My Call from the Mountain Spirits

A part of my work as a shaman is to reanimate the world around me. 

But what does this mean? 

My shamanic path is a animistic one, meaning that I believe, to a certain extent, (it depends on my level of consciousness at the time) that the world is organised by supernatural/spiritual/energetic beings. 

Places, plants, animals, even inanimate objects contain an essence that is conscious. 

These spirits can be communicated with and even implored to help you, be it for wisdom or a quality of power.

In my opinion, the most powerful and beautiful of those beings are the Apukuna. 

Apu means Lord or Mountain, they are the Spirit of the Mountains. 

For me they are colossal, both in size and presence, and yet they are as gentle as falling snow, and so quiet, you will doubt they are even there.

The stone people, stones, live in a different time and space to us human people. 

We are barely visible to them, we are born and die in such a flash that we are almost inconceivable to them. 

They are unaware of us until we interact with them. 

Maybe we pick them up, hold them, speak to them, or maybe we bring their heads together awakening their memory of fire, and then they will see us.

I am joined to the lineage of the Altomesayoc, and as such I can appeal and converse with the Apukuna. 

Stepping outside of time and space is a way of communicating with these most ancient and majestic beings. 

I recently acquired a set of seven chumpi stones. 

They are quite large compared to many I have seen and are made from meteorite. 

Each stone has a different amount of points, which relate to different sacred mountains, or Apukuna, and, among other things, are used to gift one of the nine rites of the Munay Ki, the Chumpi rites, or the Sacred Bands of Power. 

I decided to create a seven-day ceremony to attune each stone to a mountain. 

Each day I carried and held one of the stones while summoning the correlating Apukuna.

I took note of anything I noticed about me and my day. 

Then later that night I chanted 108 times the name of that mountain spirit summoning them to be joined to that stone. 

I then anointed it with my favourite oil, Nag Champa.

What did I notice? I hear you ask. 

They had messages to tell and wisdom to share, and I will tell you.

I must admit, I wasn’t sure what would come up. 

What did happen was a huge shift in my energyfield. 

Deep, powerful and long standing wounds that I have dealt with many times, including during my own experience on the medicine wheel, came up, and not only did they show me the true face of my wound, the Apukuna showed me exactly where the wounds came from. 

The answer shocked me to my core and brought up many long-buried memories. 

I still find it hard to believe this didn’t show up during the many healing sessions I have received. 

I now know what I need to heal; the journey continues.

The Yapanapukuna, the Sacred Mountains.

Apu Ausangate, humpuyai, hampui, bandeira, bandeira.

The Sacred Masculine, the divine source of water speaks; Stop, take the time to smell the flowers I offer to you. 

Take notice of the joy that ripples around you, play with our children, give them all you have at that moment, we all deserve tickles and cuddles. 

Drink plenty of my sacred waters, they are offered to you freely, let it nourish you. 

Opportunities are given, you need only ask, stand at the edge of the forest and ask for what you want, know that you will get what you want and more besides.

Apu Salcantay, humpuyai, hampui, bandeira, bandeira.

The Sacred Feminine, Wild woman speaks; Run! Like the wild horses, raw and natural.

Be just who you are, embrace all that you are, the good, the bad and downright dirty! 

See those sparks of life in all, and allow that spark of the wild to shine secretly to those who know it, and to those who do not, may you scare them with your wild beauty. 

Create a splash of chaos, if you wish, but it is far better to move silently through this world without creating a ripple, like wild geese on a lake of morn-light.

Apu Illimani, humpuyai, hampui, bandeira, bandeira.

The First Light speaks; The first light of Inti, our star, shone down upon the earth and cast the first shadows amongst the people of stone. 

Now the sacred light is at its brightest, and the shadows are at their darkest, yet we are living in the darkness. 

Be the light, trust in yourself, trust in your light. 

Notice and observe the nonviolence, notice the places where there is no arguing, no fighting, no swearing or screaming, be this. 

Know it is your choice to stop protesting and complaining, accept or be the change you would rather see. 

It feels good, doesn’t it? Look to the sun, and breathe.

Apu Huanakauri, humpuyai, hampui, bandeira, bandeira.

Coiling Serpent speaks; Know what is in your heart will be reflected in the world around you. 

Look in the streets, the media, your own life, see that it is truth. 

