Claiming Our Personal Power

In my last two posts we explored our Inka Seed, which is an energetic structure within us that contains our potential to develop every human capacity to the highest level. We can develop ourselves consciously until we are seventh-level beings, which means godlike here in the human form. I like to use Sri Aurobindo’s phrasing to describe what each human being is: we are where “God-Spirit meets God-Tocuhing God compressed Pixabay 1976544matter.” We have the potential to express our God-Spirit right here on Earth in this singular human lifetime.

Building on this concept, in this blog post we will examine personal power. Developing ourselves means acquiring more personal power: the power to love ourselves just as we are now, the power to be resilient no matter what challenges we have faced or will face, the power to know and express our unique selves, the power to bring our gifts to the world and appreciate the gifts of others, the power be of service and to allow ourselves to be served, the power to be the influence our own destiny, the power to dare to be divine.

Power. Power. Power. Just what do I mean by personal power?

Not dominance, control, authority, or supremacy over others. Not muscle, clout, toughness, brawn, or force.

Personal power is our ability to take responsibility for ourselves without excuse. Personal power starts with knowing ourselves, but it expresses itself in how we bring ourselves to the world moment by moment, day by day. As don Juan Nuñez del Prado said, at a minimum personal power is “being able to do something regardless of the circumstances around you.” At a maximum, as don Juan also said, it is “being able to do anything—but through ayni. Personal power is in service to yourself and others.” That is an important point: personal power through ayni (reciprocity) is never just about ourselves, but about how we use our power in relation to others. We benefit ourselves and others.

Our karpay is our personal power. Karpay means a transmission or sharing of energy—in this context the sharing of who we are according to our current state of being. You could say that we are what our personal powers are, for we cannot bring to the world what we have not yet become of the owners of within ourselves. Two of the most egregious errors we can make are underplaying and giving up our personal power. As novelist Alice Walker said, “The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.”

We each certainly have power. However, we may not be aware of our power, which, at heart, means we don’t have clear consciousness of our current capacities. Most of us woefully underestimate our capacities. If we cannot or will not acknowledge our full capacity at the current time, then why should anyone else? If we do not claim our power, we not only sell ourselves short, but we also purposefullyzipper reduce ourselves and limit what we can bring to the world. We should make no excuses for our present state of grandeur. And I do mean grandeur! That is a word—along with “glorious”—that I purposefully use with my students, because that is what the training in Andean mysticism is all about: growing our grandeur, becoming more and more glorious. We should have no false humility about what we have far so developed within ourselves. Taking responsibility for ourselves means truly owning all of who we are while also being honest about how much more there is within us that remains to be developed and expressed.

Personal power is both what is inside us and how we bring ourselves out into the world. As don Ivan Nuñez del Prado tells us, “Karpay is your capacity to share your power with another person.” And since our power equates to our available personal capacities, we have to know ourselves, be ourselves, and express ourselves as we are right now. For, as don Juan says, “the only thing we can share is our personal power.”

In the training, the very last practice is that of raising the amaru (anaconda). By doing so, we consciously externalize our personal power. Our amaru is outside of us, but it represents what is currently inside of us. It is the energy of making our karpay available to others and to the world. It is knowing ourselves perceptually and being perceptive of other people and the larger world around us. Where our perception of the inner and outer meet is an integration point from which we marshal the will to act in the world. As don Ivan explains, “With don Melchor, in the last step of the training—when you build the amaru outside yourself—that is the tukuyllank’aynioq. That is the power of the magician to be able to generate and feel energies outside yourself and address them—make them do things. That is the amaru.”

The tukuyllank’aynioq is the total owner of action. To become the “total” owner of our karpay means that moment by moment we know what we want to do, assess whether we have the personal power to do it, and then act or not according to that knowledge and assessment. Don Juan has said time and time again that our practices help us to “accumulate personal power.” This means developing more and more of the capacities held within our Inka Seed—turning what was only potential into actuality. However, using our personal power effectively requires that we know how to “measure” our power so that we can be realistic about our capabilities.  The mystical capacity we use is qaway: clear-seeing. If we want to do something, but fail to realize that we do not have the power to do it, then we not only frustrate or disappoint ourselves, we will likely fail.

Hesitation, procrastination, or fear about doing something are normal human emotions under certain conditions, and they do not have to reduce our power. We can feel them even when we have sufficient personal power to take action. Not having power means something different: it means that despite what we feel, we have not yet developed the capacity to realize a desire or fulfill an intention. We lack the requisite abilities.

That said, I think most of us will agree that we have a lot more power than we think we have. And, we will not discover if we do have a particular power until we try to use it. If we fail, no problem, because if we are motivated, we can use that failure to adjust or course correct. That is how we learn to develop new abilities. The tragedy of the self is when we have untapped powers and never dare ourselves to risk their realization. Our will is in our Inka Seed, the same energetic structure that holds within it this potential power that is waiting to be unleashed. We do not have to wait for other people’s approval or for outer circumstances to align on our behalf before we dare ourselves to express more of our grandeur. Our In light of successreadiness comes from inside. For, as the novelist Eudora Welty reminds us, “All serious daring starts within.”

