The Window, the Puma and the Gateway

The Window

Lisana-
Today Jeremy shall summit Apu Ventana, another mountain which anchors around our part of the sacred valley. It will be the masculine energy that makes this journey, Jeremy, Jay, Eduardo and young William. I will stay below while Jeremy makes the climb for the both of us. Tracking him I'm aware as he climbs, I stare to the mountain focusing on the ventana, a window portal, when instantly I feel Jeremy's connection assuming he is staring down at me. 
Before leaving this morning we charge the crystals including an aboriginal dream time that will be offerings as we always do with our clear intention.

Jeremy - 
Not being such a lengthy nor arduous journey as Apu Linli, we go light across town towards the meeting point with Eduardo and his 11 year old step son. Already prepared we gather our intentions and head straight for the initial slopes of the pyramid mountain. Taking the road that winds along the river east we chat acknowledging the beautiful day presented to us. It doesn't take long to realize our early morning hunger as we approach the steeper lower arid slopes that hold the last groupings of the eucalyptus trees. The trail not so easy to find at first becomes more obvious after scrambling for a few hundred meters over and around several rocky out crops. The huge agaves signal a trail that cuts diagonally across the north face of which we follow. Exposed and interrupted by several deep crevices created by severe water run off makes for a dramatic awareness of flash flood potential. The rugged pathway reaches far across to a ridge that stands above the lush sacred valley to the midway point of the mountain where a hole in the rock creates a window that is clearly seen from the town below, thus giving the name to the mountain. Being one of our destinations we willingly search for our crystals to offer to the natural phenomenon.
Each taking a turn to walk through the portal as we gather on the upward side of the ventana to gaze down through observing Pisac perfectly framed by the lesser eroded rock. I wonder if Lisana could sense the energy that we beamed through the lens of this portal. Eduardo the last of us to transition explains his feelings of having been in flight. With the crystal offerings in place we snack for awhile and then continue on. The trail becomes lesser traveled as we pick our way up the ever steepening slopes. We decide to follow Jay's suggestion in a moment of meditation, as he explains how to connect to the dream time as practiced by the aboriginals of Australia. We do this by gathering around a tiny white flower imagining that the light which illuminates it's petals reflect, entering our spirits through our eyes down our bodies into the earth and up through the tiny plant creating a cycle of luminescent understanding. Our continuing upward journey instantly becomes more in tune as each one of us falls in love and harmony with the surroundings and the precious fauna that we realize is accompanying us in each and every step.
Time becomes less significant and our approach to the summit becomes more fluid in grace. We notice above an older Incan man sitting upon what we believe is the summit, he greets us upon our approach. He seems really happy that we should make such an effort to join the two hawks that circle aloft. Jumping to his feet and reaching his hand forward with a delightful smile, we fully accept him as the guardian of this powerful mount. I am done questioning the way that spirit receives us. Our guardian offers his understanding of the energy that is held in this place, while digging into his cloth bundle of grass, obviously his work for the day. Producing an Andean flute he leads us to a higher promontory that offers a splendid view of the valleys that proceed upwards toward Kinsa Cocha, the sacred hanging lakes. He smiles genuinely and enthusiastically begins to play the flute, pointing his nose to the eluding peak that we still have to reserve breath to climb. He continues to play as we walk onward, I believe all of our hearts soared with the sound of the wind and the whistle. The hawks still circling as he heralds our ascent to the summit, finishing with a wave before returning to his bundle a short distance away. Short of breath we all make our final effort to the place where the crystals are laid and gaze upon the cloud clearing views of Mt. Sacantay, a crystalline snow capped pyramid. Following the guardians advice we continue down the other side of the mountain not to retrace our steps. 

