14 October 2003 Tuesday Puno

We arrived in Puno in the dark of night, the lights of the city reflecting on the shores of Lake Titicaca. Today was our first real trek up into the mountains. I now sit under the shade of the bus. It is hard to describe what I am feeling. What I hear is: Open to the silence. Let go of mind struggle. Be the wind. Be the mountain. Be calm. Allow for that which changes and that which is changeless. Actually any words are useless, other than to vainly attempt to journal what I just experienced. This place is a little like Sedona, a little like the Four Corners mesa in Colorado, a little like Monument Valley, but we are at 13,000+ feet and there are no other people around, save for one local man walking alone on the dirt road, welcoming us, accepting coca leaves from Americo with a grateful smile.

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