I have been waiting for days to hit “Publish” on this blog post. Thankfully, about an hour ago Joe Biden and Kamala Harris were declared the winners in the U.S. presidential election. The mayor of Paris expressed my feelings exactly: “Welcome Back, America!”

At the risk of stretching a metaphor too far, this blog post speculates about one perception of the new administration in the United States. Is it too much of a leap to think the election our new President and Vice President could signal a national pachakuti, even a Taripy Pacha, for the United States?

We are living in the time of the Andean prophecy of the rise of a new humanity, the Runakay Mosoq. A time when all the children of God will share their gifts. The Andeans gift to the world is munay, love as a choice, love under our will. The indigenous peoples of the world and the “blue collar” workers of contemporary society teach us llank’ay, action and doing, work and productivity. What are so often disparagingly called the “elites” of the world, usually those white-collar and highly educated people, can share their yachay, or knowledge. Those characterizations are not meant to be stereotypes, but rather as a possible way to look at the weighting of how the three human powers are distributed across contemporary social groups. The bottom line is that when we share these gifts and use all of them ourselves, we move toward becoming complete human beings: people who are skilled at using and sharing all three of their human powers: munay, llank’ay and yachay. This is what the Taripay Pacha is all about: meeting ourselves again, only this time as more fully developed human beings.

During a pachakuti—which can be translated as a great overturning or energetic reorganization, a period of momentous transformation—we have the opportunity (there is no guarantee) of consciously evolving as individuals and societies. The questions that arise are: Can we in the U.S. capitalize on what may be a Taripay Pacha, an age of meeting ourselves again, or a time of potential reformation, reconciliation, advancement, even healing? Can we see the razor-thin election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris as such as opportunity to right a country that has tilted badly askew from its founding values (some might say, a country that experienced temporary insanity) and that might once again be a model for the world of rule by the people, for the people, and of the people?

The points I am about to make are not about policies or politics. They are about energetics. About potentiality. About a new start, a  new attitude, a reality check about what has been and a vision for what might be. I invite you to check your doubts or skepticism at the door and come with me on a short journey to the frontier of possibility.

Part of the Andean prophecy is the rise of a new Inka and Qoya: a ruling yanantin of a male and female who can serve as national role models and rule for the good of all the people. (A yanantin is the energetic interplay of two different but complementary energies.) For the first time in American history we have a leadership team of a man and a woman. We have a yanantin as our rulers. This is no small or inconsequential achievement for the American people. It is revolutionary.

And this ruling couple, if you will our own Inka and Qoya, represents not just one yanantin, but many. We have a yanantin of ethnicity at the top of our government: a white man and a mixed race woman (Black and East Asian/Indian). We have two generations (an elder and a middle-ager) from opposite coasts (East and West coasts). We have a Qoya in a mixed race and mixed religious marriage (Christian/Hindu and Jewish). This pair as rulers represent many fourth-level qualities, as the fourth level of consciousness and power is one in which the operative energy dynamics are those of connection, inclusion, bridge-building, acceptance of differences, and the welcoming of diversity. As president-elect Biden has said so many times: He seeks not to be the leader of blue states or red states, but the representative of the United States. He calls for seeing those who did not support him or are of an opposing political party or persuasion not as enemies but as opponents, and even as potential allies. Some call him and his calls for unity and cooperation—and those like me who applaud such values—naive. I call it fourth-level speech and behavior.

Such qualities are frightening to those still at the third level of consciousness, which in its heavy aspect is the dynamic of duality: right-wrong, us-them, ally-enemy, Democrat-Republican, and all the other divisive labels that have driven our politics and ethics for the last four years, although, truthfully, this has been the growing ethos of the United States and its politics for at least the last decade.

Trump displayed the unhealthiest characteristics of the third level. This characterization has nothing to do with his policies and everything to do with his personality and character as a man: bully, blamer, complainer, victim, paranoid conspiracy theorist, isolationist, confabulist and even liar, transactional, materialist, divider, angry, narcissistic, tribal, and the like. As I said, at his best Joe Biden displays fourth-level tendencies, although time will tell if he lives up to his rhetoric: alliance-building, empathy, kindness, consensus seeker, collaborator, inclusive, tolerant, and so on. This is a sea-change in the quality of the energetics at the top of the political hierarchy here in the United States. But Biden has no mandate. Although he won the popular vote, his electoral college victory looks like it will be achieved by a thin margin (all the votes still are not counted). Biden will be dealing not only with a divided populace but a divided government.