For me, among the most important forms of “daring” is to resist any impulse to keep ourselves small: to not capitulate to what others want us to be or expect us to be, to not question how our culture asks us to conform to its norms, to not bring self-inquiry to the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves that restrict our full measure. Daring asks us to see and know ourselves as Taytanchis (Creator) sees and knows us. Taytanchis sees and knows all of us: our current abilities and our potential to be Creator’s ranti (equivalent) while here in this world in human form. So, I suggest that even as we realistically measure our current karpay, we also dare ourselves to look in the mirror to see our glorious potential. If we don’t see ourselves as Taytanchis sees us, then we must keep looking, and looking, and looking . . .

All About Your Inka Seed: Part 2

I ended Part 1 of this discussion about the Inka Seed with a few lines from a Mary Oliver poem. Now, I start Part 2 with lines from another of her poems, which is called “Sometimes.” She writes: “Instructions for living a life: / Pay attention. / Be astonished. / Tell about it.”

For the purposes of our discussion of the Inka Seed, rather than just telling about our capacities and experiences as human beings, I would amend that last line to “Act on it.” For paqos, kanay means not only knowing who we are, but having the personal power to live as who we really are. That means being fully engaged in the world.

As I said in Part I, we are working toward expressing more of the fullness of the self that is held in potential in the Inka Seed. Our personal power—our karpay—is measured by how much of our capacity we have available to use and express right now. There are many Quechua mystical terms that refer to how we put our intentions and capacities into action. They define how we understand the energy dynamics related to our Inka Seed. So, let’s take a look at some of these energy dynamics.

What might first come to mind is the energy dynamic of ayni: the interchanges we make with the living universe, the natural world, other human beings, and more. Ayni often is described as reciprocity: we have a conscious or unconscious intention that we send out into the world and the living universe reciprocates energetically. But intention is only part of the interchange. Ayni is intention applied. To put it another way, ayni is intention followed by action. As don Ivan Nuñez del Prado stresses so frequently: “No action, no ayni.” We don’t just think about calling a friend, we call. We don’t just intend to improve how we engage with someone we don’t really like, we actually make the effort. We don’t just intend to strengthen a relationship with an apu or a ñust’a (or any spirit being), we actively work to cultivate mutual communication.

Once an intention has been put into action, then the energy dynamic continues in that we must be aware that the living universe, the spirit beings, or our fellow human beings will provide a response or feedback. We don’t fixate on watching for that feedback, but we do remain perceptually open so that we can consciously register any feedback. Once we receive that response, we might realize we are being asked to refine our intention and adjust our actions. Then we begin a new cycle of ayni. Ayni involves many aspects of ourselves, but at the heart of all our ayni flows is our Inka Seed.

Ayni asks us to source from our Inka Seed. The whole cycle of ayni requires that we be in dynamic relationship with our personal power, which is another way of saying with our Inka Seed. But how exactly do we get in touch with our Inka Seed?

Let me start by saying that we are always in touch with our Inka Seed. Everything we are right now, we are because we are expressing some of the potential that is available to us. Yet, it helps to be concrete, rather than conceptual, about how we engage our Inka Seed or source from it. This goal requires that we use other kinds of energy dynamics.

The Andean tradition is a path of conscious evolution, so our work always starts with self-inquiry. One concrete way to gauge how well we are relating to our Inka Seed is to bring self-inquiry to how we are using our three human powers. These are yachay, munay, and llank’ay. Here I will talk only about yachay and llank’ay, and for reasons of space limitations the discussion will be rather brief.

Yachay refers to knowing—to thought, reason, logic, intellect. More specifically, it refers to what we learn through personal experience—not just through any experience, but from first-hand experience. Our yachay is not what we learn through second-hand sources such as conversations, books, lectures, YouTube videos, blog posts (such as this one!), and the like. It is what we know because we have experienced it or perceived it directly.

As a consequence, it is obvious that yachay and llank’ay are tightly correlated. Llank’ay is action. You know because you have experienced something. Of course, we can accumulate all kinds of valuable knowledge from secondary sources, but they are not yachay. We may know all kinds of things about starting and running a successful business, but until we actually start and run a business, we won’t know if we have the capacities available to us to be a successful businessowner. Although there are all kinds of factors that affect the success or failure of a business, a major one is our access to our Inka Seed. If we succeed, then that likely means that we have accessed and learned to use the necessary capacities from the vast store of capacities held within our Inka Seed and to capitalize on other factors outside of ourselves that helped support our business. If the business fails, it would be remiss not to bring self-inquiry to ourselves by asking how our lack of ability might at least partially have contributed to the demise of the enterprise.

