Apu Do You Think You Are

I should have twigged on the flight out here upon discovering that I’d been seated next to the world’s most flatulent man that this trip was going to be somewhat overpowering. But as uncomfortable as those 13 long and smelly hours were, they in no way compare to the agonizing experiences I’ve endured since I landed 6 days ago.

Not that I’m complaining. I’m not doing this for shits and giggles. That said, had I known just how much ‘work’ this was all going to entail, I undoubtedly would have opted for a fortnight in Spain instead.

I am currently in Urubamba, in the Sacred Valley of the Incas. A mystical place that is nestled between the bucolic foothills and snowy peaks of the Andean mountains…or Apus as the folks here call them. I don’t really have the words to convey the beauty of this place. It is quite simply breathtaking.

I’m here with a mixed group of people who, like me, are searching for some perspective on the challenges that life has thrown at them. Under the guidance of a great Peruvian Shaman called Ruben and his American colleague Michelle, who together run a retreat called Shamanic Space, my cohorts and I are being gradually exposed to the wisdom and medicine of the ancients.

So far, we’ve undergone a succession of ceremonies, involving plant medicines, sound healings, crystals, inner journeying and in my case, a significant amount of spewing, shitting and crying.

The opening gambit was a shamanic offering, held by three fifth generation Inca ‘curanderos’ who came to bestow a sacred blessing on everyone in our circle. It was a profound and insightful experience.

Well, it was for everyone that is, but me…

Esther, a girl I feel a particularly close connection to was given the blessing of the senora – the mother, which considering she’d only discovered she was pregnant a few days ago, couldn’t have been more pertinent. Paul, a somewhat reserved and introspective chap was awarded the blessing of wisdom and told that he had the potential to be a healer.

Yet somehow all they managed to conjure up for me was some half-arsed blessing of the Apu. A mountain.

Naturally, I was devastated.

I mean, what the hell was I meant to do with a fucking Apu?

Swallowing the urge to shout, scream and generally kick-off, I decided to see what the next ceremony would bring. This one was going to be huge. It involved the drinking of a cactus concoction called San Pedro, which is meant to elicit huge breakthroughs.

But no.

All it brought me was a full-blown, full-body breakdown. I spent the whole session crying. The only discovery I made was that I was a total and utter mess.

All the shit I thought I’d dealt with over the last decade or so had come back to haunt me…The traumas of my early childhood...The collapse of my marriage…The assorted belly-flops that have punctuated my somewhat checkered career. And the heartbreak of last year’s tumour. This parade of fuck-ups high-kicked and waved jazz hands at me for three solid hours. This was my medicine. And it was one mother-fucking bitch slap.

I left the circle feeling empty, lonely and overwhelmingly nauseous. My search for answers had been reduced to yet another epic fail.

I wanted to get the first plane home.

Instead, Ruben sent me to bed with a large black rock of meteorite and a jar of sacred lagoon water. Apparently, this was going to help me to release my blockages.

I was beginning to think this whole thing was a gargantuan mistake. But I followed his instructions anyway.

That night I sobbed harder than I’ve ever sobbed in my life…and projectile ‘released’ from every orifice. I went to bed with that big ball of rock resting on my chest and the lagoon water by my side. And you know what? It was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years. When I awoke the following day, I felt considerably lighter. Something had definitely cleared.

Finally, I was getting somewhere. Or so I thought…

The following few days were wonderful. We set off for the Crystal City of Machu Pichu and had the privilege of seeing parts of that site that few tourists get to see. The place was virtually deserted and the appearance of a double rainbow made the whole experience even more magical. We completed the trip with a sound healing from a local man who had gathered all the sacred sounds from cultures around the world, delivering a complete assault on the senses.

When we returned to our retreat in Urubamba for the second of our San Pedro ceremonies, I felt fortified. As I knocked back that cup of bitter liquid, I had a sense of purpose. I was ready for whatever the plant had to throw at me – all I asked was that ‘he’ would give me the guidance I was looking for.

Instead, I fell asleep.

As this leg of my journey draws to an end, I can’t say I’ve unearthed any answers. I feel abandoned and lonely. Exhausted and empty. I’m more confused than ever and I have absolutely no idea who I am anymore.

But we’re heading to the jungle next where I will be introduced to another healing plant – Ayahuasca. She’s known as ‘The Mother’ and I hope she’ll be the one to nurture my spirit, bring me some clarity and ultimately put me back on my path.