I arrive in the village of Belzig in late evening and am enchanted by the homes with their steep gables, the small shops, and the iconic cobbled streets of this beautiful village. I’m excited to be here. The next morning, I gather along with 36 other participants at the Sonnenhaus and, after having anticipated this event for months, I feel surprisingly calm.
As Lujan arrives, the room quiets. The Nagual Lujan Matus is a tall man and as he strides through the room, he makes for an imposing figure, though a gentleness in his manner becomes quickly evident. His stature and movements, while powerful, are also delicate, his hands infinitely graceful, as they arc and spiral through the moves of the Golden Lotus Series.
Lujan is a Master Teacher, calm and patient with those who struggle the most. The moves are complicated and I too struggle to remember. By the third day, I become more comfortable and start to let go, allowing my body to hold the memory of the moves and integrate them into the core of my being.
On this third day, I notice myself becoming moved emotionally by Lujan’s teachings, his words, as he speaks to us with kindness and often humor, answering the many questions of the group. As we move into our final day, I find myself working to keep my feelings and sometimes my tears in check.
Why this outpouring of emotion, I ask myself, as I strive to maintain my composure. Perhaps the movements open something inside me, something “socially bound” Lujan might say. Perhaps, too, it’s the music that seems to magically mirror the energy of the moment. Or maybe it’s the beauty of the movements coupled with the quietude of the space within that room.
In the end, it doesn’t matter. What matters are the teachings and the gestures Lujan Matus generously imparts, which are imbued with power and energy, the power of heart-space, the power of transformation, the power to recognize the unrecognizable. These are the gifts Lujan silently offers to anyone willing to accept, willing to turn, to take that leap toward spirit, toward the unknown, and into the improbable, the unknowable forever.
(Winner of the Parallel Perception Scholarship)