Touring Deep Time, Part 1

On our recent tour through New Mexico and Arizona, my wife Molly and I found ourselves in the presence of some deep time. And by “found ourselves” I mean “planned our trip to be.” The trip included Ghost Ranch, a Presbyterian camp and conference center near Abiquiu in northern New Mexico, the Chaco Culture National Historical Park a couple hours west, Meteor Crater near Winslow, Arizona (which has its own little time loop), and the Grand Canyon in northern Arizona. An unscheduled but anticipated stop at Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff, AZ, fit into the scheme as well. Each site confronted us with history on scales from human generations to older than human civilization, to a significant fraction of the age of Planet Earth.

Ghost Ranch

Taking our tour in order, let’s begin at Ghost Ranch. This first stop wasn’t planned for its time connection but as a site for spiritual retreat to begin my sabbatical. Spiritual retreats have their own time bubbles in our experience, standing outside the usual flow of chronos, the chronological time of schedules and calendars and time management. Instead, they tend to flow, in church lingo, in kairos, the timeless time of the eternal. That’s a special experience where time seems to lose its strict meaning and moments of inspiration seem to last forever while still being just now. While retreats aren’t all made up of kairos, they still tend to have a rhythm of their own outside our usual experience of time. I’ll get into all that more in another chapter. The thing here is we wanted to set the sabbatical time apart and a weeklong retreat seemed like a good way to do it.

What I didn’t realize was how beautiful and remarkable a place Ghost Ranch is. While the retreat program itself turned out not to be specifically spiritual, Ghost Ranch created an experience of a God-blessedness just for being at Ghost Ranch.

For me, the landscape carried much of the blessing. The geology of the area has created a system of mesas, flat-topped hills or ridges with steep sides that rise above a plain. They are refugees of erosion, having an area of denser rock at the top that protected the sedimentary layers below from washing away as quickly as surrounding areas. As a result, the sedimentary layers are laid bare for all to see and for geologists to study, date, and catalogue, and for artists and poets to gaze on in wonder, to capture in color and language. Being one with a love of science and a penchant for art, I was enthralled.

Ghost Ranch has two museums, one anthropological about the Native cultures of the area and one paleontological about the geology and dinosaurs of the area. What I learned about the geology blew my mind. You can look up the details yourself, but the two things that really grabbed me were that the bottom layers of the mesas date back to the time before dinosaurs appeared on earth, and that several of the layers of the mesas were laid down when New Mexico was under an inland sea and all the continents were still all mashed together. In a culture where 50 years is considered historic, walking on 250-million-year-old ground and being conscious of continental drift is shocking.

I wonder what would happen if we carried this awareness with us more consciously in our daily lives. No matter where you stand on the planet, you can have this sort of experience if you let your mind go there. Would we be more humble about our endeavors, less anxious about our mistakes and failures, more careful about how we spend our tiny slice of time, if it were in the context of millions of years instead of hours, minutes, and seconds? Would it be a step toward experiencing eternal life to frame our existence in the midst of such deep time instead of the urgent now?

Wait! There’s more! See also: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,