Today I almost didn’t. I had the day off and as I drank my coffee I thought of the million little things I needed to get done. I need to finish Marie Kondo-ing my books/papers. I need to wash my car. I need to do meal prep for the week. The list is endless, just like yours. But recently it hit me that we will be in Arizona one year at the end of March. And I haven’t done the one thing that pulled my heart to this state to begin with. I want to be in it’s beautiful desert. And yes, we live in a desert state but seriously, the Phoenix valley is developed. I mean get IN it. Why haven’t I done the one thing my heart really wants to do?
I simply find the path of least resistance easier, like many of us do, and I chose to do what is easy rather than what is new or maybe appears harder. This is why I battle with weight, this is why I don’t blog or write every single day, this is why I cannot for the life of me seem to finish knitting my sister-in-laws scarf I wanted to give her two Christmas’ ago! I’m just gonna say it: I’m lazy and most days I choose to just “blerg” my way through. But not today.
Today I just got up and went. I got my water and left a detailed description of my clothes with Frank (in case someone has to identify my remains after the coyote attack) and I got in my car and drove the 5 minutes to the most beautiful desert trail, the Thunderbird Conservation Park. I felt like a dork because I am not an experienced hiker at all. So I had a back pack full of water and granola bars in case I got my hand stuck between two rocks like that guy from 147 Hours. I realized it was a little overkill when a couple in their 70’s asked to pass me because I was too slow. But my point is that I got on the path.
The view was glorious and the air was fresh and cool. The sun warmed my soul and my shoulders and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. “What took you so long?” my heart asked me. “I was just stuck,” I said. I was so excited I climbed up the Ridgeline path because I wanted to be able to see how far I could go before a heart attack occurred. As I climbed, my mind raced with ideas, both for writing and for returning. Now that I had disrupted my inertia could I come back every week? How long will it take me to train so I can hike around the whole preserve?
This is what I do though, I jump from one thought to the next. So, as I reached the ridgeline, I stopped and I took out one of my water bottles and sat. I looked at the view and thought of nothing. I just let my mind rest. And my heart rate slowed and my eyes focused on the small rocks and shrubs at my feet and I saw a lizard and an orange butterfly (that may have been a moth). And I thought of the work that I moved here to accomplish for myself. After a while I made a stone stack overlooking where the paths split below. I’m trying hard to let go of my need to know which path is right or where I should be. Whichever path I take is correct because I am on it and there is so much beauty to see.
