Final Hours and Final Thoughts in the Desert

Last Sunset in the desert

My final day in Colorado was all the way back on the 10th of June. I spent the day in the absolute best way possible, exploring all of the rest of the trails I wanted to wander lost in the wonder while not being lost at all. I think it was my smog I lost for a while. I drove to the other side of the Mesa Verde Park to look up close at ancient carvings from the Pueblo people, thousands of year old corn, new to me birds, and of course vistas. I know that I sometimes view the world from a different perspective than others, but there are times when that starkness is more obvious than others. I was at a site first thing in the morning, a ranger was placed there to point out the special artifacts and to make sure crazed tourists didn’t climb on the remains. I was immediately drawn to a new bird who I had yet to meet, I loved seeing nature thriving in a space where we once actively humaned. The baffled ranger kindly told me the bird was Say’s Pheobe and that it was their 2nd nesting of the season. She promptly moved onto the artifacts that people usually want to see, after pointing a laser at a cob of ancient corn, I asked if working here altered her sense of reality- followed by a blank stare- I thought- I just need to elucidate more! So, I forge on- well to be standing here, where once an ancient culture lived in abundance but what remains is corn and dust- to see this every day must put mortality into a different light for you. At this point, eyes were completely glazed- I laughed hoping to ease everyone’s discomfort- and just said or not. We concluded with her saying she tries not to think about it. As I set out on my path alone again in all sense of the phrase, I mulled over how I forget that not everyone fills empty moments wrestling with what it means to be alive and ultimately what being alive means knowing 100% we will all die. Content for the time to walk that path alone too, I hiked the trails that lead me away from everyone else and brought me to a canyon where it was just me, the sand, yucca, and Raven.

After my glorious day of hiking I began to pack up my back pack to return home to prep for the next leg of my trip- Ireland. That night I found out that my flight overseas was cancelled because of weather and the airlines who were routing around it were charging WAY more than I could cover- so in a blink Ireland was off the table. In normal times I am pretty easy going, knowing that things work out. Unfortunately, in the early phase of grief trauma is stirred up and I had to ride out a dark night of the soul solo. I did my breath work, I did affirmations, I did body scans- my heart rate wouldn’t slow, I shivered, I was AWAKE. I realized that at that moment that was where I was going to be so rather than fixate on trying to relax to sleep I would allow myself to stay awake. I turned my light on, pulled out my kindle, and read an entire book. I was not too sleepy to drive to the airport and by cozying into a story my body took care of herself. I know that Ireland will happen for me at some point, but just like I usually trust, it did work out that I was postponed because I tested positive for COVID 2 days later and spent a week and a half sick at home with Andy.

That time at home sick, was another lesson in sitting with my grief, oh how I resented the universe parking my butt at home where I could escape. I wanted to poke at the wound of my grief on my terms- away from everyday life where I was able to choose when I mentally lifted the gauze to asses the ooze of my inner landscape. Now I was inside for 10 days prowling the floor plan aching and stuck. But, much like the night of panic, eventually I let myself ease into it and even that resistance dissipated.

So now I am home and trying to see what this new life is. I spend time helping Grammy, I read, and I listen. Change is afoot again in my life. I know by now that when big deaths happen it does nothing short of asking us to investigate bigger questions. I see my mother all through my kitchen but I also feel her in my heart. She sends me animals and messages and I talk to her. I am learning and asking what does my relationship with her look like now that the make up of her matter has changed.

So, with that I think I will leave you all here. Next week I will share with you my trip to Kripalu and some life changes I am making. I will be forever grateful that Mommy gave me the gift of Mesa Verde and I know each year I will make my way back to the desert to burn out some of this smog.