As I recorded in my post on the Glastonbury Munay-Ki, I felt a surprisingly strong ‘call’ that I should visit Iceland.
We had gone on a late night ‘pilgrimage’ up Glastonbury Tor, as part of the Munay-Ki course. I say pilgrimage because we made our walk in silence and in a sacred fashion. Our ‘Spirit of the Inca’ course leader, Chris Waters, led us up the Tor, occasionally stopping to ask permission from the guardians of the place to pass through their mystical portals.
I struggled to climb the steps up the Tor, which was a surprise, considering I had scaled much greater heights and at a much higher altitude in Peru but it felt like I was carrying a lot of extra weight (both literally & figuratively!).
Once inside St Michael’s Tower, on the top of the Tor, Chris suggested that we announce who we were to the guardians of the place.
The Tor has long been associated with the myths of King Arthur, whose knights always seemed to be off on some sort of quest and so Chris invited us to ask a question of the guardians.
I looked up through the Tower to the open sky above, announced that I was ‘Dan Waller’ and asked what my new quest should be.
To my surprise, I suddenly ‘knew’ that I should travel to Iceland and that I needed to commune with a whale, but I had absolutely no idea what such a communication would be about, or how exactly it might be achieved! I just knew that I had to try.
Chat with a whale? Right, I thought, this shamanic work just got a whole lot weirder! I had actually often thought that I might visit Iceland but my main aim had been to go to see the Northern Lights, a beautiful natural phenomena I had been luckily enough to glimpse one night in Canada.
As the Munay-Ki course continued, there were several reminders of Iceland – a moving article about Iceland rallying to take in refugees in ‘The Independent’ (c.f. my post on the Glastonbury Munay-Ki); conversations about Iceland’s impressive ‘green’ credentials; assorted mentions from people on the course and from Chris. In fact, the call seemed to be consistently reinforced.
Once I got home from Glastonbury, I was acutely aware that I had to book a flight as soon as I was able. Even though I would be a little too early for the Northern Lights, I realised that I simply could not wait. The sense of urgency was profound.
My first night in Iceland, I made my way up the hill next to my hotel to the extraordinary Perlan (‘The Pearl’) restaurant – a huge glass dome tops the vast tanks which supply Reykjavik with its hot water, turning something mundane into something breathtakingly beautiful.
The interior was even more impressive and the restaurant itself slowly revolved to afford stunning views of the city and out to sea.
I was a little surprised to find whale meat on the menu, which did not seem like the right choice for me, considering my quest! For a moment I did consider the potential communion of eating their flesh – musing on the attachment a hunter or fisherman has to the food he places on the table, which is so lost to my generation of supermarket, pre-packaged consumerism. Yet, no, I knew that it was not for me.
I was later surprised to discover that whale meat is not a traditional food source in Iceland. There is actually no history of whale hunting in Iceland. Whale meat has never been a regular food source (unless dead whales happened to drift on to the shore). Instead, whales had been a revered creature by this nation of celebrated sea explorers.
A further revelation was my discovery that the whale hunting which is carried out by Icelanders today (restricted and monitored by Greenpeace) is largely to provide this particular menu option for tourists. I felt a little sickened that visitors could so subvert the culture of a nation, which had enjoyed a harmonious relationship with these special creatures for centuries.
Was this the reason I was here? To publicise this cruel fact? As I ate, I realised that I still had no idea why I had travelled to Iceland – it seemed crazy that a ‘feeling’ I had in Glastonbury should have brought me out there…
The following morning I attended a coach tour of the city. This included a visit to the imposing Hallgrimskirkja, a 73 m high church, which took 40 years to build. Directly outside was Leifur Eiriksson’s statue – an Icelandic explorer considered to be the first European to visit North America, long before Columbus. The statue was a gift from the USA.
In the afternoon, I went down to the harbour to join a whale watching tour. It was to be an amazing experience.
Not long into our journey out to sea, a pod of porpoises suddenly began to launch themselves repeatedly into the air in front of our boat. Our guide was astonished – he explained that you might see one or two jump like that but that he had never seen a whole pod leaping.
They were a joyful sight, far removed from the antics of dolphins I had seen performing tricks at Sea World or Windsor Safari Park, as a boy. I felt that this could only be a good omen for my quest.
There are various explanations as to why porpoises launch themselves out of the water. Some experts believe that they do it to stun prey with the shock waves they create, others believe that it is a form of communication. I prefer this latter explanation – they were saying ‘hello’ and I loved them for it!
Our guide had seen a whale surface the previous day and I was oddly ‘aware’ that there was one close by, even if I could not see it. Suddenly, much like the ‘call’, I just knew that it wanted to communicate that whales and dolphins had knowledge to impart to us humans and that, somehow, the Munay-Ki could assist us in achieving this. I also ‘knew’ that it had something to do with the third rite, the ‘Seers Rite’ – the one which I had difficulty in performing on the Glastonbury Munay-Ki course.
