The Arid Desert
At certain times in life, we find ourselves in the desert. Literally or metaphorically, physically or mentally. The desert often appears to be a harsh place, cruel with hot sand, dry brush, and lifeless landscape. But it can also be a place of peace and solitude. And at times, it can even surprise us by bursting forth with color and new life. This spring and summer, I had the opportunity to spend some time in the desert. In the next few blogposts, I’d like to share with you some reflections sparked by my experience.
When you take a hike in the desert, it is easy to lose yourself. Before you know it, the sun feels hotter and you have walked farther than you planned. You may not have packed enough water or sunscreen. You look back and realize that it all kind of looks the same in every direction. Even the path has blended into the sand and rock and scrub. That’s when you get this sinking feeling of being very alone in a place that you did not intend to be.
We all experience deserts in our lives, and these can take many forms. Losing a job and not having any prospect for something new. Facing financial troubles without knowing where to go next. Separating from or losing a loved one, and not knowing how you will go on without them. Finding oneself in the wasteland of depression and not seening anything but darkness. Being diagnosed with an incurable cancer or a similar chronic illness, and not being able to see any future.
What all these life events share, and what makes them like a desert, is their unrelenting bleakness. Their sense of neverending aridity, of a journey too hard to complete, with no end in sight. This aridity is usually paired with a feeling of isolation or aloneness. Not the kind of quiet peaceful solitude that we all need sometimes, but rather the despairing aloneness of no one to accompany you through this difficult journey. No companion to share your burden or lighten your load or even to understand what you are going through.
What I have learned from personal experience and in getting to know many people who have found themselves in these deserts, is that the relentlessness and aloneness at some point becomes a creation of the mind. This is not to say that the challenge and threat of these deserts is not very real. These difficult passages of life may be some of the very greatest we will ever face. But what I mean to say is that we are never as alone, and the way is never as long and arid, as it may seem.
Our inclination is to feel that we have to walk alone because no one can understand what we are going through, that no one is willing or able to share our path with us. But it is a very rare occasion where we find ourself truly alone and on our own with no one to help. More often it is a matter of closing ourselves off or not allowing others into our lives who could stand by our side. Whether it be pride, ego, anger, despair…these all can make our deserts more desolate and more lonely.
For many of us, it is very hard to accept a favor, let alone ask for help. But this is on us. There is a joy and an indescribable connection that is created when a person extends a generosity and another accepts it. It can be something small. Like letting a friend give you a ride to your chemo treatment and waiting with you while it completes. Or accepting a meal from a neighbor who has noticed that you’ve not been feeling well or getting out much. In the deserts of life, we must work to open our hearts to others who are willing to accompany us so they can give us a little solace from the blazing sun and help us find our way back to the path home.
