Since my teenage years, I have been an insatiable student of consciousness, first through information acquired through books, lectures and workshops, and later through more in-depth and experiential training. My interest was initially focused around stories and observations about my immediate family, and later extended to the universality of disfunction, and why some people move forward in their lives to create more balance while others seem consumed by the hungry ghosts of the past.
Curiously, rather than pursuing these interests academically, I chose instead a path of artistic expression using photography as my primary tool. The doctrines of Christianity juxtaposed to the social tenets of the times formed the boundaries in which I explored my own life.
My first trip to Peru was with my husband Rick in 1998. It was our first vacation since his mother’s funeral the year before. We were attempting to bring a semblance of normalcy back into our lives after three difficult years that involved Rick’s commuting back and forth between our home in the Santa Ynez Valley, California, and Missoula, Montana where his mother was being treated for leukemia. During that time, too, his father unexpectedly died from the stress of his wife’s illness.
Six weeks before our trip was to begin, I “retired,” after fifteen years at the University of California at Santa Barbara. I had been running on fumes for months. My plan was to follow my passion by immersing myself in the study of consciousness, indigenous healing practices, and transpersonal evolution through an academic context. I already have a Masters of Fine Art degree so now I would work towards a doctorate. My constant prayer was to become more conscious and discover my soul’s purpose. Now, the stage was set for our trip to Peru.
We headed off, in early October, joining a small group of travelers organized by the World Wildlife Fund. Our itinerary included an exploration of the upper Amazon River Basin as well as Cuzco, the Sacred Valley, and Machu Picchu. While on the Amazon, I mentioned to one of our guides my interest in indigenous healing practices and asked whether it might be possible to meet a local shaman. The next day he took me aside and said that there was a shaman down river that he could arrange for me to meet. The excursion was set for the following evening.
At the appointed hour, after a day filled with adventures that included observing river dolphins, we headed off in smaller boats for a village across the river. After receiving greetings from the village elders, Rick and I made our way into an open-walled enclosure. There I watched spellbound as the shaman stood behind his makeshift worktable lined with brown and green bottles that held medicinal potions. Puffing on a cigarette held in one hand, while shaking a rattle with the other, he cleansed his energy field. Pacing, the shaman began singing an ikaro, his medicine song. The air from his breath, coupled with the beat of the rattle, carried him along song-lines to higher states of consciousness. Singing, rattling and pacing back and forth, he transcended ordinary consciousness until there was no “he,” only an intermediary between Spirit and this world. In this state of ecstasy he conducted a healing ceremony on a local man, we learned later was being treated for soul possession by a river dolphin. Observing the sacred environment this medicine man created and held for his client through his intent and impeccability was a remarkable experience. Afterwards, I met briefly with the shaman to thank him for the extraordinary privilege of watching him work. Never will I forget his piercing gaze into my eyes, and quick nod of his head in acknowledgement.
Several days later while traveling in the Andean Mountains, I began to develop bronchitis and was treated with antibiotics when I returned home. It took three rounds of medication and several more weeks to bring my energy level back to “normal.” By New Year’s Day, I felt my old self. Later that month, during an annual physical exam I was told my white blood cell count was extremely high. After an immediate re-testing that produced the same results, I was referred to an oncologist for further testing. Within the week I was diagnosed with a chronic form of myleogenous leukemia (CML). In a strange, yet quintessential way, I knew my prayers were being answered, and that the medicine man along the Amazon River had assisted in accelerating my evolutionary journey.
Rather than pursue an academic study of consciousness, I was thrown, or did I throw myself, head first into the deep-end of life. Without a conscious plan to do so, I embarked on a dual path. One path follows the course of western FDA-approved medicine as well as a clinical trial with experimental pharmacology and a myriad of testing. The other path leads to direct experiences in mapping and more deeply understanding human consciousness — my consciousness. Through this latter path, I began to know first-hand the role the flow of energy plays within our luminous energy field, the limitations of western and energy medicine practices, and the benefits I receive from melding the two in complimentary ways. The results are quantifiable through blood tests, bone marrow biopsies, and the state of my physical, emotional, mental and spiritual well-being. Unexpectedly, along the way I found myself becoming a student, an instructor, a chronicler, and even a practitioner of energy medicine in the Inka tradition.
