As with my previous post, “Making and Offering Despachos,” in this post I discuss aspects of the misha (In Spanish, the mesa) in response to questions I have been asked while traveling around the United States as a teacher of the Andean tradition.

The same disclaimers apply here as did with the despacho post!

• Seeking the “why” of your practice takes you back to basic Andean cosmovision.

• These are the teaching as I understand them and as preserved through the lineage of Juan Nuñez del Prado, and his teachers, don Benito Qoriwaman, don Andres Espinosa, and don Melchor Desa; or it is information I learned from paqos with whom I have worked. So it is not definitive beyond this scope.

• There is next to no way to make a mistake with Andean practice if your ayni is conscious and clear.

• Because of ayni, most energy work is invisible, so ceremony and ritual are almost always choices rather than requirements when undertaking Andean practices; therefore, most “must do” instructions are personal preferences of teachers and should be taken as such, especially if the teacher cannot justify the practice based on the core Andean cosmovision.

When students ask about how to do something, such as how to make or use a misha, my preference is always to ask the “why” of what they are doing, leading them back to the basics of the Andean cosmovision. When you understand the foundation of the tradition, you will better know how to evaluate what you are being taught, especially when it comes to ritual or ceremony.

As I said in the despacho post, there is next to no rote ritual in the Andes because the foundational principle of practicing is ayni, which is by definition intensely personal. I advise you to go to the despacho post (August 2016) and read the first half so that I don’t have to repeat all of the information about the core precepts of the Andean tradition here.

So, what is a misha? It’s a bundle of objects, mostly stones, which are called khuyas, that have personal meaning for the paqo. Misha is the ancient Quechua term for what is called in Spanish the mesa. It means “sign.” It is the “symbol” of personal power. It is not your actual personal power, but is an outward symbol that you are a paqo—a follower of the Andean mystical tradition of Peru. As a paqo, you are in training to become a master of ayni. The better your ayni, the more personal power you have—and so the “stronger” or “more powerful” your misha, since it represents or embodies your personal power.

Khuya means “affection.” The items you gather into your misha bundle are objects infused with your munay, or love. They represent your ayni connections to teachers, the most important spirit beings, places you have worked such as temples or sacred sites, and the most important, loving, transformative events of your life and people in your life. These khuyas are gathered together and wrapped in a cloth, which is the misha.

Let’s now look at some common questions about the misha and its use.

How do you make a misha?

Many beginners on the Andean mystical path ask this question. They see paqos with mishas and they, rightly, want one, too. The answer is that, generally speaking, you don’t “make” a misha, it is a gift that you accept, piece by piece, as you engage life.

Think of the misha as a material diary of your life and your journey as a paqo and as a human being.

Every khuya represents an important event, person, feeling, or learning in your life. So, khuyas can come to you in myriad ways. They can mark a karpay given you by your teacher. They may be “gifted” to you by a spirit being. You may be attracted to a stone or other item at a sacred place. You may choose an object to represent a significant turning point or relationship in your life. There are as many ways to receive or choose a khuya as there are experiences in life.

For instance, the newest khuya in my misha is a small wooden cross that my siblings and I placed in one of my mother’s hands as she slipped away from this life in hospice. She held it the entire last week of her life, and when she dropped her body, I took that cross and added it to my misha as a khuya of my deep love for a woman who was not only an incredible mother but my best friend. She represented the epitome of many qualities that I try to model in my life. This khuya not only embodies our mutual love, but serves as a reminder of those qualities that I continue to aspire to in my own conscious evolution.

What is true of all khuyas is that each is infused with meaning and munay. You care for that khuya as you do any precious gift: by wrapping it in a cloth or otherwise protecting  or preserving it. With that first khuya you have started your misha.

So the truest answer to the question of how you “make” a misha is: Live your life.

Does every misha (or khuya) have power?

No, not necessarily. The misha is representative of your personal power. For the most part, it does not confer power on you, it reflects what is in you at the current time. So, its power is commensurate with your personal power. If you have very little personal power, then so does your misha. If you have a lot, then so does your misha.

No matter what kind of khuyas you have in your misha—a small meteorite, a crystal, a stone from Apu Ausangate, an object representing a person you love—the individual khuyas are not really transmitters of power per se. You have to develop a relationship with each khuya.

Even though in the Andean mystical tradition everything in the cosmos is seen as a living being, if you do not have an ayni relationship with that item, then it cannot have much of an impact on you. The ayni relationship is always a two-way flow. If you are gifted a khuya, its energy cannot penetrate your poq’po if you are not open to receiving it. And even if you do receive its energy, you can only understand and use it to the level of your own conscious evolution.  So while khuyas can transmit “power,” receiving and using that power is dependent on you and the state of your energy and consciousness.

Khuyas can be teachers, even powerful ones. But they can’t make you powerful. You have to accumulate your own personal power. As good teachers, usually they talk to you only at your level of understanding, or maybe a little higher so that they can challenge you and help you grow. But you have to have some measure of personal power (clear and effective ayni) to even open a dialogue with a khuya “spirit being” or to be able hear it. It is always wise to “work” with a new khuya. It’s like meeting a new friend. The relationship may be tentative and even awkward at first, but the more you connect and spend time together, the easier and more relaxed, deep, and meaningful the relationship becomes.

All of this is why, it is possible to have a misha of “powerful” khuyas and yet not have a misha of power! If you don’t have the ayni to relate to the khuyas, they might as well be powerless because you won’t be able to recognize or use the power. Remember, your misha is representative of your power, not only the power of the khuyas in it. However, a paradox is that khuyas may gift themselves to you because they represent the potential within you.

