The Cathedral Of Stone and Light October 15 2019, 0 Comments

 

The Reset - Blog Post 

By Brian Bastinelli

The alarm sounds softly, and I awaken from sleep. There isn’t too much of me at this point that wants to get out from under the blankets and escape the warmth that seems to have taken all night to achieve. Crawling out from under them I suddenly feel the crisp morning air and rush get fully dressed.

Moments later, I start the truck and get the heat going.  As I drive away from where I had spent the night there is no sign of daylight anywhere in the night sky other than not being able to see as many stars as I could a few hours earlier.  Moving down the road, I see the headlights of a few other determined people heading out into the wilderness seeking that perfect vantage point to witness the beginning of a new day.

At the parking area at Dead Horse Point, I can see there are a few others doing the same thing. Once out of our vehicles though, everyone headed in their own direction, attempting to find a little slice of solitude.

As I walked down the path the only thing, I could hear was the sound of the dirt crunching beneath my feet. Walking the short distance, I could see the first traces of light on the eastern horizon. My eyes began to adjust, allowing me to see the faint outlines of the rocky formations that lie ahead. I could feel a slight, cool breeze against my skin, but I had adjusted to the temperature by now and it felt good.

When I found my spot, I sat down near the edge of a drop off that was well over a thousand feet—red rock dropping off into darkness.  I thought about the reasons why I go through this ritual of getting out to see the sun rise and begin a new day, or conversely, the sunset.  It was quiet. So quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the slight breeze blowing past my ears. I made no sounds, nor did any of the others who had gathered.  It was a collective, yet silent experience. We had come here to witness an amazing part of nature. A part of nature that in reality, we owe everything to.

I remembered the title of a book, or maybe it was a song.  Anyway, it was something like, The House of Stone and Light.  I thought about its parallels to the churches that so many go to each week. Everyone seeking their own peace and solitude from the world around them. Those buildings, so often made of stone and ornate stained-glass windows, in some way mimic what I was seeing before me. A house, no a cathedral of stone and light. This is a place for me to seek out solitude and peace, a place to witness the beginning of a new day, to feel the cool breeze slowly warm and wrap me in a level of comfort that I cannot otherwise find.

As the sun slowly crept up from behind the mountains, the color of the sky turned from a deep and dark blue through purples and pinks, to oranges and yellows and light greens.  All the colors were present, if only for just a few moments.

Contemplating what I was witnessing, I thought about the beginning of the new day and the reasons why I’m drawn too it.  When I go out and experience the amazing beauty of a new day it starts early, in the darkness. It’s quiet, peaceful and cool. It focuses my mind; it allows me to go through the ritual of preparing for something new.  The ritual of getting up, walking, finding the perfect spot, sitting and waiting.  All of it lets me clear my mind of what troubles me, or just of what has come before. This ritual allows me to open myself to the potential that lies before me. It’s the moment of reset.

As the light brightens on the horizon and the sky transitions through its incredible pallet of colors I see and hear nature awaken and begin a new day.  Creatures begin to scurry about, birds begin to sing, the breeze picks up.  Nearby a chipmunk seemed to be doing the same. Moving about the rocks and stopping now and then, looking out into the vast canyon before us.  A raven flew overhead, silent but for the sound of the wind moving around its wings.

The world around me was waking, and the day beginning anew.

I realized then that this is a celebration of connection and potential in a cathedral of stone and light.  We are connected to nature and to the shared experience of the sun rise with everyone in the world. We each have the opportunity to experience this moment and the peace it brings, no matter where we might be.

There are few things in the world that allow for true connection between everyone. But the sunrise, this new beginning, is one of them. The start of the new day, through its slow and consistent beginning, allows us to follow a ritual that clears our minds and prepares us for the day to come. It allows us to reset and center ourselves so that we might reach the potential within each of us and within the day.

If you make the effort, get moving and get out there, there is an experience waiting that can change your life, and it happens every day.  It’s the worlds way of letting you know that you have a chance to be great and accomplish anything you want. And that if you fail, it’s ok, because tomorrow we can reset and try again.

There is nothing that prevents the sun from rising. Even if there are storms and it can’t be seen, it’s there. Rising behind the clouds, warming them, creating the winds that will move them away. There is no storm that will last forever, if you just give it sometime and know that tomorrow we can reset and try again.

There is solitude and peace in the world. But it is not free. You have to seek it out. You have to use the tools that nature provides and create it for yourself.  The reward for your effort is powerful and beautiful.

As I finish writing this, the sun is now much higher in the sky, the colors have faded to light blue and white, the reds and oranges of the rocks have become varied shades of brown and the sounds of people moving into the area begin to dominate the landscape.

They get out of their cars, their bodies clean from hotel showers and their bellies full of restaurant breakfasts--they speak loudly and slam their doors. They move quickly through the area on a rigorous sight-seeing schedule, not taking the time to notice the little gifts of nature all around them.

They move on, not knowing what happened here just a short time ago. What they see is a canyon in full bright light and dark shadows. They see a beautiful image shrouded by the haze of the mid-morning sun. They see natures version of the complication of each our days. Something beautiful slightly hidden by the environmental conditions around it. They see an image that did not reach its potential.

If only they would have made the effort to see what was really there. To experience all they could have, to take in the opportunity that was provided for them. They could have experienced the true peace and beauty of the cathedral of stone and light that lie before them.

It’s out there. Its available to you, but you have to seek it out.  You have to make the effort to receive it and the peace it can bring you.