Dancing on the Edge in Ancient Mexico: While Talking About Gravity and God

mariakerwin
December 8, 2025


There’s something about an ancient place in the jungle that makes everything feel close and real at the same time. Stone under your feet, trees and rain in the air, and then, right behind you, a steep drop that politely reminds you, “Hey friend, stay present.”

That’s the mood at Palenque in Chiapas, Mexico, where Juicy MagiK on the go pauses at the edge of an old temple site, laughs, chants, and slips in a surprisingly clear little lesson: reality doesn’t care what we believe, and that can be oddly comforting. In this short travel moment, three threads weave together: a tiny backpack-sized kirtan (chanting and dancing), dreams of sharing prasad (offered vegetarian food), and a grounded talk about truth (gravity included).

Walking Through Palenque, A Sacred Place That Still Feels Alive

Palenque sits in Chiapas, surrounded by green. It’s an ancient Maya city and ruins site, with temples and stone structures rising out of jungle growth. You can feel it in your body when you’re there, the mix of openness and hush, the way the view pulls your eyes outward and the stone pulls your thoughts inward.

If you want the formal details, the site is recognized as the Pre-Hispanic City and National Park of Palenque (UNESCO World Heritage Centre). But the on-the-ground experience is simpler than any plaque: wet air, old steps, and the sense that time is both long and short.

And then there’s the edge.

In the video, they’re standing with very little space behind them, and behind that, a drop. The scene is playful, but not fake-playful. More like real joy that still respects the fact that the body is standing in a real place.

Why ancient ruins can change your mood fast

Ruins do this funny thing. You arrive with your normal mind, your normal worries, your normal to-do list, and then suddenly you’re small, in a good way. The stones are older than your current drama. The trees don’t rush. The air doesn’t care about your notifications.

A place like Palenque invites a kind of natural mindfulness:

  • You watch your footing because the steps are uneven.
  • You look up because the structures pull your gaze.
  • You lower your voice because silence feels like part of the setting.

It’s not about forcing a mood. It’s about noticing what’s already there.

Respectful spiritual travel, simple rules that matter

When you’re visiting a site that holds history, and also holds meaning for people, it helps to carry a few simple habits. Nothing intense, just the basics that keep the place dignified and safe.

Stay on paths when they’re marked, especially where there are steep edges.

Be gentle with the site, no climbing where it’s not allowed, no touching carvings like they’re your personal souvenirs.

Keep your volume appropriate, because other people are having their own quiet moment.

Ask before filming people, or at least read the room and give space.

Reverence and fun can coexist. In the video, there’s laughter and chanting, but also this steady awareness of, “Okay, there’s a drop behind us, let’s not get too wild.”

Dancing and Chanting in Public, A Simple Bhakti Practice You Can Try

Juicy MagiK on the go has this light, traveling vibe: moving through the world with singing, dancing, sharing food, and what they call “high philosophy,” which they point out is actually simple enough that a child can understand it.

That’s a very bhakti way to speak. In plain language:

  • Bhakti is devotion, the heart leaning toward God.
  • Mantra is a phrase repeated to focus the mind and heart.
  • Kirtan is chanting, often call-and-response, usually with a beat and a lot of warmth.

It doesn’t have to be fancy. It can be two people in a small space, clapping, smiling, and trying not to step backward off a ledge.

If you’re curious about kirtan as a practice, a broader starting point is Kirtan Center, Bhakti Yoga and Kirtan Meditation, which explains the tradition and the feel of it.

The “Gopala Govinda Rama” chant, what it is and why repetition works

The chant they start playing with is a simple line of divine names, sung rhythmically and repeated, with clapping:

“Gopala, Govinda, Rama…”

You can think of it like turning your mind into a bell. Same sound, again and again, until the noise inside you settles. Across many traditions, repeating sacred names is a way to steady attention, soften the heart, and come back to what matters.

In Vaishnava traditions, names like Govinda and Gopala are names of Krishna. If you want a simple glossary-style breakdown of those names, Govinda Govinda Gopala (mantra glossary) gives clear meanings and context.

And repetition works in a very human way. Not as a magic trick, just as a practice:

You repeat the name, you breathe.

You breathe, your shoulders drop.

Your shoulders drop, your mind stops racing (at least for a minute).

You remember you’re alive, and not just thinking about life.

No big promises. Just a common, down-to-earth effect many people report: they feel calmer, more present, less tangled up.

How to do a 2-minute travel kirtan, even if you feel awkward

You don’t need a stage. You don’t need perfect pitch. You don’t need to be “a chant person.” You just need a couple minutes and a willingness to look a little silly.

Here’s a simple way to try it:

  1. Pick a short mantra you can remember (even one line).
  2. Set a gentle beat, clapping or tapping your hand on your leg.
  3. Sing the line slowly for 20 to 30 seconds.
  4. Repeat it, same melody, same pace.
  5. Keep your voice at a level that fits the place (park voice, not concert voice).
  6. Stop before you get tired, while it still feels sweet.

A few small tips that help:

Start softer than you think you should. You can always get louder later.

Smile, even if you feel weird. The face teaches the heart.

Choose locations with room. A trail clearing, a quiet beach, a living room, a car parked safely.

