Being Fully Who I am in the Grand Canyon

Our Pledge
Before Pat and I leave for the Grand Canyon, we make a pledge to each other. I promise her I will be fully who I am in the Grand Canyon. She promises me the same.

What does it mean to be fully who I am? It means I have to pull out all the stops, take off my own personal brakes and be all that I am. It means I can't worry about what anyone else thinks of me. It means I have to believe in myself so much I don't subdue myself or hold back in any way. It means I can't let the environment or other people change me; and I can't adapt myself to accommodate anyone. Actually, being fully me is even more than that. It means I have to stand up tall and shout "THIS IS ME!" at the top of my lungs and let whatever happens happen.

It's not so easy. I have lived a life conforming to the world around me so that I fit in easily, invisibly. Growing up, being invisible kept me safe. But I'm an adult now and I create my own safety. But even knowing that, I still, without even thinking, mold myself to what is happening around me, to those I'm with, automatically. If the person I am with is sad or struggling, I am subdued. If my friend is excited, I let myself get as excited as she, but no more. But being fully me means I have to be 100% me no matter who I am with or how they are feeling. I have to be visible, shining bright. Being fully me means I have to jump up and down when the joy wells up in me, cry when my heart opens, act as boldly as I feel inside, let my anger rage openly, rejoice in my strength, show my vulnerability. It means I have to let out whatever is inside of me, trusting that it is beautiful.

Back in the Grand Canyon
The canyon takes my breath away every time I see it. Its greatness feeds me. It vastness makes me feel whole, its beauty touches me in a place untouched by any other on earth. I feel as though I belong here.

Walking into the Grand Canyon is like being welcomed home by someone I love profoundly. She is a cherished friend, a sage and mentor, someone I've known all my life, yet, in reality, have only visited three times before today. Like a woman wrinkled with age, brown from the sun, powerful in her quiet knowing, saturated with past hurt and redeeming joy, the Canyon's layers reveal her reality and she glows with life. She is smiling at me, her arms outstretched to welcome me into the depths of her being. I feel both full of awe and at peace in her embrace. She is quiet, yet full of sharing, as I settle into the truth where she lives. She shares mostly from her deep places, giving those on the rim a panorama that only hints at the wonders inside her. Five million people from around the world are drawn to her every year. They are blown away by the immensity and beauty of what they see from her edges, never bothering to seek out the sacred places within. Below the rim she reveals her deepest secrets, and mine. I have to step inside her walls and mine to hear her, to be with her, to know her. She holds me in her heart from the moment I enter. I am truly alive, letting her blessings envelop me. My shoes are covered with Canyon dust, my hair and skin with the salt of evaporated sweat, my feet with blisters. I never ever want to leave.

Finding My Truth
I'm at Panorama Point, almost all the way into the Canyon and my heart is melting. It's day one of our rim-to-rim-to-rim adventure, and Pat and I are hiking into the Canyon on the South Kaibab Trail that runs along a ridge-top offering non-stop gorgeous views of the Canyon. Each step into the Canyon brings me a step deeper inside of me, inching me closer and closer to my heart, to standing in my truth. Finally, sitting on a red rock, overlooking the inner gorge, the Colorado River, and a handful of rubber rafts only 1,200 feet below me, I feel the tears. I am home. I close my eyes, feel the heat of the sun on my face and breathe in deeply, as if by taking in the hot dry air, I can somehow be the canyon itself. My breath snags on my emotions.

My love affair with the Canyon started with a river-rafting trip on the Grand with my husband, Don, in 2006. It was the trip of my lifetime and it changed me forever. That's when I realized I'm a doer, not a watcher, an adventurer not a tourist, an action girl with a passion for more. Our river rafting trip consisted of five oar boats, where guides rowed and the clients relaxed and enjoyed the views and the white water, and one paddle boat where six people plus a guide paddled. I paddled every day but one, over 200 miles down the Colorado River. And the day I missed in the paddleboat, Don and I rowed an oar boat. I need to be part of the effort, I need to be in it, doing, not outside of it observing. Then last year, when Pat and I found a Grand Canyon rim-to-rim hike with The World Outdoors, I knew immediately it was for me - walk myself from one rim of the canyon down to the river and across to the other rim - you bettcha! This year, Pat and I upped the challenge, doubling the distance and going by ourselves, without a guide. YES!

I knew I loved this incredible place. But now, as I sit at Panorama Point, on my red rock, gazing at the river, I understand more clearly that it is way more than that. Every part of me resonates with the Canyon; she is a soul sister. I realize now that my deepest connection with the Grand Canyon is actually IN the Canyon's depths where the river runs through it, eroding layers of rock, exposing the earth's story, revealing the truth. Like the Canyon, the deeper inside of me I go, the more my truth emerges. And it is this truth place that gives meaning to my life, and leave my soul feeling satisfied. Maybe that's why I only read nonfiction books and watch movies that are true stories (which drives my family crazy). If it's just a story, I don't connect with it. But the truth fills me. That is the place I love in others, where I can connect, from my deep places to theirs.

