A few airports and bad plane meals ago, I was in Cuzco, Peru, with two friends, and we stumbled upon a shaman.

Well, that’s not actually what happened. What happened was that we were playing the souvenir-hungry tourists and walking into every door with shiny things on the other side, and we walked into this very clean, two-story store full of the usual stuff (handknit sweaters with llamas on them, earrings made by machines in Indonesia or something) as well as a lot of beautifully hand-dyed, handmade clothing and ceremonial pipes – with two mouthpieces for matrimonial ceremonies.

(There was even one ceremonial pipe that represented pre-Incan theology, with the skins of a boa and a puma and a feather from a condor to represent the three worlds: makka’ala, the serpentine underworld, akka’ala the fierce feline present, and aya’ala, the elusive higher world.)

The women who were helping us through the store suggested that we might want to get our coca leaves read by the Shaman, and when they added that it would be free, we shrugged at each other: I mean, when else are we going to get a chance to talk to a shaman?

We were soon informed that the Shaman was in a taxi and would be over soon. We laughed a little at this, having a little trouble reconciling the apparent contradiction between ancient practice and modern convenience, but the attendants just smiled at us.

The shaman arrived with an intense gaze and two big hoop earrings, and described himself as an Incan Buddhist. We exchanged curious glances, and followed him up to a sunny white walled loft, and settled ourselves on pillows on his floor opposite the wiphala flag representing the unity of indigenous peoples.

He assured us that this practice was “not about mysticism, not about the oommmm, but about being practical people who solve problems with honesty and love.” Kneeling across from us, he pronounced: “I am going to take you into the presence of the greatest shaman in the universe . . . ” a smile, pointing at each of us: “your own heart.”

His philosophy was almost as interesting as his individual readings of us, which were completely accurate for the first two of us (including me, despite my background in  skepticism) and extremely backwards for the third. And, no, I can’t really talk about the readings without exposing myself and/or my friends, so I’m just going to stick to generalities.

He called for a Buddhist honesty and forgiveness in us, combined with a Shamanic active self-advocacy and a strong belief in the importance of romantic, sexual partnerships for spiritual growth.

This was interesting in light of the Gloria Steinem school of feminism’s mantra that ”a woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle.” Of course, even most serial monogomists agree that serial monogamy is not a healthy way to create relationships because it does not leave said monogamist with enough space to self-identify.

But how much space is enough? Where’s the line between co-dependence and dependency/addiction? Are all love manuals evil? The Shaman’s answer is to join bell hooks in flicking off John Gray, Ph.d., and his theory of different planetary origins of the sexes, but it doesn’t clearly resolve the question.

According to the Shaman, it’s not that men need to be thought of as “rubber bands” who need to alternate between having more space and having intimacy, as Gray argues, but that women are naturally more “spiritually in-tune,” while men are more “energetic.”

Unlike hooks, however, Angel Herrera (calling him the Shaman over and over is getting a little repetitive), sincerely believes that the sexual communion of people – “even a one night stand, anything, as long as there’s chemistry,” is an opportunity for growth. And not just heterosexual communion: “with men, with women, with three, five people, I don’t care” he stressed to me. “But that physical love aligns your chakras. That physical love recalls you to yourself. That physical love nourishes your soul.”

I’ve never heard a more sex positive message. It was great to hear it in a Catholic country, and be reminded that our American pre-Christian antepasados practiced this kind of shame-less celebration instead of idolizing the virgins and dismissing the whores.

Yet at the same time, I think that the only times that I’ve been able to make meaningful changes in my own level of self awareness have been times when I’ve had space to myself, to be single.

For more info on Angel Herrera, check out his website.

To listen to Akrobatik’s “Remind My Soul,” click here.