Divinely Intertwined

“Isn’t this the essence of family?” said the mountain biker stopped admiring one cacti leaning on the other. I was in the last quarter of my hike. The part where I’ve already gotten lost, then back on trail, touched boulders that have called me over to touch their lime green lichen and gone far enough that my brain relinquished to the steps of my body. The part where I will randomly start running because of a burst of excitement and then abruptly pause to admire the view. Surrounded by so many Saguaros, brush, lizards and snakes I can’t see. Everything feels wiser than me and it is because it is so much older than I am. And it will continue even after me. This hike circles Granite Mountain, a favorite because it is a miracle of stacked boulders that cast shadows and mysterious triangles of light in between them.

The desert comforts me with these looming saguaros. They tower over me as they show their devotion to the sun and the entire ecosystem that surrounds them. While the lotus flower is symbolic in Buddhist and Yogic traditions, I propose the Saguaro fits more so with their teachings. They are twenty years old when they’ve reached only one foot. At forty, three. Therefore these one’s surrounding me are mainly over 100 years with some likely over 175. They grow arms when they are off balance to bring them back into equilibrium. They know they have gone too far one direction so they manifest an extension; a shift forward to what they were always supposed to be. Birds and spiders live in them and they are offered protection from its needles. It is illegal to remove one and requires a “cactus doctor” to move them with a permit. They have to be replanted in the exact degree they were facing the sun. So delicate, dependent on the sun’s life force and yet resilient enough to morph into something intricate and invite other species inside to thrive.

These particular two were unique. One was entirely deceased. It’s fibrous skeleton exposed. Needles fallen long away, green coloring faded to beige. It’s inner crevices displayed. Yet there is no question what it once was, a tall and mighty cactus with at least four arms. It had a long life, dedicated to the sun. It would still be a home for birds and insects. Though hollow, it could still offer shelter and comfort. Desert artists often recreate furniture and artwork out of this husk. So versatile even in death.

Yet most unusual was that this cactus had tipped and landed on its neighbor. This other cactus remained perfectly erect, staring at the sun, it’s arms intertwined with the deceased. In one way the deceased hugged the living. In another, the living carried the deceased.

The question once again, “Isn’t this the essence of family?” he asked.

“God that’s so true,” I said with a laugh. Such a perfect image for me in this exact moment in my life.

We stood there admiring it. I took out my phone to snap a photo. I thanked him for pointing it out and spent the rest of my hike reflecting on this scene. So many variations I can see in this image that all pertain to the essence of family.

It is emblematic of an ideal family. That in your darkest moments, your steep fall, your rock bottom, your despair, your mistakes, your failures, that your family is there to catch you and prop you right up alongside them. I am beyond blessed to say my family has always done this for me. So pertinent now in this particular time of transition. They allow me to rest on them. They keep me from falling to the ground. And I always want to be there for them in the exact same way. Through illness, uncertainty, pain, death I want to stand so tall with my arms wide ready to catch and embrace.

It also represents the deceased that have gone before us. I’m quick to think of my Grammy, the one who called me Maggie. I feel her so strongly with me. I even brought out a picture of her and my Grandaddy in July to put in my bedroom here. I feel her touching me and intertwined in such a way. Like she hugging me, turning me toward the sun to see the truth. To bear witness to beauty in all things. That her spirit leaning on me allows me to see more signs and appreciate more about people in the same way she was so compassionate. And now more so, in her own love story. She only got to know my Grandaddy through letters, her in Canada and he in Virginia. It’s as if she’s sharing some of her same magic with me today.

It’s a reminder too that this cycle of life and death is more than what we can possibly understand. That our timelines and life experiences are not woven linearly. It directly confronts any fear of death I possess. The innate anxiety of not having accomplished enough in any moment is quelled by the realization that our existence is part of a greater fabric. That unconditional love is the supporting base. That we are never alone. That if you leap, the universe will lean right back on you and prop you up, even if it’s in another iteration.

So yes, this is the essence of family. Of ancestors. Of purpose. Of collaboration. Of divine love. Of trust.

We are creatures designed for connection and the more we commit to uncovering the patterns that unite us, the more limitless possibilities we experience. Each life is so worth it.

I won’t waste mine. I feel too many propping me up and I want to do the same.