In September, 2015, I attended the Spirit of the Inca’s training course in the Munay-Ki at Glastonbury. I had received the Munay-Ki rites during the Spirit of the Inca’s ‘Medicine Wheel’ course and, again, whilst in Peru but the Glastonbury course was to teach me more about the initiations, as well as the processes by which I can gift them to others. I’ve written a separate article about the rites themselves, so I won’t go into too much detail here, but I felt that I wanted to write something separately about my personal experience of receiving and gifting them, as well as something about the extraordinary ‘Isle of Avalon’ in which I received them.
For those who are unaware, the Spirit of the Inca group is led by Chris Waters (below, with Joe Molloy). Chris was originally a student of Albert Villoldo, an anthropologist who sought to re-package Q’uero Incan shamanic energy medicine practices for the West. Chris has studied with many shaman over the years and has developed her own take on the ancient practices. She possesses a beautiful energy and is deeply passionate about the work she does, fired by a genuine desire to encourage the world to become a better place. There is a touch of the ‘Earth Mother’ about her and she has always reminded me, personally, of the Headmistress of my old drama school, Redroofs, as June Rose was another great mentor in my life, as well as both being strong, feminine leaders. Chris would hate to be seen as a guru and encourages all her students to (symbolically!) throw their teachers on the fire. She would much prefer to be seen as someone who enables students to discover their own power.
Chris is ably assisted by a great teaching team and, chiefly, by Joe Molloy. Tall and long-haired, I suppose I thought of Joe as a bit of a hippy when I first met him. I quickly learned, however, that there was much more depth to him than such a charicature offered and, underneath the gentle nods of understanding, there is quite a mischievous little imp! Furthermore, Joe utterly refuses to ‘spoon feed’ his students and questions are invariably met by questions. This may sound infuriating (& to some of my friends, it most certainly is!) but I think it is important in this self discovery work to honour exactly that – to come to revelations through your own initiatives, rather than be guided every step of the way. Joe encourages and facilitates, rather than leads you by the hand.
On this particular course, we were also honoured by the attendance of two visiting shaman from Peru, Don Francisco and Chino. I had the pleasure of meeting and receiving the Munay-Ki rites from these two gentlemen on my recent visit to their homeland, so it was a pleasure to see them again. They are simply delighted to share their ancient practices and feel grateful that there is such interest in their healing work in the west. If you think the medicine we practice is inauthentic or is somehow ‘ripping off’ the ancient wisdom of indigenous people, you ought to speak to shaman like these two gentlemen before you raise your voice.
We stayed at Abbey House (above), which was built in the 1830’s but has been a spiritual retreat since the 1930’s. Extraordinarily, when the house was built, its grounds included the magnificent ruined Abbey, such was the lack of interest in its preservation. Nowadays, the Abbey is a sectioned-off tourist attraction but the House still retains privileged access via a side gate and the house’s main rooms look down the Nave. Chris pointed out that the ruins of the Abbey Nave, now, somewhat ironically considering Christianity’s predilection for masculine dominance and spire-building, seem to take the shape of a feminine chalice (below).
On our first day we were asked to pick a Pi stone (a piece of stone, shaped like a small donut), which represents the cycling energy of our luminous energy field. Mine was a plain, milky-white. It did not look like much. Yet, as so often happens with these shamanic rituals, it came to pulse with a tangible energy and I began to see into the depths of the stone and to find it quite beautiful. The first rite sets one upon a healing journey and links you with your Pi stone. Chris and Joe demonstrated the rite and then we performed it upon each other, which became the general format of the training.
The second rite introduces the bands of protection. I was familiar with these from the ‘Medicine Wheel’ course, as we would begin every morning by visualising the bands and our connection to nature. I feel these are important to a student of shamanism, particularly when journeying. I think that if you open yourself up to the world of spirit you have to recognise that there are malevolent entities, as well as well-meaning guides. This isn’t something that Chris likes to talk about very much, except with advanced students. I think her reasoning is that to focus on such things invites them in – better to install protection for one’s students and let them focus on the positive.
