Alone in the Catclaw

Me as a TrailWalker at ANASAZI Foundation in Arizona. January 2007.

I recently read this journal entry from December 2008, written one of the many times I was working at ANASAZI Foundation (www.anasazi.org). I sometimes still need to remember the Awakening I had during that winter on the Trail.

----

I had spent the week WindWalking, passing quietly and sometimes not so quietly through the different bands on the Trail. I spent a few hours of my second-to-last day on the Trail in one of the boys bands at Final-D (their final destination of the week). It was the week before Christmas and we were out in the Arizona wilderness. The sun went down and I realized that I had to work my way back to the other boys band, where my shelter was set up for the night. I said good night and climbed several feet up a steep rocky incline to the path—in the dark. To see, I felt with my hands. The rocks were wet from rain drizzling down all day and the temperature was dropping fast. When I finally reached the top of the incline to where the path lay, I headed upstream—feeling with my feet.

A few minutes into the journey, I tried to move forward and only got an armful of catclaw branches laden with thorns clinging to my clothes and skin. (Catclaw is desert plant covered with thousands of spiny thorns to protect itself.) I reversed but could not find my way out. I was stuck. So I prayed, calling out (half whining) to the Creator. I asked for help, not wanting to disturb the group of young men within yelling distance ahead of me. I promised the Creator that I would keep working at it and pushing on if He helped me to find my way through—even if it were tricky.

(A close-up of the catclaw thorns)

At that point, I had no idea which direction the path was. But I knew the general direction of the band upstream—their voices echoed off the canyon walls. I began again, climbing up and through the branches of a juniper and kept moving on—feeling with my hands and feet because I could not see my hand in front of my face. I kept inching “forward” like this for a good while until I got to another point where I was not sure what to do. I could see the glow of the fire up ahead. Determined not to quit, I decided to climb uphill, thinking that the trail might be a little higher. While climbing I grabbed a cholla cactus and put my other hand into a barrel cactus. I probably ran into five cactus plants before collapsing to the ground and crying out in despair. I felt so alone and frustrated—and stuck. I almost wanted to sleep right there. Breathing in the cold night air, I knew I needed to call out for help.

I hooted and yelled for my friend in the band to come help me. After a couple of minutes past—he came. I could see where he was because he had a flashlight. My friend called up to me in a perplexed tone, asking me how I got up there. I sheepishly responded that I had crawled. As he tried to spot me, he informed me that all he could see was solid catclaw. I slid down under the bushes toward the light, my friend, and the path. What a relief! I must have spent close to an hour traveling from one camp to the other when it would have taken me only five minutes in the daylight.

The next night, on my way home from the Trail, anxiety hit me. As I headed back into the city, I felt overwhelmed by all the realities of my everyday life that I put on hold while out on the Trail. I wanted to get married and to find a job in international education, but was making no progress, and felt like God wasn’t listening…and my life was stuck. I was stuck. Yet, I was trying to do everything possible and laying it all out before the Father. However, my raw emotions did not pour from me until I got home and into the shower. I stood there, water running over me. And just cried.

All of my worries hit me—I felt alone and despair, like I felt when I got caught in the catclaw and cactus on the side of the canyon. I knew I needed to ask for help from—not just the Creator—but from loved ones, as I was forced to do while sitting in the cold, wet darkness just the day before. I had the need for control and to do things on my own. And I realized that I needed to let go and be willing to let others share my burden. I got dressed and went into the other part of the house. As I emptied out the hurts of my heart and my worries, my loved ones listened and held me. I was not alone and I did not have to face my journey by myself. Nor did the Creator want me to.