Thursday, February 20, 2020

Getting into the Vortex



This week, I drove from Scottsdale to Sedona to experience the energy vortices those red rocks are known for. I left in the dark and had an easy drive in countryside very different from Minnesota in February. 

I found a parking spot at the first available trailhead, laced up my boots and started out on a dusty, wide trail.  I wound around Bell Rock and up an incline until I was away from other hikers, took off my backpack,  sat down on the warm rocks, and spent a few minutes soaking up the beauty, creating memories for the cold, grey days ahead.

When I was ready to leave, I did. And on my way, I called to two people I know; one of my dearest friends from Minneapolis whom I don’t see often enough and her husband were walking the trail.  She was astonished, I not so much. She had crossed my mind on the drive up. She was in my vortex.

The parking lot attendant at the next trail told me to pay attention to the energy, for this too was a vortex. I gathered my walking sticks, which haven’t been used since Spain, and took off eager for a magical encounter. 

I did not experience any surges of energy, had no animal messengers appear, and at one point realized that on every long hike, there’s a moment I wish it were over but I have to keep going to get home. Hiking shows me I can do hard things.

I’m not an energy worker, healer, or shaman. I may never “feel” a vortex or be sensitive to other planes of consciousness, and yet, from time to time, when I heed my body’s need for rest or movement, when I listen to someone tell me which trail they enjoyed and I take it because it’s right here, then I experience the synchronicity that suggests there’s nothing random going on.

I have a teacher who says get into the vortex and then act. I make time each day for stillness and beauty, I pause and ask “what next?”, without knowing who or what may answer, and sometimes I allow for emptiness rather than shop, eat, distract, or worry.  

Call that what you will, a vortex, home base, serenity or love. From that place I can be useful, seek the best in others, smile at strangers, and stay open to surprise.