by April Rameé | Sep 16, 2013 | Poetry, Travel
I sit a top your peak
Looking out to the sister peaks.
Carvings created over time.
Force, gentle, monumental.
La luna peers down and lights the path.
Gazed upon a cross emanates into an infinite web.
Opening into your essence,
The thousand petal lotus blossoms and surrounds your beauty.
Beams of light display the path in sweet shadows and united curves
You give way from the sharp blazin path true and fast in the solar light.
I bow to your beauty, the grace, your ever elusiveness.
Sister spirit, sister soul, I honor your blessings.
by April Rameé | Sep 15, 2013 | Travel, Yoga
Day 1- Day 2
Friday, September 13- Saturday, September 14, 2013
Flying into the belly of the mountains. Cuzco
Flying over incredible mountains we swoop low and begin descent. Peering out the window, wide-eye and full of joy, the plane takes an immediate turn to the left and I view the Valley of Cuzco. Flying right into the belly of the mountains I can barely contain my joy in my heart. My first time out of the United States, floating from my pervious travel experiences and deep commitment to my personal yoga practice, into the Sacred Valley of Peru. This world is beyond magical! An effortless arrival to Hotel Encantada by a taxi, thanks to the amazing Giancarlo and Hawah, who create an amazing retreat experience but not thanks to my short breath and badly acclimated lungs to the mountains.
View from Hotel Encantada
Day Two: After an evening of a hot stone massage, sleep, delicious food cooked by Giancarlo, and cocoa tea, I awake fresh and new ready for a beautiful yoga experience facing the mountains of the valley. The sun shining so beautiful and giving me more vitamin D, which according to my doctor I need more of at all times. Please let me oblige, I am not called a sun chaser for no reason! Hawah leads a beautiful practice each and every time I step to the mat in his workshops, classes, and now this retreat. Feeling the connection in my soul, breath, and body we embark upon a journey to discover the town of Cuzco.
First is the famous church in the main square, Cathedral of Santo Domingo. I am not one for touristy type locals and of course my attention span grants me many diversions off the main path. In true amazement I gaze upon the old part of the church which the ancient Incans created, not the part that was embellished upon by the Spaniards, I am not impressed by their work. The Incans on the other hand stacked stones together without any mortar. I notice the number 3, 4, 5, 7, and 12 appear in many different forms.
Random fact: I like counting and noticing numbers. I drew something in the ground at the rainbow room. I am not sure why but here is a picture.
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My random drawing in the ground at the rainbow room at the Incan temple.
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The beautiful Prana appreciating and touching the amazing stones the Incan’s laid down without mortar. His expression is exactly how I felt as well.
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Cave Entry
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Exiting the cave. I would really like to do some really cave exploration.
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View of the Temple of the Moon where women went together to pray for fertility.
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Looking up in the temple of the moon.
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View from the top of one mountain
Following this expedition the bus takes up high up on the mountain more, the altitude sickness kicks in hardcore for me at this moment. All the cocoa leaves can’t help this headache, the pains, and shivers going through my body. This is no joke! I keep up with the group as we hike further up the mountain, go through caves, and explore the Temple of the Moon, Sun, and Monkeys. By the end of the day I am so ready to curl up by this fire in the pizza joint, eat some bread, and relax. However at some point after dinner I regain my composure and I am ready to go out on the town! Hawah, Mayrose, Giancarlo, Ameilia and I rock it out in the San square with drums, flute, hoops, dance moves, joy and laughter. An amazing way to complete the evening and I even stumbled upon the famous 12 angle stone on this wall in downtown Cuzco. Here is a picture of me fluting, serenading the ancient Incas and more importantly the women in the street selling the local wares.
12 angle stone on the street of Cuzco
Day Three
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Waking up this morning with the new resolution to not partake in cocoa leaves and just learn to acclimate myself is fresh on the mind. I feel so great today. I think my body prefers hot tea and just delicious food over cocoa leaves. I do not partake in many stimulants and I think the leaves are throwing me a little off kilter. We shall see how this theory works throughout the day since we are hiking up high into the mountains in Pisaq but not before a visit to the animal sanctuary. See photos below:
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Parrot on the wire
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Flight of the Condor
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Condor Feeding
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Yay! Spirit Animal. I receive a good licking and kiss from this one 🙂
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Just walking around…minding my own business. Watcha doing?