The third rite seeks to draw new cerebral pathways in order to ‘see through the eyes of the heart’. I struggled with this rite, more than any other. I think my divorce led me to put up so many barriers around my heart that it can be genuinely difficult to open it up again. Perhaps it should be no surprise, then, that I kept seeking clarification on how to perform the rite and that I felt ‘clumsy’ when gifting it. If you’re having problems with this work, you usually find that there is ‘something else going on’. As it happens, I was soon to feel a ‘call’ to go to Iceland and then, weeks later, once I had arrived there, I was to discover that there was a direct link with the call to this rite and with regard to the disconnection that I had felt in giving and receiving it. If I may, however, I’ll address what exactly it was in another post, one, which is specifically about my visit to Iceland.
A highlight of the training course, for me, was an evening walk up Glastonbury Tor (above). We made the walk in silence, which added to the sense that this was a personal pilgrimage. After passing the Red and the White springs (more of which, later), we passed into the field leading up to the Tor, which is connected with Gwynn ap Nudd, who, in Celtic mythology, was Lord of the Otherworld and, later, King of the Fairies. I wasn’t sure that I believed in fairies, despite having spent a considerable amount of time in Cornwall, where one feels closer to nature and to the mythical realm. Yet, whilst in the field, I certainly felt that curious sensation of being watched, not just by a single entity but by many.
It seemed quite an effort to climb the steps up the Tor that night and I wondered how I had ever made it up Wayna Picchu in Peru, a much longer and more arduous climb, with far less oxygen available to my lungs. I made a mental note that I should go back to the gym but reflected that I had already found myself pretty adept at putting off that particular notion for much of the year!
The church atop the Tor, of which, famously, only the tower remains, was called St Michael’s. It is no coincidence that the name of the angel who defeated Satan was chosen to top the pagan Tor – the Church often sought to ‘stamp’ upon places of pagan significance. It is on a key 350 mile ley line, linked with St Michael, which includes St Michael’s Mount, St Michael’s Borough, the Avebury Henge and Bury St Edmunds, where I used to teach. Looking up through the centre of the tower we each took turns in asking the ancient ones a question. I asked what my new quest should be and it was at this point that I felt a ‘call’ that I needed to travel to Iceland. I’d always wanted to go there to see the Northern Lights but, at this point, I couldn’t see what it had to do with shamanism.
Everyone filed out of the tower and, finding myself alone, I felt slightly uneasy and was moved to sing ‘Non Nobis’, which had been sung after the Battle of Agincourt, by order of King Henry V. The version I sang had been arranged by Patrick Doyle for Kenneth Brannagh’s film of ‘Henry V’, which had a deep affect on me as a boy, as Brannagh was a particular hero of mine and he was playing one of England’s greatest heroes. In the film, as the song is sung, an emotional Brannagh carries a dead ‘Boy’, whom he had known, across a body-strewn battlefield. I’ll admit I had a bit of a crush on the dead boy, ever since the actor who played him had astonished me in his debut role in ‘Empire of the Sun’. Most know the actor better today as ‘Batman’ – Christian Bale. Anyway, with apologies for digressing, the truth was that I did not know why I was moved to sing the song that night but I vowed to do some more research.
As we descended the hill, Chris explained that the veils between worlds were thin here and pointed out the Tower. As we looked back at it, it seemed to go in and out of focus. For me, impossibly, the bottom of the tower would sometimes become invisible, even if the top remained. In addition, we were told that the low lying damp ground can sometimes produce a ‘Fata Morgana’ – an optical illusion which seems to make the Tower rise from the mist (named, incidentally, after Morgan Le Fay, sorceress of Arthurian legend and so memorably played by Helen Mirren in the film, ‘Excalibur’).
