What Is In My Mesa?

What is my Mesa? ~ A Short Memoir About My Mythic Mesa.

  Approaching the East direction of the eighth Andean medicine path in which I have participated or assisted, I had an opportunity to reflect on the question, "What is my Mesa?".  I was completing yoga teacher training, in a session where I had just finished teaching a group yoga class and I was blowing the gratitude of this experience into my Mesa, a fellow yoga student gently asked, "What is that little pillow you always bring with you?"

   In that moment, holding my full, fat, fertile Mesa in both hands onto my heart, I had a moment of clarity that allowed me to see with complete Eagle vision all of the things that my Mesa was, had been, and could be.
  I saw my neophyte paco self remembering the first time I had to cautiously answer that question with faltering rimay, "It's my sacred energy healing bundle." 

  I saw myself as a teacher, sharing mindfulness practices with children, sharing hands on healing tools and techniques to adult practitioners, sharing subtler energy manipulation methods to advanced healers stating concisely, "The Mesa or Misha is a transportable sacred altar that contains a collection of stones called kuyas which hold the energy of the highest manifestation for each of my energetic tools and practices."

  I saw myself on the spiral path persistently deconstructing myself, shedding unworthy habits, releasing and releasing and releasing all that no longer serves me to continually reconstruct myself and aligning with my healed state, blowing all of that time and time again into one holy stone becoming a kuya. I saw all the places and times I had done this in medicine path directions and alone on mountains, by rivers, at cemeteries, at temples, in journeys, under trees, and so many rainbow lit hallowed spaces in my desert. I saw each and every one of the giving and receiving of the rites connecting me to the Luminous Ones; on Pachamama, in the Spirit world, inside my Chakras, in the far reaches of the Cosmos, in the lives of the Ancestors and the Descendants of the time to come, in the bellies of stars, in the memories of ancient civilizations, in the web of the Lineage, in the forming of our planet, and in every existence of the molecules inside each of my kuyas. I saw this and my heart said, "It is a retreat home for my soul."

  I saw myself giving it my rage and my compassion, my tears and my laughter, my pain and prayers, harboring in it the full range of my human experience and thinking, "It is my counselor, my therapist, my mentor, and my role-model."
  I saw all the times I opened my Mesa and fed it, consulted it, connected it to my teachers, guides, guardians and angelic realms, plugged it into the Kawsaypacha, created the dream of new possibilities with it, offered it gratitude for achievements and offered it the amorphous hints and clues about the paths that are still unfolding for me and I felt in the stardust that created my bones, "It is the portal where I meet the Universe to co-create reality."

  I saw my internal and eternal little, laughing Buddha self grinning with clear wisdom and joy about the nature of the limitlessness of my medicine, about the infinity of existence and playfully offering its koan reply, "What ISN'T my Mesa?"