Remembering Peace

    I sit on a rock on the side of a path looking down at Machu Picchu and the splendor takes my breath away.  It is late afternoon and the sun has set.  Long gray/black shadows begin to cover the sacred site.   Soon darkness will consume this treasure of the Inka, their mountain retreat, a place of respite, ceremony and mystery.  Then I see it; a man's face in the area between the temples and the residences.  I look over to Huayna Picchu, the peak that borders, and I look at the face I saw earlier there, and it just smiles.  I am seeing faces in the mountains, the landscapes; nature is alive.  I look again at the face in the grass; it is an opening into Pachamama, the earth.  I want to go inside but I do not; I think I need permission and it is just a little scary.  I will journey there later.  Anyway, the teacher is calling us to do something else.  Opportunity.

    I sit on a sofa, my eyes closed, listening to the drumming, letting it penetrate into my mind and body; so my spirit can be freed.  There is the shadowy face of Machu Picchu and slowly I enter the dark void of nothingness and drop.  My intent is to find peace.  I see an old man with short gray hair; gray skin, no clothes and I recognize him as a teacher.  I tell him my purpose for being there and he just smiles and nods and fades away.  I am standing facing a sheet of glass looking at trees, huge, dark, wet trees with every limb, branch, twig, holding a ribbon of pure white snow.  The contrast poignant; black vs. white.  The tree has become a vessel, a container to hold the snow; there is such beauty and I am overwhelmed by the presence of peace.  The glass dissolves.  Fulfillment.

     Remember peace, it resides inside of you.  Munay, Paul