Literally, sitting at the edge of a cliff. The sun rises over the Verde Vally and rays of light paint the canyon’s luminous walls. I’m at my wits end. Sitting in the low hang of my camping chair, I bid my childhood metamorphosis farewell. I’ve become a nomad again. A nomad in pursuit of my rightful home. I have no intention of ever settling. Yet, I have every intention of laying a foundation to hold my kingdom – the intangible empire of boundless love and all-encompassing truth. The wind rustling in the trees, like the sound of a loaded highway, is enough to hear God continuously knocking on my door to stay present.

I look around, circling glances in all directions as if a surprise party was about to jump out at me. I am completely alone – until my friend awakes from the nest of car camping. I take a deep breath in, close my eyes, and offer surrender. These are the moments I crave more. Most people are afraid to eat in a restaurant by themselves. Me, on the other hand, I want my feet planted in solitude. While humans are communal beings, taking the time to refresh and connect to your own Oneness allows you to connect to all other beings even more. But we always want more of what we don’t have. So I make sure to savor this one because you never know how many there really will be. The real challenge is to mirror this feeling in each and every moment. That is the only place it exists. I also realize that the peace of mind I crave doesn’t come in dehydrated camping meals overlooking mother nature. No, the peace of mind I crave can only be provided by letting go of the pieces that puzzle the mind. Detachment.

The hibiscus tea in my jet boil is finally cool enough to sip. It sends a floral rush of warmth through me as I continue sitting with my aloneness. I hover above me and smile down for all that has led me here and take stock of sacred moments that color my story. I realize at this cliff that I am celebrating an end to era and beginning another. This new reign is one of independence and requires my complete soulful devotion. No longer can elders force feed their ideas of a better life or boyfriends tell me they think they know what’s best for me. No more conforming to social expectations or sticking around when my work has been done. No more shell of story. I was the only one invited to my surprise party. Though it’s really no surprise at all.

“Good morning,” his voice softly landed amongst the trees. I wasn’t alone anymore.