What can sometimes feel daunting is a lesson in connection, we are all connected. 

A fine thread connects us to the war and torment of another the other side of the world. 

Our reflections are us, we are our reflections, All is One. Know when to strike, and when to recoil to the safety of your inner landscape. 

Learn to power of No, and the beauty of Yes.

Apu Sacsayhuaman, humpuyai, hampui, bandeira, bandeira.

The Satisfied Falcon speaks; Be true to yourself, be honest. 

Allow the winds to blow through your mind, clearing space for you. 

Be in integrity, its ok to feel happy, give yourself permission to be satisfied. 

Know your truth, speak your truth, live your truth, it cannot lead you astray. 

Take a deep breath in and just Be.

Apu Huacawilka, humpuyai, hampui, bandeira, bandeira.

The Sacred Tears speaks; When you allow your tears to run, you allow the river within you to flow. All rivers nourish the soil around them, all rivers deposit their gifts. 

Nourish the soils of your heart, allow the rivers to flow, you will find the roots to your wounds and with it, the fragments of gold you have been waiting for.

Apu Machu Picchu, humpuyai, hampui, bandeira, bandeira.

The Wise Old Man, the Sage speaks; Listen to the young, their wisdom can sometimes surpass that of the old, both are invaluable. 

Listen to the children of our future, to the inner child within. 

You have within you all the answers you will ever need, and the questions that follow. 

Open up your heart and listen to the wisdom of the Divine, it is your Sacred voice that that speaks. 

Be the light in the darkness, be the goodness in the world, step into your authenticity.

These are the words of the Yapanapukuna, all the Sacred Mountains. 

A Hero's Call

They say that you can hear the call three times before you find the courage to answer it; a call to adventure, a call to destiny and life. Writer and storyteller Joseph Campbell said,

“A hero ventures forth from the world of common day, into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man.”

Well, I'm back! Anyone care for a boon?

My call was a call to parenthood, but that doesn't sound very extraordinary, being a gay man means I would need to make some tough decisions, and do something out of the ordinary, other than the usual ins-and-outs of life to produce a child (pun intended). When is anyone truly ready to be a parent? ‘When I have X amount of money in savings’ ‘Once I've seen the world’ ‘Once I’ve grown up’ Knowing I couldn't just ‘Fall pregnant’ meant that if I decide to have a child then the ball will start rolling….Ok…..deep breath….Yes! Call answered.

It just so happened that my partner Tom works for an adoption agency. The call felt like a silent bell going off in my heart. I felt like a spider tentatively stepping and sensing his way along a thin thread trying to grasp what was on the other end, the thread was my new path, a heart string had been pulled.

I was due to go on an advanced shamanic class, ‘Working with the Mythic’ with Chris Waters (www.spiritoftheinca.com) ‘Bring with you a fairy-tale that you feel connected too…’ I couldn't even think of any, so I called another shaman friend of mine, Charlotte Gush (www.shamanicway.co.uk) who was given the name ‘Rumpelstiltskin’ by Spirit, I listened. It was one of my favourites but I couldn’t see how it related to me. 

I arrived at misty hills of Avalon, The Glass Isles of Glastonbury, where the world reflects back to you. I sat in a group waiting to tell the tale I brought with me, the trees eagerly listening, I told the tale of Rumpelstiltskin from the place of ‘I’ - the I being the poor nameless girl who was trapped in the dungeon by the King, who demanded an impossible task of her; to spin straw into gold, a lie told by her father.

I could definitely feel the link; I was trapped in a dungeon like 9-5 life that was not authentic, and I had the impossible task of creating a family that was biologically not going to happen, in a Kingdom that was not all 100% happy with LGBT parents. But I couldn't fully connect with her, she wasn't my story.

We performed many tasks and beautiful ceremonies within the land of Glastonbury that week, re-enacting myths and legends, of Percival, the decent of Inanna. We visited Gwen App Nudd the lord of the underworld, and Cerridwen of the cauldron of transformation. Sat on the altar in our sanctuary was a beautiful statue of the horned lord, I longed to be connected to him, and for me his presence represented fatherhood in its purest form. His resplendent horns are the horns of passion, fierce love, protector and guardian, provider and teacher, all the things needed to be a father, I lost my horns a long time ago. Where was he in this story? We hadn't discussed him at all. Where are my horns?

