An End Is A Beginning
I was in Joshua Tree at the beginning of April. My whole life, spring has been a time to head west into some desert. When I lived in Colorado, it would often be around Moab, sometimes the Saguaro-punctuated outskirts of dusty towns like Tucson. Now that I live in the Nevada desert, specifically Las Vegas, Joshua Tree is the destination to escape from this oasis.
A lifetime of desert camping has imprinted a few beliefs on a soul level:
- Wide expanses of strange plants are good for the imagination.
- Visiting brutal environments fosters a deep respect for forces outside of yourself, as well as capabilities of your own self.
- I can do whatever I want. Leave town. Hike through the desert. Go off the grid. Read the Borders trilogy on top of snakes’ rocky homes.
There is a type of solace in this retreat. The magic, the anticipation, the requisite U2 album blasting through the car stereo on repeat.
This year, though, something was different. I was fully aware of the fact that I was 29 weeks pregnant the week that we were going. But it wasn’t until I was in the singular heat that I understood what that meant. After a one mile hike, fairly level throughout, not strenuous, I was all but leveled. I had to go back to our house and lay down. My hips hurt. I felt off balance from the minimal rock scrambling that required a different orientation to my increasingly dense center of gravity. I needed water.
At one point, my brother came up to me and asked how I was doing. I immediately broke into tears and cried “I’m really pregnant.” It might sound like the most obvious and silly thing that one could say at that time, but it was true. I’m really pregnant and it hit me all of a sudden that things have shifted. My old self that could do whatever she wanted was now required to think about whatever the new life inside of her needed. I felt desperately sorry for myself. I started thinking about the week ahead where I wouldn’t be able to hang out with the crew as they went on adventures in the sun, adding a tan to the muscles.
I was so confined.
The next morning, I had coffee out on the back deck getting ready for a call that I had scheduled with an amazing singer songwriter on the other side of the country. I soaked in the sun and started visualizing her being incredibly successful. I started feeling a glow, I felt grounded, I felt ready. For what, I wasn’t sure. My baby started kicking and I realized: I can do whatever I want.
I’ve built the business of my dreams helping people who are committed to creation and honoring their calling to sing/write/draw/play – whatever it is. I’ve done it in a way that I can be a present mother. I’m able to take the business all over the world so that my status as a military spouse doesn’t hold me back from living my own purpose.
I invite you to take a look at something that you think is holding you back and do a little digging and see if you can’t find if there’s a blind spot that’s holding space for major self discovery. Maybe you don’t feel like you have enough money or connections. Or possibly enough time. There’s a strong possibility that you might have missed an opportunity to really honor the capacities that you do have. With a restriction of time, there’s an opportunity to create a powerful schedule that supports your success. With a restriction of money, there’s the opportunity to be creative with the resources that you do have. If it’s a lack of connections, maybe it’s an opportunity to break out of your current social circle through networking events or apps like Shapr.
I might not be able to go hiking. This trip. But I know I’m able to do something else. Something that requires a lot of energy. A lot of focus. And when I am ready, the paths will still be there to explore. More of my thoughts here in this video: