Destiny: Rise of the Phoenix (eBook)

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The Wheel of Time

Chichén Itzá, Yucatán Peninsula, Mexico

A thread of golden light beams across the calm waters of the Caribbean as the sun rises over the horizon. The mirage-like image appears so solid, floating above the gentle waves, it seems you can step on and walk across to greet the new day. Behind you stands the cluster of buildings known as Tulum, nestled on a high point of the eastern shore of Mexico’s Yucatán peninsula. Beside you stands the spirit of an ancient Maya woman, her baby sleeping in a woven sling tied across her chest. The woman’s long arched nose, narrow cheekbones, high sloping forehead, and fine jewelry identify her as a member of the privileged class of Maya. You stand together peacefully in the silence of the morning, there above the white sands and turquoise waves, gazing at the light reflecting off the water.

“This is your destiny,” the Maya woman says, smiling as she gently rocks her sleeping child while gazing still at the sun. Her words strike you like a lightning bolt, illuminating past and future in a single instant, bringing congruency to pieces of your life that you’d long experienced as fractured. At that moment, you realize that this story—your story—does not begin here. It begins, perhaps, nine years before, when you were first called to the land of the Maya, when the pull of faraway shores had become too strong to resist.

Your destination of choice then was outside your budget, so you settled on the Yucatán as an affordable place with a sunny climate situated in close proximity to water. Though grateful to visit most anywhere in the world, part of you nonetheless resisted this second-choice place; part of you—in fact a large part—did not want to go to Mexico. Little did you know that what seemed an inconsequential, frayed thread of your life at the time would one day reveal itself to be an integral piece of the tapestry that is the purpose you are to fulfill. At the time, what coaxed you on through flight bookings, hotel reservations, and Spanish language learning was a growing curiosity about the culture of the ancient Maya. And so it was that you found yourself aboard a plane destined for the tip of the Yucatán peninsula—for the first time.

You’re swept back, then, to a morning nine years before, when you awake in your tiny room across from the restaurant with the blinking red neon sign and loud mariachi band, gather your day pack, walk to the small grocery store to buy several gallons of water, and onto the nearest bus station where you purchase a ticket to the town of Valladolid, a three-hour trip west, away from the coast. Boarding the bus, you’re pleasantly surprised to find air conditioning, plush seats, and even movies playing on small screens throughout the interior: an overall comfortable means by which to see a good portion of the Yucatán. As the bus snakes through dense jungle growth, periodically passing tiny settlements of scattered buildings, you try to sleep. At the Valladolid station, you switch buses, purchasing a second ticket to the Maya temple ruins of Chichén Itzá, a further 45 minutes into the interior of the peninsula.

Since you’d resigned yourself to visiting Mexico, Chichén Itzá had increasingly become your main point of interest in the area, and it drew you like a magnet. It served the ancient Maya as a sacred ceremonial and urban center from around 750 CE. The ruins also bear the marks of two other ethnic groups, the Toltecs and the Itzá, who likely invaded and dominated the Maya territory of the Yucatán from around 930 CE. With the name ‘Chichén Itzá,’ which means ‘at the mouth of the well of the Itzá’ in Yucatec Mayan, the Itzá people claimed ownership of the place and the water of its sacred well—which had long been a place of power and pilgrimage—thereby conferring power upon themselves. Still, some believe that Chichén Itzá records a coming together of these three groups, the Maya, Toltecs, and Itzá, based on the different artistic styles present in the complex. As you would soon discover, the architectural ruins record the unique world view of the ancient Maya, which is intimately connected to the seasons and the stars, and generous in its mysteries.

When the bus finally arrives at Chichén Itzá, you’re enchanted from the moment you step onto the grounds of the ancient temple complex. You feel a little too relaxed, as if you’ve just woken from a long dream-filled sleep. The place is magical, filled with honeyed light, butterflies dancing on a quiet breeze, and birds singing in the trees. Somewhat of a geological wonder, the ruins sit on a large grass-covered clearing surrounded by dense jungle-like growth. On this particular day—the day you visit—the grounds are nearly empty of other people, and you relish the relative peace in which to explore.