I remember one trip to Peru in which a few of us—all relatively new to the Andean path— were sitting around with don Mariano Apasa Marchaqa. Our small mishas were spread out on the ground around us. He leaned over and picked up one, put the bundle to one of his ears, and appeared to be listening. After a minute or so, he placed the bundle down again, remarking, “That is a misha of power.” Since the woman whose misha it was didn’t feel especially well versed in the tradition or powerful herself, she and we took his declaration to mean that she had attracted powerful khuyas, even though she had not yet accumulated a lot of personal power herself. It’s as if the khuyas, as spirit beings, recognized her potential and were patiently waiting for her to catch up!

The core of the interaction is that your misha represents your personal capacity for power (making ayni) right now in your life, no matter what level of latent power each khuya has within it. Thus, you can grow into your misha, in effect catching up with the khyuas in it. They are very patient!

How do you work with a misha?

Let me start by saying anything you can do with a misha, you have to first learn to do without it.

The misha doesn’t necessarily confer power; it mostly channels what personal power you have. Your focus has to be on perfecting your ayni, which equates with your personal power—your capacity to be in relationship with the living universe. Therefore, you never want to turn anything, including your misha, into a fetish.

A fetish is something in which you project your power. But if you ever lose the fetish, then you believe you have also lost your power. Don’t do that with your misha or any of the individual khuyas! They are a sign of your power, but are not your actual power. So whatever you can do with a misha, you can do without it.

At the core of the Andean cosmovision is that energy must follow intent. Intent is your power/ayni. So no matter how you use your misha, it is only an outward representation of your intent, whether you use it for healing or blessing or anything else. So when I discuss some of the uses of the misha below, always remember that it is you and your intent that is driving the energy, not the misha itself.

The misha  is a primary “eater” of hucha, so you will often see paqos running it over people’s bodies to reduce their hucha. But it is not really the misha alone that is doing anything. It is the paqo’s intent that is driving the energy through the misha. That paqo is simply using the misha as a repository for the hucha.

If you have experienced this or watched this process, you will no doubt have noticed that the paqos move their mishas in two primary ways. The most common process is to run the misha over your body in a downward stroking motion. The other, less common way is to move the misha upward, from your feet toward your head. You probably won’t ever see a paqo making circles around your body with the misha, or making squiggly lines around your body, or some other motion. It’s almost always a downward motion from head to toe or an upward motion from toe to head. What are they doing and why are they doing it this way?

The answer: saminchakuy or saiwachakuy.

In case you don’t know, there are two primary practices in the Andes: saminchakuy and saiwachakuy. Saminchakuy is a downward flow of energy: you use your intent to pull sami down from the cosmos into the poq’po while releasing hucha down into Mother Earth. This is the “cleansing” practice that moves hucha. In contrast, saiwachakuy is an upward flow of energy. Using intent, you direct sami up from Mother Earth into your poq’po to empower yourself. It has nothing much to do with hucha.

So look behind the outward movements and the colorful bundle that is the misha and you will see that the main way to use the misha is to either release hucha or empower with sami. There is nothing mysterious about this, despite the personal style with which the paqo may be performing the work. It is saminchaky and saiwachakuy, only using the misha to bolster and direct intent!

It’s a similar situation when you use a misha to “open” a person’s qosqo (or other center) or use the mullu khuyas to weave the chunpis and open the mystical eyes. The misha and khuyas are tools that represent or channel power, but are not the power itself. For instance, when performing the karpay for the chunpis (Chunpi Away), the paqo first connects with Mother Earth and so is actually channeling her sami up through himself or herself and the khuya to help the person (along with the person’s intent, of course). It is actually Mother Earth who is doing the karpay, not the paqo (and much less so the tools of misha or khuya)!

You often see paqos blowing through their misha or talking into it, addressing the spirits through it. Again, it is not the misha that is conferring power, it is the intent of the paqo that is passed through the misha. The misha is like the telephone line that is broadcasting the ayni of the paqo. The paqo doesn’t need the misha, but it is a beautiful practice to use the bundle to outwardly represent his or her munay and ayni.

Do khuyas have specific purposes?

Yes, they do. All of the paqos I have worked with, especially those who have gifted me a khuya, have explained that khuyas have different powers. One may be especially good at eating hucha. Another may be able to confer a blessing, and sometimes for specific reasons such as blessing you for a trip. But everything I said earlier is true to the tradition as I know it: you have to have the personal power to use the khuya. It can’t give you a power you are not capable of using. You can’t even discover the specific use of a khuya if you can’t first establish an ayni relationship to open an “dialogue” with the khuya. It can do nothing on its own, and that is the important thing to understand.

Recently while in Peru, I asked Juan about a khuya I have—a gift from a Q’ero paqo—that has an elaborate ceremony attached to its use. Juan smiled and said, “All of that is third level.” What I understood him to mean is that at the third level of consciousness we tend to complicate things, to make the khuyas (and ourselves) “special” by imparting ritual  and complex “magical” abilities to them. When we reach the fourth level, we realize that intent is what drives energy and we have less (or no) need for elaborate outer ritual. I have found this to be true in my own practice over the last twenty years. Watch out for the ego! Attaching “importance” to the self or sacred object can obscure what really counts, which is your munay and intent (your ayni). Ayni is almost always invisible. Most of the time, no one will ever know when a master is “working” the energies. He or she will not need outward displays.

Do you ever work with the misha open? And if so, how is the misha organized?

I have never seen a paqo from the south-central Andes work with an open misha. Because the primary purpose is to move energy (outward manifestation of inward intent), the bundle is usually closed and then run over the body or blown into or spoken into to establish a relationship with spirit.

I also have never heard or witnessed a teaching where a paqo opened his bundle and proscribed a particular organization for the khuyas in the misha. The way you configure your misha is personal to you because your intent and ayni are personal. You may arrange things according to any kind of structure, perhaps in an arrangement reflecting the three worlds, the yanantin/mastinin/tawantin, or some other pattern that is your personal preference and has personal meaning for you.

