Because Sedona is commonly referred to as a very special and unique place, I’m tempted to grow all kinds of expectations around being here. Hopes for what I might see, feel and experience.
Being a spiritually curious person, I might even be tempted to hope for a life-changing revelation or an out-of-body experience. Maybe I’m secretly hoping to see the face of God here, something so powerful I will never again doubt my place as a beloved child of the universe.
Even while trying not to drown in expectations (by not doing a lot of research and pre-planning activities) I can admit that, in the very least, I’ve probably been sprinkled by them. Media is no help.
Last night I got thinking about hiring a psychic, or going on a half day excursion to visit the places known as vortexes, thinking maybe I would increase the odds of having such an experience. I’ve come all this way, I should invest a bit in this experience. That was my thinking.
I even spent a bit of time researching people who offer such services. The more I researched, the more attached I got to this idea of having a special experience. The more I anticipated, the more anxious I got. The more anxious I got, the more I researched. Now I was reading reviews of everyone else’s experiences.
After an hour or so, I realized the sun was setting and here I was, smack in the middle of a beautiful high desert, otherworldly rock formations shifting all around me with the changing light, and I’m on the internet, anxious I might miss something!
Well, that called for a bit of a review. And a sunset contemplate-wander.
When Pippa and I returned from our walk, I read a daily meditation and did a short session myself. Just sitting in the van. My eyes closed, belly breathing. Consciously encouraging each part of my body to release; to let go the stress of craving.
Craving isn’t always about addiction. Craving is just a state of wanting, that is uncomfortable in the body and mind. It is an unhealthy attachment to something, including an experience or a feeling.
At the end of the meditation, I asked whoever might happen to be listening to help me let go of what I thought I wanted this experience in Sedona to be, and just allow myself to experience what it was going to be.
I fell asleep under a huge desert moon and proceeded to have a powerful dream just before I woke this morning. The sort of dream that demands I pay attention. The sort of dream maybe one might have in the desert, in Sedona, under a huge moon.
I was in a school I didn’t recognize. I was struggling to keep my eyes open, which were gummy and sticky. I was stumbling about, trying to find someone to help me. A secretary asked me what was wrong with me, in an irritated fashion. There are other kids around, making noise. Another adult woman arrived and they spoke about me as if I weren’t there. “Yes” the one said, miffed, “She was in here a while a go complaining.”
I am in an upstairs room in a house I do not recognize. I am still struggling to keep my eyes open, because they are sticky shut and my vision is blurry. I want to go downstairs, but can’t walk right. I keep veering to the left. I’m getting very scared and when I hit the wall to my left begin banging as hard as I can on it with my limp arm, trying to alert someone. Even though I am using all my strength to hit the wall so hard, the sound is too quiet and muffled. I try to call out for helpbut only puffs of air come out of my mouth.
I crawl to the stairs and go down on my bum. I reach a room, and a day bed, with three rails around it.
A man is in the room but unaware something is wrong. I try to tell him I’m scared but words won’t come out loudly enough. He is busy hanging curtains that have pink stripes on them. I don’t like the colour or the stripes – I think they are gaudy, but I silently watch him hang them and am surprised how they blend nicely into the wall. In fact, they almost invisible. He also hangs a set that fall around the day bed, that can be closed for privacy. They are left open but I am surprised that I really like them. I feel fascinated by how beautiful they look against the colour of the wall.
I get up the courage to try to whisper that something is really wrong with me and this time he leaves the room and brings back a paper with information about a doctor appointment he made with his doctor, for me. I wanted him to take me to the emergency room and I feel more scared.
I start to cry because I’m sure I’m going to die soon without help. Then he sits next to me on the daybed and opens his arms as if I were a toddler who could crawl up into his lap. “Climb on up in here now” he says. I clumsily bump up against him, like a fish out of water, because my body is partially paralyzed. I do my best to get as close as possible, and I feel his arms around me. He says “This makes me feel better.” He says. He feels better.
I do not. The feeling of hope, which had been there momentarily when he put his arms around me, falls away.
I wake up sobbing in the van. The sun is already well up into the sky and I look out into the morning. Immediately, I see a beautiful, large coyote a mere 30 feet or so away, looking right at the van. His coat shimmers in the morning sunlight, so that it looks like he has an aura. Pippa sees me, seeing him, who is seeing me – and begins to bark like a she-wolf. The coyote runs into the brush.
I get up and go about my morning. Coffee, breakfast. A walk with Pippa. I realize I’m feeling very light and although the dream was upsetting, I am no longer upset. I notice my energy. I am energized. When I get back to the van, I get a shock from the door handle that almost makes me jump out of my shoes.
I decide I don’t need to hire anyone to curate my Sedona experience at all. Sedona appears to have that covered just fine. Whatever this experience is, it is going to be uniquely mine.
Despite my change of heart, I might still see if I can pay to see a UFO. I’m sort of a bit over-attached to that one! Because, you know, they’re out there.