What the Grand Canyon taught me about going into my own depths.
The dream started several years ago, once I knew that it was even an option to do so. To hike the Grand Canyon. Wow, it sounds so illustrious just typing it out. I started to fall in love with hiking, with going into the wild taking one step at a time, to go deeper into the wild and fully immerse myself in only wildness. The idea of hiking the GC seemed to be the wildest great lure.
In my heart I knew, only because of my already unique relationship with nature, that this hike in the Grand Canyon, the grandest of canyons on this planet, would absolutely move my emotions, I knew I would feel her. I underestimated her, and myself, however, in many ways. The beauty was not a surprise, breathtaking, beauty far beyond words or pictures. It was the degree of difficulty and challenge of climbing back up that ended up being my greatest surprise.
We started our hike at 5:30 in the morning, the temperature was 22 degrees. We were among about 20 other dedicated hikers beginning our day long hike. The air was palpable with excitement as our group snatched our last picture together. We would quickly separate on our hike as some people choose to run down the canyon. The 6-mile hike down the South Kaibab trail seemed to be an invitation too many to fly, to literally go with the flow. My small group, however, intended to breathe it all in, to capture the views and endless beauty.
Each step down into the Grand Canyon is full of excitement and offers one a seamless abundance of beauty unlike anything else you’ve ever seen. Colors and crevasses greet you at every corner. So many different textures of dirt and rock even from one step to the next. As the sun rose to kiss the sky and greet this great canyon, she offered a highlight of her magnificence that radiated the canyons and rocks as if they were neon signs.
Within just a couple of hours, we found the bottom of the canyon. We celebrated the first journey of our hike by playing in the Colorado River, well, putting our feet and hands in the crisp, flowing tide. I remember thinking how blessed I am to journey not only in the Grand Canyon but to get to sit with the Colorado River. It was all breathtaking.
Then we started the hike to get ourselves out of the Grand Canyon. This is where the fun really begins, well at least it did for us, okay, and not exactly fun at all. We took the Bright Angel trail to hike out, an almost 12-mile journey that would end up shaking us to our core and luring us into our depths.
To hike up, through elevation changes, for almost 12 miles is not something for the faint of heart. Literally, it is very taxing on the body. It challenges you physically, but emotionally and mentally. You begin to recognize others that are on the same journey as you. They had that same focused and exhausted determination. We would pass them as they were resting on the side of the trail, soaking up shade. Then later on the trail, they would pass us as we were resting. Most of these like-hearted hikers wouldn’t say anything to us, nor would we to them. We would just look at each other and we would know that were on the same journey. Feeling it all the same.
Along the last 5 miles of trail, several more people would be passing us coming down and going back up. Most people would hike down from the top to anywhere from a mile down to almost 5 miles to take in the bountiful offering and campsites. These people would pass us with ease, they were still very jovial and talkative. Most distinctively, there dress was fresh and clean. See us journeyers of the deep were covered in dust, dirty from so much dirt stomping; covered in sweat – inevitable even in the cooler weather; and even blood – for me it was a fall about 3 miles in. Our people were covered in dust, sweat, and blood. It began to remind of what Brene (Brown) speaks of while in the arena.
The last 3 miles of the hike, well, were really without words again. Just not so much beauty. There was a lot of pain in those 3 miles. The beauty was around us but not what we were focused on. With an end of a long hike, hours of upward climbing, and an incline that is quite frankly hard to properly prepare for, well, this is the point the great GC will break you down. She breaks you right open because there are only two ways out at this point; keep going even through the pain and fatigue or call for a very expensive helicopter ride. It was never really an option for any of us, however, it does play in your mind that is the only other way. You must go on, you must get through the difficult part, there is no other way to get out.
Almost 3pm in the afternoon, with about ¼ of a mile left to the end of the trail, I stopped and waited for my group. I sat almost to the top of the Grand Canyon and received her vast majestic views of her abundance beauty. I looked down to where I had come from. The river that only hours earlier had washed my hands was now completely removed from the view. I couldn’t see where I had been, but I felt it in every cell of my body and heart. I knew where I had been and what I rose up from.
It was this moment, leaning on a giant rock, afraid to sit down because of how bad it would hurt to stand again, that I realized the gift the Grand Canyon had REALLY offered me. See, she showed me right then, that the only way to experience the depth of her massive beauty and bliss that she had to offer was to also experience the depth of the struggle and her difficulty. To know firsthand the pain of going into the deep. They went hand-in-hand, the pain and beauty, the depth and the rising. She revealed to me that my own depths need not be something to fear. She invited me into the reminder that even when it’s painful and scary, and I don’t always feel like I will get out, my depths will always offer me the greatest beauty and abundant path into my own heart and soul. Just as I got to experience with her, the greatest of greats, the Grand Canyon.
She also showed me that my people, the ones I want to journey with, are also not afraid of the depths. They are the ones covered in dirt and sweat and blood. These people reminded me that the more often you go to great depths, such as the practice one gets in hiking the Grand Canyon, the easier it actually becomes.
I know that I have lots of practice in experiencing the depths of my own soul. I also know that no matter what great depths lie in front of me I have what it takes to rise out of them. I am surrounded by those who will support me, to always get out of where I am. I know there will always be beauty and pain along the way. And it’s all needed, all of it. And I am ready to experience great depths, the kind that only the Grand Canyon can offer, so I can experience the abundance and beauty that is only in the same places.
Thank you, Grand Canyon. I can’t wait to see you again.