For decades, every traveler who has crossed the New Mexico border has been greeted by a sign declaring they’ve just entered “The Land of Enchantment.” (La tierra del Encanto in Spanish). After spending ten weeks in a 400-square foot casita in Taos last summer, I understand. For the most part, I lived sparely and simply, yet my days were rich and full. Taos was, for me, a place of light, a place of peace, a place of healing and a place of inspiration.
I rolled into town in early June, reluctantly, and with little more than a suitcase after, being blindsided by the demise of my 23-year marriage. In retrospect, it was the best choice I could have possibly made.
My affinity with the region was born of a sense of wonderment that was both intellectual and visceral. Knowing a region is historic is one thing, but sensing it in ways beyond words was quite another. Whether strolling the adobe lined streets in town among descendants of the early Pueblo ancestors, appreciating the masterworks created by the Taos arts colony founders, or hiking the rim of the Rio Grande Gorge to watch purple shadows paint the Sangre de Cristo mountains at sunset, there was a sacred “forever old, forever new” vibe in the air—something that reminded me that we are all part of something immense and eternal, and that each of us has a purpose. In other words that we are all part of something bigger, more substantial, more important than ourselves.
Perhaps this feeling came from the fact that the sky is particularly bold, blue and clear in northern New Meixco, making vistas and possibilities look infinite. Perhaps it had to do with the slow pace which freed my thoughts and emotions from the tyranny of time. Perhaps the dry, clear, high altitude wind swept mental fog and cobwebs from the corners of the mind.
As my summer in Taos progressed, the colorful horizons, lustrous sunlight and proximity to nature dwarfed me, allowing me to “hide in plain sight” and think, as I went about my days. The centuries-old missions, forts and dwellings built lovingly on inhospitable desert soil stood as testament to the tenacity of humankind. These tangible reminders that I belong to the single species that inhabits all parts of the planet, adapts, thrives and creates made me feel stronger.
Of course, my Taos adventure held more than observation, reflection and contemplation. There were wholesome-yet-hedonistic pleasures, too! Culinary adventures ranging from locally-grown fare at the Farmers Market in the Plaza, to unpretentious regional delights in small family-owned cafes to sophisticated small plates at budget-friendly happy hours. More than once, a scenic, forty-five minute drive took me to the deliciously-decadent Ojo Caliente hot springs for a soak, steam and a massage.
When my mind craved activity, I enjoyed world class concerts that were open and free to the public or enjoyed chess and conversation in a charmingly Bohemian coffee shop. This was easy because the people I met were open and friendly.
I spent few and far-between rainy afternoons book browsing at the public library and perusing the museum, which proved a welcome change of pace.
By summer’s end, I returned home fortified by the inner serenity I needed to meet my life’s new challenges. For this, I am, and always will be, grateful for my time in Taos.
#####
Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.