The situation is very different for paqos from the northwest coastal traditions. They have elaborate misha configurations and complex symbolic explanations for placement. But that is not true of the Q’ero of south-central mountain tradition, at least to my knowledge and in my experience.

Finally, remember that your misha is a “sign” that you are a paqo, following the Andean tradition. As such, it connects you to all the spirit beings and other paqos of the tradition. You are never alone as a paqo. However, your misha is always and only representative of you—and you alone. If you are following a rote schema, you are mirroring someone else’s ayni relationships, not your own. There is nothing wrong with agreeing to “universal” meanings and a teacher’s instructions for where to place something and what it means as long as that feels true in relation to your own beingness and ayni relationships.

If you want to make your open misha into a map of the self or a map of the three worlds or a map of the universe, there is nothing to stop you from doing so. Just know that that schema, too, is a symbolic construct. It confers no magical knowledge or powers. What you can do in your life is what you have the personal power to do. Personal power is ayni. No magical incantation or symbolic map can change your ayni. It may heighten your focus to do your work, it may feel good or look beautiful, but it can’t in and of itself change your energy one iota.

Can you change what’s in your misha?

Absolutely. As a symbol of your personal power, your misha changes as you change. Khuyas that had meaning ten years ago may no longer have that meaning today. New items may call you as you have new experiences and you grow and change. You are not static, so you misha cannot be either.

Traditionally, it is common to open your misha, “feed it,” and change anything in it once a year. Often that is done on August 1, the day, it is said, that Pachamama and the Apus “awaken.” They listen more closely, so we have opportunity to be in deeper ayni with them and state our intent for manifestation over the next year.  As we do a self-review and refocus, we may change our mishas. (See my post “Independence Day Andean Style – July 1, 2015.)

What if you lose your misha or a khuya?

Replace it! I asked Juan this years ago and he said, very simply, “If you lose a khuya, go out into your backyard and pick another stone. Then infuse it with the affection and feelings you had about the one you lost.” Remember, khuyas are not fetishes, not magical totems. They are only representative of what is within you. Simply infuse the new stone with the feelings you had about the old. Same for the entire misha.

There is much more to say about the misha, but this covers the basics. As I stressed in the despacho post and again here, don’t worry about what others tell you do—including me—but drop deep inside and discover what you feel. Your ayni is your guide to your practice. You can have all the tools of a paqo, including a misha, but they can’t make you a “better” paqo. Only your ayni can. That said, part of being a paqo is knowing your lineage and its cosmovision. When you know the elemental and core aspects of the cosmovision, you will almost always know what is important in your practice. Don’t be swayed by complexity, symbolism, ritual, ceremony. Simply trust your heart—and your results, as they are the measures of your power because they are the direct “feedback” about your ayni from the kawsay pacha.

 

[Note: Photos 1, 6, and 7   were taken by Lisa McClendon Sims. She owns the copyright, so these photos may not be shared, copied or reproduced without her written permission.]

 

 

This is a long, long post, so thank you for your patience. It’s long because it covers one of the core practices of the Andean tradition—the despacho—and there is a lot to say. As I have traveled around sharing the tradition, I get a lot of questions  about the despacho. There seems to be a lot of conflicting information about how to properly make and offer a despacho: Do you open sacred space first? Do you always make the most beautiful despacho possible? Are you in a state of thanksgiving and reverence? If you offer the despacho through burning it, do you watch it burn or turn your back to the fire?

Usually, when someone asks me a question, about the despacho or any other aspect of Andean practice, I ask, “Why are you doing it that way?” or “Why did your teacher tell you to do it that way?”

If they can’t answer, then we have reached the heart of the problem—undertaking a practice without knowing the foundation of Andean cosmosvision. If you have a thorough understanding of the essence of the Andean cosmovision, you will almost always know if a practice is in accord with the tradition or if it is more likely the personal preference of a teacher, the addition of a teacher’s non-Andean area of expertise (psychology, philosophy, etc.) or an overlay from another tradition. That is why I believe that answering the “why” questions are paramount to being a skilled paqo.

Let me start with some disclaimers! Because ayni—reciprocity—is at the heart of the Andean tradition, personal intent will always trump technique. If your intent is pure, strong, focused, you really can’t go wrong and are almost always on the right track in your ayni exchange with the cosmos of living energy and the spirit beings. But there is a “more Andean” and a “less Andean” way to do things because practice rests on the foundation of the Andean cosmovision. That’s why my manner of teaching the tradition is to always, always, always go back to the cosmovision as it was taught to me through Juan Nuñez del Prado and his lineage of don Benito Qoriwaman, don Andres Espinosa, and don Melchor Desa. Is this the only lineage worth studying? No. But it is a lineage of three of the most respected master paqos of the recent past. Is theirs the only way to practice the tradition? No. But the benefit I find in this lineage’s teaching is that the “why” is always explained, and so my practice can be as simple, essential, efficient, and practical as the tradition itself.

That’s just my preference—to strip things down to the essential with no razzle-dazzle. This preference may not  be yours. So, if you don’t care that your practice aligns with the established Andean cosmosvision of this lineage of paqos, then there is no need to read any further.  But if that matters to you, or you are just curious to read another point of view from what you may be used to, then I hope that you will gain some insight about offering a despacho from this long post.

Let’s begin by acknowledging that there is an Andean cosmovision that has survived the centuries through oral transmission. Although every living tradition changes over time, to survive it must retain its core beliefs. In the Andes these beliefs include that:

• The universe is one of living energy (kawsay). One aspect of this living energy is the Pachamama, the material universe. Everything is made of kawsay.

• We are in constant interchange (ayni) consciously or unconsciously with this living energy.

• Intent drives energy.

• Energy is just energy. Only humans project a moral overlay on to energy according to their ethics, values, etc.

