# The Canyon by Mikey Mann The sky was still dark but the birds were beginning to stir. I couldn't sleep for fear of not waking but the night passed as if I had. A lot has been on my mind since I began my adventure, and only now are things beginning to make any sense. They told me I only had nine good months left before things got worse. I remember when I got the diagnosis that it didn't feel at all like I had seen in the movies. The world didn't grow muffled and quiet, I didn't look over at my loved ones as if it would be the last time I could, I didn't have anyone in there with me. I was all that was left of my family, and I had left my ex almost a year ago. It was just me and my doctor. And it was such a beautiful day. I feel strangely at peace and this sense of acceptance growing inside me much like my other unwelcome passenger. I take a deep breath which hurts more than usual and let it out slowly resisting the urge to cough. The canyon seems to exhale with me, which makes me smile. From where I lay I can see the river flowing to my right and the light of the sun following the river is beginning to peek over the cliff's edge. As dangerous as it is for a young woman to be alone at night I didn't go home. I felt almost invincible knowing my end was near. I felt so present and aware of my place in the universe. Here I was on this mighty pebble, drifting through the ever expanding universe, and I could almost see the billions of years it took for me to be, like a film on fast forward; my time here felt like a short poem. The sun has risen and has illuminated more than the terrain this time. My injuries are substantial, but what scares me more is that I can't feel any of it. Hot furious tears boil from my eyes and I cry out in frustration. I try to scream as loud as I can. The canyon's walls sympathizing, they scream with me, or no that was only an echo. The pain was too great, it would be my last cry for help. I had bought a notebook from some 24-hour cafe and drank way too much coffee there trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. I wrote pages of things I wanted to do, things I wanted to learn, people I envisioned I could've been. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my face wiping away my tears. The canyon has been speaking to me, her voice is soft and gentle as it flows and brambles around the stones. For the first time as far as I can remember, as she cradled me, I felt cared for. She loves me and the feeling brings me more tears. I wrote one last list and for the next week I sold everything I owned and bought all of the gear I needed. I have always wanted to hike the Pacific Crest Trail and I decided that I could do it in 6 months. I could spend the my last 90 days maxing out my credit cards and traveling the world before the inevitable, better that then trying to save a sinking ship by irradiating its blood and stabbing it with a thousand needles. "Hush now, child," she says knowingly. Her embrace is compassionate and warm, I can feel my body and there isn't any pain. "It is ok," she says, with tears running down her face. Her hair is coiled long and black and her eyes reflect all she has seen. "I am with you child, this is your time." Though I almost protested, I knew it was true. Standing in front of the trail head about to take my first steps into my new life, I feel like I'm at the beginning of something greater. The weight of my backpack is so much less than the weight I've carried until I left home, and I am filled with a sense of hope beyond my understanding. I feel like I'm going to find something I've never had before. So I set off to find it.