Ever since I can remember, my mind has been going a mile a minute. I have this incredible knack for worrying about anything from future appointments to past mistakes, and anxiety has a way of filling the quietest of moments with mental clutter.
But this summer, I found a modicum of peace in the desert when I wasn’t expecting it.
I had the opportunity to study Arabic this summer in Amman, Jordan to improve my language skills in its cultural context. It was an incredible experience studying there and visiting other parts of the country, and it gave me memories that will last a lifetime.
One weekend, I joined a group from the institute where I was studying to take a trip to Petra and Wadi Rum in the southern part of Jordan. Petra is one of the 7 Wonders of the World and it was breathtaking to see in person, but my favorite part of the trip was our stay with a Bedouin tribe in the desert. This area was quite far from any major city, obviously, and I felt relaxed about the lack of cell service. It was a getaway trip from both our classes and from needing to be plugged in and involved in other peoples’ lives. We rode camels, climbed some rocks and ate dinner with our hosts who served us tea and sang songs around a firepit. It felt like summer camp in the Middle East.
They had packed the day with travel and activities, so I would’ve been more than content if the day had ended there (it was a tad exhausting). We were told, however, that the last activity would be a night hike (hike being a loose term here, referring to a slow trudge through the sand). We left the main tent where dinner was served, and I will never forget the feeling of looking up and seeing the galaxy. Without light pollution, the night sky was crystal clear and an outline of the Milky Way was visible to the eye. As someone who has lived in suburbia my entire life, I’d never seen anything like it; and I felt my shoulders start to relax and my brain begin to calm as I lost myself in the sky above me.
We climbed up an incline to a clear patch of ground many yards away from the tents and lay in the sand to take in the stars. The atmosphere was reverent, respectful and we had ten minutes of silence to simply look and be. It was one of the first times where I was told it’s okay to do nothing, and all I had to do was exist. Being the sentimental person I am, I started crying, tears slowly leaking from my eyes. This was the feeling I’d been searching for for so long—an inner stillness where I wasn’t self-conscious or worried. I just was.
The sky wasn’t a flat blue, there were shades of purple and yellow and black swirling above us. I saw a shooting star every couple of minutes. It’s hard to describe, and I definitely didn’t try to take a picture, as nothing could have done it justice.
While I was laying there, I realized that this feeling was intensely temporary and that, when I left the desert, my phone would turn back on and I would have responsibilities again. I felt sad at first that this peace wasn’t going to be something I could hold onto, but I realized how lucky I was to have felt it at all.
Follow HCND on Twitter, like us on Facebook, Pin with us and show our Instagram some love!
Photos 1, 2, and 3 provided by author