Both success and failure can be amazing teachers if we use each as feedback about how intention and action work together. For example, sometimes we want something so badly (the intention) that we rush to do it before we are truly capable of doing it. We misjudge our atiy, which is a capacity at the root ñawi (siki ñawi) where we “measure” our power. The Quechua word atini (or in one variation, atinim) means “I can” or “I can do it.” But the truth is that sometimes we cannot do—or are not ready to do—what we set out to do. Sometimes we passionately want to do something, but a barely conscious or completely unconscious belief prevents us from taking action. Or, if we do act, we sabotage ourselves. Perhaps we procrastinate starting a business or we unconsciously undermine our own efforts because somewhere deep down we are running the limiting belief that we are not worthy of success. Each of these dynamics tell us something about how we are in relationship with our Inka Seed. If we go within and pay attention to the flux of energies we are running, we are being shown how we have or have not yet accessed the qualities and capacities of our Inka Seed that are relevant to manifesting a specific intention.

In this context, atiy is how much of our Inka Seed we have so far realized and are capable of using. It is our karpay, our personal power. And personal power is what we are accumulating in our walk through life. We move from mostly unconscious base impulses to directed intention, and ultimately to conscious action. The journey of self-development is the unfolding process of accessing more and more of our Inka Seed’s potential and bringing it through our atiy and out into our lives and into the world.

Self-development itself is a conscious choice, and as such it takes us to the very heart of the Inka Seed, because the Inka Seed is the repository of our will. Will is an energy dynamic. Don Juan Nuñez del Prado explains self-development, especially as relates to atiy and will, this way: “Will in a certain way is the center of the other pathways, according to don Melchor. Will is something conscious. Like the saying, ‘where there is a will, there is a way.’ Will belongs to your conscious mind. Atiy is more from your unconscious, and it is very basic. It is what we call an impulse. An impulse is something very basic. . . . It’s a spark, but it is a tiny spark that comes from a very basic part of you. Yet because of that it can trigger a lot of things. When you use that spark, you can trigger anything! But to move beyond that basic spark, you need another path. This is the will, and it is related to your Inka Seed. The Inka Seed contains all your potential. The Inka Seed is your Spirit, which drives everything—your impulses and everything. It owns your being, your Spirit does. Your potential is everything you can become, everything you can realize in your life. This potential is a driving power in itself. Because this potential [as a thing in and of itself] wants to develop—it is willing to be expressed or manifested. It triggers every possible thing that can happen or be expressed through and by a human being. Through the will of the Inka Seed, you move the living You Body Spirit Soul Mindenergy. You learn to express what is in you, what is in your own Inka Seed, and to send that out into the world. That is the whole goal of the Andean path—to express your whole self, all that is within you.”

Don Juan and don Ivan call the Inka Seed our inner compass, which is always pointing to true north. We can think of our Inka Seed as our truth-meter, because, as don Juan also says, “Your Inka Seed will always tell you the truth.” Your true north is how you bring yourself to the world:  what you are here to express and contribute. Your true north is different from my true north, or anyone else’s. We are each unique in that way. But the process of discernment of our personal true north is the same for all of us—we perceive it through our body. Remember that our wasi—the house or temple of the self—is comprised of the poq’po (which we think of as the psyche, the mind both conscious and unconscious), the physical body, and our Inka Seed. In don Juan’s words, our Inka Seed is the owner of our wasi. To discern what the “owner of the wasi” is trying to tell us, we listen to our body. The mind informs the body. The body then records and transmits through feelings how our psyche, especially our unconscious, is either aligning us with or deflecting us from our Inka Seed.

It is almost always our psyche that causes us to create hucha. We may be running scripts in largely unconscious ways that undermine what we consciously intend. These scripts can run the gamut from “I am so talented that there is no way I can fail” to “Dad always told me I was a loser, and I probably am.” We have all kinds of limiting beliefs, and this subject is much too complex to do to justice to here. But these are the kinds of energies deep down within ourselves that are difficult or impossible to access directly. We perceive them indirectly. And the body is one of the best ways to read the inner script to reveal how our hucha can steer us away from aligning with the true north of our Inka Seed.

Knowing this, we can now turn all of these concepts and energy dynamics into a practice. By developing a perceptual sensitivity of our body, when we set an intention or are about to take action, we can drop into our body and viscerally feel whether we are in alignment with our Inka Seed. Do we feel inner resonance? That is our Inka Seed pointing to true north. Our truth-meter is pointing to “Yes.” Do we feel inner dissonance? That is a clue that we are acting contrary to how our Inka Seed is telling us to drive our energy. When we feel an inner dissonance, we would do well to bring self-inquiry to our intention and delay any action until we can achieve some measure of insight about what is causing the dissonance. Exactly how inner resonance and inner dissonance feels will vary for each of us. But if we learn to discern the difference between the two states, there will be no mistaking one for the other. So, while it takes time and practice to develop the perceptual sensitivity of how our body is revealing our alignment or not with our Inka Seed, it is well worth the effort.

