travels.of.tara

2025 deteriorated quickly for me. The new president immediately wreaked havoc on the world, and I found it affecting my stability, my sanity, and then, very directly, during the busiest time of year, my work. Meanwhile, I began covering for my supervisor throughout her parental leave, my day-to-day changing dramatically away from leading advocacy campaigns to leading a department and managing up. On top of that, a long slow process to take care of some heel pain that kept me away from my physical and mental health outlets of movement – walks, yoga, and dance class – punctured by a couple of weeks working at home in a boot. Bad winter weather kept me in an indoor funk, and then it led me to cancel a short trip to Florida at the last minute to try to escape the cold. It’s been a lot.

And yet as I write this, I feel like myself again. It’s kind of miraculous. And unsurprisingly, I have travel to thank for my renaissance.

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As I sat cross-legged on the cliff edge at the top of the hike, staring into the red rock formations below and feeling the morning sun warm my back, I felt a profound sense of…something. It was part an adrenaline-fueled explorer high from scrambling the steep rock face, part deep satisfaction with my life choices that led me to that spot, part the clarity of accepting uncertainty in life, part awe of the magic of solo travel to get me out of my months-long funk, part gratitude, part calm, part quiet hilarity at the family that decided to stand right behind me to take a photo while whispering to each other, and lots of other parts. Maybe there really is something to those energy vortexes.

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A week and a half before a planned 12-day trip to Arizona, my burnout caught up with me. April is the only time in the first half of the year where it’s relatively easy for me to take more than a few days off, so early in the year I set my plans: a week in Tucson where I could work remotely during the day (responsibly avoiding a long vacation during the parental leave coverage), and then a few days off in Sedona. It was the perfect, responsible travel plan: I’d been to Tucson a few times before so I wouldn’t feel pressure to run around and see everything, and with the time difference I’d be off from work at 2pm, leaving plenty of daylight for hiking and exploring. Then on to Sedona, a new spot, where I would fully lean in for vacation mode. A great plan. But oh, that burnout.

April Fools Day was really mischievous this year, and after yet another bad day I found myself in midtown meeting my friend Diana for a very impromptu happy hour. We found the perfect, cheap but classy bar, and sat for hours debriefing our work stresses. In retrospect I can’t believe how much my mind was blown when she suggested I fully take off the entire 12 days. I protested the idea a lot – no, what about this monthly meeting I have to present at; no, what about the people I’m supervising who need support; no, I have to save my vacation days for when I can travel internationally; no, it would be so irresponsible. Who even was that person??

So that Friday, a week before my trip, I informed my boss that I was burnt out and would be taking off the full week and a half.

She didn’t protest. I could tell from her voice that she was a little nervous to not have me there, but my framing did not leave space for a refusal. Perhaps supporting my case a little, the day before I left at 4:30pm, as I was leaving home for physical therapy, there was a small “crisis” which was NOT AT ALL a crisis but sent me spinning into an actual panic attack where I had to remind myself to breathe. It was awful. I didn’t bother to steady my voice as I told my boss I could take care of the task that night, and I could tell my tears scared her into managing it herself. I cried my way into PT and eventually calmed down. Dang, did I need a vacation.

What a preamble, amiright?? Let’s go to Arizona.

Since I had only a week to plan for a real vacation, my Tucson plans were extremely loose. And it was amazing that way. I stayed in a great Airbnb guesthouse with a pool and a quiet garden outside my door. I got plenty of sleep every night, staying on east coast time and waking with the sunrise at 6am each day. I had slow mornings, doing my PT exercises and meal prepping for the day, then would set off for my daily hike.

Perhaps 10 straight days of hiking wasn’t the best idea for someone recovering from a foot injury, but it was the only thing I wanted to do. I took it slower than normal, going for shorter hikes and using poles often. After a few hours of sunshine, I would come back, ice my foot, do some stretching or yoga, then go lounge by the pool while catching up on journaling or reading novels. I got takeout dinners from amazing southwest restaurants, spent the dark hours planning for my next day, and went to sleep early to start it all over again. What a delight.

It was my fourth time in Tucson, so I was excited to return to some of the hikes I had done before, though on each trail I found new ways to explore and make them feel new and exciting. I kicked it off in Sabino Canyon, a local favorite spot where I felt my first of many little bursts of joy at using my annual National Parks pass. After a warm up hike of about an hour to see how my foot was doing, I took the open-air narrated shuttle bus into the canyon with the traveling seniors and families, reminiscing about an amazing full-day hike I’d done in the area the last time I’d visited. I took the driver’s advice to hang out by a dam on the way back, which was more like a little watering hole with a small stream flowing into smooth rock. I explored around the rocks a bit, until the water called to me and I went in up to my belly in my shorts, letting the cold little waterfall splash into my hands. The desert air dried me off quickly as I ate my lunch and reveled in how different today was from just 2 days ago. I still felt the tension in my shoulders and the stress was still there, but I was very aware of how different I was already feeling. Travel is magic.

The next day, I did my favorite mountain drive up Mount Lemmon – which goes up about 7,000 feet and has wildly diverse landscapes along the way. The journey led me to follow a random sign deep into the isolated woods where I discovered a full-on lake, with people fishing, swimming in the icy water, and even taking wedding photos. Up top I ended up doing a 2-mile hike at 9,000 feet elevation, huffing and puffing and bracing myself in the strong wind, but admiring incredible views.

I kept going back to Saguaro National Park (the west and east park districts sandwich the city), reveling in the blooming saguaro cacti and ocotillo and the quiet I found so easily on the trails. My last day in town was my planned longer-hike, a returning favorite called the Sendero Esperanza (hope trail). The trail goes up to a ridgeline where you can decide how much more to walk in multiple directions, and I ended up walking much further than planned – just around that bend, just over that incline. Going further than planned was definitely a theme.

