The Canyon Move Chapter 1

The world was crashing in around us.  A global pandemic was underway, the dangerous implications of which were unfolding everyday.  Our response, our idea, that we could simply go live in the woods as some wild, feral family, enfranchised by nature and our own imaginations, made perfect sense - to us, but also, in hindsight, I realize to many, the notion likely seemed a bit crazy.  We were going to move out to the woods!  We were going to live in teepees!  Yes, teepees!  Ok, it was a lot crazy.  Indeed, I believe it was our way of reconciling the psychological dissonance that we had always felt.  A feeling no longer ignorable, as it was illuminated, almost blinding, like a flashing neon sign, by the pandemic.  Life as we knew it had changed overnight.  Our kids’ schools: closed.  Our businesses: shuttered.  Our livelihood: to be determined, check back later.  Daily schedules that had once been so, meticulously, obsessively, planned out, so frenettically, frantically carried out, were now, obsolete.  These reversals had pulled the curtain back from many of our long held, fundamental beliefs, revealing them as spurious, even harmful, and certainly not sanctioned by our inner knowing or our deeper, spiritual motivations.  Much of the societal framework we had built our lives upon and around, that we had believed would forever remain, constant and steadfast, had disintegrated seemingly, instantaneously; so what was the point now, of all the running, all the conforming?  For our family, for my husband Josh, and me, it became crystal clear that there was, in fact, no point at all, that control over our external life was elusive, fleeting and ultimately, not that important to us.  None of it had ever truly felt congruous or sustainable, anyway.  Hence, we decided to create a new story that would instead, force us to reach for grace, humility and hope as our daily tenets.  The new story would be our truth, our circumstances, told from our unique perspective, as seen from a higher and wider vantage, free from the manipulations and influences of conventional society.    

The story would need to generate an adventure, an adventurous quest filled with action and new exploits, creating opportunities for growth and realization for our family.  Seeking to control the narrative, to get out ahead of the headline, would be imperative if we were going to make this happen in the way we intended or, if I am being really honest here, if we were going to sell it to our kids.  Either way, we were resolved because we knew this was our chance to finally do it, get off the wheel, live our truth, walk the talk.  It was our declaration that we were rejecting the status quo and its parameters.  It was our admonishment of those who pined for a return to normalcy.  We wanted no part of pre-pandemic normalcy.  Aside from being able to hug friends or family outside our bubble, aside from worrying about the health of our more vulnerable community members, we were not yearning for a speedy return to pre-quarantine life.  We were leaning into the chaos the pandemic had initiated; infact, we were doubling down on the chaos.  

We would pack up our entire life, our home, our businesses, our three teenagers, three horses, two ponies, three goats, two chickens, two dogs, a pig and a donkey to a remote, wild desert canyon, 50 miles away, in Madras.  That was the plan.  That was the plan.  Teepees. 

But, before the teepees, we had THE MOVE - DUN, DUN, DUN (insert any ominous, villain themed, musical score here) the logistics of which were at best, very daunting, certainly overwhelming, and realistically, probably, totally impossible.  In the darkest moments of THE MOVE, we understood that we may not make it to the the next chapter of the story, or rather, the story might be over before it began.  Hyperbolic as it may sound, THE MOVE itself, we knew, might actually break us.  

Understand, the task at hand.  We were moving my horse school business, consisting of twenty years’ accumulation of tack and equipment, including 40 students worth of gear that had been housed in a huge, commercial equine facility where our ten school horses lived, where all of their blankets, halters, saddles, saddle pads, bridles, feed, grain, vet supplies, buckets and trunks full of accessories were stored.  We were packing and moving Josh’s town office for his massage practice which was crammed full of decorative furnishings, a massive massage table, books, artwork, and a full administrative kit.  We were moving three surly, leery, not necessarily on board yet, teenagers and all of their stuff, their junk, their clothes, their electronics, their books, their lives.  We were also moving our home, 3000 square feet of furniture, keepsakes, photos and art, musical instruments including guitars and other various string instruments, all sorts of hand drums, drum sets and tablas, oriental rugs, plants, and a kitchen kit meant to cook for and entertain and feed a family of five very, very, well.  There was also our personal barn, that housed our mini horses, goats, retired school horses, and further menagerie.  THE MOVE was a beast to be slain, a mountain to be summited, a belly in a beast to be entered.  

And, we did it.  We slayed, we summited, we entered and we made it out the other side.  

Even so, we had no time to celebrate, rest or recalibrate.  No, this was just the beginning of our journey, simply the first, treacherous leg of a grueling campaign that would test our convictions, our confidence and our stamina.  To put it simply, we had no idea the magnitude of effort, resolve and faith that we were embarking on was going to demand, continues to demand, and we had only just begun.  The journey was barely underway, chapter one, volume one.  

Still, as I sit here writing this, nearly a year later, I am grateful and humbled and excited to share the rest of our tale, even as it is still unfolding.  I am here, living in this wild, rugged, canyon wilderness, surrounded by my family, human and otherwise, looking up at the night sky, bejeweled, expansive, three dimensional, luminous and dark, all at once.  It is all a wonder.   It has all been an opportunity for reflection and growth, absolutely, a juncture for realization, a space for belly laughs and ugly cries.  I wouldn't change one second of it, wouldn’t go back, wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

- Victoria Williams