Still, we can’t overlook how momentous it is that we have elected our own version of an Inka and Qoya—meaning rulers, but not enlightened rulers (that remains to be seen). Let me take another leap: Looking through our three uppermost ñawis at the three human powers, we will see that metaphysically, looking through the qanchis ñawis (seventh eye), this potential for transformation is happening in 2020, which numerologically adds up to the number 4, the tawantin or symbol of wholeness, harmony, and completeness. (And Bidden was declared winner on 11/7/2020, which numerologically also adds up to 4; there’s that tawantin reference again). More realistically, looking through the paña ñawi (the  right eye of rationality) and lloq’e ñawi (left eye of practicality) at our three human powers, which in the prophecy must be developed and used together, the path forward toward the energy of tawantin appears difficult. The US population of voters expressed their llank’ay, their action, like never before. There was an historic number of votes cast in this election. But our yachay, or that of so many of the electorate, and munay are sorely lacking and underdeveloped. We have divided into factions and too many of us have bought into ridiculous and unfounded conspiracy theories of voter fraud and corruption of the election. It goes without saying that munay also is sorely lacking in huge swaths of our populace.

Donald Trump, the greatest threat in recent American history to our nation’s democratic values and to the checks and balances of our institutions of government may be gone soon, but division looms large: vast income inequalities, a reckoning for systemic racism, the resistance of global-warming deniers, a seemingly intractable political tribalism, and on and on. These divisions demonstrate just how far we have to go not only in national healing but to achieving any measure of national unity. A pachakuti, a cosmic transmutation, provides only the potential for change. Nothing is a given. Which is why paqos in the United States, and around the world, can help energetically support the positive potential of the United States by committing to practicing hucha miqhuy on the poq’po of the nation and its citizens over the long term. We have a lot of hucha to release.

Hucha miqhuy not only releases hucha, it increases strength and power, and fosters the potential for evolution. My teacher, don Juan Nuñez del Prado, has said: Hucha miqkuy “propels the process of evolution of everything. One of the ways Mother Earth propels the process of evolution is to accept your [or all human beings’] heavy energy and transform it into the light energy. She recycles the energetic remainders of the actions of humans, our hucha. She transforms human weakness into human virtue. We feed her. But if you use that power yourself, the power of hucha miqhuy, you are a co-creator with her. You become a recycler of heaviness, which is the factor that insulates human beings. It’s the factor that prevents the possibility of really creating something new and beautiful.”

Performing hucha miqhuy will help us take advantage of this election result, this return to sanity and opportunity for reconciliation and growth. (Thank you to those outside the U.S. who decide to do this for us). Obviously, what happens is up to us, and up to our elected leaders in the three branches of government (most importantly the Congress). We get to decide what this opportunity births, if anything. Where we go from here is at least partially under our will. If we develop our three human powers, then we will give this administration a chance to succeed. In my eternal optimism, I think if we see this change as a Taripay Pacha—the rise for the first time in our history of our own Inka and Qoya as leaders of our country—we can contribute as fourth-level citizens. It’s just a thought, maybe even a challenge I am of putting out there for consideration by other Americans. Who do you want to be? What do you want the character of our country to be? How do you envision our national future? And, most importantly, how will you either detract from or contribute to this possible Taripay Pacha?

I was asked recently about forgiveness, both forgiveness of others and of the self. What might the Andean mystical tradition say about that? I had never thought about this topic before in relation to the tradition, and I had never received a teaching from a paqo about it. But as I contemplated this question, I came to see a possible Andean mystical approach to forgiveness.  

Of course, we start with our energy practices. Our core practice is saminchakuy: working on the self to release any hucha, including the heaviness of feeling betrayed, wronged, hurt, rejected, or whatever emotion you carry about the situation that has caused you to discern the need for forgiveness. No matter how culpable the other person may be, as paqos we always start with ourselves. So you would seek to master your own energy body and diffuse the heaviness of your own emotions.

Another go-to practice is hucha miqhuy. This is the deep cleaning not only of your own hucha, but of the relational hucha you are feeling between yourself and the other person. You can clean that person’s poq’po using hucha miqhuy, but I see the power of hucha miqhuy more about relational energy—the flow of energy between yourself and the other—so you would focus on digesting the flow going from yourself to the other: the hurt, disruption, shutting down or cutting off in your ayni flow with the other. It is your own perception of the relationship that is imprinted in this betwixt and between energy, so take responsibility for it by cleansing it of its heaviness.

Understanding is always a plus, so there is a place for the analytic, especially since contemplation and understanding can help shift your emotions. They can help transform how you are looking at the situation and your expectations of what needs to happen for you to either feel forgiven or to sincerely forgive someone else.

First, focus on the ayni. Although you can only take responsibility for your half of the relationship, by keeping your focus on ayni you will come to realize that forgiveness is not chhalay: it is not transactional. It is not so much about you and the other as it is about yourself, especially if you are being transactional. If you have expectations of what must happen—a tit for tat—before forgiveness occurs, then you are restricting the possibilities of what can occur. You might be keeping these possibilities limited and small. As so many psychologists tell us, forgiveness is not dependent on atonement by the person whom you feel has harmed you. It’s not even about that person making amends. No matter how wronged you feel, you are not judge and jury in relation to the other person. Well, perhaps you are if you are operating only at the level of the material world. But in terms of the spiritual or metaphysical realms, forgiveness is a change in yourself, not any kind of compensatory action by the other person. Why is this so? Because, according to so many philosophers, forgiveness is an act of grace—for the self and the other. Grace is not something that is earned or deserved. It is not something you bestow on the other, some kind of absolution. It is a state of being you cultivate within yourself that creates space for release and completion. It is a choice about your preference for the condition of your own inner landscape. Grace is the condition through which you will discover your own power of munay: that your love—or forgiveness—is an energy subject to your will.