In terms of the energy practices related to our Inka Seed, a related question is “How do I access and express more of my potential?” The primary answer is that every practice we learn in the Andean tradition is devoted in the most fundamental way to helping us more fully, deeply, and easily access our Inka Seed. We have more than thirty practices that are each designed to help us develop. Each one is in some way helping us open to the greater potential of our Inka Seed. If we know and understand the specific goal ofK'intu Lisa Sims cropped compressed each practice, then we will be able to choose and use the perfect one for a specific situation. And, practicing the entire protocol of the Andean training multiple times will help us develop a greater mastery of our inner state.

Using all of our Andean practices, we initiate the process of phutuy—the flowering of the Self. In this case, it is the flowering of our Inka Seed. The tradition tells us that our practices are enough, but I believe that coupling our energy techniques with some form of insight-related psychological work (such as Jungian shadow work) can supercharge our perceptual awareness and self-development. I have found that using both approaches—energetic and psychological— speeds up the process of increasing our karpay so that we can truly express our kanay. We can more robustly know who we really are and have the power to live as who we really are. After all, kanay—which is the expression of our Inka Seed—not only is the promise of the Andean paqo path, it is the realization of it.

All About Your Inka Seed: Part 1

In the Andean mystical tradition, the essential energy dynamic is that of the qanchispatañan: the stairway or pathway of the seven levels of human consciousness. It actually is eight steps, since we start at the zero level, that of the purun runa, or the natural, undeveloped self that we all are as infants. We develop physically, psychologically, intellectually, and emotionally, such that we become increasingly self-aware and increasingly free agents of creating “who we are” as adults. Even though we are shaped by many external forces, such as family, culture, environment, and more, part of the developmental process is our ability to self-regulate: to choose our responses to all these influences (that is, if you believe in free will, stages-of-life-cropped Pixabay 1287959_1920which many contemporary scientists do not). How we self-regulate places us on a “stair” or “level” of the qanchispatañan.

While we bounce around from level to level on the qanchispatañan depending on our response to specific real-time situations, events, interactions, and such, we can generally identify ourselves as having reached a certain level of development in our overall sense of self, beliefs, behaviors, and other personal characteristics. Space prohibits my detailing the qualities of consciousness at each level of the qanchispatañan—both those deemed to be generally beneficial to our functioning in a sami-filled way (being in ayni, or reciprocity, such that we are supporting our own well-being and that of the people we interact with) and those seen as potentially detrimental and thus causing us to produce hucha, or heavy energy (lack of ayni such that we are more interested in our own well-being at the expense of others). To learn more about the qanchispatañan, please see my post “Birds of Consciousness,” posted on May 11, 2016. However, what is important to understand is that we cannot say we have achieved a level of consciousness until all three of our core human capacities—yachay (intellect/thoughts), munay (love under our will), and llank’ay (actions)—are each developed to that level.

The qanchispatañan is the map of our journey of personal growth, and what we are seeking to develop is the Inka Muyu, or Inka Seed. Inka refers to the male ruler of the Inca Empire, so we could translate Inka Muyu as Seed of the King. For females, the term would be Qoya Muyu, or Seed of the Queen, but this is not a term you ever hear used, so I will use the more common term of Inka Seed, although I use it in a gender-neutral way.

While the energy dynamics of the Inka Seed are primary in our practice of the Andean mystical tradition, just what is it? The remainder of this post will answer this question from several perspectives, some from outside the tradition and some from within it.

First, the Inka Seed is an energetic structure that sits in the middle of our physical and mystical body. The tradition teaches that we have seven ñawis, or mystical eyes, each of which are associated with core human capacities. The four core ñawis are located in the trunk of our body. The eye of the neck—the kunka ñawi—comprises the capacities for yachay (reason and intellect, especially as developed through first-hand personal experience) and rimay (the integrity of how we express ourselves and of how we communicate our personal experience and knowledge). Below that is the sonqo ñawi, the eye of our heart. The connection here is not to our physical heart but to our feelings, especially to munay. Munay usually is translated as love under our will and refers to our ability to make the choice to be kind, compassionate, and loving. Further down is the qosqo ñawi, eye of the naval or belly, which is the center of our personal power and khuyay, or passions. Passion in this sense relates to motivation, to what moves us from intention to action. Khuyay also is related to emotional attachments, to what we focus on and choose to relate to and how we do that in either healthy or unhealthy ways. At the root of our body is the siki ñawi, which is the seat of both our atiy (our ability to take action in the world and the timing of our actions) and our impulses, which are the mammalian aspects of ourselves, including our base emotions (such as fear, dominance, competitiveness, defensiveness) and our core survival needs (such as food, shelter, procreation, nurturing or relationship).

Our Inka Seed sits in the middle of these four ñawis, situated between the two upper ñawis and the two lower ñawis of the trunk of the body. It rules from the center of the mystical self. Or, in the terminology of don Juan Nuñez del Prado, the Inka Seed is the “owner” of our wasi, which is the “house” or “temple” of the Self. When we integrate the sami of our Inka Seed with the munay at our sonqo ñawi (our feeling center), we stimulate the energetic capacity of kanay, which means “I am” and comes from the rootidentity self-worth pixabay compressed-g4e6c4c066_1920 Quechua word that means “to be.” Kanay is the capacity of knowing who we are and who we have the potential to become if we choose to grow into the fullness of our humanness.