On the way back through Gwynn ap Nudd’s field, I snapped a photo with my flash into the pitch black and I was surprised to discover, later, that the photograph showed a number of ‘light anomalies’, including a classic ‘orb’ and two ascending teardrops of light. I make no claims as to what is depicted but you can analyse the photograph for yourself (below), as well as in my previous post, ‘Mysterious Photographs’.
The next initiation we received was the Harmony Rites, which install certain Incan archetypes into the chakras, which assist in bringing a person into balance, as well as seeing the world afresh. Like the bands of protection, the archetypes were familiar from the ‘Medicine Wheel’ course and, as with the bands of protection, are similarly visualised each morning of the course. I, personally, find the ’embodying’ of the archetypes (e.g. slither on the floor like a snake, or prowl the room like a jaguar) too reminiscent of ‘drama games’ from my days as an acting student and I become uncomfortable but I can see how it helps people who have no past experience of the archetypes to connect with them.
We next moved into a consideration of the feminine and to a short discussion about the creators of the ancient stone altars. We were invited to place archetypical feminine items upon the central altar and, soon, the altar cloth was strewn with beautiful flowers and cuttings. The Daykeeper Rites then seek to establish a connection with the feminine, with which, for various reasons, I struggled. I won’t address this issue now but, instead, I’ll come back to this subject when I discuss my feelings about visiting the White Spring.
A group trip into Glastonbury town centre provided some interesting examples of ‘praising the feminine’. For many, the Glastonbury Goddess Temple, where we began our journey was a little too ‘new age’ for their taste and many of us were surprised that the only attendants in the temple were male. I felt a sense of peace, sat within a circle made of wicker goddess statues but others in the group had the opposite sensation and felt quite uneasy. Otherwise, the place made little impression upon me.
From here we moved to St Mary’s Church, a small Catholic church. Many found a beautiful sense of peace here, into which I found it difficult to tune. I guess that I am just too mindful of the Church’s tendency to negate the pagan and, indeed, the feminine. In Cusco, Peru, the ancient procession of a Pachamama statue through the streets was subverted with an image of the Virgin Mary. Indeed, time and again, throughout history, we can observe the Church denigrating women. Mary Magdalene, for instance, a follower of Christ, named more often than many of the apostles and one of the few witnesses to Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection was slandered as a repentant prostitute by the Church, a claim unsupported by the gospels themselves. Such blatant hostility has led many (not least, Dan ‘The Da Vinci Code’ Brown) to suggest that she was in fact Christ’s wife and the bearer of his child (the Grail, in this instance, being Christ’s subsequent lineage). In the face of a Church which for years condemned aged healers to death as witches, it is hard to see through all that when I stand in one of their temples. Nonetheless, we all sang out a changing chord together and the harmony afforded me some sense of peace.
The next initiation, the Wisdomkeeper Rites, built upon the feminine foundations of the previous rite by honouring the masculine and the wisdom, which the ancients believed was held by the mountains. On the Medicine Wheel course, I remembered the gifting of these rites was accompanied by the intoning of the key mountain peaks of Peru. In this instance, a shamanic ‘journey’ helped us to explore the masculine mind-set, before receiving and granting the rites to others.
As a group, we went to explore the Abbey grounds one afternoon. Within the perimeter is a cutting of the Glastonbury Thorn – Joseph of Arimathea, transporting the Holy Grail, was said to have thrust his staff into the ground, from which a Thorn Tree sprang. Sadly, the original was cut down and burned in the English Civil War by Puritans who regarded it as a ‘relic of superstition’. Perhaps this is a good point to consider the Grail itself – what exactly was it?
The common depiction of the Grail is the cup from which Jesus drank at the Last Supper and which is at the heart of the Holy Communion service, which remembers that night. Further legends suggest that the cup was used to collect Christ’s blood at the crucifixion. However, as I mentioned earlier, there have been suggestions that the Grail represents Christ’s lineage, with the suggestion that Christ was married to Mary Magdalene and that the Grail represents their descendants. It may also refer to a secret document, a ‘Gospel of Christ’. For centuries, the Grail was linked with the Knights Templar and the suggestion is that their knowledge regarding the Grail made them rich (perhaps through blackmail of the Church) and that this forbidden knowledge, ultimately, led to their suppression.
