Don’t get me wrong, this place is beautiful.
One of the exciting things about Cusco is how it, somehow, is this place full of seekers. There is something about the city that draws people who are looking. American’s searching for some kind of ancient wisdom about healing plants or rituals or spirits. Young people from all across the continent looking for a way to practice a craft and make enough money at it to get by (or at least get high). Quechua villagers looking for a way to make a better life for their children. Tourists hoping to see something more authentic or “real” than what their day-to-day lives offer them. Shoot, this city brought me here, someone seeking a way to do something that has more meaning than making a living answering phone-calls.
But there is a lie here. I know this, even though I’m not sure what the lie is yet. I know there is a lie, because there is always a lie. In the U.S., the lie is so slick, so pervasive, so apart of everyday life that most people are as aware of the lie as a fish is aware of the water. I’ve got a pretty good handle on the American lie. But here, I’m not sure. There’s got to be a reason why so many people are drawn here.
Where there is a lie, there is also truth. If we seek the truth (genuinely seek the truth, not just seek what we think we want) then we’ll find the lie.
And so we seek together in Cusco.