Our arrival to the quaint town of Pisaq on a bus is easy and the beauty in this town is phenomenal. The town is a locals town, there are tourists, but we are not all over the place. Our bus takes us to our accommodations for the next four days, Melissa Wasi. This place is so beautiful! More like a retreat center than a hotel. Ameilia, my roommate for the entire trip, and I set up our little cabin room. It is quaint, cozy, and rustic with large windows facing out in the Eucalyptus tree forest overhead and beautiful tended grounds with flowers, grass, and birds chirping in harmony and glee. Hawah leads an invigorating and leg focused yoga class on the backyard lawn of the main house. This makes me happy because my legs are my weak point in yoga. I focus on that area a lot to gain more flexibility. I am still trying to get my head to my knees, a new goal from just touching the ground with my hands. Not to mention we are about to embark upon a hike for the remainder of the day up the highest mountain/elevation so far in the trip. Higher than Machu Picchu and there are still Incan ruins at the top. After a delicious lunch by Ginacarlo, which let me take a moment to say how grateful and amazing this trip is to have our own Peurvian chef creating native delicacies in a vegetarian format, we start the hike. This hike doesn’t start at the base of the mountain rather at the retreat center. We walk to town, through town, and then to the base of the hike. By this time, I am starting to realize going up is going to be challenging. Bracing myself for a long climb I start up the mountain. The side we chose to begin on is the side most people go down. There were many steps, a bridge, and growing terraces of ancient Incan agricultural plots. There are couples laying out in the sun on the terrace, locals descending down the mountains with wild harvested herbs, cactus, and flowers. Next time I come, I want to be with a lover, having a picnic, and enjoying staring down on the town. Hopefully I will be more knowledgeable about local herbs and will harvest some of the beautiful plants available at such a high altitude.
More panoramic views
After a slow ascent to the top, taking in such amazing views, me and some of the slower hikers, make it to the top and meet up with the rest of our group. The ruins at Pisaq, the view, and this mountain climb is so beautiful. Each step towards the top is invigorating, providing me with fresh crisp air. As a group we circle up just before the sunset to share our gratitude, challenges, and love for the moment. Being around the amazing humans on this trip is truly a gift. As I watch the sun set behind the mountains, listening to the group, each person teaching me valuable lessons of myself, the world, and the beauty of life.
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Part way up Pisaq
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Retreat Leader Hawah and I
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My loves! The most amazing group of human beings 🙂
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Sun burst, Laurie, Giancarlo, & Susan
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Headstand at Pisaq Ruins
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The ruins and I.
Sunset Circle of gratitude
The group prepares to turn around and make the descent down the mountain. I slowly follow behind, not sure if I am ready to come down the mountain yet. Less than halfway down a bright start comes into the sky and I am frozen in my tracks.
Saturn and Mountain
Sitting down I start to wonder so many questions, am I selfish for wanting to stay on this mountain? Am I being a good person in the group? Who cares what I want to do and is it really valid? Am I going to ruin the whole group experience? I notice the group is getting far ahead and begrudgingly I begin to descend down the mountain again. I walk towards Hawah waiting for me to come back and hike down the mountain, each step a tear comes to my eyes. By the time I am standing next to him, I am in full cry mode. Where did this come from?
Side story: Just recently I experienced a moment where I broke down in a sob, tears, a real hardcore cry. I realized in that moment that even though I cry more than most, because I like to let go of the emotions that create this reaction in my body, that I do not nearly allow myself to let go and sob. I couldn’t remember the last time I allowed myself to just let go, not worry about what any one thinks, not worry about what I think most importantly, just let go and sob hysterically. From this experience I learned for myself I allow society to dictate my comfort level with allowing my inner emotion to shed light on the true feelings within. Something I thought I was good at, but obviously not. Due to this experience, I took a glance in Hawah’s direction and said, “I am not ready to come down this mountain. You can leave me here. I promise I can make it back safe, but please allow me to stay.”