I am reminded of a conversation I had with my daughter on a bus traveling in Australia. Tears were rolling down my cheeks.
"Why are you crying, Mom?" Kelly asked.
"Do you really want to know?" I responded.
"Is it deep?" Kelly asked.
"Yes," I said.
"No," she responded.

Riding the Grace Wave
After hiking down into the canyon to Phantom Ranch, and then, the next day, up 16 miles to the North Rim Lodge, we have a rest day. Yeah! Before the trip, I researched the North Rim and found some awesome vistas that would be cool to see. I checked on the Canyon website, even called the North Rim Lodge, to see if there were tours to these viewpoints. No luck.

Our rest day morning arrives and Pat and I join a free tour of the North Rim that happens to be forming as we walk by. My hope is to run into someone who has a car and will offer us a ride to Point Imperial. I know, wishful thinking. We meet a couple going on a tour of Point Imperial, but they are with a tour group.

I just can't seem to let go of the idea of seeing a North Rim vista. "I'm going to talk to the Lodge registration people and see if there are any busses or general tours schedule to Point Imperial." I already know it is a lost cause, but no harm in trying.

I ask the registration clerk and she tells me they do not do anything like that. She says most people arrive in cars or are already booked on existing tours. She suggests I check at the Ranger station and see if they offer anything.

I run to the Ranger Station and ask the two female rangers if there is any way to pay a ranger to be our guide to Point Imperial. They look at me like I am drooling and tell me no, they don't do that sort of thing. I walk out of the Ranger station and see a man with a ponytail across the parking lot talking with a small group of people. I hear the words Point Imperial.

I walk over to them, and stand there listening to their conversation -- something I would not normally do, but I am on a mission. Eventually they stop talking. The man with the ponytail looks at me.

"I hear a question coming," he says.
"Hi. I'm Nancy. My friend and I hiked up to the North Rim yesterday and we would love to go to Point Imperial. It sounds like you have a tour going there. How would you feel about two interlopers joining you?" I smile.

"I might consider that," he says, smiling back. "I'm Mike." He extends his hand and I shake it, introducing myself. "Come with me." Mike leads me over to a full-size University of Northern Arizona bus and knocks on the door. It opens.

"Hi Chuck," Mike says to the man in the driver's seat. "This is Nancy and she wants to know if she and her friend can go to Point Imperial with us."

"As long as they keep my bus clean," he says smiling.

I'm so excited...unbelievable!

"Let's go count lunches," Mike says to me. "I need 37 lunches for my tour and crew." Together we crouch down next to the luggage area under the bus and start pulling cardboard boxes filled with lunch sacks toward us and counting the lunches. We count twice - 39 - are you kidding me? Exactly two extra? "We'd love to have you," Mike says.

I run back and tell Pat and within ten minutes we are standing outside the bus waiting for the tour group to find their seats before we get on.

A woman comes over to Pat and me as we wait and says, " Hi, I'm Barbara. I'm so glad you are coming with us!" I am astounded by her kindness.
"I was afraid everyone might be angry that we are joining you, since we're not part of your tour group." I say.
"Heavens no. This is an Elderhostel. Everyone is really nice."

Pat and I board the bus last. Walking to the back we hear:
"Welome!"
"Where are you from?"
"Hi there!"
"Glad you're here!"

The people sitting around us immediately strike up a conversation with us. Mike announces to the group that he has picked up two more friends. Pat and I feel like honored guests!

We stop at a meadow and get out and Mike talks to the group about the shape of an Aspen leaf and stem and how the wind moves through it. He asks us to close our eyes and just listen. Tears immediately come as I connect to my heart, hearing the Aspen leaves quaking in the breeze.

On to Point Imperial where Mike shares his vast knowledge about the Canyon. Point Imperial is the highest point on either rim, having an elevation of 8,803 feet. From the viewpoint, we can see majestic views of Mount Hayden, Saddle Mountain, the Nankoweap Trail and the Painted Desert beyond the Canyon. Mike tells us that if the life span of the earth were 365 days, then snapping our fingers represents the life span of a 100-year-old person. A snap. That's all. The earth has existed for most of her life without us. I put humans at the center of everything, but we're not, we're just specks in time and space, insignificant in light of the billions of years of Earth's history revealed in the Canyon. We are not in charge.

Pat and I find a shady place to enjoy our delicious lunches and we talk with lots of people from the group who are fascinated with our rim-to-rim-to-rim adventure. Before getting on the bus for the trip back to the Lodge, we give Mike and Chuck each a 20-dollar bill and thank them. But it wasn't about money. The cool thing is that we all know it.

