I tried to
enjoy it. I even picked the best spot.
It was the
first night of the New Year. I was on a personal retreat in Joshua Tree
National Park.
I went out
there to look at the stars.
And to have
my moment.
I imagined
myself getting there and being blown away. I anticipated a deep epiphany. I
would recount the tale to other people about how I turned a corner and
everything fit and my whole year made sense.
I was
ready.
Not a cloud
was in the sky.
A perfect
night in the perfect spot in the perfect place for star-gazing.
It was
everything that I wanted.
There was
just one problem.
I don’t
like the desert.
And for
those of you that don’t know Joshua Tree National Park is smack dab in the
middle of the desert.
Don’t get
me wrong, Joshua Tree is beautiful. I picked this place for many reasons.
1. If I
ever have a son, I hope to name him Joshua.
2. U2 is my
favorite band of all time. They have an album called “The Joshua Tree” which I
listened to while I was there.
3. The
desert holds a lot of spiritual significance for me.
4. It was
cheap.
Back to my
moment.
I had
driven around the park and went to a look out point for some sunset action.
There were no parking spots open so I kept driving and made my way down into a
valley that a nice yet slightly awkward park rancher said was the best spot to
star gaze.
I missed
the spot the first time and had to turn around and go back.
I parked
the car and waited.
I waited
for a sign, for a shooting star, for something.
But like I
said, it was the desert and it was well…desolate.
And cold.
30 something degrees cold. I didn’t bring the proper clothes. I didn’t want to
keep the car on to waste gas so I sat in the dark.
Cars kept
streaming past. There was only one other car in the parking lot and two people
were standing outside of it talking loudly.
The
language was colorful.
I found
myself thinking about what I would do if they started walking my way… then I
started to think about serial killers… then I started to think about how my
decaying body would eventually be found somewhere off the road by a cactus.
I stayed in
the car.
Which made
star gazing difficult.
I rolled
down my window, cranked my neck.
The sky was
beautiful. It really was. The stars were numerous. I thought saw the Milky
Way.
I sighed.
This wasn’t
exactly going like I planned but I was ready for my moment.
Nothing
happened.
Then the
people started talking again. More cars drove by, my neck started to hurt
because of the awkward crank and I was freezing. On top of everything else
nature was calling.
I drove
away and back into town after about 10 minutes.
10 stinking
minutes.
That was my
moment? What happened? I thought it was what I wanted, and it was…
Wasn’t it?
I was
pondering this over in my mind as I drove near city lights.
Nature was
still calling so I stopped at a McDonalds. I needed to get some thoughts out of
me.
(Now I am
the type of person who feels guilty using a public bathroom at a McDonalds
unless I buy something. So there I was writing this down with a small $1.17
Diet Dr. Pepper nearby.)
Maybe if I
had camped out there I would have enjoyed it more, even if it was the desert.
But I am
not a huge fan of camping. I love indoor plumbing. It is the only thing holding
me back from devoting all of my free time to inventing a time machine so I can
visit cool places like Jane Austin’s England, Cesar’s Rome and Abraham
Lincoln’s Washington.
Outhouses
make me nervous.
I sipped my
Diet Dr. Pepper.
What if I
just didn’t like the starry night sky as much as I thought I did?
What if
what I thought I wanted wasn’t really what I wanted?
This can’t
be it. This can’t be the lesson. When at first you don’t succeed…
I decided
to try again. I had come all this way. Why not?
So after
sleeping in a ridiculous amount again, (Both mornings the front desk called to
make sure I didn’t want maid service and confirm I had indeed put the do not
disturb sign on the door. I think they were just checking to make sure I was
still alive.) I set off again.
It was my
last night and before I went to my starry spot I half heartily decided to go to
the look out point again to catch a sunset. I remembered the very limited
parking the night before and had already conceded that the same fate awaited me
again.
But, as
fate would have it, I did get a parking spot.
Right near
the top of the look out point.
I got out
of the car, walked up to the top and my mouth dropped.
“Wow.”
There I was
on top of a mountain that over looked the entire valley.
The air was
clear and bright.
Tourists
from all over the world where mingling around.
And then
the sky happened.
The sun
began to sink down into the mountain ridge.
The clouds
picked up the different colors.
Blues, Pinks,
Oranges, Red.
It was one
of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen.
I stayed
for two hours.
It was
simply breathtaking.
I was
freezing. I didn’t care.
There
wasn’t a place to sit. I didn’t care.
This wasn’t
the plan.
I didn’t
care.
The stars
could wait.
I was
having a moment.
A wordless,
worriless, somehow everything is going to be okay moment.
A much
needed moment.
Everywhere
you turned the view was stunning.
The shadows
stretched across the landscape.
The lights
started twinkling below from the city.
The fellow
watchers quieted.
I finally
left after the very last drop of light fell out of the sky.
My red
tipped nose and the rest of me walked back to the car.
My soul a
little full. My heart wide awake.
I drove
around and looked at stars too.
It was
nice. I stayed for a few minutes and left.
Later on I
went through both experiences in my mind.
A starry
sky, a dazzling sunset.
I thought I
wanted one.
I needed
the other.
What is the
difference between want and need anyway?
Well,
Google says this:
Want: have
a desire to posses or do
Need:
require something because it is essential or very important.
You are
right Google, that is a big difference.
It doesn’t
take much to say what you want.
If you
don’t get want you want, you will live. It stinks, sure, but you will be okay.
If you
don’t get what you need…different story.
It takes a
whole lot of courage and vulnerability to say what you need.
And for
those of us who find vulnerability hard to practice, admitting that you need
something can be terrifying.
So we avoid
it. And go after the easier things.
Even if
they let us down.
Even if
they aren’t right.
I think a
lot of us have this idea in our heads of what we think we want. We go after
these things for so long that we don’t want to come to terms with the fact that
we may not want them anymore.
So we stick
with it.
And end up
in a McDonalds sipping a Diet. Dr. Pepper.
Now, don’t
get me wrong. There are times when needs/wants line up perfectly well.
For those
really self-aware people, good for you.
Some of us
tend to lean toward the trial and error method.
Sometimes
it takes experiencing what we think we want so we can figure out what we
actually need.
Here is the
truth: I would have never seen that sunset if I hadn’t wanted to go star
gazing.
Other
times, it is a lesson of letting go of what you want in order to get what you
need.
Or, it may
take being in the desert to get yourself to admit you need water.
What are
you thirsty for?
What if you
don’t know? What if you were like me and had no idea what you needed?
Ask.
Simple yes,
but ask.
Ask God.
Ask others. Ask yourself.
Open
yourself up to the answers that follow.
I think
part of the time we don’t know what we need because we don’t know what is
possible or we just don’t ask the question.
So why not
ask the one who can do infinitely more than we can ask for or imagine?
The one
that made the starry night, yes, but really wants to show you this sunset.
The sunset
that is just over that ridge, ready to blow you away.
This year I
am going to start asking what I need. And taking it a step further, (gulp)
letting others know what I need.
Sounds
terrifying.
Most things
worth doing are.
First
things first.
My name is
Carrie, I am not always great with vulnerability and I really need indoor
plumbing.
And
Sunsets.
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