Finding My Way

January 15, 2011 to November 15, 2017

Approaching Monument Valley from the north, seeing the iconic profiles of these ancient stone formations rising from the floor of the living desert, one's senses struggle to process the scale of the moment. The basic shapes rise above the curve of the earth, shrouded in gray waves of atmospheric distortion, ghostly impressions of the time past and eternity to come. As one draws nearer, the heated air loses some of its refractive quality. The reflected reds, oranges, yellows, browns, and greens press against the light-sensing cells in the back of the eye, and one feels drawn out of the present and into a timeless moment where the immensity of what nature has created quickens the pulse and draws the breath out in shallow, anticipatory pulses.

By the time the narrow highway twists through the slalom of these sacred stones, so that the enormity of their bulk fills the eyes and mind, all sensation of other life vanishes into the stillness of a perpetual silence. The temptation is strong to pull over, abandon the automobile and possessions and all that connects one to modernity, to climb up into a crevice of the nearest citadel, certain that one of a wise elder race waits deep in the chilly halls to answer all questions, present all meaning, and explain what is true and what is illusion.

Afterward, reflecting on the first time I drove through this valley, it occurred to me that the timelessness I felt was my own inner longing for something permanent, fixed, and unchanging, and that the belief in such, the longing for such, the pursuit of such combined into the great delusion of life. For as we all recognize, everything we can sense or know changes, nothing is permanent. Even those ancient stones, the planet they stand upon, and the star that illuminates them will one day be gone. "This too shall pass," my father-in-law is fond of saying. There is wisdom in knowing such. There is peace in accepting it.

It also occurred to me that my journey from illness to the present bore wisdom to the same truth. Like the gray profile of the sacred stones, my sickness came upon me slowly, growing one cell and symptom at a time until it filled every moment of my existence, every particle of my awareness. Engulfed in flames of fever and bodily inflammation, struck to my knees with pain, unable to put together a single clear thought, I sought relief in medication, in sleep, in the darkest recesses of fear and exhaustion, seeking any lighted path that led to meaning in my suffering.

It is not overdramatizing to say that the past six years have been the most profound in leading me to acceptance of the impermanence of everything. It would also not be hyperbolic to suggest that this journey was necessary and ultimately rewarding. Perhaps you or someone you know has had a similar experience. Perhaps you are just starting on the road to finding the value of suffering, or you have long ago left it behind you. In any case, if you know the journey, or are simply curious about its many layers, this site was created for you. My journey helped me find the way back to a state of remarkable health. The physical damage that cannot be reversed provides me with perspective. The mental and spiritual work required to accept the irreversible changes in my life goes on. Although we each travel alone in our unique path as defined by place, time, direction, and velocity, we share that with everyone who has ever drawn breath. I am not alone. Nor are you.

I'll be sharing my story and the joyful teachings of the experience, yes, joyful. One cannot know joy without experiencing its opposite. And, I believe, one can choose to accept both but turn toward either. For now, my face is away from the shadows. For now, I am happy to be alive.