Into the vortex

I spent some time the other day reflecting on my brief time in the Grand Canyon, which I felt had a tremendous impact on me. I think less about the actual run and more about the power and energy the canyon carried. I compare the hours and mileage covered within the canyon to almost diving into a vortex. The canyon walls oozed with an energy that felt supernatural. Lightning struck down, rain and hail pelted the Colorado River next to me, and wind attempted to slow me down. It felt as if there was a presence, one that I couldn’t see but only feel. It didn’t speak to me, but I heard it—a presence that didn’t hurt me but I know it could have if it wanted to.

There are stories and conspiracies debating whether alternate realities are real and all that stuff you’d consider crazy if spoken about over dinner. I felt like entering the Grand Canyon and then being spit out shot me into an alternate reality. Though it mirrors the reality I was in before, everything's different. The color of the grass is different. My morning coffee tastes different, and I have a dog now.