By cultivating your munay, you will be able to move to the inner state of being that is forgiveness as defined by so many modern health experts and ancient widsom-keepers: “Forgiveness is a conscious, deliberate decision to release feelings of resentment or vengeance toward a person or group who has harmed you, regardless of whether they actually deserve your forgiveness.” So forgiveness starts with making a choice. But you can’t fool yourself. You cannot pretend, through actions or words, that you have forgiven when you are really still harboring resentment. Qaway is the capacity to see reality as it really is. The reality may be that you have not yet reached the point of genuine forgiveness. No problem. Use your tools to continue working on your energy, because it’s healthier at all levels to keep your heaviness conscious and work on it then to drive it underground or hide it from yourself.

Forgiveness also is the restoration of a sense of inner peace. You can’t change the past, and surely not the reality of the pain that caused you to reject the other person or be rejected by him or her, but the universe provides you a clean slate in every moment. The word forgiveness means “to give,” not “to get.” It is something you give yourself. Like munay, it is a choice. Although reaching a state of genuine forgiveness may take time, you only have to practice in this moment, and the next moment, and the one after that. In your progression, you likely will experience a lessening of emotional intensity and a gradual lifting of heaviness. You may move from loathing to resentment, then to regret, and to disappointment, and to sadness. Eventually you may feel an acceptance of the reality of the situation that is stripped of the cloak of emotion: what happened happened.

Every small step, every slight shift in your energy will eventually result in the release of your heaviness and the restoration of your equilibrium. As Confucius said, “To be wronged is nothing, unless you continue to remember it.” You may always have the memory, but you can—through your energy work and conscious choice-making—reframe that memory. By doing both, you deflate the heavy power of the memory of the past wrong and re-inflate it with life-affirming sami. Sami, among its many meanings, refers to the essence of a thing. Feeling wronged and holding a grudge restricts your energy and dims your essence. Forgiveness opens you back up, allowing your full essence to flow freely again.

Because I teach the Andean tradition, I get a lot of questions from students. Perhaps you may have some of the same queries. So today my blog post will reproduce come recent questions and my answers. I offer my understanding of the tradition as passed on through my training with my primary teacher, don Juan Nuñez del Prado, and his son, don Ivan, who has also been an important mentor to me. My answers, of course, also reflect my own thinking about the tradition and reasoning about its practices, meanings, and applications.

 What are the distinctions between kawsay, sami, and hucha?

Kawsay means “life” and it is the foundational, animating energy of creation. It is the “living” energy. Truthfully, we don’t know what it actually is. It is beyond human conception, just as ki, chi, and prana are at heart inexplicable. Whatever First Cause is (God, or whatever you want to call Original Consciousness), it expresses itself as kawsay. Kawsay, then, can be thought of as the animating expression of Creator. Kawsay is the essence of everything, so that everything, both natural or manmade, is infused to some degree or another with beingness, even with a measure of consciousness.

From the kawsay pacha (the immaterial realm of Creator, which is beyond all imagining, beyond space-time and dimensionality) comes the Pachamama, the Mother of Space-Time, which is the material, physical world. Kawsay is the living energy, and the most refined form of kawsay is called sami. It’s ancient name is llanthu kawsay, or light living energy. Sami is light not as in visible light but in terms of quality: as lightness, refinement, the finest vibration of living energy. So it imparts a lightness of being. The distinction here is: kawsay is living energy; sami is light living energy.

Everything in the material world is made of sami, including human beings, and we want to be as full of sami as we can be. Sami confers well-being at every level of our existence: physical, emotional, mental, spiritual, in the condition of our bodies and of our lives.

Everything in the material world absorbs and radiates sami. Everything, we can say, is in perfect ayni, or reciprocity—except for human beings. Because of our complexity, especially that of our thoughts and emotions—which can be a wild rush of conflicting energies and impulses, confused and even hidden from our conscious minds—we can slow down or block sami from flowing through us. Hucha is this “denied” life-force energy, some of which becomes stuck on the surface of our energy field or inside us. The Andean paqos have a name for this slowed or blocked sami: hucha. It’s ancient name is llasaq kawsay, literally heavy living energy. Hucha is not negative, bad, harmful, or dangerous. It is only slow sami. It is sami that has lost some of its transformative power. So it feels heavy to us. If too much accumulates on the surface of our energy field or within us it can make our lives feel heavy because it reduces our overall well-being.

Do we work with the elements of nature, such as sun, water, fire, air?