It is with this background that, in 2002, the stars aligned. First, the clinical trial I was participating in through the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center was prematurely cancelled, and I was able to have a catheter removed from my chest where the experimental medication was infused on a monthly basis. A different clinical trial had proven very successful for my type of leukemia and was being fast-tracked through the FDA. But, for now, my only limitation to travel was refrigeration for the two medications I needed to infuse daily — not insurmountable. The second important alignment was a space opened up a month later on a trip that was scheduled to Peru less than two months away with a small group of fellow students of Inka healing practices to experience Cuzco, the Sacred Valley and Machu Picchu in a medicine way — a journey steeped in ritual, ceremony, and an animistic reverence for all life. Our group would also make a pilgrimage to Ausangate, one of the most holy mountains in the Q’ero cosmology.
The Q’ero people live in one of the most remote areas of the Peruvian Andes and believe themselves to be last descendants of the Inka. Their three-world cosmology is elegant and complex, and it has ignited my heart and awakened my soul. It is a worldview informed by the principle of right-relationship or ayni — right-thinking, right-loving, and right-action. Much more, ayni also refers to the dance of duality between masculine and feminine expressions of energy, the balancing of complimentary opposites, and being in right-relationship with Spirit and Pachamama, the eternal feminine that is expressed in our world as Mother Earth. In their cosmology the Upper World forms the matrix of life — superconsciousness — and governs our beliefs, thoughts, ideas, and is the source of inspiration. Our everyday reality forms the context for the Middle World, which is engaged or not through our emotional availability to create relationships. The dark fertile place of all possibility is the domain of the Lower World and the unconscious, which expands or contracts our sense of what is possible in our life, and fuels our ability to manifest ideas and create highly functional relationships. When these three “Worlds” are in alignment magic happens, when not, dis-ease occurs at the physical, emotional, mental or spiritual level.
My life, some might say, was turned upside down after my first trip to Peru. To me, it was the start of a richly creative and productive period that continues to this day. What personal mysteries would this trip reveal? Would my life again be turned upside down? Could this trip return me to ayni — the place of wholeness? The answers to these questions is what I hope my personal story reveals.
Curiously, rather than pursuing these interests academically, I chose instead a path of artistic expression using photography as my primary tool. The doctrines of Christianity juxtaposed to the social tenets of the times formed the boundaries in which I explored my own life.
My first trip to Peru was with my husband Rick in 1998. It was our first vacation since his mother’s funeral the year before. We were attempting to bring a semblance of normalcy back into our lives after three difficult years that involved Rick’s commuting back and forth between our home in the Santa Ynez Valley, California, and Missoula, Montana where his mother was being treated for leukemia. During that time, too, his father unexpectedly died from the stress of his wife’s illness.
Six weeks before our trip was to begin, I “retired,” after fifteen years at the University of California at Santa Barbara. I had been running on fumes for months. My plan was to follow my passion by immersing myself in the study of consciousness, indigenous healing practices, and transpersonal evolution through an academic context. I already have a Masters of Fine Art degree so now I would work towards a doctorate. My constant prayer was to become more conscious and discover my soul’s purpose. Now, the stage was set for our trip to Peru.
We headed off, in early October, joining a small group of travelers organized by the World Wildlife Fund. Our itinerary included an exploration of the upper Amazon River Basin as well as Cuzco, the Sacred Valley, and Machu Picchu. While on the Amazon, I mentioned to one of our guides my interest in indigenous healing practices and asked whether it might be possible to meet a local shaman. The next day he took me aside and said that there was a shaman down river that he could arrange for me to meet. The excursion was set for the following evening.