We stood at the site of King Arthur’s tomb at the Abbey. A plaque records that, “In the year 1191 the bodies of King Arthur and his Queen were said to have been found on the south side of the Lady Chapel. On 19th April 1278, their remains were removed in the presence of King Edward I and Queen Eleanor to a black marble tomb on this site. This tomb survived until the dissolution of the Abbey in 1539”. We placed our mesas on the grave and Don Francisco and Chino blessed them. There was a lovely moment where a child of some tourists added her own stone to our pile of mesas, in order to join our process.
We descended the stairs to the Lady Chapel, which has the ley line upon which the Abbey was built prominently marked through its centre. It was a strange sensation to lie upon the line – I found that, with my head facing east the energies felt distinctly downhill and flowing, whilst, with my head facing west, the energies felt uphill and struggling.
The only surviving building in the Abbey grounds is the beautiful Abbot’s Kitchen, which dates from the 14th century and is one of very few surviving mediaeval kitchens in the world. I mistook it for a baptistery, with its domed roof. Chris speculated that its lone survival might suggest it held some other purpose and I suppose one might have to consider it as one of many local contenders for the resting place of the Holy Grail.
Behind the kitchen and hidden away (you will look in vain for a photo or any mention of this on the Abbey’s own website) is an ‘omphalos’, or prophecy stone (right). A lady, in her ‘moon time’, would sit upon the stone and allow her blood to fall into the centre, as she acted as an oracle for petitioning locals.
Returning to Abbey House, the next set of rites we experienced were the Earthkeeper Rites (or ‘Kurak Akullak’). These rites form a connection with the stars and encourage us to download wisdom from the future. The notion here is that a shaman need not wait for changes to come but can seek to pull them in from the future. Our time on this planet is all too short, why should we have to wait to accrue knowledge, which we can access now?
One evening, we visited the White Spring (calcite deposits give the water a whitish hue). In a Victorian stone reservoir, once filled by the White Spring, a temple has been created by local volunteers. The ‘Well house’ has 16ft high vaults, is lit solely by candlelight and houses a number of pools, constructed according to the principles of sacred geometry. There are shrines to: Brigid, Celtic Fire Goddess and guardian of sacred springs; Our Lady of Avalon, a version of the Pachamama or Earth Mother; and the King of the World of Faerie. Some of our group were ‘called’ to bathe in one of the pools but, to be honest, I felt a bit uneasy. I can’t really give you an explanation, you would think that Brigid’s strong connection with the wolf (my own particular spirit guide) would have encouraged a sense of calm but I felt unsettled. Only in the shrine of the King of the World of Faerie did I feel a little better. There was a painting of Herne the Hunter and I was reminded of his depiction in the ‘Robin of Sherwood’ TV series, which I had watched as a child. Some time later I bought a replica of the painting, a wall hanging, which now decorates the door of my own water shrine – my bathroom!
The others joined in another changing chord of sound, which echoed marvellously around the dimly lit chambers but, unlike at St Mary’s Church, I did not join in, retaining a sense of disconnection. Instead, I sang ‘Non Nobis’ again, which oddly seemed to blend rather well with the changing chord and gave me some peace. We ascended from the tomb individually to a kind of ‘born again’ ceremony, which echoed a similar event in Peru, where we had emerged from the Temple of the Rainbow (‘Balcon del Diablo’) cave. I was happier to be in the night air but still felt uneasy. My suspicion is that this reflects issues I have with embracing the feminine. Being gay was something I kept hidden, particularly at boarding school, where the last thing I wanted to be perceived as was ‘feminine’. Not a sportsman, loving drama and in the school choir, I was already seen as ‘different’ amongst my peers, so I suppose I cultivated a more masculine persona. I think these struggles with masculinity and femininity have played out further into my life. I’m pretty certain that I became a police officer for a few years, largely in order to embrace a masculine culture and to prove that I could ‘make it’ in such an environment, even if I were gay. To be honest, I thought I had adequately ‘dealt with’ these issues on the ‘Medicine Wheel’ course but the Munay-Ki course encouraged me to re-assess how aspects of masculine and feminine play out in my life and to better respect that coming to terms with them is a process which is not fixed but which is much more ongoing and fluid.
