Finding Synchronicity in Boulder, Colorado
Blasting Through Creative Writing Blocks
Before I begin, I must confess, that some days I succumb to the belief that play is folly and insensible, travel excessive, and that I must work to deserve such luxuries. However, according to poet and playwright novelist Julia Cameron, these beliefs only serve as creative blocks. My intention for this trip was to blast through these ideas and reconnect with my inner artist and, instead, hold the belief that what I really want to do is what I’m meant to do.
For me, that is showing up to the page. June 29, 2022, I wrote in my morning pages, “A morning hike is good for the brain. I am reminded that life is much more about play than it is about work when I watch how the sunrise dances with the flat irons, rendering glints of orange, red, and umber — earthy vibrations. I let them seep into the weary parts of my soul, solidifying the convictions needed to summit this rocky mecca. Now I am able to reclaim the bits of life that tend to slip away like loose rock.”
This reflection was a result of my sunrise hike up Gregory Canyon. With my tour guide Jordan and his dog Mac we begin our ascent up the mountain. I am welcomed by pine trees that canopy over the lower footpaths. Soon we gain more ground and are scrambling up steeper rocks. Jordan stops to smell the trunk of a nearby ponderosa tree which smells of sweet maple. The scent swirls around me and puts me in a trance — the mountain has taken a hold on me.
During our final ascent, I acknowledge the voices I have been fighting since the beginning of my trip — “You don’t know what you are doing. Why did you do this trip alone? This writing trip is absurd.” But alas, we reach the top, the sun's rays are hitting us from overhead, and the voices vanish. I appreciate Jordan and Mac for sharing this morning hike experience. It gave me a good foundation for my later excursions and truly set my solo trip in motion.
After completing Gregory Canyon, I decide I want a challenge. Mount Sanita, you are brutal, but you are beautiful! My backpack straps are soaked with sweat and chafing my shoulders. I am burnt like a sandstone.1300 feet of elevation gained. It is a rather rugged climb. Bad Bunny is blaring from my pant pocket.
I summit this mountain and find myself perched among other victorious hikers, with high fives, and pictures all around. As I am rehydrating, a fellow Sanita champion asks me if I am “really drinking coconut water?” I affirm this and continue to drink said coconut water. Nick, otherwise known as Sanita champion, introduces me to Jenz and Chris, and we all “hydrate so we don’t die-drate.” Then we together form an alliance in order to defeat this dangerous descent.
After what feels like hours of riding down a rocky landslide, Jenz and I fall twice. I was growing weary, but thanks to my new friends I am able to make it safely down the treacherous Sanita Valley. Soon enough we are frolicking through the low land meadows and kicking back to some rewarding French pop in Chris’ car.
Chris, if you’re reading this, I will always remember our conversations out on the mountain that day and how great it was to meet a fellow writer. You told me that we should write as though it is only for ourselves and I hope to now stand by that. And I commend you for choosing to stay up all night writing about your cherry stick poem instead of your assigned essay that was due. It’s time we start writing what we're meant to.
That evening I took the bus from Gunpark to downtown Boulder to celebrate our climbing accomplishments with the other Sanita survivors. Here I was, alone with my thoughts, riding into the night. It was so dark you had to trace the distant mountains in your head to convince yourself you were still in Boulder and not in some endless time continuum. But it felt just like that, a sort of time warp, the bus moving all on its own, no driver in sight.
As the passenger, I couldn’t get off or choose which fate I wanted. I imagined some creative force was transporting me to what blocked artists feel is considered the forbidden mountainside. A landscape full of ideas and opportunities that stretches for miles and never runs out. I had arrived at what Julia Cameron calls, synchronicity, not to be mistaken with luck or coincidences.
Synchronicity happens when we align with the flow of the universe rather than insisting the universe flow our way.
As I surrendered to the land of possibility I was surprised by what the universe would impart. There was divine confirmation that I was meant to write a story about this trip.
“Don’t let ANYTHING stop you from writing,” my bus driver who is an author for an African magazine tells me. He has been writing for years and speaks with great passion.
“It’s meeting other creatives that inspired me to write. I hope to find a creative community and continue writing,” Chris relays to me on the mountain trails.
And Nick, who led our expedition through the rocky cliffs that almost swallowed us whole, inspired the momentum for this story by telling me he is all about moving forward and taking action. He never looks back.
On my last day hiking, as I was wandering through the Chautauqua Valley, I was greeted at the foot of Ski Jump Hill by Kaci and Kate. We banned together as the Filipina Sistas! 🤜🏽🤛🏽 I couldn’t have asked for better hiking buddies. In the next six months, catch us running a vacation marathon together in Banff Canada, Kaci absolutely killing it, I’ll be sweating it, and Kate will somehow be running AND taking a million pictures ;)!
By the end of this trip, my hands were calloused, and my legs were about to give way, but I made one final hike before boarding my plane. A mixture of smoldering heat and mountain breeze grazed by back one last time, and I began to feel a sad separation well in my chest. I was really going to miss the friends I had made while exploring Boulder’s natural elements. I had played hard. I had learned that in order to nurture the artist within we must keep moving and we must keep writing.
Thank you for reading and I hope we can meet on our next adventure!
❤ Sofia
