Karpay (KAR-pie) - the sacred initiation
You stand at the threshold of something ancient - a path walked by the Q'ero wisdom keepers in the high Andes for generations, and by countless souls before them.
This is the Karpay - not a test, but a transmission. Not questions to answer correctly, but a journey of recognition.
Three guardians will observe you.
The Puma (Puma) will watch how you move through the world.
The Condor (Kuntur) will see what you carry.
The Serpent (Amaru) will sense how you transform.
From 189 pathways, yours will emerge - not because you choose it, but because it is yours. It has always been yours.
Find a quiet space. This journey takes 45-60 minutes. The guardians do not rush.
Before the guardians observe, they must know who stands before them.
In the Andean tradition, to name something is to call it into being. Speak your name.
Your email allows you to return if you need to pause. Your responses are held in confidence.
In the Andes, every ceremony begins with intention - not a wish, but a declaration. The Q'ero call this setting the "arrow of your heart."
Speak plainly. There is no right answer - only your truth in this moment.
If you are stuck:
Kay Pacha (KAY PAH-chah) - the Middle World
From the shadows at the edge of firelight, golden eyes find you.
The Puma walks Kay Pacha - the world you live in every day. The world of patterns and instincts, of work and relationships, of the face you show and the face you hide.
The Q'ero wisdom keepers say the Puma teaches presence - to be fully here, fully awake, missing nothing. It sees how you move through ordinary life. It knows the difference between who you perform and who you are.
Do not perform for the Puma. It sees through masks.
Simply be who you are. That is enough. That is everything.
In the high Andes, wisdom passes around fires - not in books, but in stories, in voices, in the recognition that comes when someone speaks your truth before you find the words.
Three figures sit at this fire. They speak of what drives them - the hunger beneath the surface, the pattern that shapes their days.
Listen. One will feel familiar. One will feel partly familiar. One will feel foreign.
There are no wrong recognitions. Only yours.
The first figure stares into the flames, jaw tight, hands restless:
"I see what is wrong. I always see it. The error in the document, the flaw in the plan, the thing that is not quite right. I cannot unsee it. I fix and fix, but something is always still broken - usually me. I hold myself to standards no one asked for, and I resent others for not holding themselves to the same. I am tired. But I cannot stop. Because if I let one thing slide, what does that make me?"
The second figure leans forward, eyes searching your face:
"I know what you need before you ask. I can feel it. And when I help - when I see relief in your eyes - that is when I am real. But here is the thing I do not say: I keep score. I give and give, and somewhere inside I am waiting for it to come back. When it does not... I do not get angry. I get hurt. And then I help more, hoping this time it will be enough."
The third figure sits upright, restless even in stillness:
"I am what I achieve. My worth is my results. I can become whatever you need me to be - I read the room, I adapt, I deliver. But when I stop achieving, I start disappearing. I have worn so many masks that sometimes, alone at night, I wonder which face is actually mine. Maybe none of them. Maybe there is nothing under the performance."
The flames shift. Night deepens around you.
Three more figures emerge from darkness. They have been waiting.
Their hungers are different - deeper, stranger, harder to name.
Listen again.
The fourth figure speaks quietly, almost to themselves, eyes fixed on something far away:
"I am not like the others. I have always known this. There is something missing in me that everyone else seems to have - or maybe something extra that makes ordinary life feel unbearable. I feel everything so deeply that sometimes I think I will drown in it. The sadness is not the problem. The problem is the flatness - when I cannot feel anything at all. I would rather suffer than be numb. At least suffering is real."
The fifth figure observes from the edge of firelight, arms crossed, face unreadable:
"I watch before I enter. I need to understand the room before I step into it. Others seem to have endless energy for people - I do not. Every interaction costs me something. So I conserve. I retreat. I build walls not out of fear, but out of necessity. Inside those walls, my mind is vast. I can think here. But sometimes I wonder if I have retreated so far that I have forgotten how to come back."
The sixth figure glances around, alert, scanning for something unseen:
"What could go wrong? That is the question I cannot stop asking. I am not a coward - I will face what needs facing. But I need to see it coming. I prepare. I question. I doubt - sometimes even myself. Especially myself. I want to trust, but trust has to be earned, tested, proven. The world is not as stable as people pretend. I see the cracks."