Second, we situate the Inka Seed at the center of the inner and the outer—of how we relate our inner world to the outer world. So, let’s look outside of the mystical realm for a moment to see what one view from psychology tells us about this aspect of our development. Chris Allen, PhD, in Psychology and Human Relations, provides a useful accounting of the processes that contribute to our forming a wholistic sense of self within and without ourselves. What he has to say correlates well with the three universal human powers, so I will insert those powers into the quotation. Remember, we have to develop all three of our human powers equally to move up a step on the qanchispatañan. Allen writes, “The I first sees itself as an embodied actor in social space [munay and ayni]; with development, however, it comes to appreciate itself also as a forward-looking source of self-determined goals and values [llank’ay], and later yet, as a storyteller of personal experience, oriented to the reconstructed past and the imagined future [yachay]. To ‘know thyself’ in mature adulthood, then, is to do three things: (a) to apprehend and to perform with social approval my self-ascribed traits and roles, (b) to pursue with vigor and (ideally) success my most valued goals and plans, and (c) to construct a story about life that conveys, with vividness and cultural resonance, how I became the person I am becoming, integrating my past as I remember it, my present as I am experiencing it, and my future as I hope it to be.”

This psychological process requires that we develop several core traits at a minimum: increasing levels of self-awareness, an enhanced ability for both introspection and action, an empowered sense of personal autonomy, a refined use of our will, an expanded aptitude for both self-critique and self-acceptance and self-love, and the ability to bring ourselves to the world with integrity.

Moving back to the mystical developmental journey, we will find that as we bring increasing mastery to our ability to be who we are right now (kanay), we simultaneously increase our ability to express more of our potential. So, third, we can think of the Inka Seed as a kind of information field that encodes within it all that it is possible for us to express—the full measure of what is means to be a human being. As we work to consciously develop ourselves, we can think of each level of the qanchispatañan as an increasing ability to express more of our human capacities—to access and express more of our Inka Seed. The way I like to describe this evolutionary process of conscious development is that as we climb the qanchispatañan, we are not better than we were at a lower level, we are more than we were.

How far can we develop? How much more can we be? This brings us to the fourth point about the Inka Seed—it also encodes our metaphysical self and is equivalent to our Spirit. At the moment we are conceived, we are created both from the DNA of our parents and from the energy of Spirit, or for convenience’s sake what I will call God. As don Juan terms it, we are a “Drop of the Mystery.” Literally, whatever “God” or “Creator” is—everything that It is—is held in potential within our Inka Seed. I express the promise of this aspect of the tradition by quoting Sri Aurobindo, who was the developer of Integral Yoga. He said that we humans are where “God-Spirit meets God-matter” and “divinity is in the body.” Through the Inka Seed, we literally are God-Spirit in the flesh, for the Andean mystical tradition tells us that the full expression of our humanness is to express God-like capacities while in the body and in this world.

That we are ranti (energetically equivalent) to God is why the Inka Seed is pure sami—it is always and only the light living energy. It has no hucha, or heavy energy. Our Inka Seed is always connected to, and being fed by, a stream of this “God energy” through the pukyu, a small energetic opening at the turn of the top of the forehead. So, the Inka Seed literally is both a repository for and a source of the light living energy within us. As don Juan says, it is our capacity to one day express our God Within. If we so choose, we can consciously develop ourselves by removing our filters and screens (hucha) so that we block none of the light living energy that is flowing into our Inka Seed and we also block none of the light living energy emerging from our Inka Seed. The flow of sami is both into us and out from us to the world and our fellow human beings. We seek to allow ourselves the full measure of sami so that we can express our kanay—who we really are.

Until we express the fullness of our Inka Seed, we are functioning as a reduced or partial version of ourselves. This is what karpay means. While this word can be translated as “initiation,” it more accurately means how much personal power we have available to use at any given moment. Personal power is comprised of our yachay, munay, and llank’ay and the quality of each of these three core human capacities. Stepping up the qanchispatañan means we have more of our capacities available for our use and that each of these capacities is more highly developed or refined. So, to summarize this point, another way to understand the qanchispatañan is that our place on it reveals the measure of our power, or karpay. With each step up, we have accumulated more personal power; we have increased our karpay. We have done so because we are living more from our Inka Seed. Our increased personal capacity means we can be in ayni—making conscious interchanges with the living universe, spirit beings, and our fellow human beings—more effortlessly and with greater efficacy.

If we reach our full karpay, this means we have ascended to the sixth level of the qanchispatañan: we will be perfectly expressing both our human nature and our God nature. We will be “enlightened” human beings. But we still will retain our unique expression of Self, our unique expression as a Drop of the Mystery. We would each be an individual expression of the enlightened state. Buddha and Jesus were both considered enlightened human beings—they had fully developed Inka Seeds—but they were decidedly different manifestations of the enlightenment state, and there is no mistaking one for the other.

