Desert Bread

Update

This past weekend was the start of Lent and we marked it with the YAV Lenten Spirituality Retreat out in Cascabel with the Hermitage Association.  It is run by Daniel, David, and Pearl who live out in the rural community of Cascabel.  The Hermitage Association rents land from the Saguaro Juniper Corporation, a group of associates who hold deeded and leased land in Hot Springs Canyon in southern Arizona.  Their members are environmentally minded, as their covenant to "cherish [the] earth, waters, plants and animals in a way that promotes the health, stability, and diversity of the whole community," demonstrates.  The Hermitage Association rents out a large parcel of land for solitary meditations and desert sojourns.

Desert Bread

Before we started our desert sojourns, we stayed at the base camp, which included a tent ramada, fire pit, composting toilet, outdoor shower, windmill, and a beautiful stream.  Our host was a humble and interesting man named Daniel who has been living out in Cascabel for over 15 years.  He is a self described hermit who enjoys solitude and being in the elements of nature.  He always wears these worn black converses and a sun-stained felt cowboy hat.  After one night in base camp (in which we celebrated Catie's birthday with some Cascabel neighbors) we went our separate ways to being our sojourns.

I stayed in the strawbale hermitage, which was about a mile and a half drive away from camp.  Daniel and I drove up and down the dirt "roads" in his tiny old Toyota, all the while talking about difficulties and joys of my year, BorderLinks, and my expectations for the sojourn.  And to tell the truth, I wasn't sure what to expect.  I had never been so far away from another person.  I had never spent a night in the desert by myself.  I had never had to make do with so little rations that I packed myself.  I had never been given this much time to sit with myself and my thoughts.

Daniel pulled up in front of the strawbale, with a large saguaro cactus standing guard, and checked to make sure that there was enough water, that the bed had sheets on it, that I knew where the toilet was and that I understood the sign changes (that I did every night so that they could know that I was okay).  He checked in with me one last time (which I will talk about a bit later) and then left.  And, after about five minutes when his Toyota crested over the hill, I was alone. 

I surprisingly found myself breathing easy and excited for the time.  I laid a blanket out and the ground and just sat, taking in the sun's warmth and the wind on my body.  I listened to the breeze blow through the ocotillos.  I counted the birds (and the airplanes).  I napped.  I hiked.  I wrote.  I didn't try too hard.  And at the end of two days, it was as if no time had passed at all.  Before we left, we were asked to write a reflection or summary on our sojourn experience, and this is what I had to say:

Before he left, Daniel handed me a piece of desert bread [made purely from desert plants] and said something along the lines of "the desert is all around you, and now it is in you."  That has been a bit of guiding light for me during my time here.  It echoes of embodiment and of communion.

And I have felt in communion with nature and with myself out here.  I went on walks in the washes, finding footprints of bobcats, horses, javelinas, and other animals on journeys of their own.  I've found spider webs glistening on the ground, waiting for a fly to be caught.  I've startled a flock of quail, only to wait around and see and hear them return to each other.  I've even had a little fly friend with me who always seemed to want attention.

But more than the animals, it has been the elements--the sun and wind-- that I have connected with.  I decided even before coming out here that I wanted to be unclothed as much as possible, so that's what I did.  I spent hours at a time sitting and standing naked under the sun, my whole body able to feel the warmth of the sun's rays and the cool hug of the wind.  I have always had this image of peacefulness (and of the Holy Spirit) as wind-- that flows through everything.  At one point, I was standing there in prayer and the wind blew in this wave all around me, lifting my hair up and enveloping me.

I slept outside both nights here, under the stars.  I had a wonderful view of Orion as I went to sleep and when I would wake up (as I did numerous times both nights, to shift and then return to sleep) other starts appeared, taking his place.  I love being under the stars--it reminds me of how tiny I am in this infinite unknown.  I saw two shooting stars each night and let my soul do the wishing.  I don't know what it wished for, but I trust it.

I found some creative space as well, which I haven't had in awhile.  I made two new collages, each inspired in its own way by my time out here.  I am thinking of turning them into cards! I also took time and sat in front of the saguaro and sketched it out and colored.  The saguaro has seemed like a guardian for me during my time here I wanted to remember that image.  I've written a lot, something that I've been missing out on recently.  Since high school, I've kept a journal, but there have always been dry seasons with it, and during those times, I feel least connected to myself.  Having the space and time to write has helped me to reconnect.

I'm not leaving with any questions answered or with any big amazing ideas, but I am leaving more at peace with myself.  Out here, I was reminded of an important piece of advice from a mentor: Be Open.  As long as I stay open and aware and continue my journey, I know that I will be okay.

Thank you for this opportunity.  I hope to return here again to this beautiful place.