation or revival.

An expanded understanding of motherhood.

In Quechuan it’s common for the same word to be used for your mother and your grandmother:  mamay.

I find this so poignant - each of your grandmothers and great-grandmothers: mamay. 

There’s something that is implied in the simple use of this word that is profound.  A sort of pressure that is released to give way to a more expansive shared holding of the role, which can provide an even greater cradle of love.  

You might have seven mamays alive at once (or more, in different family configurations!) and then all your ancestral mamays — holding you like feathers in your wings.  And then, of course, there’s our common Pacha Mamay, reminding us of our overall kinship.

PHOTO:  impromptu screening of the One Word Sawalmem in Quechua.

Stories are our strongest allies when it comes to humanization.

Elders in the Cusco region shared their serious concern about the self-esteem of the youth - especially when it comes to their Indigenous identity.  We had already heard about this worry when we received the request to dub One Word Sawalmem in Quechuan, and this came through strongly this time as well.  

Separately, on this trip I was saddened to witness several white Latin American people make discriminatory comments about Indigenous people - the sort that contribute to this sort of low self-esteem.  

Neuroscience shows us clearly that when we share uplifting, admirable and inspiring examples of Indigenous beauty, knowledge, wisdom, creativity, skill, ingenuity etc. we actively dissolve stereotypes.  Sometimes, though, when we focus only on sharing about the injustice that continues to happen, we forget that these stories are our strongest allies in overcoming dehumanization and invisibility — and in paving the way for healing.  

A prologue to a future journey.

We also met several young mothers who were determined to teach their children their Indigenous language.  This video is of a tender moment where we were watching One Word Sawalmem in Quechua with three generations of a family.  The grandparents, who don't even speak much Spanish,  were very moved to watch the film with their daughter, son-in-law and little granddaughter.

It reminded me of the elder who requested the film to be dubbed.  He said, "I don't know who this Californian man is, but he completely represents us."

Pom and I have been holding a vision of traveling through the Quechuan speaking territory sharing the film, and these small screenings on this trip felt like prologues of that journey.

To travel to Cusco is to be loved by coca.

The two times I have traveled to the region, I have been welcomed with a cup of mate de coca, hot water filled with whole coca leaves. 

Each time I have sat with elders they have offered me coca leaves to chew on.  This time a Q’ero teacher also did a reading of the coca leaves for me.  I’m very much of a beginner when it comes to knowing coca but I have been moved by the delicate sweetness, the mysterious grace, and the enveloping protection extended by this beautiful plant.  

It makes me think of how these experiences have stood in sharp contrast with how discordant and disjointed our experience can become when we come out of relationship with the Earth.  Think about it - what sort of condition would we have to be in to come up with the idea to soak this sacred plant in gasoline to turn it into cocaine to help us deal with the numbing effects of capitalism — all while leaving a long trail of personal, societal and environmental devastation . . .

Sipping on mate de coca throughout my trip was like being infused with a vision of the restoration that is possible when we remember.  When we re-member.

Masterful connection with nature is evident in many aspects of life.

My daughter was on spring break right when my retreat ended so she came to meet me. Unfortunately, the high altitude affected her strongly. She took all the natural recommended remedies including many mates de coca and went through a couple of cans of oxygen but she only felt significant relief twice, for a few hours, with the support of the elders.

First, the Q’ero teacher who welcomed her to Cusco, smudged her with a bouquet of freshly picked herbs and introduced her properly to the Apus (the mountains). A few days later, a Quechuan grandmother who we visited with did the same for her. In both cases, she felt good as new, at least for the hours she was with them.

Since her symptoms did not improve, after a few days we decided to travel to lower altitude into the rainforest and then to Lima. Even though her time in Cusco and the Sacred Valley was cut short, I’m so grateful for this powerful experience that she had. To witness the activation of the elders’ skillful relationships, developed over many generations, on her behalf. To feel this powerful energy in her own body and to receive a little window into the vast healing that is available to us through this masterful connection with nature.

I envision that these moments will come back to inform her in all sorts of poetically unexpected ways as her life unfolds.

People have been asking me if I went for an Ayahuasca ceremony.

On my flight, I was very moved to overhear a group of combat soldiers with severe PTSD traveling to Peru for this reason.

Personally, though, I haven’t been called by the Amazonian vine, so it hasn’t been part of my path.  I think that the reason people wonder about my relationship with ayahuasca is that many of the personal experiences that I share and that I help people develop through nature practice are very similar to what you might expect from journeying with the plant.  

For example –  the increased ability to feel and to receive the flow of the Earth’s love, the knowledge of how to harvest awe and wonder, the enhanced ability to feel alive, the deep knowingness of our capacity to heal and support healing, an amplified introspection and self awareness, the reduction of anxiety, the development of intuitive receptivity, the access to problem solving and being able to envision a more hopeful future.

An ayahuasca experience is said to give you a powerful taste of all of this.  It’s almost as if you were being reintroduced or guided back to being human.  But what is even more remarkable is that what you are being shown is what already exists within you.

My personal experience and that of guiding hundreds of people in developing their own form of nature practice, is that whether you have been called to work with ayahuasca or not, every single one of these benefits are ones that can be activated, sustained and regenerated by restoring and deepening your relationship with nature.  

Food of the gods.

Peru is known for its wide range of spectacular food, but what you wouldn’t know from the restaurants, is how much of traditional Peruvian food is plant-based.  Occasionally the native people in the Cusco and Sacred Valley region will have some dairy or eat a small animal, but almost all of the food they eat at home is vegan.  Mouth-watering and deliciously plant-based.

We had an opportunity to spend a day cooking with a local family - and we enjoyed many varieties of the 75 different types of potatoes they cultivate.  Also gorgeously large, plump fava beans.  Corn, of course.  Toasted.  Boiled.  Popped. Quinoa, whose pomegranate red flowers were in bloom while we were there.   All sorts of freshly picked aromatic herbs to make sauces and spreads.  A true feast.

In these times of highly-priced, highly-engineered, plastic-packaged substances being sold as “vegan food,” this was a nourishing example of what harmony with the Earth can look (and taste!) like.  Simply divine.

A prayer for the snow.

When I was a child, I remember the abundant snow on the Venezuelan Andes.  

People in the Cusco region have the same memory of their Peruvian side of the mountain range.  

My prayer is for us to wake up – without delay – so that the precious snow may return.  For our wellbeing.  For the Earth’s.  And for that of future generations of all beings.