A Walk in the Park: The True Story of a Spectacular Misadventure in the Grand Canyon

by Kevin Fedarko

Among the eleven tribes of the canyon, none surpasses the Navajo in the art of weaving textiles, especially rugs, which are created by the women of the community and considered to be works of art. The layouts of those rugs, by tradition, are conceived by the weaver, carried in her memory, and passed down from mother to daughter. The designs are renowned not only for their beauty and symmetry, but also for a curious hallmark that involves a break in the pattern at the border, which, when viewed from a distance, can easily be mistaken for a loose thread, even though it has been incorporated directly into the fabric. This minor but deliberate flaw is known as a ch’ihónít’i, or “spirit line,” and its purpose has been interpreted in a variety of ways, one of which suggests that it is an expression of restraint. By ensuring that the rug will always remain incomplete—and therefore imperfect—the break stands as an acknowledgment of the need to remain humble, a renunciation of vanity that helps the weaver to maintain a proper sense of balance in the world. Not all rugs have a spirit line, and in those that do, they can sometimes be hard to discern. But if you look carefully, you will see the defect in the line along the edge, a reminder—for those who choose to see it in this manner—that humility, like all desert flowers, needs a bit of watering from time to time.