365 True Things: 191/Canyons

Sometimes when I'm confronting something I don't want to do, I envision a canyon yawning before me. It is often a huge canyon.

Other times, though, I can almost jump across.

Evel Knievel

Depends on the task at hand.

Today I was playing the game with a friend. The first time I closed my eyes and imagined the gap, it was huge: but then magically, I was able to reach across and draw the other side close, and I just. stepped. over. to the other side.

When I tried to repeat the exercise, though, the other side remained implacably distant. No more magic.

But then practical me leapt into action: Find a way around! 

Well, no: whatever canyon I was on in my mind was too wide—no bridges; "going around" would require hours, if not days.

But . . . what about a path down into the canyon? And then back out?

Wait: I've been there! The South Kaibab Trail. Which does lead to a bridge—a couple of them, in fact: Silver and Black. Over the mighty Colorado River. And then there's the Bright Angel Trail (a name I love) back out. Or, if one wants to continue on to the other side of the canyon, the North Kaibab Trail. With beautiful Ribbon Falls as a stop along the way.

Silver Bridge

Ribbon Falls

One of these days, I'd love to go canyoneering—and, perhaps, grapple in person with this expanding/contracting canyon of my mind.

Once I'm back in adventuring mode.

Maybe continuing to envision canyons will help me get there.