Thus, it is not too grandiose to say that we each are a unique expression of Creation. In Islam, Iman Ali was credited with saying, “Dost thou reckon thyself only a puny form / When within thee the universe is folded?” As don Juan has said, if we are not living our kanay—if we are not each individually expressing who we really are—than we are leaving our part of Creation unrealized. The metaphor I use is that we each are a thread in the tapestry of Creation, and if we are not fulfilling our individual expressions of our Inka Seed, then we are leaving holes in the fabric of the Whole.

How can we think of the Inka Seed—this tiny energetic structure—as being of such enormous importance, of containing within it such enormous potential? To answer this question, I make the comparison to DNA. DNA is a tiny energetic structure that is a huge information field. It encodes within an infinitesimal physical container the mind-boggling complexity and grandeur of the human body and psyche. In the same way, the Inka Seed is a tiny energetic structure that encodes the astounding beautybean seed germination and power of the physical and metaphysical expression of ourselves.

I will conclude Part I of this discussion by reminding you of two core metaphors of the Andean tradition—wachu and phutuy. In the Andean tradition there is the concept of the kawsay wachu, which can be translated as “field of living energy.” A wachu is a furrow in a field in which seeds are planted. For those of us using the techniques of the tradition to develop ourselves and climb the qanchispatañan, the metaphor shows how we each are a seed (Inka Seed) planted in the metaphysical field of living energy and in the material realm of Pachamama. Our impulse, just like the impulse of all living things in nature, is for phutuy—for life, for growth, and literally in this metaphor for “flowering.” We are seeking to germinate our Inka Seed and grow to our full potential. The living universe provides the sami—the nectar or water—that feeds our Inka Seed through the pukyu so that it can flourish: so that it can germinate, grow, and blossom to reveal each of us in all our glory.

How do we engage with our Inka Seed and stimulate our growth? That will be the topic of Part 2 of this discussion, which will be posted next month. Here, I leave you with a question from “The Summer Day,” a poem by Mary Oliver, that brings together the points made in this post and provides a teaser for what will come in next month’s post: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?”

The Yanantin of the Solstice

Many of us soon will be marking the solstice, a day when the “sun stands still.” This literally is the meaning of the two Latin roots from which the word “solstice” comes. There are a multitude of Sun winter-Petra - Pixabay -3323879_1280ceremonies being held for the solstice, both for marking the start of winter and honoring this as the day of the year with the longest period of darkness. We see this solstice as a metaphor for going deeply within and emerging anew—as a kind of shamanic or spiritual journey of death and rebirth. Our metaphor is based on ancient metaphoric overlays, such as the winter solstice marking the death of the sun and its almost immediate resurrection. We connect it with the rhythms of nature, especially with plants that go dormant or animals that hibernate, experiencing a physical cessation of outward activity even while within they are recharging themselves for reentry into life.

But the “sun standing still” cannot be understood in a singular way. A solstice is a yanantin event: what for some people is a descent into darkness is for others an emergence into the light.

I think many of us forget that a solstice is the same event with completely different effects (and meanings and metaphoric overlays) depending on where you are in relation to the sun. A solstice marks the exact moment when half of the Earth is tilted the farthest away from the sun. At that same moment, half theSunrise-Thomas Picabay 954604_1280 Earth is tilted closer to the sun. So, for those of us living in the Northern Hemisphere where the tilt is away from the sun, the December solstice marks the first day of winter and is the day with the longest period of darkness. But for those in the Southern Hemisphere, who are tilted toward the sun, this solstice marks the first day of summer and is the day with the longest period of daylight.

Yanantin is a relationship of two dissimilar but complementary energies, entities, or characteristics. Light and dark. Up and down. In and out. Love and hate. Joy and sorrow. Body and spirit. Each aspect of the duality maintains its innate individual character, while together they make up a unified whole, usually a whole that is greater than the sum of the parts. The challenge when experiencing a yanantin is perceiving the unity within the apparent duality. That unity is the japu (Quechua), or the harmonious relationship of the two different aspects into a singular wholeness without subtracting anything from the completeness of each of the two energies. As writer Alan Watts says, and I think as most paqos would agree, “Every explicit duality is an implicit unity.”

The yanantin nature of a solstice is a reminder of how so much of the Pachamama—in this context meaning the entire physical world or cosmos—is comprised of yanantins. There are the distinctly physical yanantins, such as the juxtaposition of light and darkness at a solstice or the great ayni and yanantin of birth and death. And there are the distinctly human ones, such as feeling both the joys and pains of life or of our capacity to be both kind and cruel. We are yanantin beings both physically and psychologically (and in many other ways). I concur with screenwriter Joss Whedon’s opinion that “to accept duality is to earn identity.”

