hair-raising magic
My friend came to visit over the weekend, and after she arrived, we talked about everything going on in our lives and the world, and how we’re both taking things one day at a time. She said maybe there is something good about being forced to live within each day - each hour sometimes - because your mind stays where you are for a while. It’s a relief not thinking about what came before or what’s coming next.
During her visit, we explored a beautiful trail that led to McCauley Springs, which are natural warm springs in the Jemez Mountains. The pools are surrounded by rocks and trees, and no one monitors them, so there’s no fee to wade in them, other than the 1.75-mile hike to get there. The hike was gorgeous, with lush, green pine trees in the distance, and shiny black obsidian boulders that we’d touch with our hands and yell “Energy!” because why not? We also spotted a few heart rocks in both directions on the trail and took photos with them and our hiking boots, then we’d pose for additional photos with the view. Rather than counting “1, 2, 3,” before pushing the shutter button, my friend taught us her family tradition of saying, “bum, poo, pee, fart, diarrhea” because it makes everyone smile naturally if you have the sense of humor of a 5-year-old (try it, it works!).
We didn’t fully know what to expect when we made it to the springs. I’d only been there once five years ago - mostly due to a spontaneous accident - and didn’t bring the right clothes to wade in the natural pools. This time we came with swimsuits, and when we walked up to the springs, there were about a dozen other people enjoying the area. Trees reflected on the water and it felt dreamy, like we’d arrived in a place where fairies could live; tall pine trees that looked similar in color as redwoods shaded the pools that reflected the mountains.
But then we stepped into the springs which were murky due to sand and dirt drifting around the water as people waded. Black, stringy algae that felt like hair kept touching our legs unexpectedly, and we had two choices. Get out, or go with it, and it was sort of a minute-by-minute decision. With laughter and a little bit of self-talk, we were able to relax for a while, take pictures and tell stories. Then we moved to a lower, less crowded, clear pool which seemed nice initially until we could see too much. Tadpoles swimming around my feet made me wary that no less than one of them would find its way into my swimsuit. Then a snake made an appearance, its head above water as it quickly slithered and darted around the pool.
Looking back, I’ve reflected on these questions: Is it better to know, or not know, what lies beneath the scene in front of us? If we knew everything, would we take steps into the unknown or back away completely and potentially miss some of the beauty that’s mixed in with the grim, muddy mystery in front of us?
Of course this is all situational, but it makes me wonder what joys and growth I’ve missed in the past because I was afraid of one - or a few - unpleasant parts of the journey. If someone had told us that the springs were a little questionable, we probably wouldn’t have gone on this hike at all and missed such a fun adventure.
I also understand that not all paths are chosen, and some are extremely undesirable or tragic. However, even within many of the grim realities forced upon us, there are often silver linings. There are a lot of things that are beautiful and scary, surprising and calming, or painful and lovely at the same time. Right now we’re facing a global pandemic, racial tensions, ferocious wildfires and our own individual struggles on top of everything. But we’ve come together at times in ways we never would have, and there have been opportunities to look inward and discover something new.
One thing I know for sure is that life and any adventure we do choose can be both magical and hair-raising - and there is something I love a whole lot about that. The day trip to the springs was perfect with its long, lovely drive and the opportunity to try something new, but it also kept changing - from unknown, to beautiful, to uncomfortable, to settled, to fun.
It was a nice reminder after nearly six months of everything that’s happened that there will continue to be plenty of good days if we make them happen, and those days can fill our cups in all the best ways.