There is a thorn tree in the Chalice Well Gardens, it is said that the tree grew from a sapling from another tree that grew on Wearyall Hill, and this particular tree grew from the staff of Joseph of Aramathea, Jesus’s Uncle, the staff was cut from the same thorn tree that Jesus's crown of thorns was made from. A small ceremony we have done many times before is walk under this tree in the Chalice Gardens, and comb our hair through its thorns and give back our own crown of thorns, we no longer need this guilt in the world. I was looking forward to visiting this ancient tree and as I approached, to my horror, it had gone. The year previously the even more ancient tree on Wearyall Hill had been vandalised beyond repair and died, a year later the tree in the Chalice Garden was struck by lightning and split in half. All that is there now is a fairy ring. I stood looking at this fairy ring and it dawned on me a story of the horned lord. I have heard that there once was a sacred garden, maybe the Garden of Eden? And in that garden stood an ancient tree, for some reason lightning struck it and it split in half, and out of its centre stepped the horned lord. Had he stepped out of this tree?

Once I was back at base camp at the Abbey House, I decided to tell my story from the place of ‘I’ but instead of the young girl I chose Rumpelstiltskin, after all it is his story, the only one with a name. Suddenly it all started to make sense. Rumpelstiltskin did the impossible, he spun old straw into gold, an impossible task a bit like creating a family with out a woman. He was promised a child, I held on to the hope that Toms agency would say yes to us. He had a secret name, a secret identity that is anyone found out would cause his demise, I am not an 'office worker' its not my name, I have a secret name, a secret identity, one that involves children, magic and mystery. He was betrayed and the promise of a child was taken away from him, and he tore himself in two with the pain and rage.

“What if this story came true?”

“It can’t, I would be devastated.”

“But what if this is exactly how things are supposed to be?”

“I feel like my life would be over, I would be in so much pain and rage I wouldn’t know what to do…”

That night we burnt our stories in a ceremonial fire. In the flaming remains of all the stuff I was working on that week I saw the image of a King. Also that night Tom went into a meeting to officially ask to start the adoption process with his agency. After the fire I ran through misty rain back indoors, put on kettle for a hot chocolate and checked my phone for a response from Tom. I called him after reading his text. We weren’t allowed due to employment boundaries, which is understandable, but still rage flared inside my heart. My head aching with the loss, the story came true, I went to bed heavy hearted.

Something was splitting, my head, my soul, my heart? One of my kuyas is a split stone, I call it ‘Emergence’ is this what is happening? It didn’t feel like it.

The next morning I had a powerful migraine, I stormed about the place swearing and punching walls in rage. I felt like I was splitting in half, I was Rumpelstiltskin tearing myself in half, I had to tell my story! Someone took the words out of my mouth, “Where is the fierce masculine in all of this? Where is the horned lord?” YES! Where the fuck is he?! So I told my story.

“Where do you feel this loss in your body?”

“Its in my head, and my heart, but mainly my head, I feel like I am about to split in half.”

“What would happen if you allowed yourself to split?”

My heart swam in relief, I could finally let go, I raised my hands to my head and slowly with grace tore myself in two, and it felt liberating! I felt peaceful, still in pain, but accepted pain.

“Can anyone else see his horns?” I heard someone say, ‘I’ stepped out of myself and there instead of the old me was a horned lord, a father, albeit a childless one. Little did I know that my son was being born just a few miles away.

I always knew he was on his way, I could feel him. Every time I journeyed to the upperworlds and visited with the children of the future there was always a particular little child, full of energy and big beautiful eyes who couldn't wait to see me, I presumed it was a piece of myself, but something told me otherwise. “I can’t wait to come down! It looks amazing!” he once said to me. A golden little boy.

One year later and I am sitting nervously on the floor of a foster carer’s house. Fear and excitement rumble within me, I think I'm going to be sick! I hear him in the kitchen making a right noise! “Do you want to meet him?” the foster carer asks. She calls his name and his tiny little face pokes around the corner looking sheepish and coy, he gingerly crawls towards us, my heart melts, I am in love! This is what munay felt like, sacred love. Our son was looking at us, my golden little boy! I pick him up and put him on my lap, I feel like I was anointed king! I am the victor of my hero’s journey, I am King of my Kingdom, I am the Horned Lord, I am Dadda, with a bag full of boons.