Sunday, August 22, 2010

Sharing Superstitions

I remember when the air was cool and the breezes fresh; back when scorching heat had not yet tiptoed into the desert -blistering all in its path… I took to the hills for a hike. I wanted to let my mind unwind, gratitude unfold, and peace-n-quiet seep inside of me.

I stood, facing the Superstition Mountains alone. I came to breathe-deep of this place that I love. Those of you who know the Superstitions, also know they’re one of my ‘happy places’ for I have criss-crossed its slopes dozens of times. There were so few people on the mountain that day that I never really encountered anyone; and thus, I was allowed the revelry of my own thoughts.

As I hiked along I was surprised to hear the soft sounds of moving water, and I thought, ‘hmm, I don’t recall water running thru here…,’ but it had been awhile since I’d put foot to these paths… and things do change… so I stopped, quieted my breaths and listened; I wanted to find its origin. I couldn’t hear it now. So I continued on and up. Again I heard the sound of water, so I fully stopped, closed my eyes to filter out my own assumptions of what-was-and-wasn’t-there, and I listened again.

Everything came alive in the undisturbed quiet. Now I heard buzzing insects, birds calling, and the rustle of desert shrubs…  I stood silently and remembered how much I love the smell of a dirt trail, of sage, and flowering cactus and such…but nope, there were no sounds of water. I thought, ‘good grief, I’m losin’ it!’ so again, I continued up-slope. The water sound returned. ‘Ahh!’ I said aloud, and softly chuckled to my surroundings; I realized it was my water bottle, gently slapping against my rather dainty rear-end.
[Yes, I am that woman.]

The vistas were grand and crystal-clear that day. I saw all the way to Camelback Mountain, and Phoenix cut its unique skyline into the heavens. Straight ahead, north and east, lay smaller mountains folding into one another and covered with velvety scrub; and the sky above held chunky white clouds resting against cobalt blue.
The Superstition Mountain herself loomed before me like some prehistoric Ship, sailing across bone-dry wilderness. God, I love this place.

I hiked higher and longer than I had planned, and each step brought delight and joy. Wildflowers peeked out from around stones and cactus bloom'd.  Breathing hard, I rested the afore-mentioned ‘dainty’ on an overlook bench, and with some calming breaths I eased into my new surroundings and became immersed in them. Far surpassing a vase with a dozen roses... if you really want to turn me on, bring me a bouquet of desert.

Resting there, my thoughts spun out before me in interesting ways; I saw things in my head; and something surprising happened: images of friends and family came before me and mingled together.  You were there in my mind... and also right in front of me, lounging on rocks, looking into the distance, hands angled over brows, shielding the sun…talking, smiling and laughing along the trail… I connected with each of you and loved the feeling and the ‘sense’ of having everyone I care about hanging-out together in this most extraordinary place.
In time, I made my way back down, but not without imparting to you, all the joy and excitement; confidence and contentment; love and tenderness, your lives can hold.

You know, driving into work each morning I see the Superstitions hunkered in the dusky early light of morn', and more often now, the sun emerging from behind them. Odd as it may seem, there is always that moment where I give it a nod of recognition and admiration.  and because the sun’s right there, I will take those very moments to reverently recite the Sun Salutation.

Namaste’ my friends.

1 comment:

  1. Wildflower, I love reading your blogs. I think we all appreciate the desert most of all when she is able to be traversed without the fear of death. I was waiting to relive the ability to see the waves of heat rising off the rock, and I was relieved when I didn't.

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