As a new Mesa carrier and apprentice in the shamanic arts, I wondered how I could fully embrace the PMT path in a college town surrounded by the din of traffic, my partying neighbors, and many distractions that compete for my attention. While I await my cabin in the woods I have limited space for my Mesa in my small apartment. This was a long-standing concern. But I have made a little corner for it and its growing denizens and teeming energy. Eventually I plan to get my Mesa its own little room so that it can grow along with me as we journey together on my earth walk. In the meantime, I’ve figured out that it’s not the space, it’s the spirit (and heart) I put into it that truly matters.
I try to get my nature fix regularly. Stanley Park in the city of New Britain is near me so it is my go-to place to draw in vitality from Pachamama and to marvel at some of my family: the stone relatives in all of their shapes and sizes; the tree people who provide me shade from the elements and magnificent flora to admire; the fauna, like the bunnies merrily hopping about, sometimes competing with squirrels for foraged acorns; the winged ones who flutter from tree to tree as they tweet; and the other two-leggeds who walk around the park enjoying the fresh air, each other, and the scenery.
The park has two quadrants that I frequent and they both suit me just fine. Here in the summertime is my favorite time of year when the tree people have grown in their garments, and the twittering birds compete with each other to create a beautiful symphony that is rather soothing to my sometimes rankled nerves.
I started to notice a lot of debris building in the park over the years. Sometimes I wondered where my tax dollars were going since the small piles of trash were increasing in number and no one seemed to care. I wondered why people were so cavalierly throwing their bottles, empty packets, and other things on Pachamama’s skin with no deference. Do they not know she is alive—a sentient being? Three years later nature’s spirits asked me if anything had changed since I last complained to myself, and I replied, “No!” I was then asked why I didn’t just start picking things up. I scoffed at the idea: “Who wants to be anyone’s cleaner, much less that of strangers?” I was made to understand by the Unseen that I wasn’t being asked to clean up after other people—it is Pachamama who needs me to help her out. Who knows, it may even start a trend among other two-leggeds.
I have not been as devoted to this service as I should be because I have travelled extensively over the past 12 months. But whenever I can, I walk through the trail picking up trash in my garbage bag. At first I was embarrassed and didn’t want anyone to see me doing it. Now I love this thing that I do and wish I was around to do more. I’ll do more to assist Pachamama now that it is getting warmer. I may even build a little apacheta here if I get another Mesa carrier to do it with me. Also, when I travel, perhaps I will find a local park that needs a little extra TLC; it’s always good to make new friends among the fauna and flora outside of where I live. And I do plan to visit apachetas when I travel to make an offering.
When I am done with my minor contribution of trash picking I sit back or I take a walk, knowing that Pachamama gives to me much more than anything I could possibly contribute
The place to know more about who we are as a growing community. We welcome all Antisuyu writers, story tellers, artists in this space. To submit your piece: Blog