Machu Picchu, Cusco, Perú
It’s hard to pinpoint when or why I started to dream of visiting Peru. But I do remember talking about going to Machu Picchu with my Dad, having no idea why this place was so significant – but something in me said – GO. When my Dad passed away suddenly from pneumonia in February 2011, I found myself announcing in his eulogy that I would hike Machu Picchu in his honor that summer. At the time I was 25 and 2 weeks old, and I had returned frantically to the US during his sudden illness, leaving my whole life in Spain behind: my partner, my work and my Masters program. Life just stopped for me and after an emotional goodbye, I settled down to embrace the grief in his last hometown of Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania while sorting out his final affairs.
Richard Narvaez on the Appalachian Trail, 2009
When I made the grand gesture of my Peruvian journey at the podium of a Catholic Church, I had absolutely no connection to Peru. Except for two things: the memory of conversations with my Dad and the random 3 or 4 times removed cousin who showed up at my Dad’s deathbed, after briefly returning to the US from the Peruvian Amazon. That time was such a blur and my family is so dismembered that I can barely even remember her name. But it was her face that I first looked to when my Dad’s heart rate began to slow, and there she was, a stranger that shared some traces of blood, drawing the energy of Peru into my life, as the breath of my father slipped away.
Over the course of six months, life did it’s thing of arranging the puzzle pieces. I kept myself busy and moving towards the good; I rode my Dad’s bike across America and then two weeks later, boarded a plane to Peru, to partake in an internship for my Masters in Economic Development.
For the first time in my life, my Dad wasn’t there dropping me off at the airport, tears on his face, camera in hand, waiting until he caught the last sight of me as I passed through security. In fact my family was so broken at that point that my best friend’s mother saw me off.
Like most travelers, I live for the thrill of flying in a tin can and walking off hours later in a foreign land, realizing that I know absolutely no one for miles around. Maybe even across the entire continent. Wow, that openness, that freedom, that space, that unknown - to me, that is the richness of possibility and the most divine kind of excitement in life.
The first time I went to Spain in high school in 2001, my Dad had written me a short note on index cards, one for every day of my journey. He wrote often about the moon and the stars, and how looking up at the night sky would be our special way to share something each day. On that trip to Spain, I began to play a little game. I would shoot my thoughts and love up into the sky, as high as I could imagine they could go, and then I would propel them west to a point in the sky just above my Dad’s head, and then I would watch them float down into his heart – and imagine, that just maybe, in that moment, he would feel just how much I missed him.
During my first day in Cusco, I lost my breath frequently, and my lungs were struggling to navigate the new relationship with this crispy, fresh, mountain flavored air that seemed to hug me close. Close like a bear hug, pressing in on me, pushing the button inside of me that sang out – “you can only send your love up. Up and up and up to that place we refer to as heaven. He’s not here on this plane anymore.”
My first four months in Cusco were life changing and also the real kick-start into my dark night of the soul. I learned Reiki to understand energy and what happens after you die; I did my first yoga teacher training, because after watching my Dad pass on, I had a new profound intrigue and curiosity about our physical and subtle bodies; I learned to practice meditation and I sat in my first Ayahuasca ceremony. But I was also robbed by a friend, had my fair bout of sickness, felt depressed, alone, angry and sad and had quite possible the worst judgment when it came to dating.
When I left Cusco in December to begin my journey back to Spain, I thought to myself, “well, I will NEVER, EVER, EVER return to Cusco. That was enough for me.”
Two days after I landed in Spain in February 2012, just days before my father’s anniversary, I received an email that went a little something like this:“You got the job. But not in Panama. The World Food Programme wants you in Lima, Perú.”
Probably the last place on Earth besides Cusco that I wanted to return to was Lima. Grey skies, chaotic, loud, traffic, and car horns. Luckily, Lima had it’s own beautiful and unique relationship with the Pacific, which I made sure to soak in nearly every day.
Lima ended up being great, but long story short, the Apus (mountains) wanted me back. There was work to be done, projects to be created, and a whole lot of growth in store for me there. I moved to Lima in September 2012 and less than a year later I was drawn back to Cusco, this time for a long, foreseeable future. What I felt at the time was this: I didn’t know why I was in Cusco, but I couldn’t leave, and there was nowhere else in the world that I wanted to be. This vortex of the world was my home.
Templo de la Luna, Sachsayhuaman, Cusco, Perú
I share moments of my Peru story because many of you may be considering, investigating and questioning why you feel called to join us on the Sacred Elements Journey to Peru in November 2019. For many years I dreamed of organizing a retreat to Peru for people who had just lost a loved one, as I met so many people during my time in Cusco who came there to do just that - grieve, release, open and reconnect to unconditional love. However, for this first special trip home, I envision a beautiful group coming together, united by all of our reasons, all of our callings and all of the discoveries that are waiting to be made once surrounded by the Apus, held by Pachamama and looked over by the crispy blue Andean sky.
It’s easy for me to look back now and connect the dots; and while I thought that I was taking the action steps to get to Peru, Spirit was really doing most of the work. My co-host Brittany and I have been talking about how our Sacred Elements Journey to Peru group already exists, we’re all already there in some form or another. In the coming days and weeks, our group will continue to form and grow, maybe because the dots line up or because a surge of inspiration comes along that can no longer be ignored. I guess what I’d like to end with is this; you might not know exactly why you feel called to Peru, there may be intimidating aspects of the journey, but if you feel that inkling, if you feel curious - close your eyes and ask the Apus. “Is it my time to explore the wisdom of your roots and inspiration of your peaks?”
Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I look forward to sharing more about my life in Peru.
Please email me at kat@kintuwellness.com if you have any questions about our Sacred Elements Journey to Peru.
Love,
Kat