Today I went vortex-visiting, to two of Sedona’s famous
vortexes (note: not vortices, as my Lonely Planet helpfully informed me. Just
in case I might accidentally be grammatically correct.) I figured I wouldn’t
end up hiking far, and those who know me will know I hate socks and the shoes
that require them… so I just stayed in the flip flops I was wearing for my
after-breakfast nap in the sun. I went to Boynton Canyon and to Airport “Table
Mesa” (uh hello, redundant). I didn’t feel much in the way of electromagnetic
energy – and none of the pull-over-on-the-side-of-the-road awe I’d felt
yesterday on Upper Red Rock Loop Road, where I took pictures of the
cloud-covered rocks and texted J + E, “God exists.” But I did feel peace, and
sunshined serenity, and that’s maybe better than inspiration or magnetic jolts
or whatever it is you’re supposed to feel.
The flip flops though were a little treacherous. “Nice
shoes,” said one of twenty-five middle-aged ladies in Lululemon and hiking
sneakers I passed along the trail. I laughed, embarrassed, said something about
not going far, thought haughtily to myself, “I hiked a mountain in Ethiopia in
flip flops”… and then nearly stepped on a snake, which hissed snakelily as it
slithered under a dry bush. Lesson learned, I thought.
vortex selfie |
Sedona is a strange place, not my “scene,” really. But I’ve
come across all kinds of people, including the taxi man who prepped me on the
town’s history and told me his grandfather was a prominent movie-man, who’d
come to Sedona when it was founded, less than half a century ago. He told me
his grandfather’s name, helpfully, in case I want to look him up. Now I’m
sitting by the fire pit across from a friendly lesbian couple in jeans, sharing
a bag of chips and a mimosa in a water bottle. The chattier one complimented my
suede purple oxfords. :) It smells good here, the air is cold and clean, the food is decent, and there’s
plenty of booze.
For more on Sedona's vortexes, see "John and Micki's Metaphysical Site." This is not a joke.
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