The core duality in relation to having identity is the distinction of self and other. For example, we negotiate the twin impulses of knowing and living as our authentic selves and of blending our sense of beingness into a shared communal identify. That yanantin is the motto on US currency: E pluribus unum: out of many, one. That is an ideal—a statement of a japu—and it is, of course, still an aspiration in the puzzle-Piro - Pixabay 3476931_1280United States. But it does remind us of another important yanantin—that the world is both “out there” and “in here.” Each of us chooses how to be in the world, and the state of the world is the way we present our combined individual selves as a collective.

At the risk of stating the obvious, if we don’t like the state of the world out there, because of the nature of the yanantin we must look within ourselves to find the causes and to make the requisite changes. The state of the world—our collective expression—reflects our individual yanantin energies: we each are both light and dark, both sami and hucha, both beatific and horrific, both awake and asleep. Just as the solstice is both a period of long darkness and of long light depending on where we are on the Earth, each of us is both long in darkness and long in light, depending on the state of our inner “tilt.”

What are we tilted toward and away from? Our inner sun is the integrated Inka Seed (what we might call our drop of Creator or divine spirit) and sonqo ñawi (the energetic seat of our feelings, especially our capacity for love/munay). Together, these are the center of our mystical selves, and they are comprised only of sami, the light living energy, the most refined frequency of kawsay, which is the life-force energy. The Inka Seed and sonqo ñawi have no hucha—they never produce any heavy living energy, which is slow or sluggish sami/life force. Thus, when these two aspects of ourselves are integrated, they act like our “inner sun,” illuminating our sense of self and together generating our capacity for “identity.” One of the terms in Quechua for this identity is kanay, which roughly translates to “I am,” although it is imbued with the energy of the unfolding self, with the process of becoming who we “really” are. When we achieve kanay, we say that we not only know who we are but we also have the clarity of vision and the personal will to liveOpposites dark light tunnel-Joe Pixabay 7484734_1920 as who we are (rather than as how our culture or others see us or want us to be).

I hope you will notice that when I ask “what are we tilted toward and away from?” I used the conjunction “and” instead of “or.” We are simultaneously partially in touch with and screened from our kanay. None of us are fully developed human beings, what in the tradition we would call beings of the sixth-level of consciousness, which is the level of the enlightened ones. At the sixth level we have reached japu (inner unity), but until then we are struggling to harmonize our yanantin aspects. The dual aspect of a solstice—where half the world is experiencing the darkest day of the year and the other half of the world is experiencing the brightest day of the year—is an apt metaphor for our yanantin inner world. The japu is that this yanantin it is all about the sun, which is always and only a source of light, although when it is screened, we experience shadow and even darkness. When in the shadows, we might forget that darkness is only possible if there is first a continual, stable light source.

The Inkas were the Children of the Sun, but for those of us on the Andean path today, it is not the physical outer sun that concerns us, but our inner light—our sami, which is the light living energy. As less than enlightened human beings, we have put up screens and filters around our Inka Seed so that our kanay energy is diminished or partially deflected, or even stalled or blocked. Einstein said that nothing happens until something moves. So, at this solstice, during this fleeting moment of “standing still,” perhaps as part of our ceremony we might undertake a self-examination of the yanantin nature of ourselves and our lives so that we can work through our darkness and shine with our greater light.

Part of our self-inquiry might be asking the following questions: How far am I tilted toward the self-illumination provided by an integrated Inka Seed and sonqo? How far am I tilted away from acknowledging and taking responsibility for my hucha? What are the causes of these deviations from my center, and what would it take to realign myself or course correct? How do I choose to move into the next season of my life?

Acknowledging and taking responsibility for our hucha—for how we are slowing the flow of or even blocking the movement of our life-force energy—is a glorious endeavor, for it helps us realize that there is unlimited light living energy available to us and within us. Perhaps as we honor and mark the solstice this year, we could take speaker, author, and former pastor Rob Bell’s advice to heart: “Why blame the dark for being dark? It is far more helpful to ask why the light isn’t as bright as it could be.”

Gratitude as Action

Thankfulness is the beginning of gratitude. Gratitude is the completion of thankfulness. Thankfulness may consist merely of words. Gratitude is shown in acts.

– Henri Frederic Amiel, Swiss Philosopher and Poet

I am grateful that I live in a nation that sets aside a day of thanksgiving. And . . . you know what I am about to say . . . every day is a perfect day to appreciate our blessings. Among my favorite aphorisms is one I saw posted on a message-board outside a small, rural North Carolina church: “Millions of people are praying for what you take for granted.”

Kind of stops you in your tracks, doesn’t it? It did me.

We who have so much tend to take our bounty for granted. So as our Thanksgiving Day approaches, let us explore gratitude not as something that we need a national holiday to prompt us into feeling, but as thanksgiving-stilllife compressed pixabay 2903166_1280an aspect of our kanay—of our beingness—that permeates all that we think, say, and do.

The English word “gratitude” comes from roots meaning “thankfulness,” “pleasing,” and “grace.” It is usually defined as our feeling thankful for all the good things, people, and situations in our lives. But just feeling gratitude does not do justice to the meaning of this word. As the Amiel quotation at the top of this post reminds us, gratitude is thankfulness in action.

