Lessons I Teach Myself
Lessons I Teach Myself
Our eyes change when we travel:
Suddenly we notice our partner's toothbrush, although they've used it for a couple of months now.
We notice the moon as it shifts positions as we drive along the route. Does it always move so seamlessly?
We gaze at the stars as if we've never seen stars before.
We see people and wonder 'where are they from?' 'Have they been to where I'm going?' 'Can we become unexpected life-long friends?'
We look at time as what it really is: an illusion, a made-up agreement us humans have with each other in order to have, well, order.
We gain perspective on our miniature lives, and our worries seem so trivial. So banal. So unimportant.
Day 2 is spent mostly on the road. On the path, and off the beaten path.
On route from a small town in south Utah where we stayed the night, to the impressive and less touristy part of the Grand Canyon - The North Rim.
When one visits a place they've heard of their entire life, one's heart immediately beats with unstoppable rhythm. As if it will soon burst out of one's chest.
So there I am, standing in front of a view so captivating, so massive, so filled-with-perspective for the mere ant that I am, that I am motionless and still. Like a master yogi who has perfected the art of relaxation. I am far calmer than my usual state: My mind goes blank. No thoughts are valuable when one is simply mesmerized.
After the initial awe, I start feeling my body again and get used to the gorgeous surroundings, and we hike a bit to see more of this enormous canyon. Some travelers are walking by us, masks on, eyes eating up the scenery. 'Where are they from? Have they been here before? Where are they headed to next?' I wonder when my mind shows signs of returning thoughts.
We find a shaded view point, and get settled for some outdoor meditation.
A quick one. Ten minutes peace of mind on top of the world.
As I am sitting cross-legged on a rock, eyes closed, palms up to the heaven, I hear the wind as it creates the most beautiful melody. (If you listen closely, the wind is an orchestra, well conducted and filled with drama and 'pizazz'.) I start following the rhythm of the wind with my arms, as if I was its conductor, or as if it was conducting my own movements. The wind grows louder, it turns soft, it stops, and then again. With passion, energy and drive, and then into calmness and peace. And again with energy and drive, and again into serene quietude. The wind echoes through the canyons as if it was serenading to it. Or performing to its vast valleys and rivers. It is a key player in this majestic top of the world. I am an audience to this brilliant performance. Bravo, dear wind. Bravo.
We drive off fulfilled from our short unforgettable stop.
We bounce in between the state of Arizona, and the state of Utah, and I watch as the time on my Iphone switches back and forth. How interesting it is to travel through time? I wonder to myself. And soon more wonderings follow suit. I wonder about the land, I wonder about its inhabitants, I wonder about its past, I wonder about its future....
That is the way we change when we travel: We wonder as we wander.
And WONDER is key for life to be more WONDERFUL...
To be continued...
Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog that may, or may not be, of any significance to anyone other than herself. If you found her lil' life lessons, stories, poems and blurbs meaningful to you, well that's f**ing amazing! Comment and share so she can pat herself in the back - she doesn't do that nearly enough. Cheers.