Letting Go of Control

I used to feel that I needed to have a plan for everything, and sometimes I still feel that way. However, working on my need to control has been a practice over many years. It’s a balance of discovering what is appropriate to have control over and when to flow. 

My partner and I planned a trip to Arizona in April of 2019. I told him that I wanted him to handle all of the planning such as securing the rental car, figuring out hotels, places to eat, and so forth. However, he did it all at the last minute or not at all. Imagine my anxiety upon landing in Phoenix, unsure of how this would all work out. 

Honestly, it worked out better than I could have ever planned myself. Our plan was to go from Phoenix to the Grand Canyon and therefore we needed a rental car. As it turned out, our rental car had a sunroof, and was a super nice model that we probably wouldn't have gotten if it would have been pre-booked. Along the way to the Grand Canyon, we stopped when we wanted, admired the cactus, and found ourselves in amazement of the ever changing terrain as we passed through Sedona. We arrived at the Grand Canyon just after sunset, with enough light to get our first glimpse. 

However, we both had elevation sickness and a slice of pizza with a pop was our salvation. Our hotel also happened to have a bowling alley in its basement and we enjoyed our night showing off our best skills. The next day we set off for the Grand Canyon, with the intention of finding a squish penny and stopping at a few sightseeing areas where we could peer over the edge. 

What happened instead was a spur of the moment 14 mile hike into the canyon. As we stood at the top, filled with wonder, our curiosity began to widen. 

“Look, that looks like a trail”.

“Ya, there are people down there”.

“Well how did they get there?”

And with that, we were studying a map with the trails contemplating our time. We had a gallon of water with us, plenty of snacks, supplies for PB&J, and we knew we could refill our waters at the bottom. So we set off into the canyon. 

On the way down I became very aware of how I would be extracted should a medical emergency occur, I figured it would be either helicopter or mule. But, I calmed my anxiety and carried on. The views were spectacular. As we crept down the trail, the land we were once on became higher and higher, turning into a mountain top instead. The transition in time on the rocks was visual by the layers that formed their sides and changed in color. The terrain also changed, at the bottom vegetation was around us with trees, shrubs, flowers, and insects buzzing all around. We were truly in it now. We sat for a while in the shade next to a small river. After we soaked in our environment, and filled our gallon, we carried on. 

We walked further onto the path that would take us to a plateau in which we could see the Colorado River below us. In this section, the path we had taken disappeared into the walls of the canyon behind us, and opened up to a prairie-like view with short cactus all around. There was something about it that made me feel so small - so humbled. 

As my hands clamped the rail that stood between me and the sudden drop, I could see the Colorado River. We stayed for some time here, soaking up the sun, catching our energy before making the 7 mile trip back to the top. We waited at points for the sun to slip behind, creating shade on the wall back out. Despite being in the shade, it remained a challenge. Step over step, I climbed out of the canyon. My legs were tired, but my only option was to keep going. Of course we could rest, but not stay. What I remember most was the last half mile. The hill I so easily walked down was now steep without pause. Finally my boots left the sandy rocky trail and touched pavement - we reached the top. 

What a rewarding feeling, when you know you have pushed your body to achieve. Looking back onto our trail, we once again could not see anyone on it with our naked eye. We had just completed 14 miles into the Grand Canyon. 

Leaving the area, I was filled with joy and pride. As we left, we were heading towards Page Arizona, but we were blessed to be able to stop at a quiet spot and watch the sunset over the canyon. 

Once it was dark we continued, and our road to Page had no lights. It was just us, the desert road, and our sun roof. The stars were unfiltered by city lights, we stopped on the side and gazed at them for some time. Blessed to see the Milky Way in all of its glory. The peacefulness surrounded me. I felt so intune. 

That night we arrived in Page, Arizona, with the intention of going to Antelope Canyon the next day. The front desk receptionist at our hotel expressed concern that we had not yet booked our tour for it, but luckily there was still space open for the lower canyon. 

That morning we woke for our adventure. We first stopped at Horseshoe Bend, arriving just as a tour was leaving. When the next tour arrived, we took our cue to continue to Navajo Nation. On our tour of Antelope Canyon we were blessed with a wonderful guide who showed us how to capture the color of the canyon with our cameras. We even gained insight from others who had gone to the upper canyon that this one was more beautiful due to how the sunlight touched it. Thank goodness that tour was already booked. Once again, it seemed it all worked out. 

On our way back to Phoenix, we stopped in Sedona, ending our trip with a fancy dinner. The irony was we had just finished our hike. We walked in with dust stuck to our boots, clothed in our hiking attire. They gave us the corner table on the outside patio, with a clear view of the Red Rocks that surround the city. I thought it was the best seat in the house. 

This trip has remained one of my favorites, simply because of how effortlessly everything flowed without any control from me. I truly believe it would not have gone as smoothly if I would have planned it myself.