From the Andean mystical perspective, gratitude engages all three of our human powers, which are yachay, munay, and llank’ay. Yachay is knowledge gained through personal experience. It is the doorway to gratitude, for we experience something and feel good about that or even feel blessed by what happened. We are uplifted by having had that experience. The experience could be anything: from winning the lottery to meeting an amazing person to overcoming a bad habit to surviving a terrible accident or a dire health diagnosis. If our acknowledgment of our good fortune is not fleeting, as most emotions are, then it blossoms into a deeper feeling.

Feelings take us to our power of munay, which is love under our will, the conscious choice to think, speak, and act from love. It is the capacity at our sonqo, which is the energetic heart center. The sonqo is the center of our feelings, and munay in its fullest expression is the pinnacle of human feelings. However, munay can be expressed along a continuum of intensity, from tenderness at one end of the spectrum to devotion at the other. If the energy of gratitude expands from our thoughts into our feelings, then we really begin to “own” the state of gratitude as an aspect of our kanay, not only as how we know ourselves but also as a power that we are capable of expressing out in the world. We not only feel gratitude, but can act from gratitude. As American writer William Arthur Ward once said, “Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.”

What does it mean to be gratitude in action? I claim no expertise! This is work I continue doing within myself. But I can imagine that like munay, gratitude expresses itself along a spectrum, in gestures small and large, and everything in between. To act from gratitude is to make the choice to find something, no matter how small, that is “pleasing” in every person and every situation. We don’t have to wear rose-colored glasses, repress heavy feelings, or deny reality, but even taking a homeopathic dose of “pleasing”grateful-Pixabay - John Hain 2940466_1280 can reduce the power of a knee-jerk judgement that a person or situation is going to be difficult, disagreeable, upsetting, or challenging. Through the choice to acknowledge that there is something “pleasing” even in the ugliest of situations, we make room for the “grace” that underlies gratitude. Grace cannot be earned. It is not offered only to those whom we deem worthy or deserving of it. Grace is given from one person to another freely, without condition. Grace may be what gratitude in action actually is: If we are looking, grace may be the crack through which we glimpse even the tiniest light of something “pleasing” shining through and into our awareness. As the Leonard Cohen lyric goes: “Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack, a crack, in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”

However we choose to express our gratitude and to act from that gratitude, I think that if we keep practicing it eventually we come to a realization, as the Buddhist proverb goes, that “enough is a feast.” That proverb may have been referring to material possessions, whereas I am applying it to what we think of ourselves and others. I am suggesting that by acting from gratitude, we change not only how we engage others and life, but how we engage with ourselves. Gratitude shows us how we are always already “enough,” whatever condition we find our life in or whatever the current state of being we are experiencing. We each are a feast of enoughness! If we really believe that, then we will give thanks for whatever measure of grace we are capable of offering in our relationships, our work, our service, and more. And if we believe we are “enough” right now, just as we are, then we increase our capacity to receive grace from others. This is the ayni, or reciprocity, of gratitude as action.

When we say we are looking for a spiritual path to follow, whether it be the Andean tradition or some other tradition—I say that we don’t have to look for a spiritual path. We already have one. Our life is our spiritual path. An “attitude of gratitude,” as the saying goes, is among the spiritual superpowers—not just as an attitude in our thinking and feelings, but in our actions. The biblical concept of spiritual gifts as charismataTwo love hearts in being protected in a nest. Conceptual design is defined as “grace coming to visible effect in word or deed.” One of the aspects of the Andean tradition that I love most is that it is rooted deeply and firmly in the human world. We are seeking to develop ourselves not just for our own benefit but to the benefit of others and as a visible effect in the world. When others develop themselves, we benefit from their having made the choice to have their own sami-filled visible effects in the world. Again, this is ayni. Practicing gratitude as ayni prompts us to look and engage both inwardly and outwardly: we recognize our own uplifted state and we acknowledge the source person or event that fostered our upliftment. Through the continuing cycle of ayni—which is always a two-way exchange—we can then give back what we have received.

So, as we gather around the Thanksgiving table, let us realize that “enough is a feast” and find something pleasing “enough” in everyone and every event—and then let us express it through our actions. If Uncle Joe is telling the same old family story again, for the tenth year in a row, let him know that the yearly retelling has created a tradition and a person has to be pretty special to create a tradition. When the gravy runs out—as it inevitably does—instead of complaining or looking accusingly at those who overindulged to everyone else’s expense, compliment the chef on a spectacular gravy that is always, without fail, every year, the most popular food at the feast. Of course, there is no “gratitude” unless it is real and in integrity. But seeing the “enough” in everyone and every situation always, somehow, in some amazingly unexplainable and magical way, fosters just enough gratitude that by its own force it easily flows out of us and into the world. And for our choice—and ability—to do that, we give thanks.

Postscript: My gratitude to all the seekers and light-bearers who have attended my classes this year and in years past, and who follow this blog. I am enriched by you as I hope you are by me. May we continue to work together to create a sami-filled forcefield that spills out with visible effect in the world.