The Seers Rite seeks to draw new luminous cerebral pathways between the brain and heart, in order that we might ‘see through the eyes of the heart’ and into the shadows. I had thought that my struggles with mastering this rite and with ‘opening my heart’ on the Munay-Ki course were to do with the barriers I had thrown up in the wake of my divorce but I was now certain that these difficulties had served to highlight that I had something more to discover about this particular rite. Indeed, it was now absolutely clear to me that this was the key rite which had prompted my Icelandic quest.
Thinking about how these creatures might be incorporated into the rite, I remembered how Dr Richard Bandler (the creator of Neuro Linguistic Programming – NLP) used to get us to re-imagine endorphins as ‘en-dolphins’ – coursing through our veins to deliver that wonderful rush of euphoria and a natural inhibition of any pain signals. The derivation of the word ‘endorphin’ is from endogenous and morphine, indicating a ‘morphine-like substance originating from within the body’ and, thus, we were asked by Dr Bandler to spontaneously manufacture this chemical within ourselves and to imagine it moving as tiny dolphins swimming through our veins.
I realised that this visualisation technique might easily be adapted to the Seers Rite, with a shaman suggesting the image of dolphins swimming along the new cerebral pathways to those receiving the rite. Perhaps often-derided ‘whale music’ would be a good choice of background music too…
The following day I visited the Pingvellir National Park – where, from AD 930, the world’s first democratic Parliament, the Alping, was established. Here, the entire population of 60,000 people would gather to hear laws and settle disputes (sometimes by combat!). It poured with blinding rain but the dramatic setting was somehow enhanced by nature’s awesome display.
Then we moved on to Gullfoss (‘Golden Falls’) – a powerful two tier waterfall. It was here that one of the first ‘green’ activists, Sigridur Tomasdottir, saved the falls from being drowned by a dam project by threatening to drown herself in them.
There was more spectacular natural displays in the Geyser Hot Springs Area. Stroker (‘The Butter Churn’) reliably erupted into a 15-30 m high spout every few minutes to whoops of delights from the gathered tourists.
Next up on my trip was the country’s most beautiful geothermal spa – the Blue Lagoon. Set in a desolate lava wilderness, the lagoon’s deep blue water is breathtaking to behold. At 37 degrees C, the water was like a hot bath and it is rich in blue-green algae and mineral salts, so is wonderful for the skin!
Relaxing in the Blue Lagoon, I ‘journeyed’ and enjoyed a deep communion with my power animal, my wolf, which just seemed to confirm my feelings about the Seers’ Rites and why I had been prompted to visit Iceland.
When I opened my eyes it began to rain and the drops, a different consistency and viscosity to the milky blue water, briefly became pearls on the surface before gently dispersing. Magical.
I had time before my coach returned to explore the stunning landscape around the Lagoon – marvelling at the blue, superheated seawater from the power station coursing through the dark lava.
I was particularly struck by the sight of a conical mountain, which seemed to resonate with great power and, again, I felt a strong connection to the power of nature. Perhaps not surprisingly in such volcanic surroundings?
On my final day I explored Reykjavik and found a black cone monument near the Parliament building…
The plaque fixed to it celebrated the importance of civil disobedience. Bold, I thought, considering its proximity to their place of law-making.
Reluctantly, I left this extraordinary country, hoping to return some time soon. I felt excited by my revitalised connection to the natural world and I suppose I believed that my quest, given to me at the Glastonbury Tor, had been fulfilled.
However, more revelations were to come…
When I returned home, my friend and fellow shaman, Susan Earl, asked if I realised that Hawaiian shaman regarded dolphins and whales as ancient ‘record keepers’.
I had no idea of their significance and she suggested I read the book ‘The Bowl of Light’ by Dr Hank Wesselman about the Hawaiian shaman and kahuna wisdom-keeper, Hale Makua (pictured in the portrait below).
I always find it interesting to hear about other shamanic traditions and I love both the synchronicity with my own Incan path and the alternative perspectives that they afford.
I learned that, like the Inca, the Polynesians believe aliens or ‘star people’ are a matter of fact, rather than scientific conjecture. Humanity itself is said to have originally come from the stars and the Polynesians assert that the whales and dolphins were special guardians who accompanied us on our journey across the universe to this beautiful blue planet…
Furthermore, these creatures are said to carry the knowledge of both our purpose and our destiny. In the book, Hale Makua reveals that this shared wisdom is twofold:
“First, we were brought here to enjoy ourselves – to grow, increase, and become more than we were in the beauty of nature on this wonderful world. And second, we are to remember our divine origins through the experience of love for one another”
(p.137, ‘The Bowl of Light’, by Hank Wesselman, published by Sounds True, 2011).
What a beautiful sentiment and one which is completely in tune with the Incan path I have been following. I felt, more than ever, that what had seemed mad – a ‘call’ to hurry to Iceland – had been a magical gift of enlightenment. Munay!