• Only humans slow down the living energy (called hucha), which over time may deplete some of our well-being. But hucha is not negative, bad or contaminating; it is just slow kawsay: kawsay we don’t radiate perfectly.

• If we have a sufficiently coherent energy body (poq’po) there is no expression of energy that we need to fear. The more coherent our poq’po, the more “personal power” we have, which means the more effective our ayni will be.

• There are spirit beings, we can communicate with them, and they can teach us, empower us, and assist us.

These are a few of the core convictions of the Andean cosmovision that will come into play as we examine our despacho practice. Why and how we do something should be rooted in these foundational, largely unchanging Andean beliefs.

The “ how” is easy, as we all have our way of undertaking the practices. But too many times, when people ask about whether one way or another is preferable, they can’t trace the “how” back to the “why.” Being unable to do so, they will have to blindly accept everything someone tells them—including me!—instead of being able to assess its reliability for themselves. And if they can’t make those considered distinctions, then it is unlikely they will ever master the practices of the tradition. To achieve mastery, at the very least we have to be fully engaged through our intent, not practice by rote.

Let me be crystal clear: There is not one way to do things, but there are some explanations and reasons for carrying out Andean practices in a particular way that are more elemental to Andean cosmovision and, thus, closer to the “spirit” of the tradition.

So, all that said, I trust we can agree that our understanding and knowledge of the cosmovision do affect our practice. Let’s turn our attention now to the despacho.

Questions and Answers About the Despacho

What Is a Despacho and How Do You Make One?

Despacho is the Spanish word for the nature bundle and offering that in the ancient Quechua is called the hayway (pronounced sort of like “hi-why”), which literally means “offering.” A haywarisqa is the practice of making the offering and the one who makes it. The Spanish word “despacho” is the translation of this Quechua term, although its meaning depends on context: dispatch, communication, shipment, office or study, among other meanings. The first two meanings in this list are most appropriate to an Andean despacho offering.

As an offering, the despacho is a bundle of items infused with your personal power and intent and offered in ayni to the cosmos or spirit beings. It has a base of paper, which is covered with natural and manmade items that represent your intent and your state of mind, heart, and being. The items you select for a despacho have both universal meaning (shell = divine feminine, cross = divine masculine, etc.) and personal meaning. Once you have made the despacho, you then close up the bundle and offer it to the spirits by burning it, burying it, or releasing it in a body of water.

Although there are general guidelines for making a despacho (paper, shell, cross, k’intus, offering items), there is no one set of rules for its structure or organization. There are no fixed placements for the items because the despacho must be true and authentic to your intention.

For example, don Manuel Qespi’s styles included the following: if he wanted to bring air and openness to something in the intent of the despacho, he would place the items loosely and spaciously, often out toward the edge of the paper. If he wanted to bring stability and groundedness to a situation, he would cluster the items close to the center of the paper. Since the choice for where to place items depends on intent and purpose, there can be no standardized way to organize a despacho. Because of ayni, a despacho is by definition personal (between you and the spirit beings) and idiosyncratic (this is your offering, wish, desire, or whatever, and so like no one else’s).

Ascribing meaning to most of the items for the despacho can also be entirely personal. For instance, in premade despacho bundles you can buy in the market in Peru, there is usually a little “wheel” of metal figures and symbols. Among them is the lock and key. I know some paqos who teach that you never put the lock and key in your despacho, as it will lock out your intent, countering your ayni. I also know others who teach to always put the lock and key in, saying it unlocks your deepest ayni and intent. Bottom line: it’s your despacho—what you put in it is infused with your meaning, through your own intent and personal power.

The making of a despacho not only mirrors the intent of why you are making it, but also reveals your personal style as a paqo. In fact, once you get to know a paqo you can look at a row of despachos and pick out the one that a particular paqo made. That’s because paqos develop “signature” styles. A despacho made by don Manuel would be recognizable, as would one made by don Mariano Apasa Marchaqa. In the same way, your style of making a despacho is likely to be different from mine, and we might change our styles depending on the reason we are making a particular despacho offering.

In Andean mysticism you never just copy your teacher. Over time, you develop your own way of making a despacho, and you may have several “templates” that you follow purely from personal preference. I have drawings of some of the types of despachos don Manuel Q’espi used to make. He used a completely different placement of k’intus and items in a “male” despacho than a “female” one. Sometimes he would not even use a shell and a cross, instead making a central cross or X with fine granular incense.  And he sometimes arranged the k’intus in rows, not a circle around the center.

Bottom line: Be yourself and be true to your ayni. Don’t make a despacho by rote.

How Do You Open Sacred Space Before Making a Despacho?

When it comes to an “opening” ceremony for despacho making, it’s a personal choice, not a necessity. There is very little ritual or ceremony in the Andean mystical tradition, but there is nothing wrong with performing ceremony if you are conscious that it is only a personal preference. But to get to the heart of the question, I have to ask,  “Why do you need to open or create sacred space?” and “What space is not sacred?”

Even if seen as metaphor, the words “open” or “create” sacred space hint at a misunderstanding of the Andean conception of energy. They imply that you have to open a door to the sublime that has been closed to you. That before your invocation, you are in a space devoid of or lacking in the sacred. This view is counter to Andean cosmovision of a universe infused everywhere and at all times with sami.

According to the Andean tradition, there is no place except within the human energy body that is not pure sami (refined energy), so everything, everywhere is sacred. The entire kawsay pacha is living energy in its most refined state. And even if you feel hucha within yourself, hucha is not bad, contaminating, or unsacred. So my point is that ceremonial space clearing or ordering is not necessary. You might like to do that. Fine, do it. Performing such ceremony can mark the beginning of the despacho-making process, help focus your attention, foster a greater sense of beauty, and bring a group into collective resonance. It might also be part of your ayni to connect with the spirits, as in opening a dialogue.  But it is not required. Ayni is invisible! If you choose to it make visible, fine, but know that undertaking this kind of initial ceremony is a choice, not a necessity.