I ventured into a few connecting trails in the lesser-visited Tucson Mountain Park, finding true isolation as I explored my way to an abandoned homestead in the mountains. The quietest part of the Hidden Canyon trail tested me with nearby hikers, first two women in a noisy and personal conversation, and then a crying baby. A quick moment to recognize and appreciate how joyous I am to not have children, and how terrible hiking would be with a baby. I certainly would not be there in my solitary joy bubble if I had a child.

I was also glad I reached out and had dinner with my old grad school friend Alison! She helped introduce me to the area years ago and a lot of those hikes that are now my favorites.

The hiking and resting time really rejuvenated me. I had so much time to process my thoughts, and more importantly, to indulge some daydreams about my future that had been percolating recently. There was a noticeable arc to the week. It took a few days to drop the stress edge and really get into it. Then a few days to think deep and dream about my future. I didn’t come to any conclusions, but in the last few days of the week I discovered some clarity about my options and was able to make peace with where I’m at for now. A lot of the dreams are about infusing travel into my life more.

So the sunny desert definitely served as a detox trip, and by Sunday I was ready to embrace the vacation part of my trip in Sedona and let go of my existential crisis for a few days. The 4-hour drive was great and fast (especially after I had exchanged my rental car for one without a ‘service due’ light – I am truly cursed by rental cars). I only had two and a half real days in Sedona, and I spent them exploring nature and maximizing my time without rushing through anything. I chose popular hikes, but skipped some of THE MOST POPULAR HIKES due to reviews that highlighted 40-minute waits just for a photo. It was crowded, but also not that bad. My pre-sunrise departures helped with that a lot. I was especially proud of getting one of the last spots in the lot at 5:50am, before it filled up just after 6 and before they forced everyone to take a shuttle bus after 7. I ate breakfast and stretched in the parking lot, took my time on the hike, and was the last car to leave the lot – I changed my shoes and blasted the AC while I watched the suckers waiting for the bus to return.

Sedona is known for being a desert hippie town, with lots of crystal shops and mystical new age vibes. It’s also known for the area’s energy vortexes, which I understand are designated areas near certain rocks and hikes that emit powerful energies from the earth, of either masculine or feminine qualities. They can make you feel childlike and confident, or healing and introspective, or lots of other powerful qualities. Everyone experiences them a little differently, with some not feeling anything and others experiencing powerful transformations. I’ve always been a very scientific person, and while I can access my meditative side I’ve never been drawn to new age ideas. Still, I was intrigued, and sought out the vortex areas to see what would happen.

My first hike upon arriving was right near my hotel, known as Bell Rock, and was said to have a masculine energy vortex. After battling the crowds for a parking space I had fun hiking to the rock face, and then and climbing up and exploring while ogling my first views of the stunning landscape (though punctured by the road and car noise below, not to mention the insane crowds). It was a quick feeling of a hiker’s high and a great hike, especially when I took a less-traveled return loop, but I don’t know that I felt anything special. That was sort of my takeaway overall for the vortexes: amazing hikes, so beautiful, and I felt good while there; but I didn’t feel anything moving through me or anything. 

My hike to Cathedral Rock – the pre-6am adventure – was perhaps one of my favorite hikes of all time, with challenging scramble sections, epic sun-drenched views the entire way, and a sense of conquering something. This was the hike that culminated in my memorable meditation. I spent maybe an hour and a half at the top, finding a secret scramble section, making friends with other hikers, and finding a few spots to meditate and journal. It was truly wonderful. In retrospect, perhaps the feminine vortex there was doing some kind of magic on me, or perhaps I let the hike clear out my emotional baggage a little.

I did a longer hike to Boynton Canyon, which had both masculine and feminine vortex energies. The hike was definitely too long for me, and my body and feet were aching bad toward the end, but the adventure was totally worth it. I took some side trails to viewpoints and to a “subway” cave, which involved a scramble that required other people helping me a bit into an echoey and epic photo spot. I loved the adrenaline rush and the sense that I was stronger and less scared than some of the people around me.

I tried to do some non-hiking activities in Sedona, the most touristy of which was the Pink Jeep Tour, which bounced along a trail in a heart-thumping little adventure. Having a family with young kids in the group actually made it a little more fun, I think, but only because they seemed to be enjoying it (and you never know with kids!). Exploring the town was great, especially Tlaquepaque Village with lots of artsy shops and a unique historic vibe.

My last stop of the trip was to the Amitabha Stupa and Peace Park, where I learned a little about Buddhist prayer traditions and felt so moved by the calm feeling of the mountain-set area. I roamed and sat and journaled and felt really good about everything. I sent some of my positive intentions into the world, thinking for the first real time during the trip about world politics and a broader sense of other people, versus the internal journey I had been so deep in since I’d arrived. I wrote in a guest book that I wished everyone’s problems were as trivial as mine, while still acknowledging they are real issues.

As I woke up early for my long drive back to the Tucson airport, I felt ready, like I had gotten what I’d come for. Of course I wasn’t actually emotionally prepared to return to work, but I was ready to leave. And I was barely phased when I got a flight delay notification and had to change my flights home to stop in Phoenix (which I was also driving through on the way back to Tucson). A long travel day back and then the next morning I was back at full force, not happy about it, but not falling apart at every turn. Time will tell the long-term effects of this trip, but for now, I’m feeling stronger and clearer.

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Some old advice I received from an unlikely source (my former elected official boss) has been ringing in my ears lately: no one is going to die if you take a vacation. We aren’t surgeons; no one is literally going to die if we don’t show up to work for a few days. I still believe that policy work is important and will, albeit slowly, make a difference in the world. But breaks aren’t going to break the work, and in fact will only make us stronger.