Tuesday, May 24, 2011


I am flying over the mountain west. I want to write about leaving Regent street. But I think it is too hard. Saying goodbye was difficult for Dayton—writing about it was hard too. But I had four years to think about what to say.

I have had a little over a year to build bonds with just as much strength. I cannot face the emotional pain of being separated from these people yet. I do not know what to say or how to give voice to the emotions I have right now.

We are flying over the Grand Canyon. It is an enormous crevasse that has been carved by the Colorado River for millions of years. The walls are made of granite, a hard stone that takes a long time to carve through. The Colorado was once a wide shallow river. It would pour through the valley as basically a flash flood. Then it became a constant flow, streaming from the Rockies into a largely flat plain. Over time the river made itself a bed. It carved through the granite steadily creating the largest canyon in the world. Its course became more sure, coursing through the desert all year. Today the canyon is an oasis in the desert, providing water and shelter to many desert hardened creatures. The Colorado's flow, millions of acre-feet per year (7 million are allocated for human use alone) is a testament to rivers everywhere. It has created one of the most stunning natural features in the world in one of the harshest environments in the world. It is the perfect metaphor for perseverance and change. The fluidity of life. It is a symbol of life, strength, and time. We are just blips on the radar—the Colorado will continue to run far after we are gone. And even if humanity decides to drink up all the water, the canyon will remain.

We cannot just fill it in, the Grand Canyon is permanent beyond humanity. It is bigger than us, older than us, and far wiser. It would behoove humanity to listen to the river and the message it has. It is bigger than me. And that is what my friends are to me. Permanent and lasting. They have changed my landscape forever, and they are bigger and better than me.