As I said, there is next to no rote ritual in the Andean tradition. You will indeed see many paqos (at least, those with whom I have worked) whisper into a k’intu or their misha (mesa) before starting to make a despacho. They are communing with their guiding spirits or the cosmos at large. They are calling the spirits to come closer or asking that their prayers be received. They may honor the three worlds and the three human powers. If you want to call this personal communication with spirit guides or beings by the words “opening sacred space,” okay. But that is not really an accurate way of describing what they are doing—which is deepening their ayni in an intensely personal and nearly private way.

Why Offer a Despacho?

To understand the “why” of the despacho, it’s helpful to realize that when training in the tradition, the despacho is usually one of the first practices you are introduced to. Why?

Because the despacho is the primary way of teaching about ayni (reciprocity).

There are hundreds of types of despachos, which means that there are hundreds of reasons for offering an despacho.  What underlies them all is ayni. Ayni is always and only the “why” of a despacho. The despacho is the outward action and manifestation of the inward energetic and intentional gesture of personal reciprocity with the living cosmos.

The intent of a despacho will always be expressing one of these three stances of ayni:

• An offering of thanksgiving, gratitude, or appreciation that honors or acknowledges someone or something. You can be honoring your parents or the spirits being. You can be thanking the spirit beings for a turn of good fortune or a return to health. You can be making a gesture of appreciation for your life or your new car. You can be acknowledging the wisdom of the ancestors or a new insight into yourself that has helped you overcome stuck beliefs or behavior.

• A request. In this kind of despacho you are asking for something. It might be the help or influence of the spirit beings or the general largesse of the living cosmos. You might be asking for a blessing such as for fertility to bear a child or assistance to birth a new business. Or you might be requesting a break, such as an end to or relief from your suffering or heartache. When you make this kind of despacho, it is important to be true in your ayni and make a despacho that reflects your feelings. If you are depressed, make an offering of your depression. If you are angry, make an offering of your anger. A despacho is not always pretty. If it is an offering of your depression to the cosmos with a request of release that means your despacho actually is your depression, not just a mirror of it or substitute for it.

• To make atonement. This kind of despacho is called a pago, or payment. This kind of despacho is a purely energetic ayni for making amends, asking forgiveness, or acknowledging a personal shortcoming in thought, word or deed.

Every possible kind of despacho falls into one of these three ayni categories, so when you are preparing to actually make the despacho, knowing this “why” will guide how you actually make the despacho, including what you put in it and its design and organization.

How Do You Offer a Despacho?

In my work with various paqos over the years, I have only ever seen one way of offering a despacho, but as I share the tradition around the country I have become aware that there is a different opinion and diametrically opposite practice. I can only offer an answer based on my understanding of Andean cosmovision through the lineage that I follow.

The two schools of thought are that when you offer a despacho, let’s say by burning it, you:

• witness the offering and the burning until the despacho is fully consumed

• you turn your back so you can’t see the offering consumed and you detach from the outcome of the offering

I have only ever seen paqos offer a despacho in the first way, by witnessing the offering until it is fully consumed. Admittedly, that is a small sample of paqos. So I won’t base my answer only on how I have seen it done by the paqos I happened to work with, but on what makes sense in terms of the universal, underlying cosmovision of the Andes through this lineage.

Don Benito Qoriwaman taught ayni through the practice of the despacho. He explained that when you make a despacho it is like inviting the most honored guests (the spirit beings) to your house and making and serving them the finest food (everything you put in the despacho, especially your intent).

(As an aside: Don’t misunderstand that the “finest food” means anything sentimental. As I indicated earlier, if you are making a request to lift a deep depression, then the main ingredient of your meal for the spirits will be your dark and debilitating depression.)

Knowing that a despacho is like preparing the finest meal of yourself and your intent for the spirits to dine on, I ask, “Why would you ever turn your back on these most honored guests?”

You wouldn’t. You would serve them and commune with them. You invited them, and they have come to meet you and dine on your intent. If they accepted your invitation, then you can be sure they want you there with them. So, you would enjoy, not reject, their company.

Moreover, there is nothing in the Andean tradition, at least that I have ever heard, that teaches fear of the spirit beings. Respect, yes. But not fear. They are not intimidating strangers. They are your friends! You are honoring them, making a meal for them—and that occasion is not complete if you as the host are not fully present.

If it is a group despacho, nothing changes. If possible, you don’t send a surrogate (your teacher or a master paqo) to be with the spirit beings on the group’s behalf. If anything of you is in the despacho, you commune with the spirits yourself (along with the others in the group) because the despacho is always about ayni—and your ayni is part of the group despacho. The only caveat is if a paqo is making a despacho on your group’s behalf. The group may witness the despacho-making, but is usually not deeply involved. In this case, the group may not be involved in actually offering it to the fire.

In addition, paqos almost always closely witness the spirits “eating” their offering. They assess the color and direction of the smoke, how the bundle burns, if it is fully consumed, and so on. All of that has meaning in terms of how the spirits “accept” your ayni. You can’t do that if you have your back turned.

Another aspect of offering the despacho is how you relate to your prayer, request, or payment. Some say you must “detach” from the offering, which is another reason to turn your back while the despacho is burning.

From what I know about the Andean mystical tradition through the lineage in which I studied, I can’t imagine a paqo ever telling anyone to “detach” from their despacho offering. A despacho is the deepest expression (outward and inward) of your ayni. Ayni is inseparable from your intent. You can’t detach from ayni, only be unconscious to it.