In the video, the space is tight, the drop is close, and that actually makes the point stronger. Spiritual life isn’t only for perfect settings. Sometimes it’s right there in the awkward little corner you’ve got.

Gravity Does Not Care, A Clear Lesson About Truth and Real Awakening

Then comes the joke that lands like a teaching.

They point out the edge behind them, and the idea goes like this: you can have any opinion you want about gravity, you can even announce that you don’t “self-identify” with it, but gravity still works the same way.

It’s funny, but it’s also clean. Cause and effect does not wait for our beliefs to catch up.

The edge test, when a physical risk becomes a spiritual reminder

A steep drop has a way of making you honest.

You feel your feet. You check your balance. You stop performing and start paying attention. It’s a reminder that a spiritual path isn’t separate from the body. It includes the body.

Presence can look very unromantic:

  • Don’t back up without looking.
  • Don’t get so excited you forget your surroundings.
  • Don’t treat a real edge like a metaphor only.

That kind of groundedness is part of devotion too. It’s a form of respect, for life, for breath, for the people with you, for the place you’re standing.

Opinion vs reality, what the gravity joke is really saying

The joke is pointing at something we all do. We argue with reality in our heads, as if reality is going to blink first.

But the laws of nature, and the patterns of cause and effect, don’t take votes.

Here are a few everyday “gravity” examples that aren’t about temples:

Sleep: You can tell yourself you don’t need rest, but your focus will still slide.

Food: You can pretend what you eat doesn’t affect you, but your body keeps receipts.

Kindness: You can act harshly and claim it “doesn’t matter,” but trust still breaks.

Money: You can ignore your budget, but the numbers still add up.

This doesn’t have to feel harsh. It can feel freeing. Once you stop arguing with what is true, you get your energy back. You can use it for something better, like singing, serving, building relationships, making amends, offering prayers.

What “real awakening” can look like in daily life

They also touch on “woke” language, but they’re not pushing politics. The point is simpler: to get really awake, you have to awaken, and then the temporary stuff falls away.

Real awakening can look quiet. It can look like ordinary choices, done with more honesty.

A simple checklist that fits this vibe:

Tell the truth to yourself: Even if it’s messy.

Notice when ego flares up: The “I’m right” heat in the chest.

Choose the next right action: Not the dramatic one, the clean one.

Forgive faster: Not because it was okay, but because you don’t want to carry it.

Return to prayer or mantra: Again and again, because minds wander.

It’s not a performance. It’s a practice.

Chanting Blessings for Everyone Seen and Unseen, Plus Prasad as Kindness in Action

Near the end, the mood turns tender. They mention walking around Palenque and chanting as a blessing for everyone, including the “seen and unseen.” They don’t claim to know exactly what’s there, but they hold the idea that old places may carry traces, memories, maybe even presences.

And the response is not fear. It’s goodwill.

Chanting becomes a way of offering something kind into the air.

A respectful way to talk about spirits without fear or certainty

Some people feel strongly about spirits. Some people don’t. The video treats it gently, as a devotional belief and also a compassionate intention.

The heart of it is this: even if you don’t know who is listening, you can still offer a blessing.

In that view, the vibration of sacred names helps all living beings. It’s a faith statement, yes, but it’s also a human one. Words affect rooms. Tone affects people. A calm presence can change the feel of a place.

So they chant, and they let that be enough.

Prasad on the road, how offering and sharing food becomes a daily practice

They also mention what they often do in their travels: sharing “pashadam” (prasad), described as healthy, offered vegetarian food.

Prasad (often spelled prasada) is food that’s first offered in prayer, then shared. If you want a simple definition and background, Prasada (religious food offering) covers the general idea across traditions.

The beauty of it is how practical it is. You don’t have to wait for a big event to be devotional. You can do it with lunch.

For travelers, prasad can be very simple:

  • Fruit you wash and offer with gratitude
  • Nuts or bread shared with a friend
  • A basic homemade meal, offered quietly before eating

The “offering” part is the heart turning upward. The “sharing” part is the heart turning outward.

And honestly, sharing food is one of the most human forms of kindness. It crosses language barriers. It softens awkwardness. It says, without a speech, “You matter.”

If you want to connect with their community, they mention the Juicy MagiK Agora, which is their website and community portal: Juicy MagiK Agora registration.

Conclusion

A steep drop behind your heels is a strange kind of teacher. It says, “Stay light, but stay here.” At Palenque, the message comes through singing and clapping, laughing and chanting, and also through a simple truth: gravity doesn’t care, and neither do the basic laws of cause and effect.

If you want to carry this into your day, keep it small. Try a 2-minute chant, take a mindful walk where you really watch your step, or share a simple vegetarian meal with gratitude. May your path be joyful and grounded, and may peace be with you and upon you.

author avatar
mariakerwin
As a former serial entrepreneur, she turned from a workaholic in the business world to freedom and creativity, living now as a writer, creator and world traveller. Since an early age Maria is close to death and what exists beyond, courageously exploring the dimensions of existence. A Kundalini Awakening guided her into the abyss of fully surrendering to the life force itself, crushing all known aspects of her old life. Finally, it led her to her purpose of bridging both worlds, connecting to what goes beyond the ordinary.

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