Issue 008: Aging like the hoodoos
Have you ever heard of a hoodoo?
I had no idea what a hoodoo was until last weekend. My family visited Bryce Canyon National Park, which has the largest concentrated number of hoodoos–columns of rock–in the world. We were at the park on my birthday, which meant I got to spend my 37th birthday hiking the hoodoos, gazing at orange rock against the bluest of skies, contemplating the meaning of life in a natural amphitheater, and trying to keep my five-year-old from kicking rocks at other hikers on the trail.
On our descent into the canyon, my husband mentioned that Bryce Canyon is a misnomer; unlike the Grand Canyon and other true canyons, Bryce wasn’t formed by a flowing body of water. Instead, the hoodoos were formed by weathering and erosion due to rain and ice: water got trapped in cracks in the rock, that water froze, and frost wedging broke apart the rock to form the sculpture-like spires. That morning, in between scoping out secluded spots for my kid to pee, I marched my 37-year-old body over the trails and spent a lot of time thinking about how we are all a lot like the hoodoos.
The thing is, before the powerful forces of wind and water could shape the rocks into an outdoor art gallery, the rocks had to get there. Millions of years ago, sediment had to be deposited onto the bottom of a huge lake or shallow sea, and that sediment had to become rock. Then, that rock had to get pushed up as tectonic plates shifted, and only after all of that could the rocks begin to be carved into what we see today. The beauty and magic on display at Bryce is the result of a foundation being built, exposed, then battered and broken. The beauty of our humanity isn’t all that different, is it? We spend our youth laying the foundation of who we are, and in our adulthood the person we’ve become is constantly refined and re-shaped, busted apart and stripped away to reveal our truest self. We celebrate growth even when the process is painful, even when, like the hoodoos, our beauty is the result of being battered and broken.
I have heard a lot of talk over the years about people “aging gracefully.” Often it seems this refers to people (especially women) who don’t appear to have aged at all. It sounds really lovely, but the more I think about it, I want to look my age. I want to age like the hoodoos. I know I am going to be tested and challenged. I pray that the parts of me that inhibit me from loving well or fulfilling my God-given vocation will be broken off and swept away. Being refined is intense and often painful. But what is left behind can be breathtaking.
Journal Prompt / Reflection
Write about a favorite birthday memory. Is there a party, gift, cake, etc. that you vividly remember from childhood?
Reflect on the idea of "aging like the hoodoos." Can you name any bits and pieces (or large chunks) of yourself that have been weathered and eroded away over time? How does that make you feel?