She sat at the top of the hill to rest, look, and think. We had arrived at the Pyramids complex early, for the third time in one month. The clouds and dust in the sky made it easier to walk all around the Giza plateau, but after a few hours of exploration and dealing with hustlers, we needed a little break. We were in the desert after all, and no dust shield could tame the Egyptian sun. No wonder the ancients thought of it as a god. Any other denomination would be a less accurate description.
I sat next to Iana and thought of all the things we were seeking: in travel, in love, in work, in art, in family, in meaning.
I dreamt of seeing this place, from this vantage point, with my own eyes, for a long time. I had seen photos of happy tourists enjoying this view. It seemed magical, and maybe even more so because it was within one’s reach, if you’d be willing to take the journey.
What I didn’t know from the idealized pictures was that you either walked all the way up here, or you came on the back of a badly treated horse or camel, sometimes seemingly at the brink of death. I also didn’t know that belly dance photos were forbidden during the current stewardship of this ancient place. Needless to say, we walked instead of torturing beasts of burden. And Iana didn’t dance that time.
I remembered a quote attributed to Rumi: “What you seek is seeking you”. As we sat there, with our common and private dreams, I figured out how to do a photo (coming soon) that I wanted to do at the pyramids for a few years. And that was my lesson from this day: when you take it all in as you find it, not as you wish it would be, a whole new set of possibilities opens up. What you seek is seeking you.
