Sights to see near and far
My husband and I had a moment last summer when we realized that, in our zeal to show our kids how big and how broad and how diverse this world of ours is, we had managed to show them very little of our own amazing country. Thus was born the idea of a family trip to the Grand Canyon. At the very least, we thought, we’d get their domestic explorations going by visiting a truly indescribable place.
And the Grand Canyon really does defy description. Trust me, for four whole days we tried. We settled on “America’s Crack” for its hilarity, but having walked along it, hiked down and up it, and biked beside it, we all agreed that there are simply no words grand enough for what we were experiencing.
Too big to grasp
Though I had visited the canyon twice before, seeing it this time still moved me to tears. It does something to the heart to be confronted with such staggering beauty and mind-bending enormity. At first, I thought I was being moved by what I could see. The colors – pinks, golds, purples, creams, and soft greens. The shapes – sharp, jagged drop-offs, flat mesas, pointy-topped cones, sheer rock walls. The grove of trees on what appeared to be the floor of the canyon.
But there is way more to the canyon than you can see from any one point. The Grand Canyon is 122 miles long and zigs and zags so much that a birds’ eye image of it looks almost like pleats. In addition to its beauty, part of what moved me to tears at our first scenic vista was the mysteriousness of its hugeness. It is not often in life that you look at something so large that you cannot begin to grasp it.
In those first moments at the canyon, as I stood and stared, I slowly realized that what looked like the floor ended abruptly and not at the wall on the far side. There was a whole other canyon beyond the one – within the one – I could see! In that instant, I went from trying to wrap my head around the Grand Canyon to allowing myself to be wrapped up in the Grand Canyon. I shifted from an eager attempt at comprehension to total surrender to awe.
Sometimes life is too big to grasp
In hindsight, I realize that my eagerness to comprehend or to understand shows up an awful lot in my life. Not only does it show up, but this aspect of myself is very tenacious. In fact, rather than surrendering, I hold on with white knuckles and superhuman strength when life gets so “big” that it defies my abilities to wrap my head around what just happened, or what is happening, or (this is the doozy) what is going to happen.
This response to challenges, worries, and fears, I have learned the hard way, does nothing but make the challenge, worry, or fear at hand even more challenging, worrisome and scary. It is also exhausting precisely at a time when what I most need is to be nurtured.
It turns out that knowing all of this has done nothing to guarantee that I will avoid repeating such behavior. It is because of this that, I think, my sudden feeling of surrender at the Grand Canyon seemed like such an incredible relief. What if, I keep thinking, I could let go in the face of the unknowable, of incomparable hugeness, and of mystery in my life as I did when standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon? Can I receive my real-life moments “at the edge” with even a smidge of the wonder and awe that I felt that evening on what felt like the edge of the world?
Wonder and awe help us to embrace the wild and often bumpy ride of life
Once again, I have returned from a trip simply astonished by the treasure I’ve brought home. The gift of a moment of awe and wonder, a moment of feeling impossibly small, a moment of knowing that there is absolutely no way I can understand what I am experiencing is that these truths no longer feel daunting. Because I stood on that actual rim and felt comforted and held by its mystery, I pray, I will be better able to stand on the metaphoric “rims” of the seemingly unsolvable parts of my life. I pray in these moments that I will at least entertain a sense of wonder.
While you may not be able to dash off to Arizona, I hope that by sharing this experience I am also sharing a little of the comfort and equanimity that I brought home with me. Maybe, instead of trying to white knuckle our way to understanding, we can help each other to remember to default to wonder and to seek awe the next time our lives take an(other) unexpected turn.
If a trip to the Grand Canyon is not in your immediate future, here’s a way to create a sense of wonder and awe closer to home. Think of the largest tree you’ve noticed in your area. For me the one that comes to mind is about 20 minutes away by car. Go to it and lie down at the base of its trunk. Imagine the roots stretching through the ground beneath you as grandly as its branches spread toward the sky. Marvel at all that has happened in the world as it stood its ground. Wonder as you see or listen to all the life that lives in and around it. Feel how you are welcomed and held by that “community.” Before you stand back up, feel how fleeting and small you are in comparison to this magnificent being. Let that be a relief.