Not really, although technically you can work with any energy and every energy, including elements such as wind and sun. This question mostly comes up in relation to the ñawis, the mystical eyes, because each of the four lower mystical eyes are associated with a spirit being. The association is as follows :

Siki ñawi, eye of the root—Mama Unu, Mother of the Waters (rain)

Qosqo ñawi, eye of the belly—Mama Allpa, Mother Earth

Sonqo ñawi, eye of the heart—Tayta Inti, Father Sun

Kunka ñawi, eye of the neck—Tayta Wayra, Father Wind

These are universal spirit beings, because every human being across the globe is touched by them. So they are known by and available to everyone. You are working with these spirit beings, not with their physical elemental manifestation of water/rain, soil/natural world, light/ heat, air pressure/air movement. You work with them just as you would any other spirit being, such as an apu (spirit being who lives in a mountain), by developing a personal relationship with them. Their natures differ, and you can learn from their unique powers. Father Wind is flexible, changing, moving. Father Sun is illuminating, revealing, enlightening. Mother Earth provides everything to us. She is fecund, productive, empowering, strengthening, stabilizing.  Mother Water is refreshing and revitalizing, cleansing and transformative.

There are other spirit beings that are not universal, but more localized in nature. These include the mukis, gnome-like beings; anchanchus, nature beings of the lakes and caves; sachamama, amaru (anaconda/snake) of the forests; phausi runa, playful spirits of waterfalls and water cascades,  and so on. As you can see, in the Andean tradition we work not with elements but the spirit beings themselves, and they can mentor, counsel, and guide us, imparting to us some of their own qualities.

Is the tradition Q’ero?

Only partly. This is the Andean mystical tradition, meaning common to those  groups who live in the south-central Andes. Historically, the Q’ero have been highly respected throughout the region as the finest paqos. However, the tradition as passed down through don Juan Nuñez del Prado is comprised of the knowledge of two lineages. Only part of the training was passed on to him specifically from the Q’ero Wachu (Inkari lineage) through the late don Andres Espinosa; the other aspects of the training are from the Cuzco Wachu (Waskar lineage) through the late masters don Benito Qoriwaman and don Melchor Desa. So unless you are working exclusively with the Q’ero, it is more accurate to call our work and practices Andean to honor all the paqos of other nations/groups of the region who have shared the tradition with us.

Is a layqa a light being?

That’s not the meaning today, and hasn’t been the meaning for hundreds of years. There may have been a time far back in the reaches of Andean mystical history when a layqa simply meant a paqo. (This word is also commonly spelled laika and laeqa.) But at least since the time of the Spanish Conquest, it refers to paqos who have lost their way along the path and so practice without ayni or to others who are using their power in self-interested ways for their own ends rather than with the good of all in mind. In the anthropological literature the term layqa is used by everyday Andeans (who are not paqos) to mean sorcerer or witch. Just about every online translator of Quechua and most Quechua dictionaries define a layqa the same way: as a sorcerer or witch. So if you use the term today, you would be wise to use it in its contemporary, commonly accepted meaning or else you will be misunderstood. If a paqo today was called a layqa, he or she would likely be insulted or shocked!

Do the paqos work with Star Beings?

I cannot say with certainty that they don’t, but from all the conversations I have been part of (through translation) with many different paqos (mostly Q’ero) over the last two decades, I have never met a paqo who claimed there were “star beings” as that term is commonly defined. In fact, in one conversation in which they were really pressed, the Q’ero simply looked mystified when asked about this. They insisted they do not work with “star beings” and did not seem to even understand the questions they were being asked about this topic.

They describe working with stars in two primary ways. First they may identify a particular star that they feel they are especially connected to. It is their “guiding star” but they see it not not so much as a spirit being but as the doorway or portal through which they came to earth and through which they will return to the hanaqpacha (upper world, God) upon death. Otherwise, they use the stars and constellations as calendars, to know when to plant and when to harvest, to take care of their herds in their various life cycles, and to mark the time for both sacred and common festivities and celebrations.

Remember, though, that everything is a “being.” A star is a chask’a, a planet a qoyllur, the night is Mama Tuta, and all can be considered beings because everything in nature is infused with kawsay, the animating energy. And, of course, there may be paqos beyond the Q’ero of the last generation, which is the generation I mostly worked with and who are mostly deceased now, who do believe in and work with “star beings” (as that term is currently understood in popular culture).

In terms of time, is the hanaqpacha (upper world) related to the future and the ukhupacha (lower or inner world) with the past?

No, the associations are exactly opposite! The hanaqpacha is associated with the past, and the ukhupacha is related to the future. There is much to know from the cultural landscape of the Andeas to fully explain this. But the short answer is that the upper world, hanaqpacha, is more closely aligned with the kawsay pacha, the eternal realm beyond time and space. It always was, is now, and always will be. Its qualities, according to anthropologists who have recorded local Andeans describing the hanaqpacha, include permanence, order, stability, persistence (as in the duration of time), and perfection. According to the mystical tradition, it is the upper portion of the Pachamama, the abode in which dwell those beings who practice perfect ayni, who are enlightened. For all these reasons, it is associated with the past, with the First Cause of creation that continues to unfold without end.