At the appointed hour, after a day filled with adventures that included observing river dolphins, we headed off in smaller boats for a village across the river. After receiving greetings from the village elders, Rick and I made our way into an open-walled enclosure. There I watched spellbound as the shaman stood behind his makeshift worktable lined with brown and green bottles that held medicinal potions. Puffing on a cigarette held in one hand, while shaking a rattle with the other, he cleansed his energy field. Pacing, the shaman began singing an ikaro, his medicine song. The air from his breath, coupled with the beat of the rattle, carried him along song-lines to higher states of consciousness. Singing, rattling and pacing back and forth, he transcended ordinary consciousness until there was no “he,” only an intermediary between Spirit and this world. In this state of ecstasy he conducted a healing ceremony on a local man, we learned later was being treated for soul possession by a river dolphin. Observing the sacred environment this medicine man created and held for his client through his intent and impeccability was a remarkable experience. Afterwards, I met briefly with the shaman to thank him for the extraordinary privilege of watching him work. Never will I forget his piercing gaze into my eyes, and quick nod of his head in acknowledgement.
Several days later while traveling in the Andean Mountains, I began to develop bronchitis and was treated with antibiotics when I returned home. It took three rounds of medication and several more weeks to bring my energy level back to “normal.” By New Year’s Day, I felt my old self. Later that month, during an annual physical exam I was told my white blood cell count was extremely high. After an immediate re-testing that produced the same results, I was referred to an oncologist for further testing. Within the week I was diagnosed with a chronic form of myleogenous leukemia (CML). In a strange, yet quintessential way, I knew my prayers were being answered, and that the medicine man along the Amazon River had assisted in accelerating my evolutionary journey.
Rather than pursue an academic study of consciousness, I was thrown, or did I throw myself, head first into the deep-end of life. Without a conscious plan to do so, I embarked on a dual path. One path follows the course of western FDA-approved medicine as well as a clinical trial with experimental pharmacology and a myriad of testing. The other path leads to direct experiences in mapping and more deeply understanding human consciousness — my consciousness. Through this latter path, I began to know first-hand the role the flow of energy plays within our luminous energy field, the limitations of western and energy medicine practices, and the benefits I receive from melding the two in complimentary ways. The results are quantifiable through blood tests, bone marrow biopsies, and the state of my physical, emotional, mental and spiritual well-being. Unexpectedly, along the way I found myself becoming a student, an instructor, a chronicler, and even a practitioner of energy medicine in the Inka tradition.
It is with this background that, in 2002, the stars aligned. First, the clinical trial I was participating in through the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center was prematurely cancelled, and I was able to have a catheter removed from my chest where the experimental medication was infused on a monthly basis. A different clinical trial had proven very successful for my type of leukemia and was being fast-tracked through the FDA. But, for now, my only limitation to travel was refrigeration for the two medications I needed to infuse daily — not insurmountable. The second important alignment was a space opened up a month later on a trip that was scheduled to Peru less than two months away with a small group of fellow students of Inka healing practices to experience Cuzco, the Sacred Valley and Machu Picchu in a medicine way — a journey steeped in ritual, ceremony, and an animistic reverence for all life. Our group would also make a pilgrimage to Ausangate, one of the most holy mountains in the Q’ero cosmology.
The Q’ero people live in one of the most remote areas of the Peruvian Andes and believe themselves to be last descendants of the Inka. Their three-world cosmology is elegant and complex, and it has ignited my heart and awakened my soul. It is a worldview informed by the principle of right-relationship or ayni — right-thinking, right-loving, and right-action. Much more, ayni also refers to the dance of duality between masculine and feminine expressions of energy, the balancing of complimentary opposites, and being in right-relationship with Spirit and Pachamama, the eternal feminine that is expressed in our world as Mother Earth. In their cosmology the Upper World forms the matrix of life — superconsciousness — and governs our beliefs, thoughts, ideas, and is the source of inspiration. Our everyday reality forms the context for the Middle World, which is engaged or not through our emotional availability to create relationships. The dark fertile place of all possibility is the domain of the Lower World and the unconscious, which expands or contracts our sense of what is possible in our life, and fuels our ability to manifest ideas and create highly functional relationships. When these three “Worlds” are in alignment magic happens, when not, dis-ease occurs at the physical, emotional, mental or spiritual level.
My life, some might say, was turned upside down after my first trip to Peru. To me, it was the start of a richly creative and productive period that continues to this day. What personal mysteries would this trip reveal? Would my life again be turned upside down? Could this trip return me to ayni — the place of wholeness? The answers to these questions is what I hope my personal story reveals.