Ceremony

The Chihuahua Desert of southwest Texas is a parched and arid land that quenches a thirst for silence, solitude and serenity. This sun-scorched wilderness might be mistaken for a barren, desolate wasteland, yet when the desert is traveled on foot it opens like a rose whose primal, sensual beauty must be approached with caution, reverence and respect. Cactus plants have armed themselves with spines that poke, prick, sting and stab as a way of protecting their scant supply of water. The names given to cacti (prickly pear, fishhook, eagle's claw and horse crippler) indicate how serious these plants are about defending themselves.

Change is the primary architect of the Chihuahua Desert. Two hundred million years ago it was under a vast sea. One hundred million years ago violent volcanic eruptions lifted the limestone bedrock. Over the last fifty million years relentless winds have eroded the mountains and extinct rivers have sliced and carved the canyons that separate them.

In the mythology of the Apaches, after making the earth and placing the stars in the sky, the birds in the air and the fish in the rivers, the Creator had a large mound of unused stones that he flung to the earth forming the rocky landscape of the Chihuahua Desert.

Solitary outcroppings of towering mesas stand as monuments to the constant battle between irresistible forces (wind) and immovable objects (mountains). For thousands of years, the indigenous people of this land used these natural pyramids as watchtowers to survey the movement of the animals they hunted and the enemies that hunted them.

Archaeologists believe that these mesas were also used as altars for ceremonial rites of passage. Initiates would leave the comfort and safety of the village to test their strength and courage in the face of an unforgiving sun by day and the bone chilling winds of the high desert night. Alone they would fast while praying for guidance from spirit, or animal allies.

Today travelers on the path of self-discovery journey to the desert to seek shelter from the storms that rage within. They seek exposed but isolated mesa tops where they wrestle with the demons of addiction and distraction. At dawn they dance with the shadows of fading dreams.

Four days alone upon this land of rugged beauty and the barking winds of self-doubt are muted and muzzled by steep and narrow canyons. Insecurity is swept into a labyrinth of arroyos and washes. Hawks that soar through streams of warm air help to lift self-pity. The fragile walls of fear that enslave cannot hold against the torrid winds of dusk and the gentle breezes of dawn tickle open even the hardest of hearts.

The desert is the land of spiritual cartography. The site for surveying and mapping the contours of the soul by triangulating heart with mind and body to locate the center of the self.

At sunset the mountains appear as islands drifting alone between earth and sky; enabling all to witness the Creator with paint and palette changing mountain hues from an austere amber to a rich royal purple. These visions of perfection crack, then crumble the imaginary barriers placed between the sacred and the profane.

The degree to which one struggles against the desert's natural forces is concurrent with the struggles within one's self.

There are moments when the desert air is still and deep within this absence there is a silence pregnant with mystery, as if the wind, the desert's restless spirit, is taking a breath before imparting an ancient truth; the desert is the mirror of the soul.

For many, sojourns to the desert are modern-day rites of passage; the chance to ceremonially sever adolescent desires, ancient fears, or unhealthy relationships.

In the desert, rite of passage participants often ask the question they have long avoided: "Who am I alone? Alone without work as the measure of my worth. Alone without the security of friends and family. Who am I without the simple comforts I so often take for granted, like food, fun and furniture?"

After a few days of desert solitude realizations begin to stab like dagger sharp cacti and "alone" becomes a state of mind. When one finds oneself standing in between earth and sky, acting as a conduit for both the heavens above and the earth below, there is no alone.

For thousands of years, in hundreds of cultures, people have quested for visions, wisdom and clarity while alone upon the desert.

The desert quenches the thirst for silence and teaches that silence is not always an absence, sometimes it is a presence.

The desert is a mirror that is constantly reflecting the growth that comes about through change.