The Starkeeper Rites (or ‘Mosoq Karpay’) are the rites of the time to come and seek to inform one’s luminous energy field, encouraging evolution. These rites are delivered quite differently to the others, with the recipient lying down, as the shaman pours light energy into each chakra. For me, this is the most beautiful ceremony of the Munay-Ki and is a pleasure to both gift and receive. On receiving the rites, myself, I had a clear vision of rising up the inside of the tower on Glastonbury Tor (below) and of a connection to the stars in the sky above.
On our penultimate day, we visited Chalice Well, also known as the Red Spring (iron oxide deposits give the water a reddish hue). The lower garden is dominated by a large ‘vesica piscis’ pond, into which a seven bowls flow form spills the spring water. I stopped to drink from the Lion’s Head Fountain, a definite metallic tang hitting my tongue. Archaeological evidence suggests that Chalice Well itself (below) has been in constant use for 2,000 years, which gives rise to the suggestion that it is yet another resting place for the Holy Grail. We placed our mesas around the entrance to the Well and each of us took a turn to gaze into our own reflection, deep in the waters below, as the group sang ‘How Could Anyone’. The first line of the song holds, “How could anyone ever tell you that you’re anything less than beautiful?” I found myself quite moved by this, I realised that I didn’t really think of myself as beautiful – at 41, I felt I was ‘passed my prime’, overweight, stocky, balding and far from anyone’s definition of ‘beautiful’ but here was a whole group singing that I was.
We had a free hour to look around the gardens but I chose to hurry up the Tor. I wanted to see it properly in the light and I felt that I wanted to explore the strong connection I had felt on our night trip. In the meantime, I’d researched the history of the Tor and was interested to read that the last Abbot of Glastonbury, Richard Whiting, who had opposed the Dissolution, had been hung, drawn and quartered there. Perhaps, that was the source of my unease and why I had felt moved to sing ‘Non Nobis’ but there was something else. When I looked up the song ‘Non Nobis’ itself, I discovered that, beyond its links to Henry V, of which I had been aware, it had strong connections to the Knights Templar and, thus, to the Holy Grail! I guessed that there was no such thing as coincidence in the Isle of Avalon. A song of thanksgiving and humility, the words for ‘Non Nobis’ translate from the Latin as – “Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us / But to thy name give the glory”.
It is an extraordinary view from the top of the Tor and, still, one finds Grail connections. The most prominent hill on the horizon, for instance, is Brent Knoll or the Isle of Frogs (below). According to legend, Ider, son of Nuth, one of King Arthur’s knights, was sent to kill three giants who lived there.
On my way down I felt completely energised. Unlike the night descent, which had necessitated moving slowly and carefully down the steps, I positively bounded down, leaping from one step to another like Tigger, or a puppy who had just discovered the delights of gravity.
I don’t often speak out in class. I am not sure why but I rarely feel moved to do so and, even if I think I have something relevant to add, I am more likely to chat to a friend in the coffee break, rather than make any great pronouncement. Nonetheless, perhaps energised by my romp down the Tor, I felt moved to speak about something I had read in ‘The Independent’ regarding the growing refugee crisis. It described how in response to the Icelandic government’s cap of 50 asylum seekers a year, Bryndis Bjorgvinsdottir had set up a Facebook group asking for help. In contrast to our own government’s descriptions of a ‘swarm’, she pointed out, “They are our future spouses, best friends, the next soul mate, a drummer for our children’s band, the next colleague, Miss Iceland in 2022, the carpenter who finally finishes the bathroom, the cook in the cafeteria, a fireman and television host”. I was moved to tears as I related that, as a result, 11,000 families had offered to take asylum seekers into their home. I wanted to stress the importance of dreaming a new world into being and the difference, should we have doubted it, that a single person can make.