Back at the North Rim lodge, walking to Bright Angel Point we run into Beth, one of the women on our Elderhostel Tour. She tells us she is a bit wobbly and afraid of heights, but she has heard the views along this half-mile walk are spectacular. We celebrate her determination and urge her on.

At dinner that night, Mike comes over to our table.
"Hey, I enjoyed your company today. Good luck on your hike back," he says, making direct eye contact and giving us such a genuine smile.

As we are leaving the dining room, a group of four Elderhostelers call us to their table.

"I made it all the way to Bright Angel Point!" Beth says.
"Whoooo hooooo!" I say, giving her an heartfelt high five.
"Well," she says, "it's probably nothing to you girls, but for me it was a big deal."
"It's not about comparisons," I say to her. "What you did was awesome for you. That's all that matters. Way to go!"
We are all touched in the silent smiling moments that follow.
Where do you girls go next?" Barbara asks.
"We're going back into the Canyon to Phantom Ranch and then up the other side to the South Rim." I say.
"I am just so proud to know two such strong women," she says, radiating.

Wow, I am blown away by their warm-heartedness and by how good it feels to let in their words and to see them let in ours. That night, lying in bed, tears streaming down my cheeks, I tell Pat how touched I am by all the events of the day. Saying the words out loud unleashes the emotions inside me and I feel. It is a gift.

This is riding the grace wave -- where everything feels meant-to-be, where everyone is full of themselves, where kindness matters, where we give and receive each other's blessings effortlessly, with joy.

Coming Full Circle
I always thought that giving of yourself was the ultimate goal, that if you loved others then life was complete. I was wrong. It has taken me over fifty years to figure out that I have been missing a step, that I only had a grasp on half of the equation. It is not just about giving; it's also about receiving. Coming full circle is giving your love and receiving their love. It is much easier for me to give than receive.

When Pat and I hiked rim-to-rim last year, we were the first people in our tour group to arrive on the South Rim. Then we stayed there for over four hours, cheering for each member of our group as they reached the rim. It was the most meaningful part of the trip for me. It was my way of loving the group and it felt wonderful.

We have stayed in touch with Tom and Mary, a couple from the group who we loved from the moment we met them. They are a kind-hearted, sincere, loving couple and both Pat and I were drawn to them. We told Tom and Mary we were going back to the Canyon to do a rim-to-rim-to-rim and Tom said they had been thinking about going back themselves. He asked when we were going and when we thought we would arrive on the South Rim. I gave him the dates and times.

It is 11:45 in the morning on our last hike day. We are hiking from Phantom Ranch, up the Bright Angel Trail to the South Rim today. We have our Phantom Ranch breakfast at 5 and are on the trail by 5:45. It is a beautiful day and both Pat and I are excited about completing our feat.

It is a hot, dusty dry hike up the River Trail to the Bright Angel Trail, through the steep switchbacks of Devil's corkscrew, through the shade of the Cottonwood trees in Indian Garden campground, the up through the redwall limestone of Jacob's Ladder and then the never-ending switchbacks the last three miles to the rim.

We have about a mile to go when Pat turns to me and says, "Did you hear that? It sounded like someone yelled Nancy."

We turn around and look up at the rim. There are two tiny dots waving their arms madly in the air. The tears come. I can't help it. I realize in that one moment that we are close to the rim, that we are going to make it - a rim-to-rim-to-rim hike on our own, and that Tom and Mary have come all the way from Illinois to cheer us to the rim.

We have renewed energy that carries us up the last switchbacks into the cheers and arms of Tom and Mary. Emotion clogs my airways. I feel the tears but they evaporate within seconds. It's hard for me to let in that these wonderful people timed their vacation for this moment, came to the Bright Angel Trailhead the night before, and scouted out the perfect place where they could spot us far away with their birding binoculars. This was their moment too; their eyes are moist with emotion as well. It is hard to let in this much love. It is easier for me to give it out, harder to believe that we touched these people so much that they wanted to come back a year later and return the love. It's hard to believe that I am worthy of such a gift.

There - that is the receiving part. Acknowledging Tom and Mary's gift of love cheering us to the rim, and me believing I am worth it. Coming full circle. Thank you Tom and Mary.

Our Pledge
Pat and I are standing on the Canyon's eastern rim, looking down 7,450 feet to the winding Colorado River far below. We are saying goodbye to the Canyon. I can barely speak.

"I have to come back," I finally choke out, opening the floodgates.
"I know," Pat says. "I do too."

I get out my pad of paper and write, "We're coming back!" in big letters. Then we set the camera's timer and take a picture of us holding our promise, the Canyon glowing behind us.