Temple of the Puma

Lisana-
The week is unfolding to be another busy one as we are taken to Ollyantantambo by our three new friends, Patricia, Joy Hart and Stephanie. Just days ago we were in a conversation about Puma Marcha where the ancient ruins for the Puma sit and now we are in a taxi heading off for ceremony in the sacred temple.
Our three friends are quite supportive of our work recognizing our twin flame frequency and mission at hand. The hour drive did not feel to be an hour not for me, however since Jeremy had to sit hunched in the far back while listening to four women chatter in a frenzy may dispute the time. Patricia asks our taxi driver if he will take us up to the ruins and then stay to bring us back down. Agreeing to do so we all recognize our driver Jurro is here to assist us with the spirit of a warrior. The road winds up and around the mountain with many risks and challenges. We all hold our breath a few times as his car had to get over some large rocks in the road. The scrapping noise of the under carriage to the rough surface brings us concern, yet our driver pushes forward without falter.

Jeremy -
Arriving at the temple of the puma already allows us the sense of potency as the rocky ruins loom above us. It is not a steep slope but the structures seem to hold an energy of erstwhile importance. I notice Lisana is immediately breathing deeply, not because of the exertion but of the energy pulsing in the landscape. I tend to become a little on edge when I sense her in this way as I have knowing that this often indicates an enormous spiritual effort needed or the presence of hungry spirits not necessarily in alignment with ascension.
I try to impress upon her a need for coherence with me as she hazardously plots an illogical course of her own up the grassy slope. Have I become somewhat complacent in the task of leading the path for sure footedness or is there something misguiding her?
Allowing her the freedom to wander I question myself as to why I want her to follow me. After a few hundred feet we converge upon one particular large rock where I suggest we gather our intentions.
Easily done I watch Lisana scrupulously as she rocks back and forth finally resting her forehead on the stone unlike the rest of us. I know Lisana full in spirit and commitment to her work but something seems strange to me. She appears separate from the rest of us and oddly entranced. The group continues on to enter through a narrow gateway, I stall a little to match Lisana's pace inquiring if everything was well, not completely satisfied with her incomplete response I feel a need to insist upon our balance, she feels to me not present. The three other women disappear ahead of us into the complex of partially standing walls. The rain that was slight increases in intensity as we venture amongst the partially dismantled structures.
Swimming in the discomfort of not feeling connected to my partner and in full knowing that ceremony was impending I lower my critical observation of her and focus on the surroundings and energy within the complex. Quickly arriving to a place between several rectangular buildings that courted a magnificent natural rock emanating a powerful vibration. Almost immediately all participants arrive except one, Stephanie who had previously declared that her duty is often to hold parameter space. 
Lisana now panting exhaustedly with her rain coat half on and half off appears out of sorts and now my level of concern peaks forcing me to take action. Laying all of her possessions including her now discarded rain coat on the wet ground I decide that something is amiss. I feel to delay the opening of the ritual and encourage the four of us to drop along one side of the rock to a sheltered spot below where an olive tree grows from the crux of the fissure offering an ideal place for clearing and protection from the rain. Palo santo in hand I successfully ignite the resinous wooden splinter and with the upmost concentration pleading for all malignity to exit this important time and place. To my great relief and satisfaction the energy instantly aligns as I witness the incredibly sincere and divine clarity returning to Lisana's eyes. Completing the passage around the rock to the grassy space in front of one of the open chambers we lay our ceremonial cloth and crystals for the altar. The rain continues but softens in its onslaught as we ask for permission to enter. The chamber holds an enormous flat stone slab, Patricia leaps onto the edifice declaring that this is where the puma would lay as according to legend the puma and the people had lived together. A sudden realization came into her knowing that she (perhaps) was the puma in a past life. Shuddering with elation we glare at each other, this is the place for our offerings and love to be left. A hole between the earth and the pumas stone mat, an obvious depository for another one of our smokey dream time aboriginal quartz crystals. While standing in the center holding space I can feel the intensity of the energy flowing through the atmosphere.  Lisana, Patricia and I hold our hands to the heavens and the roofless sky, as Joy steps forward to complete the circle with such enigmatic expression throwing her hands upward embodying the role of a priestess in practice. A short while later we join Stephanie at the foot of the slopes of Puma Marcha.

