Heading South: changing seasons, rearview mirrors & feeling small

Returning back to Minnesota with 60 degree sunshine pounding the pavement.
Tooling around on the lend-away-banjo, playing the only four chords I have been able to muster.

Flagstaff Arizona - Blind Spot Creatives
 


I spent the last two weeks down South in the desert beauty of Arizona and Utah - starting off with a visit to grandmas and ending the week wandering with a fellow ramblin' gypsy soul. I always leave as if I'm going to find something, figure something out, let something go, come back with new eyes... and I guess, in a subtle, quiet way, that might be the case. But for the most part, things aren't different, just deeper, maybe understood a little more clearly.

 
Blind Spot Creatives - Grand Canyon Sunrise
 

I woke up well before the sunrise in order to climb out of my sleeping bag and navigate the backroads in the pitch black. Heading North making it to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon with an hour to spare. The stars were still glowing as a gentle haze hit the horizon. I perched myself off in the distance in an attempt to avoid the crowds, watching as the sun slowly changed the landscape.

New layers revealed with each minute that passed.

6 billion year old sediment finding its way from weathered storms and erosion... it made me think how precious time and patience really are. Change takes time - in the case of some of the most beautiful landscapes the world has to offer, it takes a lot of time.

And so do I....

 
National Monument Utah - Blind Spot Creatives
 

As the day wore on I continued my journey towards Utah. Passing by on Arizona 89 winding through the lush greenery of spring, I begin to notice the rearview... A chance to glance at what was just witnessed with a sense of departure and appreciation - never looking too long, because in doing so I'd miss what lies ahead. 

Hours were spent weaving through National Monument. Once upon a time it was the home of a sub-tropical rainforest with evidence of dinosaurs and evolutionary findings. Now a hot, hollow desert landscape. The colors, textures and terrain changed with every curve in the road.

Change, change is all around us.

 
Blind Spot Creatives - Blooming Cactus
 

I arrived in Zion. My last trip out was in November. The air was colder then, the roads dustier, the trees limp of life. The seasons had transitioned as the cottonwoods lined the valley floor, a whole new face painted as the sage had a turquoise hue contrasting the bright red and orange sandstone and the cactus blooms just beginning to bud. 

 
Zion National Park - Blind Spot Creatives
 

The week was in constant movement with little sense of time, almost no direction and a bit of space for reflection. Each look-out another opportunity to pause, soak in the scene, to breathe. Everything around me was bigger than life, simple, adaptable... Momentarily provoking a small, unimportant, frivilous feeling.

If only I could hold on to this moment and carry it with me everywhere I go...

 
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Lying on the rocks looking at the world spin upside down, I wonder why it is so easy to become forgetful, caught up and deluded to my emotions. Somewhere deep inside hides an identification, a super-imposed significance, the idea that the universe revolves around me and my pettiness. As the shadows dance upon the pines I fill with humility, followed with humbleness. 

 
Mike Dunn - Blind Spot Creatives
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I'm not the easiest person to spend extended amounts of time with. I have this horrible tendency to be overbearing, honest to a fault, casting off unruly, unnecessary, and unrealistic expectations... However, the company shared was a graceful reminder to how important it is to have people challenge you, to question your train of thought and to keep your emotions in check. Oh, how I appreciate the genuine.

 
Zion Trees - Blind Spot Creatives
 

Friday morning I awoke early, hours before a lick of light. Rain in the desert, what a send off. I was filled with emotion, I don't know how to define it, and I'm not sure it matters all that much... but the patter of water on a tin top magnified whatever was held inside. 

Life can go on without any question, simply in terms of black and white, this or that, like or dislike - split up, fragmented, or completely unobserved. Maybe it'd be simpler that way. However, I find, or rather make, meaning out of everything. Piecing together memory with reality, imagination with rationality, using the external world as a mirror, a reminder, that there is more to this life than the stories within my head. 

 
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Waiting to board the redeye home as the movie reel begins to spin. Replaying the conversations, reliving the experiences, reflecting on some of my hindrances.... Too often I find myself trying to force change, grasping at peak experiences, with desire as my motivation. What I am learning, and forgetting, and remembering, and relearning is I have very little control to what happens in life, to what I feel. Clinging to these emotions and experiences, claiming them as mine, and holding on for dear life in attempt to make them last.

 
Dead flowers - Blind Spot Creatives
 

Nothing lasts, and it's not supposed to. Everything, always, is in constant flux. That is what makes life beautiful - the uncertainty, the mystery, the unpredictability. At times it's uncomfortable to let go, it's unsteady to stand on sinking sand. There is absolutely no stability in life and my seeking and searching for it seems to be the cause of all my undue suffering. This ignorant desire also casts the belief that things aren't 'good enough' as they are, that somehow I am supposed to twist and contort experience to fit in a box, and if it doesn't fit, I shove it in... 

Dozing off in an empty isle as my head bobs to and fro. The pilot announces our return to Minneapolis. As I peer out the window I witness the sun rising below me. Another new day, fresh, open and always changing. I accept that, I welcome it and I begin.