Grand Canyon Thoughts
Though I’d like to think I did, I didn’t conquer the Grand Canyon. No one does. Rather, I joined with it.
On the return hike up and out, I took a break about 5 minutes from the top. I stood in the most beautiful place I had ever seen – not just because I could, but because I wanted to. The realization came to me that I didn’t do it for the certificate or just because I was being paid to do it. I did it for me. For all that I can be. And yes, to prove that I could. But to whom? Good question. To myself. To my doubters.
As I came back to the rim I passed through joy and into peace. Utter and complete. I’m not a Goddess, but only a woman who struggled her way up one more figurative peak. I know a thousand things I’ve done might be insignificant. But not this. This marks me.
I’ve gone through some hell in my life, and made it through to the other side. Mostly out of necessity.
I think, because I have done this, I might be a better person. A better partner, a better mother. I haven’t earned all that I have. Not the way I earned this moment. The desire to be more strikes me as I stand in the cold looking at the world of pain and beauty below me, curtained now by storm clouds that tempt me to dive through them. To hurry back into that pain and that beauty.
Strange that I should stand there, where I so desperately wanted to be, and ache for what I had left behind. All the pain and the sheer misery of the cold wash out of me. There is only the moment. No fear of death or life. No anger, no sorrow, no history and no future. Only the moment.
Reality rushes back in.
It’s crowded at the top. People swarm and ooh and ahh and snap pictures of each other posing with nature. They speak very loudly and never stop to reflect on the beauty. They ask questions. “How long were you down there?” And comment, “I could never do that.”
I didn’t think I could either.