Feeling very much like a sleepwalker, you find yourself, somehow, at the center of the ruins where the impressive Temple of Kukulkán stands. A step pyramid dedicated to the feathered serpent god known as Kukulkán to the Maya and Quetzalcoatl to the Toltecs and Aztecs, the temple is an architectural masterpiece, with spacial, temporal, visual, acoustic, astrological, and cosmological integration. Each of the temple’s four sides features a set of stairs, each with 91 steps, which, together with the top platform, equals 365: one side for each season and one step for each day of the solar year. The temple further comprises nine levels divided by a central staircase, making 18 platforms, equaling the number of months in the Maya solar calendar called the Haab.

This temple likely served important ceremonial and political purposes. A leader or priest may have stood on the top platform to address the people standing below, as the surrounding acoustics are noticeably pronounced. Someone speaking or clapping near the pyramid—say, 25 feet away—can be heard clearly by those located 100 or 200 feet away, and the sound itself carries an echo-like effect.

Perhaps the most mysterious aspect of the Temple of Kukulkán occurs on the spring and autumn equinoxes, when day and night are of equal length. As the sun sets on these days, triangles of light and shadow appear to move down the steps of the pyramid’s northeast side, meeting the stone serpent head at the base. The overall effect is one of a feathered serpent slithering down the side of the pyramid. The feathered serpent itself, as a representation of the god Kukulkán, expressed the coming together of two opposites: the heavens, symbolized by the feathers of a bird, and the Earth, symbolized by the serpent. When these two opposites come together, creation happens. In Aztec and Maya mythology, the serpent is also the means by which the sun and the stars cross the heavens. Serpents also symbolize rebirth and renewal through the shedding of their skin. So it makes perfect sense that the Temple of Kukulkán embodies serpent imagery that is enacted by the spring and autumn equinoxes.

As Kukulkán is associated with the planet Venus, the morning and evening star, which holds an important place in Maya cosmology, the central placement of this building within Chichén Itzá—and its equinox spectacle—should perhaps come as no surprise. For the ancient Maya, Venus was a civilizing force and associated with battle. Events such as ritualized warfare and changes in leadership were timed to coincide with the phases of Venus. Quetzalcoatl and Kukulkán were similar figures, associated with wisdom, the wind, vision, and the connection between gods and humans and heaven and Earth.

While you regret not seeing the shadowy appearance of a serpent descending the temple steps, you do not miss the crowds it would undoubtedly bring. Even on an average day, the Temple of Kukulkán is full of wonders and deeply connected to both the Earth and the stars. It has been observed, for example, that a line across the pyramid’s base coincides with the orientation of the summer-winter solstice. These integrations of architecture with the movement of celestial bodies are not surprising, given that the ancient Maya were consummate astronomers. Observatories and sophisticated time-keeping systems developed from their study of the stars. Clearly the ancient Maya had intimate knowledge of celestial cycles.

You step inside the Temple of Kukulkán where, at the bottom of a steep, narrow staircase, another pyramid is nestled—smaller and older, possibly dedicated to the moon. Inside this smaller pyramid stands a jaguar throne, painted red and embedded with jade, which likely played an important ceremonial role for the people who lived at Chichén Itzá. Jaguar and serpent carvings adorn the sides of the inner temple’s stone walls, and these animals are everywhere present at the ruins, in representation if not physical form. For the ancient Maya, the jaguar and the serpent were powerful symbols embodying the culture and cosmology of the people.

Continuing your tour walking across the sunlit grounds, with the Temple of Kukulkán at your back, you next encounter the main ball court. Here, players gathered for a ballgame that was popular throughout Mesoamerica, and the court at Chichén Itzá is the largest known. Traces of the gladiator-like game are almost palpable in the air—the astonishing strength and skill of the players, the loud cheers of the crowd, the thrills, tears, agonies, and the blood that would inevitably stain the Earth. Standing on the sideline, you survey this remarkable large, flat area of grass flanked lengthwise by two vertical stone...