The Time has Come.

Five years ago, when I sold my house, the first thing I did was book a trip to Peru. Actually, that’s not true. The first thing I did was buy a pair of Uggs (I know, so wrong but so right) The second thing I did was book a trip to Peru. It was part of my 50th gap year, I even bought a laminated wipeable wall chart year planner which was slapped on the back of the kitchen door in the flat I rented for that first year - not quite ready to be fully nomadic and still carrying enough maternal guilt to provide a roof over potentially visiting sons’ heads.

The whole of November was marked: P – E – R – U in glossy black Sharpie letters.

Inspired by my Qoya training, I was going with a group who promised access into sacred sites that white-privileged spiritual tourists wouldn’t normally have access to, along with sacred chanting by an artist whom I was already a fan of. What a lucky white-privileged spiritual tourist I was!

January into February was: I – N – D – I – A and March into April was: M – E – X – I – C – O and C – O – S – T – A   R – I – C – A. And later, courtesy of a long-distance relationship, July turned out to be: G -R – E – E – C – E  with a couple of trips to: S – W – E – D – E – N added in along the way.

Except I didn’t get to P – E – R – U.

Because not long into my (rather expensive and heavily foot-printed) year, I decided to postpone the trip in favour of investing more time and attention into said (long-distance) relationship. So much so that November 2019 actually turned into: C – A – M – B – O – D – I – A and V – I – E – T – N – A – M with Swedish boyfriend.

Thank goodness the wall chart was wipeable.

So, whilst Peru was on hold, I was loved up and hopeful that what I had sacrificed in adventuring to the land of the Inka’s, was going to be more than compensated by other exciting experiences, and the hope that the ‘long-distance’ part of the relationship wouldn’t remain so for long. Anyway, there was always next year when I would surely be more ready to work a solo trip to Peru into a more established relationship – hey, maybe he’d even want to come with me!

But that next year was 2020 and we all know what happened to plans then. Yep, they got postponed for another 12 months. OK, so November 2021 would be my trip to Peru. Meanwhile the relationship was struggling under the stress and strain of the long-distance element, and it seemed that, despite our best efforts, we were no closer to eradicating that part of it from our story. Carbon retribution perhaps.

But before I knew it, November 2021 came approaching along with a pre-Peru group zoom call. Third time lucky, the trip was happening. But what can I say, I just wasn’t feeling it now. I’d changed so much in the previous two years thanks to certain events in the world and I really didn’t feel aligned with the trip anymore and the group really did not feel like my tribe. I decided to cancel. I would lose my deposit, but I would save the hefty balance and my authenticity in the process. I’d already bought a campervan and was spending much of my time experiencing van life in Portugal. I also remained ever-hopeful that the still-long-distance relationship would have it’s happy-ever-after.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

OK, so that particular trip might have been cancelled but I could still go to Peru. The calling hadn’t left me. The winter of 2022 seemed like the perfect time to get away. But just as I was indulging in the fantasy of exploring sacred sites and immersing myself in the traditions of the people, it seemed I was also calling in another relationship, and consequently decided that a month in India with him (see last blog) would be a better option than a few months in Peru on my own. Sigh.

Again, that old familiar pattern of compromising my plans for the promise of love. Well, I am only human I suppose.

So, here I am now, 5 years and 2 relationships down. And I might have less money, but I have way more wisdom. And for the past 10 months, I’ve been taking an on-line course with the Q’ero – the indigenous Andean people from direct Inka descent. I’ve been learning their ways; about sacred reciprocity, about how to come back into right relationship with nature (and therefor ourselves), about how by objectifying nature, we’ve disempowered it (and therefor ourselves), I’ve been blessed, and I’ve made blessings, I’ve even learnt some Quechua. It’s really been quite profound.

November 2023 is here, and my ticket is booked. My long-planned-many-times-cancelled trip now feels like a pilgrimage. When does a trip become a pilgrimage? When there is intention, mindfulness and a sense of the sacred. And, in the spirit of reciprocity; rather than just taking a trip, I’m wondering what I can give to it too.

I don’t know when I’ll return, and I have no idea what will unfold. And, despite my ingrained western self-consciousness, I’ve been making nature offerings and asking for blessings, protection, and guidance on my path. Well, I wasn’t doing that five years ago.

The time has come.

Of course, it was always meant to be now.

I’m off to P – E – R – U.