The last fire burns brightest.
Three figures have waited longest to speak. Their patterns cast the longest shadows.
Listen one more time.
The seventh figure grins, already looking past you toward something on the horizon:
"Life is too short for boring. I need the next thing - the next idea, the next adventure, the next possibility. When I am excited, I am unstoppable. When I am trapped, I am suffocating. Commitment feels like a cage. Pain feels like something to reframe, escape, transcend. I know I run from hard things sometimes. I call it optimism. Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But I cannot stay in the dark - I was built for light."
The eighth figure takes up space, unapologetic, voice carrying without effort:
"I protect. That is what I do. The vulnerable, the wronged, the people who cannot fight for themselves - I will stand in front of them and dare the world to go through me. I am not cruel, but I am not soft. Weakness invites predators. So I became something predators fear. The cost is that people see the armor and forget there is something underneath. Sometimes I forget too."
The ninth figure speaks slowly, peacefully, like water finding its level:
"I just want things to be okay. Conflict feels like a physical pain - I will do almost anything to avoid it. I can see all sides, which makes it hard to pick one. People think I am calm. I am calm. But sometimes the calm is a way of disappearing, of merging with what everyone else wants so I do not have to know what I want. It is easier to go along. But somewhere in there, I have lost track of myself."
In Kay Pacha, we reveal ourselves through choices - not the big decisions we agonize over, but the small ones we make without thinking. The instinctive turn. The gut response.
Six crossroads lie ahead. At each one, a moment arises. A situation. A pull in two directions.
There are no right answers. Walk toward what is true for you - not what sounds good, but what you would actually do.
You receive unexpected criticism. It catches you off guard - you did not see it coming.
Before you have time to think, your gut response is to:
Someone close to you is struggling. They have not asked for help directly, but you can tell something is wrong.
Your gut response is to:
You achieve something significant. It went well - better than expected, perhaps.
Your first instinct is to:
Conflict arises in a close relationship. Tension fills the space between you.
Your gut response is to:
Something threatens your sense of security - financial, relational, or otherwise. The ground feels less stable.
Your gut response is to:
Someone wants to get closer to you emotionally. They are reaching for real connection - not surface, but depth.
Your gut response is to:
Ayni (EYE-nee) - sacred reciprocity
The Andean principle of Ayni teaches that life is balance - give and take, push and pull. But we each lean one direction. We each have tensions that pull us.
Six tensions. No middle ground allowed. Which side pulls harder?
If you had to choose - and you do have to choose:
If you had to choose:
If you had to choose:
If you had to choose:
If you had to choose:
If you had to choose:
The Puma moves closer. The fire has burned low. In the near-darkness, it wants to hear your voice - not your performance, but your truth.
Complete these whispers from your gut. First instinct. Do not craft the perfect answer.
"When you are stressed..."
If you are stuck:
"What you most fear..."
If you are stuck:
"What they do not realize..."
If you are stuck:
"What you most need..."
If you are stuck:
"When you are at your best..."
If you are stuck:
The fire has burned to embers. The Puma stands at the edge of shadow, golden eyes holding yours one last moment before it goes.
In Kay Pacha, the Q'ero say we come to know ourselves through reflection - seeing our patterns mirrored back. Not to judge them. To recognize them.
As the Puma prepares to fade into the night of the Middle World, what stirs in you?
Close your eyes for a moment and listen...
The golden eyes hold yours one moment more. Then the Puma turns and disappears into the shadows of Kay Pacha.
Your patterns have been witnessed. Not judged - witnessed.
The Q'ero say: "The Puma knows that every pattern once served a purpose. We do not shame the ways we survived. We honor them - and we grow beyond them."
Above, against the endless Andean sky, a great shadow circles. It has been waiting.
The Kuntur descends from the peaks.
Hanan Pacha (hah-NAHN PAH-chah) - the Upper World
From heights where the Apus - the sacred mountain spirits - touch the sky, the great Kuntur drops toward you.