On the side of the mountain the stars start peeking out one by one just like the doubts, questions, and concerns for who I am as a human being. I sit atop that mountain with Hawah, discussing down falls, or ways I do not think I am a good person, words a friend spoke to me recently that stir emotions deep within on my values, the ability for me to be a team player, and the lone wolf within. This leads into a silent meditation off alone confronting my inner demons, how I operate in group settings, the way I create distance in my life from everything, experiences, people, and nature. This moment sitting here faced to face with the mountains surrounding me, La Luna gracing me with her soft delicate power, and stars blinking bright in the sky. Stars that do not look so far away, the lessons of the mountain echoes through the soul, through one of the best moments on the mountain, realizing the “star” that initiated my curiosity to see the rest of the night sky on the mountain, is actually a planet as Hawah mentions. I am sure this planet is Saturn, the ruling planet of my zodiac sign, Capricorn, the teacher, the taskmaster. We watch this planet set in the mountain range and disappear. I realize the lesson of the mountain, time moves so much faster on top of a mountain. When we are down low we think the mountain is moving slow, but the reason why mountains can be so big, stay for so long, and have such an impact on the world is due to the fact time moves faster on a mountain, making days and years seem to fly by and not noticing how slow in relation you are moving. You see the sky move by faster, the sun set sooner, the moon rise, the stars fly by at a pace that makes you realize how fast we are actually moving in this galaxy, the universe, the expansiveness and relatedness of time is evident in this moment. The lesson of the mountain: hold your ground, stay true to your soul, life is moving fast and each second is so precious. Remember that once you climb there is always more to go, more ranges, more valleys to dip into, more mountain peaks, higher and higher, lower and lower. There is no end, there is no time, but there is infinite time.
I want to stay but hunger, thirst, and longing to be a part of the group wins out. Next time I plan on spending the night or more time on this mountain. I think staying on a mountain in Peru is a must in this lifetime. Watch the full spectrum of night, morning, day, and everything in between occur on top of a mountain. As we climb down the mountain this time smiles grace my face. I am forever transformed and grateful for the friendship and support within Hawah for accompanying me on this journey and the group for understanding. Best part is coming back to Melissa Wasi and the group being happy to see us, cheering, and so happy to hear the tale. I love this group!
by April Rameé | May 20, 2013 | Death, Mystical
Thursday morning driving home from Mysore practice, feeling content, breezy, easy and light. Driving along the light turns green before me, I follow behind the traffic and then boom, boom! I struck a human being with the car. He came out of no where, running into the street wildly as if trying to kill himself. My windshield crashes into the car, glass shards stab my face, legs, arms, and fall into my mouth. My teeth clenching glass, then my jaw falls. Mouth wide open screams bellow from inside my soul. I exit my car, stare at the man on the road, not moving, bleeding from his head. What did I do?! Shock and adrenaline takes over, I am out of my body, the scene is too much to take in as tears stream down my face and my world shatters.
For the past few days the images, sounds, and smells of the day haunt my very existence. I space out at moments and jolt back into the world when someone calls my name. How can I go back to my life before? How do you move on from striking a human being with your car? It doesn’t matter that it isn’t my fault and that he was caught stealing, running away from authority; it still does not change the truth.
I saw the Dalai Lama today in Kentucky and he said our sensory experience, even in the most harmful and painful situations, must be left on the surface level of sensory experience and to not allow it to go deeper into the emotional mental state and upset the flow of contentment. Creating compassion for all sentient beings. That no one seeks suffering. Suffering which is caused by ignorance. Rising above all forms of ignorance is possible because knowledge is attainable. I meditate on these words at this moment.
Below though are the exquisite, poetic words from one of the witnesses of the day, Michele. She was a saint who offered me compassion, affection, and love within such a critical moment in my life. Her words describe the event better than I can at the moment.
What I Didn’t Tell the Officer
May 16, 2013, 7:52am
A pool of goopy blood crowned him like a halo, his head awkwardly pressed face-down against the pavement. I got down on my knees beside him, held his elbow, and told him there were people coming to help him. His long eyelashes fluttered, but I could only see the whites of his eyes.
