I decided to hike one morning while visiting Sedona, despite having only packed flip-flops.
I pushed forward, slowly but steadily— hiking the red rocks barefoot when necessary.
The terrain was beautiful.
The craters in the rocks led me to imagine what hiking on Mars might feel like—
the kind of terrain you might need to condition for.
I watched as several hikers turned back before reaching the top.
Some weren't prepared.
Some were intimidated.
Some simply decided they had gone far enough— reached their end.
One woman joined me after her sister reluctantly turned back.
After casual conversation along the trail, we reached the top.
The place where everyone stops to celebrate.
There was even a sign.
"End of Trail."
People gathered around, taking in the beauty below.
We took pictures for one another,
capturing the landscape stretched out beneath us.
Some sat quietly, catching their breath.
Others, having conquered what they came for,
headed back down.
I stood there for a minute.
Then realized…
I wanted a little more space.
I kept walking.
Beyond where everyone else's journey had ended, I found it.
A small overhang tucked into the rocks.
Quiet.
Still.
Safe from the strong desert rays.
Completely empty.
I sat there for a long time.
I peeled a juicy orange.
The sweetness— somehow even better after the climb.
The cicadas' robotic rhythm echoed through the canyon.
Birds zipped in and out of tiny crevices in the rock.
The cool sandstone slowly pulled the heat from my skin.
The breeze carried the scent of sage.
Maybe the end of the trail isn't always the end.
How many times have we believed the signs?
The end of a relationship.
The end of a career.
The end of a dream.
The end of certainty.
The end of the version of ourselves we thought we'd always be.
Endings are real.
But they can also be beginnings—
the start of a different path.
Some of the most meaningful parts of life have happened after an ending.
After we left what was familiar.
After we kept going.
Healing asks the same thing of us.
There's a place beyond the ending.
Beyond the story we've been telling ourselves.
Beyond who we thought we had to become.
Something inside us quietly whispers,
"Keep walking."
The overhang wasn't my intended destination.
It became the place I wanted to be.
I wonder how many beautiful places we've missed…
simply because we believed the signs and followed someone else's roadmap.
The trail ends…
and curiosity begins.
What if the end of the trail
is simply where your own journey begins?