The ukhupacha is the realm of those who did not practice ayni well while alive. They are in a place of regeneration, where they can learn and grow as beings (including human beings) and transform themselves. Some anthropologists cite Andean people as describing the ukhupacha as a place of change, creation, and fertility. It is place of “becoming,” of evolving the self. Thus it is associated with process and potentiality and, hence, with the future.

I have not gone into detail in these answers, but I trust this Q & A session helped you brush up on concepts of the tradition you already knew but may have forgotten or not fully understood, and that you learned a thing or two new. If you have questions you would like me address, please email me at QentiWasi@gmail.com or JoanParisiWilcox@gmail.com.

The highest energetic relationship in our Andean cosmosvision is the tawantin, four factors united in harmony and wholeness. In Andean energy dynamics, the tawantin plays out in many ways.

The chakana—Andean cross—is the core graphical representation of the Andean tawantin. But we have tawantins within us as well. Our three human powers—munay, or love under our will; yachay, or knowledge and thoughts; and llank’ay, or action—are a tawantin because llank’ay can be broken down into two factors: khuyay, or passion; and atiy, or measuring your personal power in the moment, discerning proper timing for action, and bringing your impulses under your will. So our three human powers are actually four—they form an inner tawantin.

If you have had the chunpis (belts of power) woven, you will know that there are four of them: the yana chunpi, or black belt at the trunk/root of the body; the puka chunpi around the belly area; the qori chunpi at the chest, and the qolqe chunpi at the neck. Their primary purpose is to connect into an integrated system the four main ñawis, of which there is one in each of the chunpis: the siki ñawi in the black belt, the qosqo ñawi in the red belt, the sonqo ñawi at the gold belt, and the kunka ñawi at the silver belt. After you connect these up into a tawantin, you link these to the three upper ñawis: the two physical eyes and the seventh eye (qanchis ñawi). You have then created a holistic, harmonious wholeness within your metaphysical body.

Your Andean energy work provides ways to dynamically create all kinds of tawantins, from a despacho to dynamically moving and tuning energy to the level of tawantin energy. And we find other tawantins in our relationship to our human form. Our birth into the physical as humans is a result of the merging of or connection to two major tawantins. The first is that we have four parents: our human mother and father, and our Cosmic Father and Mother Earth. Second, we have our human mother and father, and then we are claimed by two nature spirits who become life-long guides: our Itu (male nature spirit being) and Paqarina (female nature spirit being).

Tawantins not only are an integral part of our Andean energy work but also suffuse physical nature and human nature at the most fundamental levels. From physics to biology to art to human relationships, there are essential tawantins everywhere. There are, of course, many other kinds of “fours” but these are representative of tawantins that undergird our world.

* The four bases of DNA: Adenine, thymine, cytosine, guanine

* The four bases of RNA: Adenine, uracil, cytosine, guanine

* The four force carriers of physics: Gluons, bosons, photons, and gravitons

* The four fundamental physics forces: Gravitational, electromagnetic , strong nuclear, and weak nuclear forces

* The four lobes of the brain: Frontal, parietal, temporal, occipital

* The four chambers of the heart: Left and right ventricles, and left and right atria

* The four essential representations in mathematics: Numeric, graphical, symbolic, words

* The four fundamental mathematical operations: Addition, subtraction, division, multiplication

* The four alchemical elements: Earth, air, fire, water

* The four domains of expression: Physical, mental, emotional, spiritual

* Four natural stages of life: Child, youth, adult, elder

There are tawantins in all kinds of other areas, such as the four seasons, the four cardinal directions, the four divisions of the day, the four stages of the moon, and on and on. And I have barely mentioned more symbolic, metaphorical, and spiritual meanings of fourness: the luck associated with a four-leaf clover, Plato’s four cardinal virtues, the four horsemen of the apocalypse, the four winds, the Pythagorean identification of the number 4 with God, the numerology symbolism of  the number 4 as bringing heaven down to earth.

Perhaps the most important tawantin is that of relationship, as it is through interactions with others that we potentially create the most hucha. Within the Andean mystical tradition, there are four factors in the growth of a relationship, forming the overarching framework of increasingly sami-filled interactions. The four-fold progression starts with munay, developing a mutual respect and affection. Then comes ayni, when your munay deepens so that you are beyond the needs of the self and truly see the other person for who they really are (and vice versa, with the other person reciprocating). Reaching ayni is the true beginning of a relationship, which can then take you to the stage of development called masintin-yanantin. This is the stage where you begin to work through the dynamics of your individual similarities and differences, more fully taking back your projections, expectations, and so on to harmonize the interactions without judging or trying to change the other person. Despite your differences, you both act in ways that benefit the other. Your similarities amplify your munay and ayni, and you can achieve harmony as your differences become supportive and complementary. Finally, you can reach tawantin, where you are each being who your really are, fully appreciative of the other as an individual, and aware that there is almost a third body in the relationship: the energy/poq’po of the relationship itself.

