What I Learned in the Desert
- amyransullivan
- Feb 28
- 5 min read
When you think of the desert, what comes to your mind? Perhaps qualities like dry, hot, barren, empty, vast, empty, mysterious, lonely, boring, or something else?
Every morning, I draw a moon card and an archetype card. They give me something to contemplate during my meditation and throughout my day. This morning, I drew the DESERT archetype card. At first, I thought, “How fitting? I’m about to host a retreat in the desert.” As I read the card description, I ruminated on how potent a teacher the desert can be. That which seems unpleasant at first may be the most beautiful and rewarding when viewed through a different lens. Here are a few of my desert lessons.
The desert holds a special place in my heart. When I was 5, I started camping there with my best friend, Erik, and his parents. Erik and I would arise every morning before dawn, scramble up the small hill by our campsite, and silently watch the sunrise. No parents. No shiny distractions from the human world. Just us and the vast sun-kissed land surrounding us, full of potential and wonder. Then we’d run back down to camp, rekindle our fire from the prior night, pour ourselves a huge bowl of cereal, and play quietly until our parents woke up. In this way, the desert taught me about freedom, simplicity, and possibility.
For years, we camped in the desert. My mom, stepdad, and stepbrother joined, as did other family friends. We spent our days hiking, discovering cool rocks and sometimes indigenous tool remnants, and immersing ourselves in the wilderness around us, with no signs of modern civilization in sight.
There were so many rocks and geodes and tools I wanted to bring home every one! My friend Erik’s parents taught me the concept of “keepers” and “one timers”. Keepers are the rocks we find so very special that we know they are important to keep. But that’s not every rock. Keepers are few and far between. Most rocks are one-timers. Beautiful and special, we appreciate the one-timers in this moment and put them back so they can be appreciated by others. Both types of rocks have a place and a time. So too are possessions, phases, and people in life. Some are keepers that stay with us for a long time, others are one-timers. Both are important in their own ways.
Often, the desert is associated with harshness and extremes. Sometimes it’s quiet and still, almost as if suspended in time. Other times, it’s vehemently alive with wailing winds and pungent heat or torrential rains and flash floods. This taught me respect for the simple power of nature. It also allowed for lessons in preparation. How can I plan ahead to stay safe and comfortable as conditions change around me?
The desert was the first place that taught me to be still. To sit quietly and observe. I discovered that when I allowed my stillness, everything else would have space come alive. Suddenly, I’d hear the buzz of the nearby insects. I’d see the stink bugs and ants plodding along and witness a lizard or a bird that I hadn’t noticed until I chose to get quiet and allow nature to unfold in its own way and time.
The desert is often described as being barren and lifeless. That is far from true. The desert is full of life, but it’s suited for harsher conditions, so it looks and behaves differently. Sometimes it appears in a smaller package or wrapped in a hard, spiny exterior to stay safe from the elements. Those tiny, sharp, hard aspects may look strange or unfriendly, but they serve as those creatures’ superpowers.
Desert life is also full of opportunists who are masters of patience and timing. The big bloom of the flowers and cati happens once a year in the spring after the big rains. Many creatures are more active at night, and both plants and animals are hyper-efficient at collecting and maintaining water. The desert flora and fauna show us how to be a survivor, finding tenacity, creativity, and perseverance to keep going and bloom bright, even when the conditions around seem harsh and unyielding.
And then there are the stars. The desert night sky was my first introduction to the Milky Way galaxy, meteor showers, overwhelming awe, and a true feeling of being at home and at peace in the darkness.
In April of 2019, just a few months after my mom had passed away, I attended a yoga retreat in the desert. I wandered off on my own for a bit and found a big rock to perch on and journal. I had my mom’s phone with me (it was newer and took better pictures). I set an alarm, journaled a bit, and then put my head down and allowed stillness. Suddenly, the song Wagon Wheel by Old Crow Medicine Show started blaring. This was a very special song for my mom and me. I freaked out for a moment, then I burst into tears, ugly laughed/cried, and felt completely enveloped by love from my mom. It was a moment of feeling held and supported despite being alone and in grief. Beyond anything I can ever explain, the desert possesses a certain magic. I always feel safe to just be, in my feelings, in my body, in the moment.
The desert archetype card spoke of these gifts, too. What we see at first glance as harsh, unyielding, and lifeless is actually full of vibrance and abundance; it just might come in a different package or require a little creative spirit to tap into. Rough environments teach us patience and trust, and to prepare and nourish ourselves so we can persist under strenuous circumstances. Being still allows something new to come alive. Sitting with emptiness can lead us to feeling complete within ourselves. Embracing the vastness invokes the sense of awe and wonder and transforms loneliness into inclusion. Some things stay with us a long time, others just a moment, and that’s ok.
All these qualities make the desert a place where I feel simultaneously small and insignificant while also completely plugged in and connected to something bigger and infinite. I’ve found this connection in many places in nature, but the desert will always be my first.
When you think about your life, have you experienced moments that felt desert-like? Perhaps you felt alone in a harsh environment, parched or devoid of something you needed, with no end in sight. What tools did you tap into to make it through those times?
Perhaps there is an aspect of your life now that feels a bit like trudging through a desert. Where could you harness a little patience, stillness, persistence, creativity, allowing, awe, simplicity, or freedom to guide you forward?
If this post has called you to contemplate where you are heading in life, where you want to be, and where you feel stuck, I invite you to get quiet and still (like the desert) and allow yourself to write it out. See what starts to emerge. Notice where you might find some gifts tucked in with the struggle. Perhaps you will start to see just how strong and capable you are and feel more confident about what next steps to take.
If you feel called and curious to go deeper, I invite you to join me in the desert for a weekend retreat. We will spend a few days getting clear on what you want in life, releasing the things holding you back, and planting new seeds to propel you forward so you can bloom into an even more radiant version of yourself. All within the magical realm of the desert, which I believe helps make these transformations extra potent.
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