After our expedition to the snowcapped mountains of Tucson, followed by more general Christmas-frolicking around the city (which included a visit to the famous artist colony of “Tubac,” which Cam described as both creatively intriguing and ghost-town, murder-esque creepy), we drove north to spend a couple of days in Sedona.
Sedona is a luminescent city built in and around the red rocks that make it famous. Not only is Sedona acclaimed for its scenic views, Mars-landscape-evocative hiking trails, and phenomenal shopping, but it is also celebrated for its mystical, life-giving powers. I’m serious. More specifically, Sedona boasts “energy vortexes,” which thus paint the town not only red, but also as a well-established spiritual powerhouse. I personally know very little (read: nothing) about vortexes, and, upon conducting a brief Google search about Sedona vortexes, I stumbled upon this little treasure:
“This energy is the reason Sedona is full of people that are ‘on the path,’ that is, people who have made a commitment to grow and become as much as they can spiritually. It is also the reason that such a large New Age community has sprung up in the Sedona area, bringing with it a variety of spiritual practices and alternative healing modalities, and it is the reason Sedona has sometimes been called a spiritual Disneyland.”
Spiritual Disneyland, eh? While I am a shameless champion of all things Mickey, I have to say, I’m simply not buying it. If Sedona truly were a “spiritual Disneyland[1],” then where is Splash Mountain? Where are the politically correct (question mark?) multicultural robot dolls incessantly pounding “It’s a Small World (After All)” into my subconscious? Where is my FastPass access where I can both demonstrate and flaunt my Disney prowess by gleefully bypassing all of the “noobs” who haven’t planned every second of their vacation in order to maximize full magic potential? Yes, you have “Cathedral Rock” and “Courthouse Rock,” but where is “Cinderella’s Castle Rock?” Clearly this analogy has some serious holes, people.
Anyway, despite the ambiguity and glaring absurdity of this comment, there is something decidedly “other” about Sedona. It is hard to believe that Tucson, only four short hours south, is so topographically different than this majestic, red-rock bejeweled terrain. And, while the closest Cam, Anna, and I ever got to reaping the unparalleled healing benefits of the vortexes was watching an old-hippie (hipster? I get these two cultural identities confused) woman and her dog[2], we were still entranced by our visit to pay homage to the “brick red” rocks[3].
Indeed, we thoroughly enjoyed hiking Bell and Courthouse Rocks and taking in the stunning views in preparation for our Grand Canyon hike. However, it is difficult to ascertain if we deliciously enjoyed this quite as much as roaming the numerous cutesy shops that comprise downtown Sedona and decidedly judging anyone who 1) purchased any variety of stone trinket offered for therapeutic remedy, 2) either contemplated or underwent palm/ taro reading (I don’t know if they are the same thing or not, but I clearly care little enough to pursue deeper inquiry), and 3) probed shop owners about the location and healing nature of the local vortexes.[4]
After a full day of adventuring, we decided to “treat ourselves” to a wine tasting at Javelina Leap Vineyards. Sedona is home to four local vineyards, but, in case it wasn’t obvious, we selected this one simply because of its name. What is a “javelina,” you ask? Think a fat, pig-like creature that functions as the desert version of a raccoon and or possum and generally runs amuck, wreaks havoc, and eats your curb trash if you aren’t careful; however, javelinas are also a pure delight to see plod/trot across the road during dusk and curiously make delightful sugar cookies[5]. We had never been to a wine tasting before, so the three of us were humbled to sip vino and pretend we knew what we were doing amidst the encouraging presence of these charming local socialites.
Notably, we also delighted (perhaps unduly so) in the simple, albeit ordinary pleasures of Sedona’s Safeway and Whole Foods, each of which we managed to visit three times in two days (we have needs), and the Harkin’s movie theatre, where we managed to extend our precarious stay in the world of Panem by watching the second part of Mockingjay after viewing the first half in our hotel room the night before. In case this wasn’t evidenced by the mention of our earlier wine tasting, we are très cultured.
In all, we thoroughly enjoyed our Sedona adventures. Our time amidst the “brick red” and festive “vortex green” Christmas decorations truly gave us the reviving boost and energizing spirit necessary to tackle the Grand Canyon on Thanksgiving Day.
[1] Note: The writers didn’t dub it a spiritual Disneyworld. This clearly indicates a subpar quality, a decided lack of magic if you will. Guess those vortexes truly aren’t that enchanting after all. Rookie mistake.
[2]Upon taking a break from shopping we witnessed a seemingly otherwise normal German Shepard and fifty-year-old woman clad in loose yoga-ready clothing, colorful feathers and a bold streak of white face paint highlighting her nose (standard hippie accouterments?) approach a waterfall (note: a manmade waterfall amidst a shopping center), stare into the depths of its watery soul, pause and close her eyes in deep meditation, reverently bow, and then briskly turn in the direction she had come without so much as an ounce of awareness of her otherwise mortal, earth-bound surroundings. Needless to say, we were similarly transfixed and mesmerized, but I’m not quite sure it can be attributed to the waterfall.
[3] Crayola doesn’t have a crayon color that quite captures the magical essence Sedona exudes. Hippies of the world, cast aside your peace-inspired vibes and revolt. “Brick red” is the closest I could get to mirroring the numerous luminescent red shades found within Sedona’s landscape. If I were a Crayola crayon-namer however (what a job!), I would propose “Red Rock Rad” or “Vermilion Vortex.” I fully expect to be appropriately compensated for my creative efforts.
[4] Confession: We all purchased “Vortex Tea.” How could we not? The package boasts, “each vortex and sacred site has a specific energy signature, the corresponding flower essence and herbal formula were created to enhance the subtle yet welcoming source of wisdom found residing within the landscape. This synergy allows the body to reset it’s (footnote to my footnote: Apparently hippies don’t believe in grammar. Noted.) biological clock, recode old patterns that no longer serve and find new strength in the systems they address. Each vortex has been woven within the tea blend and works with one’s chakra and cellular energy systems.” I have no earthly (or celestial) clue what this means, but I will keep you posed on the results. Currently I feel just about as gassy, bloated, and human as ever…
[5] That is, with the assistance of the proper kitchen cutlery and the baking magic only Mary Lou Puszka possesses that produces sugary treats with healing qualities no vortex should ever hope to surpass.
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