Plus, from the Andean perspective, when you undertake a practice, you expect results. You absolutely expect them! That’s the practicality of the Andean tradition. The expectation is that if your ayni is “accepted” by Spirit, you will not only get what you asked for, but you will showered with blessings greater than what you asked for. That expectation is the furthest thing possible from detachment!

Detachment is a decidedly Buddhist stance, where craving is at the root of human suffering. That is not even close to the Andean view. In fact, Andean practices are almost the opposite of detachment. For instance, in the “play area” at Qoyllurit’i, people embody their desire (intent, ayni). They act it out, in great detail and with a spirit of both intensity and playfulness. Andeans embody to fully immerse themselves in an experience, not to detach from it or the intent that drives them to undertake the experience in the first place.

It is true that sometimes we detach from how the ayni is returned to us, but we never detach from expecting a return or the process of making and offering the despacho. The universe of living energy is untold times greater in its generosity and creativity than we are, so how we receive our ayni may not look like we expected it to, but we always know that ayni is the law of the cosmos and so we never “detach” from it. I am talking about attention and intention, not about craving or obsessing, which may be hucha-producing. We can be humble in our offering and still strong in our intent, but humility is not detachment. If you are offering a despacho—the supreme expression of ayni—then almost by definition you are exercising a stronger than normal intent: the whole point of a despacho is to concentrate your intent beyond its normal level by embodying it in material form, so you have every reason to keep your expectations high while also remaining humble before Spirit.

All of this is why I think detachment is a contamination from another tradition and is counter to the core of the Andean cosmovision and the spirit of despacho-making and despacho–offering.

I hope that this long post has helped you see that the “why” of what you are doing as a paqo is as important as what you do. When you are told to “Do it this way,” ask yourself, “Is this way in alignment with Andean cosmovision?” If it isn’t, then you can safely assume that the teaching is personal to that teacher and not a “must do” in terms of the core of the tradition.

There really is no right or wrong—it’s really, really hard, if not impossible, to make a “mistake” in Andean mystical practice because intent is at the heart of everything in this tradition and always trumps ritual. However, there is “more Andean” and “less Andean” and sometimes as a practitioner of this tradition, you have to question your teacher about the “why” of a practice. The answer may be in alignment with the ancient cosmovision or may be simply personal preference, but your teacher should be able to explain that difference clearly to you.

The Andean tradition is beyond most dogma, but you can layer any kind of psychology, philosophy, ceremony, or poetry onto its practices without those practices losing effect (if your ayni is effective and strong). But why do that? I propose that in your development as a paqo the most productive approach is to strip things down to their foundation before choosing to dress them up to make them more fun or appealing or whatever. Doing so, to me at least, is the best way to honor the lineage, respect the tradition, and become the most effective paqo you can be for your own conscious evolution and that of the world.

(Note: I am traveling in Peru for a large part of September so will not be available to moderate comments or questions until my return.)

(Also, thank you to Fran for pictures of some of her despachos.)

One of the penalties of refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.
— Plato

No matter what your political party affiliation or where you fall on the spectrum from liberal to conservative, if you are a person who practices the Andean way, there is a Andean lense through which to view politics. At the current time, this post may speak more to those from the United States, who are in the midst of a presidential election cycle, but it is relevant to all who take their civic duties seriously.

The first lesson a budding paqo learns is about ayni—reciprocity. The supreme practice for learning ayni is the hayway, or despacho. Ayni is the natural law of the cosmos and the driving force of evolution. It is the teaching that is quite literally at the heart of human conscious development.

Ayni can be restated in many ways: give generously and freely according to the measure of your gifts and receive generously and freely; as you sow, so shall you reap; love others as you love yourself; do unto others as you would have them do unto you; treat others with the respect you would like to receive yourself.

However, ayni is not just any kind of exchange. It is one that moves from the foundation of feelings, not the impulse of emotions. Feelings are distinct from emotions. Feelings are the “big” expressions of our humanity, Platonic in scope and character: compassion, generosity, empathy, kindness, love as agape. Feelings are  energetically connected with the qori chunpi, or belt of power at the heart.

In contrast, emotions, associated with the belt of power at the belly, or qosqo, are more transitory, and are situation- and circumstance-driven. You feel happy one moment when things are going well and unhappy two days later when they are not. You are kind when people treat you well and are insulting  or hurtful to them when they do not. You are madly in love this month and angrily kicking your lover out the door the next.

Both feelings and emotions drive ayni, and both can be expressed at any level of the six levels of consciousness. (The seventh level may be beyond human feelings and emotions. See my May 23, 2016, post, “Cleansing Emotional Hucha,” for a description of the seven levels of consciousness.) Because the highest expression of ayni arises from feelings, it is not just any kind of exchange but an exchange that is larger than the two people or entities (such as cultures or nations) involved. This kind of ayni is the opposite of ch’allay, the mercantile, self-interested exchange. Ch’allay is about me, for my benefit, to enhance or enlarge my own interests. Ch’allay doesn’t really consider the other party except as a means of fulfilling a practical, personal desire. It involves transactions more than interrelations. Buying a car is ch’allay, but treating the salesperson with respect is ayni.

As you go to the voting booth, in the United States on November 8 or elsewhere at other times, ask yourself: Who among the candidates understands and acts from ayni instead of ch’allay? Also remember that ayni is not a stream of earthbound energy; it has cosmic ramifications. It is always cosmic in scope because everything, including human consciousness and its intent, is part of the vast web of a living universe. So ask yourself: Which candidate’s platform and vision have the most beneficial impact not only at the personal level but at the spiritual and cosmic level?

The answers will help you choose to elect a fourth-level public servant instead of a second-level or third-level politician. Among other qualities and characteristics, a fourth-level person has personal opinions, beliefs, and stances but doesn’t feel he or she has a monopoly on truth and so is open to others’ ideas and opinions. This person sees beyond constructs and symbols to serve as witness to that which unites people rather than only to that which divides them. Such a person can see Spirit and the sacred wherever he or she goes, in all kinds of environments and through all kinds of lenses that are different from his or her own. A fourth-level person has a global vision even if his or her actions are primarily local or regional.

