On a recent trip to Sedona, Arizona, I may have had a vortex experience. Or two.  Or none. Can’t tell for sure. There’s no real definition of a vortex: according to one source, a vortex is a “swirling center of subtle energy coming out from the surface of the earth….not exactly electricity or magnetism.” Four places in Sedona are identified as vortexes, located on red rock formations which happen to be beautiful spots to view and to hike. These may have been sacred places to the Indians who inhabited the area well before the cowboys and the artists. In 1987, the vortex phenomenon was given a boost when 5,000 people gathered in Sedona for a “Harmonic Convergence”, summoning a New (and Better) Age.  Whether or not their efforts helped the planet is hard to say, but they left a legacy of spiritual seeking at the vortexes.   

 So, there I was last week on Airport Mesa, one of the vortexes, having clambered like a mountain goat to get to the very top. My friend Mary Jane stopped mid-way up the trail, due to a slight light-headedness. The afternoon sun was warm with an occasional breeze and a few cotton clouds in the sky.  As I surveyed the 360’ view, the sun was blocked by a cloud and the wind picked up considerably from all directions, so that I grabbed hold of my hat and at one point, crouched low so as not to be knocked over the side, or, alternatively, sucked up into the sky - at least in my imagination.  There was definitely wind energy, and it was swirling. It was a bit frightening until the sun returned and a young boy popped up off the trail, a woman shouting from below, “I told you to wait.” It was a moment, but was it a vortex?

 I think rather it was at Bell Rock that something happened. Mary Jane and I started an early hike on a beautiful morning, the day after a rainstorm. Everything was green and glistening, the end of the wildflower season and cacti coming into bloom. It was so early, there were no other hikers at the trailhead, but one. We read on the sign that the trail was about 4-5 miles around and marked by “cairns”, small, cylindrical cages of rocks, but we had no map to take with us. The quails were calling, and we were eager to get moving, but there was that moment of hesitation — the trail bordered a wilderness area, and we didn’t want to get lost forever.

 The other hiker stood close enough to hear us, a big guy – maybe 6’4”, 300 lbs. wearing dark goggles, carrying water and a hefty walking stick, and covered head to toe from the sun, except a small gap between his gloves and sleeves where impressive tattoos peeked out. He asked if we needed help, and we asked a few questions before he offered to guide us on the trail – he was “going that way, had been around many times, and would enjoy the company.” I deferred to Mary Jane, the more cautious one, certain that she would decline. To my shock, she said, “Thanks, that would be great.” We fell into step and I figured we were either in for a beautiful, scenic hike or else a double murder. For a while I was vigilant, keeping a careful distance, but then I gave up. It was irrelevant. I caught up to the mountain man, eager to converse, even as I recalled the Indian saying, “Today is a good day to die.” – Really, it couldn’t have been prettier, although I might have had some ‘splaining to do to my family in the afterlife.

 It must have been the vortex. We seemed carried away beyond our own will and worries on the most glorious morning with a gifted guide, Mike, who shared his knowledge and love of the area.  We were beyond the beyond, meeting only one other hiker, ourselves part of the landscape Carefree, comfortable, inspired and at peace. Blessed.  In the vortex —maybe.