Watching for and addressing tawantins in your interactions with others is a productive way to reduce hucha and seek greater integrity , happiness, and wholeness. So let’s examine groupings of four factors that amount to tawanatins as identified by health and relationship experts. I will also add my own thoughts about the relational “tawantins” they identify.

Lawrence Michaels identifies what amounts to a tawantin of relationship by pointing out four main dynamics that can quickly degrade or even destroy relationships. This is a destructive rather than a constructive tawantin in that these are behaviors and attitudes to watch out for. If you remain aware and attentive to how these dynamics might be habits of your own relational energy or of the person you are trying to relate to then you will be able to see how and why you (or the other person) may be creating hucha in that relationship.

The first factor of the this tawantin is Criticism vs Complaining. Complaining gets you nowhere, except into a defensive standoff with your partner. Complaints are not about highlighting a troublesome issue but about placing blame, usually on someone else. Criticism, or more accurately critique, on the other hand, is a healthier approach to resolving issues. Critique is a objective, unemotional airing of a grievance. You are specific about a single issue instead of making sweeping generalizations, you suggest specific changes that can be made, and you are realistic about both your role and the other’s role in the difficult dynamic.

The second factor is Expressions of Contempt. Become aware of how you signal distaste and disagreement. It’s not only words that can wound, but facial expressions, tone of voice, body language, and other nonverbal cues. If you are prone to making sarcastic and cutting remarks, you are not communicating much of anything but blame and shame. You are not communicating but condemning. There is no room for discussion when you have already rendered a verdict on the other person. Expressing contempt (rather then discussing distaste or disagreement) can lead to the third most common hucha-inducing factor of this relational tawantin, defensiveness.

Defensiveness takes many forms, from anger and attack to withdrawal, dismissal, or flight. When either partner feels attacked or diminished, it’s common to go into protect-and-defend mode. But in that stance, neither partner can discuss the real issue, and trust breaks down. Causing someone to go into defensive mode or reacting in an overly defensive way yourself means you have shut down the sincere interactive energy of the relationship.

The fourth factor of this tawantin is Withdrawal or Stone-walling. The defensiveness that leads to the slamming of the emotional door of the relationship means communication is not possible. You or the other person simply are not present, available, or connected, so during the time of the withdrawal there is no relationship to work on.

How do you turn these hucha-inducing dynamics into a sami-inducing relational tawantin? Many psychologists identify another group of four factors that are constructive actions and attitudes. I bring their ideas together into the following tawantin.

First, cultivate respect. If there is no mutual respect, there is no munay or ayni. Respect grows out of caring, consideration, listening, finding worth in others, and remaining open to ideas and values that are different from yours.

Second is honesty. To be honest, you have to know yourself, so that you are not fooling yourself or the other. You have to be willing to own your “shadow stuff” so that you are not projecting outwardly what is driving you from within your unconscious. Then you have to be both brave and vulnerable enough to speak and act from your truth, and to accept that from the other person as well.

Cultivating honesty in a relationship leads to the third factor of the tawantin, trust. Trust takes many forms in many domains of a relationship, but no matter the context it is only by building trust in yourself and the other person that you can be “real” with each other. Without respect and honesty, there can be no such trust.

And these three factors together result in the fourth aspect of the tawantin: communication. It might be surprising that communication is the crowning attribute of the tawantin, instead of the first factor. You might think you have to have good communication in order to develop respect, honesty, and trust. However, in the flow of relationship it’s really the other way around: these three core factors of respect, honesty, and trust are what determine your ability to truly communicate at all. The first three aspects of the tawantin are the foundational abilities that lead to the building of a dynamic and deep communication.

I could go on with other ways to see the various tawantins of relationship, but I trust that you see how tawantins work to reduce hucha and increase sami. Within your own life and relationships, look for the four major factors that, when integrated, lead to harmony and wholeness. Working on those four factors is the dynamic work of the tawantin. They are the “gates” of the mandala of interaction through which you simultaneously walk to reach the center of a harmonious self and healthy relationships.

A fellow paqo and former student recently wrote me about an online teaching he attended with two Q’ero paqos about salka and atiy energies that he found intriguing and informative. He reviewed a bit of the material with me and asked for my perspective. I thought this subject would make a good blog post. But before I dive into the subject and offer my own perspective, I need to define and explain a few relevant terms.