The Andean mystical tradition teaches about two kinds of relationship exchanges: masintin and yanantin. In their simplest forms, masintin is a relationship of shared characteristics whereas yanantin is one of dissimilar characteristics. Yanantin relations tend to cause the most hucha—but only if the person is blind to the energy dynamic. A person wise in the ways of energy dynamics will be aware of where and how his or her relations are similar and where they are dissimilar, and act accordingly to prevent discord and harm. It’s easy to act from feelings (empathy, compassion, kindness, generosity) when feeling kinship with another person or group (masintin). Fourth-level maturity comes into play when those interactions feel distant and different (yanantin). When faced with a combative press, a disparaging opponent, a hostile crowd, a fickle ally or a ferocious foe, the skills of the fourth level are crucial to keeping the yanantin energies from creating hucha for all involved.

So ask yourself as you go into the voting booth: Which candidate deftly and wisely handles both those who are similar to him or her and those who are not? Who has the maturity to show the same respect to each group—to those who are allies and those who appear to be opponents, to those who share the same values and beliefs and to those who do not? Being able to negotiate both masintin and yanantin relationships is a good clue that this candidate is both tolerant and responsive beyond the scope of his or her own belief system and outside of his or her own comfort zone.

As you cast your vote, carry with you the Andean teachings  of the three human powers: munay (love grounded in will), yachay (intellect, reason, logic) and llan’kay (the physical, being able to propose action and then take it; following through on words with actions). An effective leader will have harmonized the three human gifts within. That person will say what he or she means, do what he or she says, and both speak and act (with munay and from ayni) with the larger good in mind. Someone who has harmonized the three human powers within is someone who has integrity, which surely is a core characteristic we want in those whom we elect to govern.

There are many more Andean teachings that can help us nurture a fourth-level political awareness. Those I have written about, however, are fundamental to ensuring that we not only hold ourselves to high standards, but expect the same, if not more, from our elected officials.

“I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.”
― Alice Walker, The Color Purple

The world—the material universe we call Pachamama in the Andean tradition—has a grandeur we can hardly fathom. It is rich in diversity beyond the scope of our imaginations. But its grandeur and fecundity are not beyond our means of experience.

Rather than simply noticing the material world, as a paqo you want to have the personal power to be able to “taste” it—to perceive it energetically—as if it were a smorgasbord of goodies laid out to satisfy your personal appetite.

When I teach the tradition, after helping people perceive their poq’po (energy bubble) and locate their qosqo (primary energy center at the belly), I have them practice sending out seqes of energy like tongues to “taste” the world of living energy.

What does the grass taste like? That cloud? That patch of sand? How about a daisy? Does that daisy taste differently from the wisteria vine? From that patch of poison ivy? What do you perceive when you taste that plastic lawn chair? Is the flavor of its plastic different from the plastic of the child’s beach bucket? Does a Cadillac taste different from a Subaru? And on and on. I even ask multiple people to taste the same thing—say, a particular tree—to see if their energetic sense of the tree is similar or not. It may not be since we perceive the universe through the condition of our own energy body, but it often is.

“Taste” is a metaphor the paqos use, because they also use the metaphor of the energetic “stomach” for your qosqo. You are not really tasting energy as you would taste food. If you send a seqe out to a lemon tree, your taste buds won’t protest at the acidity. Instead, you perceive the energetic signature, or “personality” if you will, of that lemon tree. Does it feel light, heavy, healthy, sick, coherent, dissonant, or a host of other possible perceptions? According the Andean tradition, and to many other energy traditions, everything in the universe—even those things that are inorganic—has some semblance of sentience, of consciousness. So it may well be that you also perceive the consciousness of that lemon tree. It might even “talk” to you!

As an example, I once tasted a white plastic lawn chair. My preconceived expectation was that it would feel stiff and hard. It didn’t. It felt malleable, porous, and even a bit spongy. What most surprised me though is that once I had established an energetic connection with it, I felt that chair had emotions! It felt immensely happy, even giddy! What I perceived was a “being” of plastic that was happy to have been molded into a chair, not a handle or a hose or something else. It was delighted that it was an object that could be close to human beings. It loved human energy, and was proud to be an object they regularly used. Call me crazy. . .

Even if you pick up a “story” from the object, perceiving in the Andean tradition is not the same as using your intuition. Perception goes beyond intuitive knowing to a visceral perception—it is a feeling at the level of the body, although it also can be of the mind and emotions.

When you taste an object, you may also pick up the energy imprint of people or animals or others who interact with that object all the time. For example, I said above that you might try tasting different kinds of cars. I actually tried that as an experiment. After doing this exercise or training hundreds of times, I realized I had never tasted cars. Beyond its basic “isness” as a metal and plastic and rubber object, I wondered if different models tasted differently. I tasted a Cadillac (metallic, sinuous almost like flowing mercury, and more) and a Subaru (felt like a weave of wires, or mesh, and of wood and smokiness, and more. I ended the exercise by “tasting” a Nissan sedan. When I connected my seqe to the Nissan I was overwhelmed with visions of candy and the taste of sweetness. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get past those perceptions. When I talked about this in the class after we regrouped from doing this exercise, one young woman smiled and look conspiratorially at her Mom, who was sitting next to her with a look of surprise on her face. Turns out the Nissan was the young woman’s car—and she was a candy maker! She delivered a lot of chocolates and other confections from that car. That was an intuitive overlay, but it was so strong that I never really got a perception of that Nissan.

