Taylor Schermer

Jessica McCallum
Honors Humanities
February 11, 2020
Personal Narrative Essay
The crisp morning air flowed through my lungs as the sun rose over the sandy canyon
walls. The golden rays hit my eyes, luring me out of my sleeping bag. This was my second
morning on the Colorado River. I rose out of my sleeping bag and took a moment to appreciate
the beauty. The rapid’s soothing sounds rushed by while the red cliffs towered above me,
protecting me from the harsh winds.
I had slept outside that night to stare into the deep, dark abyss of the sky dusted with
hope: the stars. I slowly unzipped my warm, cozy sleeping bag and let the frosty air rush in.
Sitting up, I grabbed my Chacos and tightened them over my feet. I looked around, and I was
the only one awake. The only soul stirring.
It had been approximately two weeks since my life as I knew it fell apart. I vividly
remember sitting on my brown speckled carpet lit up by the sunshine in my room, when I heard
my mother’s hoarse voice yell to me and my brother to come downstairs to her room. When my
mom calls for a family meeting you know one of two distressing things are going to go down: 1)
someone is going to get in trouble or 2) something serious is about to happen. I slowly trudged
down the stairs going over every possible scenario in my head. I tried to remember if my brother
and I had done something wrong. I couldn’t think of anything, so I told myself if I thought of the
worst thing possible I could handle anything else. As I approached my parent’s bedroom my
mind kept repeating, ​At least they won’t be getting a divorce. At least they won’t be getting a
divorce. At least they won’t be getting a divorce...
I walked into my parents’ room. My little brother and my parents were already sitting on
the same brown speckled carpet, theirs darkened by the shade. Angry bees were flying around
my stomach making it ache with anxiety. I took a seat and looked into the empty eyes of my
parents. My mom’s cheeks were stained with tears and my dad’s usually goofy smile had
disappeared. They looked at each other and my mind screamed at me, reminding me, ​At least
they won’t be getting a divorce​. My dad spoke first, his words shattering my soul, shattering my
protection. “We’re getting a divorce.”
My mind spun around in a circle while my mom’s sobs faded in the background. My
spirit left my body, and I was now watching myself sitting there frozen while my mom and
brother’s eyes shed tears. My dad’s once joyful eyes were full of sadness and pain. I felt a
numb, empty feeling. I sat there watching my family shatter into a million dark pieces of
brokenness. I knew my dad was strong enough to get past this, but watching my mom and
brother break down, I knew I had to be the strong one for them. No matter what emotions I felt
after my numbness went away I had to get rid of them.
The following days were bleak. Nothing was beautiful because everything with the slim
chance of being beautiful faded. The blue sky was now clouded with meaninglessness.
Although I tried not to feel, emotions sprung up on me attacking my soul. My hurt and pain
fueled my hatred for anything beautiful. Deep down I wanted to run far away, where I could live
under the illusion of happiness again. I found myself drowning in harsh, stormy existential
waters, confused by humanity’s efforts in life.
Two weeks passed, and I still felt lost in the world. My friend invited me to raft down the
Colorado River with her. We would travel from Mexican Hat to Clay Hills Crossing over the
course of five days. The part of me that held on the hope of happiness ached to go, while the
rest of me didn’t see the difference in staying or going. To satisfy my hunger for happiness, I
chose to go on the trip.
My dry pack was stuffed with the essentials for a river trip. After ensuring my mother that
I would be fine, I put on a fake smile and left for Utah. As we drove I watched the snowy, rocky
mountains turn into vibrant sandstone formations. The bright blue raft trailed behind us packed
tightly with our gear.
We got to the put-in and the sun was blaring down on us. We unloaded and quickly took
off. There was something different about the air. It smelled sweeter. The sun illuminated the
canyon walls. The bright reds and oranges that bounced off the walls overloaded my eyes. The
negative aura that had been haunting my soul ever since my life changed was being scared
away, slowly, by the vast amounts of beauty within the walls of the canyons. The roar of the
raging river was washing away the darkness I had felt. The nature around me was reminding
me why humans choose to live life.
My mind was no longer clouded with the impending doom of life, but instead, it was filled
with the exceptional truth that the beauty of nature heals. Humanity was meant to explore and
enjoy nature, which is why we put an effort towards life. I felt I alone had to be strong, but the
river spoke of something else. The river was supported by the canyon walls, which gave a
canvas to the golden rays of sun. When life is falling apart, isolation will only lead to darkness
and lack of direction, but the support of others can help lead you back to happiness. The canyon
walls, the thundering rapids, and the golden rays of the sun had reminded me that life is beauty.
“In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.” (John Muir)