We left Flagstaff wondering what next and ended up later in Zion National Park in Utah. Checked into a Holiday Inn in Springdale (just outside of the "park") --- the woman at the front desk exclaimed after I checked in that "It's really nice to see your face." We then excurghzed for several miles just before the sun set, on a rocky trail up the mountain to infinite vantages of everything. Pretty rad colors, to say the least; and cool to be out still hiking as the sky's light grew dim and left us in mostly dark while moseying back to the Holiday Inn. The remarkable colors were many but the yellow leaves of some of the trees there were such, to me, that trying to describe them would hurt their chance to have spoken their truth - just get to experience them I guess and move on. Zion took my breath away (as the expression goes).
I'll begin to write more, I imagine, about what Zenso means as a personal experimentation and way of being --- lively, living with energy and... whatever else. One thing that naturally may arise in the Zenso experience, or in life, is what I have termed an "overreach". Something that's slightly or more strenuous, harder than usual, etc. Some people workout and put overreaching into their programs or whatnot; but "working out" is gone for me (at least that's the present, now-weeks-long experiment), and overreaching is just something that may happen it's way for fun or otherwise into the Butterworth adventure. Like, the hike in Zion. Didn't expect to climb for such a distance or height or..., but it felt good and the environment and we melded for it to transpire like it did. It was "more" than what I'd usually go for these days in terms of physical exertion (especially in terms of duration), so this is what I mean by calling it an "overreach".
Yet one that happened naturally, rather than forced. As in, we weren't trying to "get to the top" or "beat a certain time" or "go fast" or anything like that. It was happening because it was happening and I'm pretty sure that, the way it seemed, it was enough as it was with nothing extra aimed for, wherever it went.
Now I'll say, also, that before setting out we packed yum food (a bit of gouda and some San Peligrinos) so that if felt appropriate, we could enjoy the snacks and have in our body prime macronutrients available to be turned into continued energy. For our strength of being; and for not at some point on a long trip up into who-knows-where getting chippy or otherwise at each other. Fuel --- for staying with the experience and as a clan. Historically, an adequate supply of easily-assimilable sugar with a bit of mostly saturated fat and 10-30 grams of what we think is quality protein, makes a huuuge difference in our acting with spunk and playfulness rather than dip-shit-brained stressulfauckus.
Speaking of food, the following day we drove to Ogden, Utah for a dining experience that was spawned by Pop-Pop texting us with "If you drive through Utah, go to..." Prairie Schooner Steakhouse. So there we went, plodding hungrily in the dark, late afternoon through a busy Northern Utah strip, rain blasting on us as we walked, to a dinner I probably won't soon forget (if ever). "Cheesy", also "adorable", "fun", and "incredible", commented Shalin, as we sat at covered wagon tables, with an open fire in the middle of the restaurant, and taxidermied wildlife all over the walls throughout. And, delightful to me in particular, HONEY in a jar at the table for consumption with white bread or any other dinner item! Brix got a "Woody" sheriff badge, here too! We passed a dreamy Mormon temple on the way which added to the possible indelibility.
Thank You Pop-Pop for the tip.
Bedside bridge elevators "with a passenger" happened somewhere in all this, and many awkward but interesting carries with loads to and from the CRV happened too. Coffee and bubbly water and quinine (and Gin) and methylene blue and K2 and D3 and T3 and lots of sugar have made their way into the trip thus far, as adjuncts. And [new experiment] a mango / redbull smoothie at a drive through coffee shop in Utah. Otherwise, it's been sometimes forgetting and sometimes remembering how grateful I feel to be alive, and to be doing all this, as part and parcel with the crew that is everything there is in these transitory gems of life, to me. Please, if I ever read this back to myself, don't blink too much and continue to receive what changes in such a way that its wonderfulness continues to bloom on and on, in ways I'll never know unless I happen with it, p[l]aying attention from infinite possible windows as we go. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Oh, it's snowing!