Salka (salqa) means “selva” in Spanish and “jungle” in English. Overall it refers metaphorically to wildness, but its meaning has two distinct “flavors.” At one end of the spectrum, you experience salka as a natural and even primal life force. You express this energy by being spontaneous, original, unbridled, even daring. It’s a passion expressed through actions, an approach to life involving joyful abandon. It’s a personality style that drives you beyond familial or societal norms to express yourself without an overarching desire for approval or acceptance. It goes beyond intellect and emotion to a visceral, physical immersion in life. At the other end of the spectrum, salka is wildness that stays dark and goes deep, so it is mostly beyond your awareness. This salka is the energy of the hidden self, of the personal shadow, of impulses that drive your thoughts, words, and deeds in ways beyond your conscious choice. When left unchecked, this energy can be the cause of hucha, and it can even wreak havoc in your life.

Atiy refers to the capacity of the siki ñawi, the mystical “eye” or energy center at the base of the spine; this is the eye of the black belt, or yana chunpi. Atiy refers to personal power: to having the ability to take action or to overcome a challenge. Atini means “I can do it.” In the Andean mystical tradition, the capacity of atiy at the siki ñawi refers to an awareness of measuring your power, of determining how much power you have to undertake something you want to do. It also refers to determining proper timing of that action, where undertaking the action at the most opportune time increases your chance for success. Finally, the siki ñawi and yana chunpi are the places of impulses, of your baser, instinctual, and impulsive self. Impulse here refers to both core human needs (such as survival, food, nurturing) as well as the unconscious aspects of your “shadow self,” the hidden (or denied) psychological self that is a frothing cauldron of impulses that drive your thoughts, opinions, beliefs, responses, behaviors and more.

As you can see, salka and atiy can be yoked together to produce a powerful energy within the self, linking passion and action. But I want to make one more distinction—provide an important contrast—before I talk about this. At our qosqo ñawi, the eye of the puka chunpi (red belt) at the belly, we have the capacity for khuyay, passion. How is this passion at the qosqo ñawi different from the passion of salka, which some paqos are linking to atiy at the siki ñawi? Khuyay is passionate and mindful engagement; it is the intensity of connection of two lovers looking into each others’ eyes; it is the one-pointed immersion of attention and joy of a child at play; it is the perfect synchronization of a jazz trio making spontaneous music together. In contrast, salka is the more unconscious, unmediated wildness of your expressions and actions. You might say it is action that is less disciplined and defined, less shaped and understood. It tends to be reactive, and so too often is outside the realm of choice. I urge you to not confuse the two kinds of “passion”—salka (even in its healthy aspect) and khuyay— as the distinction is important to this discussion.

From what my fellow paqo and former student told me, in the online discussion the Q’ero paqos were speaking of salka as a powerful but largely hidden power. They also related it to animal spirits, such as the puma, hummingbird, condor, and serpent. If you seek this natural, wild, and passionate power, they said, you will find it. And you can, upon mastery of that power, link it with your atiy—your action in the world—to become a tukuyatiynioq: a total owner of atiy. I find all of this a beautiful rendering of one aspect of atiy, in a way I had not heard before.

But I would like to extend the discussion, admitting that I was told only a little about what the paqos said. I would like to tease out other meanings and applications of salka and atiy, and move beyond having to work with spirit beings, animal or otherwise. All power is within us, and that is how I would like to extend the discussion here.

I will begin by discussing salka as a step up an evolutionary path. (So that I don’t have to repeat myself in too much detail here, I refer you to an earlier post for more about salka: “Bridge Between the Worlds,” September 30, 2016.) My teacher don Juan Nuñez el Prado has discussed salka in relation to the Inkas. Very briefly, salka generally was thought of as wild in the sense of underdeveloped or undomesticated. The Inka were all about organization and improvement of what was wild, out of control, or unhelpful in nature. They did not seek to dominate nature, but to work in partnership with nature to undertake a process called mast’ay. Mast’ay means to structure, reorder, reorganize. Nature left to itself provided a harsh and unforgiving environment for humans to live in. It was difficult to thrive. As human culture developed, including the introduction of farming and domestication of animals, nature was remade in a way that was more organized and less wild. The Inkas perfected the art of irrigation and water rerouting, and of terracing mountainsides to grow crops, and such. They were reducing the wildness of nature and bringing greater organization to it for the benefit of human well-being. So, in this sense salka is a step down on the evolutionary path. Nature in its wildness is not amenable to human life; nature made more domesticated is. That’s the very general metaphor and actual process of human physical and cultural evolution. (We have gone to an extreme today, dominating and even destroying nature.)

I have said so many times that our Andean mystical path is a path of personal and collective evolution, moving up the stairway of consciousness from the zero level to the seventh level (from absolute dependency and no sense of self, like an infant, to the full revelation of being equivalent to God in human form). This is a path of power. It is a path, if you will, of atiy: of human action in the world.

Your karpay is your full amount power at the current time. Atiy is how you sensitize yourself to seeing reality as it really is in terms of how much personal power you have at the current time. Do you have enough personal power to carry out your intentions? If not, where are you lacking? Atiy also is bringing your impulses (as in your shadow self) to consciousness and, thus, under your will. When your impulses are not under your will, you tend to be impetuous, reactive, hasty, brash, and even reckless. So, if you are too salka—too hidden from yourself, too wild and uncontrolled in your impulses and, hence, with your power—you can be said to be less organized within the self, less able to consciously use your power. Your whole life will be affected because you will have less of a sense of your atiy.