It has been circling since before you arrived. From those peaks where the air is thin and the world below is small, it has watched. Waited.
The Q'ero wisdom keepers say the Kuntur carries prayers to the spirit world and returns with vision. It does not care how you act. It does not care what you achieve. Those belong to Kay Pacha.
The Kuntur sees something older. What you carry. What you came here to be. The gift you were born to give. Not what you do - what you ARE.
Some call it purpose. Some call it soul. The Kuntur calls it nothing. It simply sees.
Seven truths. Seven ways of being in the world. Seven kinds of souls walking the earth.
The Kuntur will speak each one. Notice how deeply it lands - not whether it sounds good, not whether you wish it were true, but whether it sounds like YOU.
Some will ring through your bones. Some will leave you unmoved. That is how it should be.
"You feel most alive when you are helping - not for recognition, not for return. You often prefer to work unseen. When someone flourishes because of something you did, something in you settles into place. You notice needs before others do. You give more than you take. Sometimes too much. But service is not what you do - it is what you are. It is why you came."
How deeply does this resonate?
"You need to make things. Not because you want to - because you must. Ideas come to you unbidden, and they will not leave until you give them form. Beauty matters to you in a way others do not always understand. You process life through creation - when you cannot create, something essential shuts down. The world needs what only you can make. This is why you came."
How deeply does this resonate?
"Obstacles do not discourage you - they wake you up. When others see problems, you see things to overcome. You are built for challenge, for pushing through, for protecting what matters. Rest feels like stagnation. You would rather fail at something hard than succeed at something easy. The fight is not the cost - the fight is the point. This is why you came."
How deeply does this resonate?
"You must understand before you act. Shallow knowledge frustrates you - you need to go deep, to see the whole picture, to know why things work the way they do. You collect understanding the way others collect possessions. Your mind is your home. The world is less chaotic when you can explain it. This is why you came."
How deeply does this resonate?
"You cannot know something without wanting to share it. Wisdom unspoken feels incomplete. When you see confusion, you want to illuminate. When you find truth, you want to teach. Not from ego - from a sense that knowledge exists to be passed on. You are a bridge between those who know and those who are ready to learn. This is why you came."
How deeply does this resonate?
"You feel called to something larger than yourself. There is a thinness between you and what some call sacred - you sense it, even when you cannot name it. You are drawn to moments of meaning, to rituals, to the places where the ordinary becomes holy. You carry compassion like a weight and a gift. Others feel held in your presence. This is why you came."
How deeply does this resonate?
"Others look to you. You did not ask for this - it simply happens. When the room is uncertain, eyes drift your way. You see how pieces fit together, how people can be organized, how visions become real. Leadership is not your ambition - it is your nature. The question is not whether you will lead, but how well. This is why you came."
How deeply does this resonate?
Seven callings. Seven ways a soul can serve. Read each one - not quickly, but with presence. Notice which ones create a pull in your chest.
Choose the two that call to you most strongly.
Select the two that pull you most strongly:
The great wings fold. The ancient eyes hold yours across the distance of Hanan Pacha.
The Q'ero say: "The Kuntur does not grant purpose. It sees the purpose you have always carried. It only removes the clouds that hid it from your sight."
As the Kuntur prepares to return to the peaks, what stirs in you?
Close your eyes for a moment and listen...
Great wings unfold. With a sound like distant thunder, the Kuntur rises - back toward the peaks, back toward the realm where prayers are carried and visions received.
What you carry has been seen. Not judged - seen.
The Q'ero say: "The Kuntur knows that every soul chose its purpose before birth. We do not create our calling. We remember it."
Below, in the earth itself, something ancient stirs. It has been waiting since before you drew your first breath.
The Amaru rises from the depths.
Ukhu Pacha (OO-khoo PAH-chah) - the Lower World
From depths older than memory, the Amaru emerges. Its scales catch light that has no source.
The Amaru moves through Ukhu Pacha - the world beneath. Not hell, not shadow, but the place of transformation. The place where seeds split open. Where old forms dissolve so new ones can emerge.
The Q'ero wisdom keepers say the Amaru sheds its skin endlessly - not because it must, but because growth requires releasing what we have been. It sees your wounds. It sees your patterns of healing. It knows what needs to transform.
