13 October 2003 Monday On the way to Puno - in Tinajani

From where I stood while taking this photograph, the top, where Americo was leading us, looked to be about a million feet up.

Americo led us up the trail, surrounded by towering phallic spires. The energy is as powerful here as I have experienced, sending huge jolts of current through my body with every step.

By the time I arrived at the top of the trail, whatever was happening inside my body spilled out in a stream of uncontrollable tears. Strangely, what I was feeling was not about any kind of sadness. It felt like a certain kind of memory was trying to get through. I’ve felt like this a few times before in my life. Once in 1978 with mother when we drove together in my open topped sports car just outside Carbondale, Colorado. And, another time when Chase and I were diving together and were visited by an entire pod of dolphins off the coast of Belize. The best I can do is to call it a mixture of ecstasy, remembering and mysterious connection - so welcome, so very welcome.

That is Katie in front with the sun hat, Bless her heart.

As we walked up this steep trail, I watched our beloved Katie, at 83 years old, needing to stop periodically. Not that she asked, but Americo was considerately sensitive to her age and shortness of breath. Jim became her constant guiding companion, his hand in hers, his other hand at her back, carefully watching each step to make sure she was safe. Watching the two of them personified what I see is often missing in the world. It is not how fast one makes it to the top of the hill that matters. Either we all make it, or none of us will.

Our first major trek up into the Andean Altitude. I need to capitalize altitude because this was not a little climb - this was some major heaving, huffing and puffing, with frequent stops. Thankfully, our beloved Katie, who continued to insist she didn’t want to put anyone out, provided all of us, decades younger than she, with welcome rest stops. I know I, for one, was enormously grateful she was with us.

You are me, I heard. I am you, I replied. We are one. Thank you, Pacha Mama.

This extraordinary, mystical region is home to both eagle and hummingbird. Such unlikely companions on the surface, but what works better with soaring eagle spirit than the joy FULL flight of hummingbird?

When we reached the summit, Americo gave us some time to catch our breath while we meditated on this precious gift. I found my place against a large granite rock. Lying against my backpack, I closed my eyes, spread my legs and arms, and inhaled deeply. Open me. Open me wider, I began ...

Then it was time to go down, to what Americo called our second phase. We were met by the Mujera Vieja (Old Woman), the supreme guardian of this sacred place.

After we walked back down, we all sat down for lunch, sharing the small amount of shade provided by the bus. We ate what we had purchased this morning at the outdoor village market. Fresh ripe peaches, mangoes, perfect tangerines, fat avocados and bright red tomatoes, with luscious black Kalamata type olives, and fragrant Peruvian style bread. Marilyn offered me her contribution - animal crackers. As I took one, I felt like so young against the backdrop of this ancient place. No socializing for me after lunch. I want quiet. I want to be made love to by these mountains.

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