Horse With No Name

I went to the desert in a horse with no name… song keeps playing in my head. But yes, I went to the desert a few weeks ago.

I was planning to write about it but life got in the way. (“Got in the way” means my mind got in the way. My life is not that eventful considering my once every two weeks trip to the Filipino market is already considered as a mini getaway these days.) I've first seen the desert through movies like the gods must be crazy and the disturbing yet very eye opening Book of Eli. The nonexistence of almost anything other than rocks and a few plants is ironically, very nourishing to the soul.

However, for years, I’ve loved the endorphin spikes I get in living the “human” life in the heart of the cities that I’ve been. From grabbing a cab, finishing a bowl of instant ramen in 7 eleven, battling their way into the overcrowded train, strutting in their well-pressed shirts to prepare for that job interview that took them four long years in the university to get qualified for- everybody looks like they’re in there for something. Everybody looks like they’re fighting too hard for their dreams. Everybody makes it seem like life is this 10 mile marathon that you have to take as soon as you hear that gunshot that says, run!

That is probably why humanity finds relief in the presence of nature. We think that going out of town is an escape from the life that we imposed on  ourselves. So what we do is schedule regular trips to dip in the ocean, to hike the mountain, to thread the desert or to just be anywhere where trees exceed buildings in number. I have not yet found the best way to live my life so I certainly do not think that leaving the city to be a hipster is the better course to follow. But what I do know is that the human heart is happier and more at peace with its self in the presence of Earth in its natural form than it will ever be inside a concrete building.

I have never excelled in science and have not studied anthropology. But I have lots of questions about everything. I am a lazy ass and not too smart to go digging in my educational books for answers. What I often do though is stare blankly while a hurricane occurs in my brain every minute or two. I have so many disturbing questions that if asked to my parents or teachers or friends, would warrant me an admission to a psych ward or abomination from the tiny circle of friends that I have carefully crafted through the years.

I have read and heard about those who probably have the same unanswered questions as me but have found the courage to look for answers or to at least, accept that there are several possible ways to solve the equation and they just have to stick to the ones that give their heart its needed comfort.

I was meant to write about the desert. But the desert is too wide and mysterious that its scope goes beyond its physical stature. If I’m supposed to tell you one thing about the desert, it would be this- you’ll sit on a patch of sand and you’ll get to meet life.