About 3 years ago, my husband and I spent a week at Big Bend National Park, in West Texas. This was a tipping point for me; in my life, my health, my work. It was a time in my life that I felt good: I was healthy, trim, creative and active, but I couldn’t see that. I could just see stress. I only focused on nutrition, on calories, on running, on eating no bread, no sugar, no alcohol, and working myself to the point of exhaustion. My body was not having it. Most importantly, my mind wasn’t either. My work had completely overcome me; there was no divide between my work life and my home life, and the only way I could truly get away was to go to a place where there was no wifi connection. Hence, our trip to Big Bend.
But what happened out in west Texas was more magical than I realized, way more than I could process; it’s taken me years to process. The drive to Big Bend can be seen as quite boring, quite long. There’s no easy or quick way there; even if you fly into the closest airport you’re looking at a 5 hour drive. From our home in Fort Worth, it took us about 9 hours. And not 9 hours through a bunch of cities with places to stop. 9 hours pretty much in the middle of nowhere. But the last few hours, as you’re getting closer, you see the scenery opening before you, and the stillness becomes more and more magical. Your work life fades, your problems fade, you start to zone out and at the same time, zone in. You have time to process what you’re about to do, and you have time to relax into a week of beauty. Those 9 hours are truly needed when it comes to seeing a place like Big Bend. You can’t fathom it; you can’t see it in one trip; you probably can’t see it in one lifetime. The scenery is out of this world, but best of all, it’s one of the National Parks that people don’t go to. At this point in my life, I’m completely burnt out on Grand Canyon and many other of the more popular parks, on the massive crowds and buses and selfie sticks. When I’m nature, I want to be in nature, away from everyone. And at Big Bend, you’re out there, with only your thoughts, your desires, your breath – and your world opens up.
It was this trip that I’ve never been able to shake. That feeling. Being in the flow, being one with nature, with breath, with movement. I knew while I was out there that I needed a major life change. And I convinced myself on the drive back that I would quit or change my job. Of course, by the time I got back, I quickly fell back into the routine of non-stop work. Everything I talked about faded the second we hit Tarrant County. I went back to work the next day, and fell right back in: non-stop emails, constant stress, constant fear, constant turmoil.
But here’s what happened: for some reason around this time, I got back into yoga. I have no idea how, or why, or who. It just happened. And I realized, after a few years of being on my mat, that the feeling I get when I’m on my mat, that’s Big Bend National Park. That’s the mountains, the fresh air, the breath, the magic. It’s the same thing, exactly. Your mind releases. Your chatter stops. You escape. Yoga is so many things: union, connection, movement, breath, love. It’s also freedom. It’s also that glorious moment where your world starts to make sense. Where the real you shows up.
And so my daily practice turned into my release. And all those conversations I had in Big Bend National Park, and the year after hiking in Yellowstone, Grand Tetons, Colorado National Monument, and throughout New Mexico: I experienced those same moments every day, the essence of them. You’re living the wrong life. You’re going down the wrong path. Look around. This is not you. Wake up.
So instead of having them once or twice a year on my week or two week long National Park road trip, I experienced them every day. That’s what yoga does. It connects you to you. To the real you. The you that’s hiding. I’ve known for years that I was on the wrong career path, but I did nothing about it. And I’ve read for years: meditate. Clear your mind and the answer will appear. I spent years forcing that. Come on, already: tell me what I need to be doing! What the hell is my passion? What the hell should I be doing with my life? And you know what? I relaxed, and it finally worked. The answer came. It came in the stillness of yoga, in the stillness of meditation. It didn’t come in a month, or in a year. But it finally came.
Yoga allows us to notice. It creates the space in our lives that allows our real selves to appear. It’s the crack, the crevice, the opening to god, spirit, love, peace, whatever you want to call it. It’s the realm of truth. Yoga is my Big Bend National Park: it’s my favorite place on earth. When I was quitting my job, all I thought was: I’ll now have free time to travel the world. I’ll be able to see it all! I can go where I want, when I want. But I had no idea, the place I wanted to go, it’s right here. It’s on my mat. My happiest place, my most fulfilled, most loving place, is right here. If that’s not some Dorothy hippie shit, I don’t know what is. But it’s the truth. Go to your mat. Go every day. The answers in your life, they do appear, they do open up. Your world is waiting to connect you to the real you.
Yogic Pizza and Big Bend National Park
Ingredients
For the Pizza
- 1 pizza crust*
- 1 portabello mushroom
- 1/2 tbsp. balsamic vinegar
- 1/2 tsp. rosemary, dried
- 1 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
- 1/4 head cauliflower
- 1/4 red onion
For the Pesto Sauce
- 2 c. basil, fresh
- 1/4 c. extra virgin olive oil
- 1/2 tsp. salt
- 1/4 c. pine nuts
- 1/8 tsp. black pepper
- 2 and 1/2 cloves garlic
Instructions
- Heat your oven to 350 degrees.
- Clean and slice the mushroom into thin strips. In a large bowl, combine the mushroom with the vinegar, rosemary, and olive oil, and set aside for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.
- Chop the cauliflower and dice the onion.
- Make the pesto: put the garlic in a food processor and pulse. Then add all remaining ingredients and pulse until smooth.
- Scoop the pesto onto the pizza crust, top with mushrooms, cauliflower, and red onions. Bake, watching the crust for the last few minutes. Remove, slice and serve!