I’ve been living in Arizona for a couple weeks now. I’m right on the border of CA, like literally can look at California mountains, can kayak to them, could definitely run to them if I wanted. Being on the border of something makes me feel oddly at peace. The option is beautifully freeing and wildly safe for me. As though I have so much space to grow and move and breathe that I could just hop borders to feed my soul. It is always toasty here. Truly doesn’t matter what time of day you’re out and about yet if you get caught outside mid-afternoon, your energy is zapped in minutes and your electrolytes need major replenishing. But I love this blazing land.

I was at the water the other day, I’m just minutes from the lake. Again, could run if I wanted to, but I also am not about to give myself as a victim to heat stroke. Gazing at those mountains with Mexican street music playing in the background made me feel like I was not only living in another country but on a different planet entirely. Looking at those mountains has yet to become normal for me. They set my eyes aflame each time.

I don’t know why I did this, or if I even need to know why, perhaps there’s zero significance in it, while feeling like it held all the significance in the world. I squatted down like four year olds do when they’re picking at bugs with sticks, and I started picking up little rocks that were hanging out right at the shore line. “Where do you all come from? And how do you grow to be so different?” In that moment I felt wildly large to be able to pick up something as small as a rock and hold it gently in my hand, just to throw it back into the waves. The ones that I really loved I saved, rinsed off, and then buried near a cactus the size of a small truck. I thought about taking them back home with me but there was something in me that wanted to tuck them in the coolness of the dirt, maybe to someday be uncovered by another four year old digging for treasure, or maybe to never be uncovered again. Who knows. But there’s something in my heart that felt lighter walking away from my small mound of buried treasure, and just slightly, I beamed.