               Mt. Veronica and the Gateway

Lisana-
Our third day in Ollyantatambo and it is time to visit the temple of the serpent, or so we think. As quite often we find that there is an impetus for action, however once our journey begins spirit will often guide us in another direction. It takes complete trust and faith to follow, not only spirit but the inalienable truth which cohere Jeremy and I in a most sacred way. Our relationship began with trust and throughout the year incessantly required us to match each others belief in one another, this day will be no different. We hop the collectivo (public transport van) in Ollyantatambo to head off to a small village called Phili, where we were advised to find the serpent temple. The bus ride is filled with moments of wonder as we almost always are the only non-Peruvian people. I can't help but to compare with any North American experience I can access, bringing me to such a humble view of a life I barely can remember. Everyone has the understanding to get on and off the bus quickly, even when they are carrying bundles of items or bambinos. Amazed with the level of acceptance as everyone always pays whether solicited or not. Sometimes the bus is so crowded that many will stand in the isle and somehow it just seems to work out.
I've watched the very young to the very old climb on the bus with ease and cooperation, truly an example of unity consciousness.


Jeremy-
I am In full agreement with Lisana's knowing that we need to trust each other on this journey. I have also become reliant on the messages during sleep. Dreaming has always intrigued me yet now I try to decipher, on awakening any messages and guidance that my dreams may purvey. This morning they are as clear to me as ever suggesting that we should consider the opposite from the obvious path that our minds would indicate. Communicating this to Lisana she readily accepts this as divine guidance so onward we tread with all options up for consideration. 
The bus to Phili, crowded and packed with locals forges us into the unknowing as the driver assures we are at our destination. While not yet having arrived at any distinct village we disembark and amble further up the road to a small gathering of buildings to inquire of the Incan ruins close by. We are met with smiles but shaking heads, a few phone calls are made by the impoverished locals all seeming to have cell phones. Providing absolute confirmation that the serpent temple is no where in the vicinity. One lady points vaguely down into the valley below, feeling this is the moment to remember my dreams we decide to follow the opposite direction. After about a mile or so winding up the ever increasing gradient a farmer solutes us. He suggests that the only ruins of any kind are many miles above us on the pass from the sacred valley to the rain forest, Penas, the village of the ghosts. He promptly points to an on coming bus, which we flag down. Somewhat reluctant the bus comes to a halt. Allowing for us to enter the conductor explains that Penas is a long way from anywhere and the furrow on his brow suggests that we have no idea where we are going. A deal is made as to the tariff as the bus lurches forward in a desire to recoup it's momentum for the upward journey of many hairpin bends. After about fifteen miles the bus swings to the side of the road and evicts us without a moments hesitation. The elevation is both appropriate and unexpected for our inappropriate dress. The ruins clearly visible from the road are a delight for us, affirming our efforts. Sitting between two mountain slopes with water falls plummeting in symmetrical opposition. The one to our left of the road dives from a notch in a v shaped opening in the hillside, a veil of clouds hide something behind. Assuring ourselves that this is where we are meant to be we proceed through a rustic gateway off the road down towards the ruins and the colossal sound of a river that rages below the site. A tricky descent but not too far allows us a short passage to the heart of this rugged valley. An enormous rock that appears to be unnaturally flat on top indicates an intentional ceremonial locale. I climb up offering a hand to Lisana as she exhibits enthusiastic attunement, unravelling our sacred possessions without hesitation the ceremony begins. First with burning offerings then with toning and deep meditation.
As we conclude our brief consultation with the spirit on high, we become aware that above the waterfall now to our right as we look down the steep valley the clouds have cleared to reveal the needle peaks and conical summit of Mt Veronica. Our hearts leap in unison at such an incredible sight just in time for the veil to close again. Our glances dash to each other as the rain suddenly splashes upon the rock on which we sit, time to give our offerings and skidaddle which we do with the upmost haste. Only wearing light clothing we hustle to the road where we stand in the downpour watching two kara kara birds sweep the energy from above the ruins walls and fly down toward the sacred valley.