His back lifted slightly and swiftly up and down from the street and I said, “He’s breathing, he’s breathing,” loudly, to no one.
Another man knelt down beside me and carefully cupped the injured man’s forehead and started talking to him like he was his brother. “Don’t move! I know it hurts, man, but you’re better off not moving. Don’t wanna make things worse. You’ll be alright. Help is coming. We’re here. Pleeease don’t move.” I felt a wave of silent peace wash over me. He will comfort.
I stood up and slowly turned around my own axis, taking in 360 degrees of the Georgia and New Hampshire Ave intersection through a thick glass of tears and confusion. What an expansive and wild place. It wasn’t flowing anymore, it was teeming. Hundreds of cars everywhere, now backed up, pedestrians standing in groups watching and adjusting to get a better view of the scene. Then the metro stop, buses. There were a thousand other lives moving through the world, in this place, at this time. With me and the man in the middle.
I looked at the windshield, which was now the biggest frost star of interconnected glass shards you’ve ever seen. Ominous and intricate.
My eye caught one of the man’s sneakers stuck under the bumper of another car many yards away. When the man took flight in a majestic and powerful side-bounce off the windshield, his shoes had snapped off and sailed through the air in a triumphant arc.
This image of sublime and elegant design delivered in such an impartial manner, was for me a backstage peek at the real, untamable, and terrifying face of life. We are all, always, almost dead. But who can live that way?
The helping man was now talking with the young woman – my age – who had been driving the car. She was sitting on the curb, sobbing and disoriented. And he was crouched down in front of her, holding her face, looking her straight in the eye. “You need to know that this is not your fault.”
I really hope she remembers.
The “blood saint” had sprinted at high speed and unexpectedly into oncoming traffic. Why? What had the early morning brought him to open up this reckless move?
When the police, ambulance, and fire trucks came, the timeless quality of the moment stopped and an incredible process took over. A well-oiled human machine of police officers and first responders directed traffic, secured eye-witness accounts, cut off the injured man’s clothes, moved him onto the stretcher, and mopped up the blood. Strong and empathic officers were talking to the driver now, helping her think through whether she was hurt. One step at a time, they called her work, called her friend, encouraged her to go to the hospital, just to be safe.
I continue my bike commute. Cars honk at me and get impatient. This is nothing new, but I am different. Don’t they know they are steering killing machines? It seems to me that sober reverence is the only appropriate disposition with which to take on the overwhelming responsibility of being a driver. Or of being a pedestrian. Or a human in the world, just in general.
May I not forget. Everything is fragile, vulnerable, and already changing. But there is also a mysterious grace, and helpers who skillfully hold the pain. May I honor our fragility and our collective resilience and not take it for granted.
Daily Guidance Writings of Daisaku Ikeda
by April Rameé | May 3, 2013 | Poetry
VULTURES
By: April Rameé circa 2006
Warm sun on the skin.
Pigments darken as the warmth pours through the body down to the heart.
Cool gentle breeze runs through the hair.
Releasing a scent;
leisurely escaping into the already intoxicating, luxurious smell of the earth.
Brown eyes glaze over;
attempting to internally burn the image of beauty into the mind.
Fingers grip the base,
Thorns puncturing; as the warm blood emerges to the surface, trickling.
Saliva builds and taste buds inflame;
finger to tongue flavors of salt and sweetness.
Soft petals rise to even softer delicate lips; caressing.
Touch and smell beyond ecstasy,
entrancing the mind and the libido to past memories and blissfulness.
Head back an orgasmic breath liberates out of slightly parted lips.
Everything black.
Soul transcends and ascends toward the warm sun.
Vultures devour the fresh sensitive skin,
as the hair is tickled by the humor of the wind.
Brown eyes, glazed, pecked at by vultures;
searching to steal the memories of the mind.
Blood trickles down beaks in its escaping fury from the body.
Soft feathers rub against the lips; caressing.
Vultures steal the last breath.
Rejoicing in the sweetness of death; of darkness.
Their own personal beauty.
