The first time I went to Joshua Tree I was around twelve and not too thrilled to be staying with my parents in their orange VW bus van. (Now I would give anything to have that old relic). I just remember Sister wind howling all night and the strange shadows the Joshua Trees displayed on the desert rocks. The next time I went I was pregnant with my wild child Charlotte, and I hiked the rocks with my mother and Coco. I felt heavy yet the expansive sky seemed to fill me with spirit. The last several years I've gone back to the Desert and each time it seems to grow on me some more. Unlike Kauai which I loved at first site, Joshua Tree is an acquired taste where the beauty and magic of the land is not obvious and glaring but subtle and mysterious. If Kauai is beautiful like a ripe, fertile, sexy, woman then the desert is dry, wind swept, seductive yet dangerous and mysterious like an older O'Keefe. My trip this time was with my friend Tierney Gearon who is a genius photographer (I am not exaggerating) and our daughters. We went on hikes, meditated at the Integratron and created art at every stop. Being with Tierney who is an artist through her soul, I realized there are two choices in life, to see beauty in everything or not.
The Sunday after we got back I went on a walk to the beach with my beloved and saw the most incredible sunset I have ever seen on our coast. As we turned away from the sea and looked towards the mountains there was a rare rainbow glowing ahead. I felt so blessed to have been able to awake to desert wind in the morning, and end the day with a sunset by the sea and a rainbow above . . .but as we all know, life isn't always sunsets and rainbows. The next day my daughters' grandfather on their father's side passed away in the arms of his wife, and the challenges of life grabbed me by the throat and shook me awake. The Buddhists say that we can never escape from the four sufferings of life: birth, sickness, aging and death. I suppose with that in mind we have to enjoy more than ever the slivers of beauty that shine through . . .
