What I Really Need

My family and I went to Zion National Park in southern Utah for Labor Day weekend with some friends. The whole idea was that we would rappel a few slot canyons - Yankee Doodle, Key Hole, and the granddaddy of them all, Pine Creek. Needless to say, I chickened out at the last minute. I am terrified of heights. It's not the normal fear that most people have. No. I am frozen with fear. I don't mind minor down- climbs, and really, standing on the edge of a cliff doesn't bother me. It's the thought of going over the cliff, even in a harness, or even with someone there to catch me, that horrifies me.
It's not a rational fear, not one I can talk myself out of. It's the same way I feel at the top of a rather steep slope when skiing. Suddenly all logic evades me. I freeze.
But you know, I still had a wonderful time and here's why. I realized what really matters in my life.
We stayed at a campground quite far from the park itself, in red canyon country. That night we stood under the moonlight (a Blue Moon!) and watched the moon cast our shadows. The whole night the sky was so bright that you could see the clouds. The moon illuminated those red cliffs, washing them in cool silver light. And then, something I've always yearned to hear - coyotes howled. It was a raw, wild lullaby.
Earlier that evening, my friend Craig was telling me about a second home a mutual friend owns. He was describing the home's luminous granite floors and a shower that mimics the feel of standing under a (warm) waterfall. It was luxury and excess in my mind.
It became very clear to me what luxury is for me. It's hearing coyotes howl under a blue moon. It's walking up a river bed and standing under a cool waterfall. It's being surrounded by great cliffs and Ponderosa pines. It's watching red sunsets that take your breath away. It's being with family and friends who love one another and truly enjoy each other's company.
I don't think I'll ever rappel. At least not 70 feet of free hanging like those intrepid family members and friends did. I've decided to be more gentle with myself and honor the fears I have. They humble me. They make me realize there are always things in our lives we cannot conquer. Our fears are conduits of truth, revealing aspects of ourselves we would rather not see. But as they reveal our weaknesses, they also reveal our strengths. I am strong enough to admit when something is too big or too scary for me. In a way, I am strong enough to realize that I am not always strong. I am strong enough to acknowledge what really matters in life. My family and friends love me despite my fears. My son Andrew even volunteered to spend the day with me instead of going on the Pine Creek rappel. We had a wonderful time. He admitted he probably had more fun than the others did that day. We found a Starbucks and drank hot chocolate. We went bouldering along Pine Creek and swam in water holes, we talked to cool people and Andrew even helped a lady get her Harley out of a sandy area alongside the road. (She must have weighed as much as the bike. Five men had to help her!)

And what matters is so very simple. Good friends and family and the wild around me. The lyrics of the song "Cowboy Take Me Away" by the Dixie Chicks pretty much sums it up:

" I wanna touch the earth I wanna break it in my hands
I wanna grow something wild and unruly
I wanna sleep on the hard ground in the comfort of your arms
On a pillow of blue bonnets in a blanket made of stars
Oh it sounds good to me

Cowboy take me away fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue
Set me free oh I pray closer to heaven above and closer to you
Closer to you

I wanna walk and not run, I wanna skip and not fall
I wanna look at the horizon, and not see a building standing tall
I wanna be the only one, for miles and miles
Except for maybe you, and your simple smile

Oh it sounds good to me, yes it sounds so good to me,

Cowboy take me away, fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue
Set me free, oh, I pray, closer to heaven above, and closer to you
Closer to you