Wind, air and flight in Argentina

Where the wind blows let it move fresh breath and exhilaration into this moment. Agapito’s experience with air from the start was one of misunderstanding, considering that Earth and Air rarely mingle in the natural world, Agapito’s grounded Earth element kept the air above him and the wind blowing around him – never really embracing its power or beneficence. He fought against the wind, on the losing side, of course, but nevertheless he would brace himself against it and staunchly defend his planted space in the world.

When it's understood, wind allows for flight! If you can only embrace its spontaneity and ethereal grace and plan then you can truly be at peace with change. For no element is quicker in its motion, more undetectable in its presence and more abundant in its generosity. It can fuel fires and put them out, it can effortlessly spread seeds and deliver scents, carrying infinite vibrations undetected in its web.

Everything we project we project into the air.

Agapito was once diagnosed as having contracted a “Wind-Cold” illness by a practitioner of Chinese Medicine. To him, this diagnosis made sense – considering the times he felt most stressed in the natural world were the times he was cold and the wind was blowing. It is during these stressed time that Wind-Cold illness can creep in. It manifest as little cyst-like bumps that migrated from the back of his calf to his upper arm or his earlobes. It moves location because it is Wind and it clumps together in bumps because it is Cold.

During another bought of illness in La Paz, a Kallawaya shaman diagnosed his diarrhea as an “Invasion of Malign Winds.” This was the Kallawaya that read his Tarot cards, the Don Iberio of previous tales and his remedy was a tea of healing herbs from the Andes and Amazon. Wind has apparently been his foe.

So why Patagonia, Agapito? Why journey to one of the windiest places in the world?

To know it and be intimate with it, of course. And only in embracing his greatest challenges would Agapito succeed in his desire to learn in this life. So he dove in, to the thick walls of wind that push their way around Patagonia. Walls of wind, not gusts, because when they hit you it’s like a crash or a punch, no gentle tingling of his shin-hairs, these walls actually lift you off your feet, knock you into the rocks and have even been rumored to reach in and rip your long-underwear from your legs while leaving your pants in place – it is fierce, conniving and relentless. It is hard to believe that this same element is carrying oxygen that fills our blood, moves our life impulse. This same element moves our prana, or chi the world over – the very breath of life – it just moves in faster and harder in Patagonia.

Wind is to air what death is to life – it moves opportunity into the present. It keeps change coming and going and so on and fights forever against stagnation. Just as you can’t run away from death in this life, you cannot block the wind and expect to be able to breathe.

Agapito found walls of wind, condors, rain, snow, sunshine and powerful granite gods in a single week outside of Bariloche, Argentina. Refugio Frey is a European-style mountain hut that sits an afternoon’s bus and hike from Bariloche, in a nook on the west side of Cerro Catedral. It is an aptly named mountain cathedral, the construction of which is most definitely Gothic, not in a dark medieval way, but in a jagged “my reality is harsh and you should know that and show respect” kind of way. Needle-thin spires scrape the sky above the refugio, pinnacles and gendarmes, a destination for climber, hikers and romantic couples. Here Agapito spent time rock climbing on the beautiful golden granite.

While standing on the top of Torre Principal, the highest tower in the region, after climbing its northern ridge Agapito had his head skimmed by a condor with nearly 4 meters of wingspan. As the condor caught an updraft and disappeared to the south side of the tower, Agapito noticed a glistening bit of his hair whipping from the condor’s mouth. With their sighting being always auspicious, Agapito took a deep breath and imagined the millions of different landings his kidnapped hair could have, with wind carrying the condor, carrying the thread, carrying parts of his protein. A gentle breeze blew and tickled Agapito’s shin hairs.