As you practice tasting the world of living energy, remember that your ability is proportional to the state of your energy body. Keep your energy body “clean” and empowered by doing saminchakuy every day. If you have clarity of energy, you can pick up an amazing amount of information through your perceptions. There is a hypothesis in physics called Phase-Conjugate-Adaptive-Resonance, or PCAR. It says that everything is made of energy and information fields. Information rides on energy. When you connect energetically, you can, if you have the power and sensitivity, extract information from that energy field. There is an ayni exchange, from you to the object and from the object back to you, and the more concentrated your attention and coherent your energy, the more information-rich the interchange will be. I think PCAR is a great way to think of both natural and manmade objects and landscapes as “beings.” It helps us understand what we are doing when we “taste” all the various aspects of the Pachamama. When our practice is refined, we can go deeper than just “tasting” the energy; we can delve into the pool of information contained in that object’s field.

If you are not now playing in the field of living energy, I urge you to immediately make a play date! Get out and notice the glory of the Pachamama, and then plunge in and taste, taste, taste!

What Are the Mullu Khuyas?

A few people have asked me to write about the chunpi khuyas, which are more formally called the mullu  khuyas. Let’s start by examining the terminology.

Chunpi means “belt” in Quechua, In the mystical tradition this refers to the four “belts of power” of the energy body. More on that later. . . Depending on which Quechua dictionary you are using, the word may be spelled with an “m,” as chumpi.

Khuyas as stones that are infused with your affection. The word “khuya” literally means affection. The five chunpi khuyas are infused with your sami, personal power, and munay. In this way, they are holy stones.

Mullu refers to the spondylus, otherwise known as the thorny oyster or spiny oyster. As far back as 4200 BC, the shell of the spondylus was used to make sacred or ceremonial items, and during the Inka Empire was fashioned into jewelry for the royal families. Chunpi stones were originally made from f this shell, which ranges in color from dark red to an orangey pearlescence. There is some indication that this shell was prized even more highly than gold. There was plenty of gold in Peru, but the spondylus was scarce. It lived only in the waters off the northwestern coast of Peru, and most of it was probably imported  or traded into Peru from what is now Ecuador and other countries north of Peru. The flesh of the oyster was considered as the food of the Gods.

While I am not going to overview the karpay that weaves the energetic belts—the chunpis—and opens the mystical eyes—the ñawis—I will briefly go over the belts. There are four of them: one is around the lower trunk of the body, called the yana chunpi or black belt; another is at the belly area, called the puka chunpi or red belt;  the  belt at the chest and heart level is called the qori chunpi or gold belt; and the one around the throat is the qolqo chunpi, or silver belt. When you open the three eyes of the head—the two physical eyes and seventh eye in the middle of the forehead—you pull in violet energy, so this area around the head at eye level is sometimes referred to as the kulli chunpi, or purple belt, although it is not formally considered a belt.

To perform the karpay, which is called Chunpi Away (the second word means “to weave” and is pronounce rather like “ah-why”), you are literally creating the belts, weaving them into your energy body. They do not exist before they are woven in the karpay. Also, they made fade over time, so it is a good idea to perform the karpay occasionally and to work the belts often. Each belt contains an “eye,” called a ñawi. These already exist in your poq’po (energy body) but they are awakened during the chunpi ceremony. This aspect of the karpay is called Ñawi K’ichay, which literally means opening the eyes.

The only other point I will make about the karpay itself is regarding the black energy that is pulled down the spine and then wrapped around the hips and through the legs to make the yana chunpi. What many people don’t realize is that this is willka energy. Willka is the black light energy that is considered by many paqos to be the highest expression of sami in nature. In the karpay you actually make willka! This is accomplished by pulling gold and silver cords of cosmic energy into the head and down the spine, crossing these cords of light at the neck, and then pulling green earth energy up into the root of the spine and up the spine to the base of the neck. When you have these three cords in place, you then blend them into black light energy and pull the black light down the spine to make the yana chumpi. The important point of understanding here is that when you integrate cosmic energy and earth energy inside the human body, you make willka energy.

There are five mullu khuyas used in the karpay to weave the belts. Each has a specific number of points or protrusions, from one to five. The names of the stones follow the sequence, using the Quechua word for that number (but beware that dialects of Quechua vary). The stone with one protrusion is called ch’ulla. According to some scholars, this word means “single foot.” The two stone is called yanantin. This stone doesn’t use the literal number of the points as a name, as yanantin refers in the mystical tradition to the complement of differences—to two things that are different but that can be integrated harmoniously. The stone with three points is kinsantin, literally “three.” The one with four points is tawantin. Tawa means four, but of course this word is loaded with meaning. The Inka Empire was called the Tawantin because four nations were integrated into one Empire. It also refers to the sacred integration of four factors. A despacho, or nature offering, is always based on a tawantin. Many other aspects of the mystical work are based on a tawantin. Finally, the stone with five protrusions is named after the number five, pisqantin. (The picture is of my set of mullu chunpis, which, according to the estimation of my teacher, Juan Nuñez del Prado, were probably made in the late 1800s. The stones are pretty large, with the five stone filling the palm of my hand.)

Although these khuyas as used during the karpay to weave the belts, they are not necessary. Remember, nothing outside of your own intent and personal power are necessary in the Andean mystical tradition. If you think that you lose the power to perform the karpay because you don’t have a set of these khuyas, then you are turning them into fetishes. Energy follows intent in this tradition, so you can perform the karpay using only your intent to follow the the instructions for weaving the belts and opening the mystical eyes. If you receive the karpay from someone who has a set of mully khuyas and uses them in the karpay, but you don’t have a set yourself, no problem either. You can later refresh the belts using only your own intent and following the protocol of the karpay.

So that’s something about the mullu khuyas. If you have questions about other aspects of the Andean path, I am happy to try to answer them and share what I have learned about the tradition.