Do not hide your wounds from the Amaru. It has seen them since before you were born.
Close your eyes for a moment and listen...
The body remembers what the mind forgets. Every tension, every holding pattern, every place you brace - they are a map of your history.
Close your eyes briefly. Scan from head to feet. Where do you feel tightness?
When stress arrives in your body, where does it settle first?
When your body needs to release, to restore, to return to itself - what does it reach for?
Close your eyes for a moment and listen...
The Q'ero work with the elements - not as symbols, but as living forces. Each one transforms differently. Each one heals differently.
Which elements call to you?
In nature, which element draws you most strongly?
Which element do you tend to avoid or feel uncomfortable with?
Close your eyes for a moment and listen...
The Amaru does not judge patterns - it knows they once served. Every way you learned to protect yourself, to cope, to survive - it was wisdom at the time.
But some patterns outlive their purpose. The Amaru sees which skins are ready to be shed.
Answer honestly. The Amaru already knows.
Which wound do you carry? Not your only wound - but the one that shaped you most.
How do you protect yourself when the old wound is touched?
When healing comes, how does it usually find you?
Four questions from Ukhu Pacha. The place of roots. The place where transformation begins.
Speak what is true. The Amaru does not need pretty words.
What skin are you ready to shed? What pattern, belief, or way of being has outlived its purpose?
If you are stuck:
What is trying to emerge in you? What new way of being is pushing up through the soil?
If you are stuck:
The Q'ero say we carry the unfinished work of our ancestors. What pattern might you have inherited - from family, culture, or the generations before you?
If you are stuck:
For transformation to happen, what do you most need?
If you are stuck:
The Q'ero say the Three Worlds are not separate - they exist together, always. Kay Pacha, Hanan Pacha, Ukhu Pacha. Pattern, purpose, transformation.
Three questions remain. They ask how these worlds live together in you.
When your pattern (Puma/Kay Pacha) and your purpose (Condor/Hanan Pacha) come into conflict - when who you habitually are clashes with who you are meant to be - which usually wins?
When you imagine fully living your purpose (Hanan Pacha), what must transform (Ukhu Pacha) for that to become real?
Right now, where are you in your journey?
The ancient serpent coils, watching. It has seen your wounds. It has seen your strength.
The Q'ero say: "The Amaru does not heal us. It shows us where we have already begun to heal ourselves. It honors the transformation already underway."
As the Amaru prepares to descend, what stirs in you?
Close your eyes for a moment and listen...
With a movement older than mountains, the great serpent turns and begins its descent back into Ukhu Pacha.
Your transformation has been witnessed. Not judged - witnessed.
The Q'ero say: "The Amaru knows that every wound carries medicine. Every ending holds a beginning. The shedding is not the loss - the shedding is the liberation."
The three guardians have observed. The three worlds have been walked.
The Karpay nears completion.
You have walked the three worlds. You have been seen by the three guardians.
The Puma watched how you move through Kay Pacha - your patterns, your instincts, your ways of being in the world.
The Kuntur saw what you carry from Hanan Pacha - your purpose, your calling, the gift you were born to give.
The Amaru felt what stirs in Ukhu Pacha - your wounds, your healing, the transformation that awaits.
From 189 pathways, yours will now emerge.
Before your pathway is revealed, speak your final words to the guardians.
This is not a prayer. Not a request. Simply - what is true for you in this moment?
If you are stuck:
You have walked the three worlds. You have been witnessed by Puma, Kuntur, and Amaru.
When you are ready, offer your responses to the guardians. They will confer and reveal your pathway.
This is the moment of transmission. Take a breath before you continue.
The three guardians share what they have seen. From the high peaks to the middle world to the depths below, they weave together what was witnessed.
This may take a moment. True seeing cannot be rushed.
"May you walk your path with the presence of the Puma,
the vision of the Kuntur,
and the transforming wisdom of the Amaru."
The guardians have witnessed. Your pathway has been revealed.
Check your email for your login link and complete Karpay document.
INTI ÑAN - The Sun Path
The Karpay Initiation