In the break, I reflected that Iceland had, once again, entered my thoughts – strongly enough for me to step up and speak out in class. I knew that I had to visit and, in fact, as soon as I got home, I booked the trip. A couple of weeks later, I could have booked a trip to see the northern lights as well but I felt strongly that I shouldn’t waste any time – that, for whatever reason, I ought to get out there and obey ‘the call’ sooner rather than later. It was to be a moving experience and one that I shall write about in a separate post…
Our final initiation was the God Creator Rites (or ‘Tanchi Rites’), which encourage us to envision the world as healed and a world that we would wish for our children’s children. In Peru, this ceremony had taken place at Machu Picchu (below). Exhausted, emotionally and physically from climbing Waynu Picchu, I had broken down in tears. I think many westerners struggle with the notion of their ‘god-ness’ and their intrinsic place in the world. In Glastonbury, those giving the rites formed a V shape with their arms, forming a kind of human chalice to download the rites before passing them to others. The seats were placed outwards, like spokes on a wheel, so that we moved outwards to pass on the rites to the next person.
I noticed, more than at any other ceremony, that there was a hurry to be seated in front of Chris, Joe, Don Francisco or Chino. I am not saying that I am always immune to the temptation of choosing who grants me the rites but I think it is a mistake and that it denigrates the rites. After all, it is not about who grants you them but about the ancient initiations themselves and how far we allow them to live within us. My first partner, for instance, after I had granted her the rites, hurried off to have them bestowed by Don Francisco when the seat opposite him became available, rather than taking the time to reciprocate the rites back to me. I notice that this played into my own fears of ‘not being good enough’ to grant the rites, which were somewhat relieved by her returning to apologise and give me a big hug at the conclusion of the ceremony. There are two learning points here, I guess – don’t get hung up on who grants you the rites and don’t get hung up on whether you are ‘worthy’, it is the initiations themselves which are important.
On our final day together, we discussed how we might take the Munay-Ki out into the world. There were some great ideas, with one of my favourites being to involve an existing huskie sledging retreat into the process – sign me up for that one! What emerged, for me, was the importance that the wonderful, mythical environment of Glastonbury had added to the process – if I were to create a retreat I stated that I would want it to be somewhere special, somewhere beautiful. I also knew pretty quickly that I would like to collaborate with my friend, Susan Earl. It had been attending one of her retreats, which had introduced me to shamanism and to the ‘Medicine Wheel’ course, so it seemed apt that we should work together on gifting the Munay-Ki. Friends for more than 20 years, I was certain that we could bring our drama and psychology backgrounds together to create something quite special.
I left the Glastonbury course feeling energised, as well as surprised that I had made such good friends in so short a time. The Munay-Ki really are a magical set of rites which seem to bring you into balance with the world and encourage you to see the wonder of it. Just as the late, great Robin Williams exalted his students in ‘Dead Poets’ Society’, they seem to scream at us to seize the day, to go out and to make our lives extraordinary!
Okay, I’m in. When can I receive the rites?
As luck would have it, I’ll be leading a Munay-Ki course with my good friend and fellow shaman, Theresa Scully, over two weekends (the 7/8th July and 14/15th July, 2018) in Warwickshire. That’s us, below, just above Machu Picchu, during our ascent of Wayna Picchu together, in Peru, 2015.
For more information on our course, please see the click here or contact me at chacarunadanwaller@gmail.com, or my co-host, Theresa, at tasteresa@icloud.com for further information.