A Desert Epistle: Walkabouts and Wanderlust
Why the desert? It’s a question I’ve received more than a handful of times when telling people about my travels. The desert is an amazing place, if you allow yourself to see it. I came to the desert to write. And I’ve been so busy writing the sequel to Evolving Elizah: Initiatum that I haven’t given enough care and thought to how to share my love of this place with you. So, on one of my many walks, I asked the desert for inspiration, and this is what she told me for the asking.
Hello, dear child. I’ve been waiting for you. What have you come to find? Speak plainly, because you will answer for all you say and do. You’re seeking truth, you say? Are you sure you want to know the truth? It’s such a common thing to say, but uncommon to mean.
I have gifts for you. Are you willing to receive them? Come, let me embrace you. Tell me your stories, and I will tell you mine. Come home, my child, at least for a little while.
Can you hear the song I sing for you? You’ve been away too long—you must remember how to hear it. Purify yourself as you walk on hot dry sand. Let the wind winnow the chaff of days past. Let the sun burn away the nonessential. Did you think it would be easy? No child, there are no shortcuts here, but I waste nothing—not even your suffering.
Do not undertake this journey lightly, or I will bring you to your knees. I will deconstruct your world in a tempest gale, transform everything you know into a suffocating slurry of sand and air. I will relegate you to the blinding sameness of everything unmanifested. I will not suffer insubordination, and if you try to command me, I will break you. I will burn you with heat and flame. I will transform the very air you breathe into lightning, striking terror in your fearless heart.
Do you think this means I don’t love you? Oh child, I love you dearly. I love all of my children. So, if you want to be the favorite, you must earn that favor with all who live under the sun. I only want you to hear my song. Don’t you want to hear it?
You come here seeking truth. But your ears are too full of lies to hear my whisper, your sight too clouded to see the path I lay before you. You must see that which needs to be seen. Hear that which needs to be heard. The sun, the moon, the stars—they all wait for you. They all wish to commune with your heart.
See the path I laid for you. Walk it with adoration for all it shows you. Leave your delusions behind or watch them wither—I will not sustain them. You may be weary, but you’ve come too far to turn back now. Did you think your decision had no consequence, that your desire had no cost? You said you wanted to know the truth.
Take the space I freely offer and learn to sing. Listen for the melody as doves cry, hawks scream, and coyotes howl. Hear the wind whistle as a river burbles over sunbaked rocks, butterfly wings fluttering in time to the beat of your heart. Do you hear your place in the ensemble? It’s there, between the notes, in the deafening silence that only your voice can fill.
Comprehend the beauty all around you, and when you love it as much as I do, you will know the truth. Offer me a most cherished sacrifice–your tears–and you will hear my song. Did you forget that the most precious notes are written in the language of water? Those blessed drops, infused with my love, yield the greatest gift of all—life.
Receive my gifts, and we will all celebrate you. Flowers will bloom and angels sing as we welcome you home, dancing in the rain of my own joyous tears. Come, my child. Dance with me, and stay awhile.