Another aspect of salka and atiy involves the three worlds. You have the three worlds within you: a personal heaven or hanaqpacha (upper world) and a personal unconscious or ukhupacha (lower or inner world). Your personal kaypacha—your human life—reflects how well you integrate the inner upper world (enlightened self) and inner lower world (hidden, unconscious, shadow, impulsive self). The lower world, the ukhupacha, is a place of regeneration. It is the place you go to see with clarity the hucha you are generating and your lack of understanding of ayni. Through this awareness you then can make a choice to transform your hucha and improve your ayni. When you do, there is much less about yourself that you hide from yourself. You bring awareness to your deep emotional and psychological self and begin re-ordering your personal lower or inner world. This is a powerful mast’ay that leads to a quickening evolution of the self.

The animal spirits relate to these three worlds if you consider them metaphorically and energetically. The “totem” of the upper world used to be the condor and at some time in the past shifted to the hummingbird. The inner upper world is your inner divinity, your perfected and enlightened self that expresses only sami and practices perfect ayni. The condor is the eater of hucha (heavy energy), whereas the hummingbird is the bringer of sami (light living energy).  Your work is twofold. First, getting your inner wildness under control involves both seeing and owning where you are creating hucha and then transforming (eating) your hucha. This is the work of your inner condor.  When you have less hucha, you have more sami available to bring to the world, and you can consciously spread your sami as the work of your inner hummingbird.

The animal spirit of the lower world is the amaru, or anaconda/snake. It metaphorically heralds your ability to go deep into your salka or hidden self—your inner lower world of the subconscious—and begin the work of regenerating yourself. You shed the skin of your old impulsive and reactive self and take on the new skin of making conscious choices and taking conscious action. (As an aside: Impulses in and of themselves are not negative or bad. Impulses can be seen simply as the energy to do something. But hidden salka impulses can be the content of your shadow self, the repressed energies you keep hidden from yourself and that drive you without your conscious awareness. There is little personal power involved in that kind of impulse energy.)

The way your upper and lower worlds are aligned with each other (integrated or not) at least partly determines the condition of your kaypacha, your human life. The kaypacha is represented by the puma. After integration of the upper and lower inner worlds you identify not with the hidden, wild otorango of the jungle, but with the mountain puma, who lives closer to human communities. You move from your wild self to your more human, domesticated self. Or, to put it another way, you can transform your salka energy from uncontrolled and unconscious impulse to a thriving, passionate engagement in life.

All of this discussion brings us to qaway—mystical vision, seeing reality as it really is. The three uppermost ñawis are the two physical eyes and the seventh eye. You must learn to see the reality of your physical world and human self without the overlay of your desires, opinions, stories, and projections. At the same time, you must learn to see the reality of your energetic self, of your potential to be a perfected, enlightened human being. This is an integration process—a mast’ay—of the physical and metaphysical understanding of yourself. The process can start many ways, one of which is through developing your qaway to determine how salka (wild, not under your control) your atiy (ability to use your power) is. How reactive, impulsive, unthinking, even reckless are your thoughts, words, or actions when you are emotionally or psychologically triggered? The more you find yourself at the mercy of those salka impulses, the more hidden from yourself you are and the less ability you have to make actual choices for yourself. Your work is to bring those unruly salka aspects of yourself to the light of awareness (qaway) so that you can consciously sort out what is mindfully engaged passion (khuyay) and what is unthinking impulsivity (salqa). By doing so, you can increase your inner mast’ay and thus your atiy (what you choose to do in life and how you choose to apply your intention and energy).

If you can do that work, you also will discover that your impulses won’t be trapped at your siki ñawi. You can consciously move those impulses once they arise in the siki ñawi up through your other centers and ñawis, bringing other capacities—such as munay (love) and rimay (clarity of action, whether in your thoughts, emotions, words or deeds—to that impulse. You can then mediate the energy of that impulse, transforming it so that it is less hucha-inducing and more sami-producing. You can eventually evolve your salka energy to the level of khuyay, the capacity at the belly to experience a healthy and directed passion instead of an impulsive, undirected wildness. In that way, you move closer to becoming a tukuyatiynioq—a total owner of your ability to know your power and express it beneficially in the world.

You don’t need to work with animal spirits to do this inner work. You need to work with your own inner salka “animal” self. Evolutionarily we were once one step above wild animals. But we have evolved to becomes creatures of amazing complexity, creativity, insight, self-awareness, and more. This biological evolution, now more or less complete, has morphed to an evolution of conscious: to moving up the qanchispatañan, or stairway of seven steps of consciousness. Part of this process is morphing unconscious impulsivity (salka) into focused and joyful passion (khuyay). Then infusing your atiy with this passion to express yourself and engage with life in a gloriously authentic way.