Boynton Canyon Vortex

When planning for my Arizona vacation, I was particularly drawn to the town of Sedona, an apparent New Age mecca famous for its energy vortexes. It sounded pretty commercial, which is a bit off-putting, but I figured it would be fun anyway, and I planned to spend 2 nights there.

I regretted this choice within minutes of arriving in the town, as the commerical aspects outweighed any spiritual pursuits to a frightening degree. I won't bore you with the details, but let's just say that we spent as little time as possible in the town itself. Luckily for us, this wasn't difficult -- my husband and I are both convinced that this must be the most beautiful part of Arizona. The red rock formations that surround the town are absolutely breathtaking, and we were perfectly happy to spend our time exploring them.

Still, I wanted to experience a vortex for myself. I no longer had any interest in going on a vortex tour, so I did a bit of research in my guidebook, and found one that I could incorporate into a hike. Thus, we departed for the Boynton Canyon vortex.

After a truly wonderful hike, and the smallest bit of confusion, I climbed up to the vortex, which is marked by the tiny piles of stones in this picture. There are more surrounding the spire of rock on all of the accessible sides. There weren't very many other people there, so I was able to meditate and try to connect to the energy of the vortex. I definitely felt some sort of energy, a tingling that started in my hands and feet, and then spread to my whole body. I sensed energy spiraling around me, and felt as if my body was turning in the opposite direction.... very strange. And at one point I swear I saw a turtle swim towards me and wink (in my mind's eye, not physically!). I'm not sure what any of that meant, but it was certainly interesting, and something which I will be revisiting in future meditation and spiritual journeying.

Lunar Eclipse 2008

I know I haven't written about my trip yet (and there will be at least one picture, I promise!), but I want to get to the eclipse before everyone forgets that it ever happened.

I'd never seen a full lunar eclipse before, so I had no idea what to expect, either spiritually or visually. As it turns out, the energy of this eclipse was just what I needed to reinforce some changes that I've been needing to make. I've known for some time now that too much of my life is lived out of fear. I was constrained by it on all sides, and it kept me locked in a tiny box, where I was miserable and frustrated. I hated it. It's not that I was afraid of any particular fate -- I was just afraid to live. Afraid that if I stopped being afraid, I'd be ambushed by... something.

That's no way to live, and I used last night's energy to put it behind me (though I did originally type that paragraph in the present tense -- I'm still learning!). During the ritual/spellwork that I performed before my trip, I realized that I need to reach out towards that which I love, and I am reaffirming that now. I have to ask myself in every situation "What would love have me do?," by which I mean "Where does my heart point? Where would my bliss lead me?" It's a difficult transition, but I want to be committed this time. Gods help me, but I need to do this.

* * * * *

My ritual was very simple, requiring only my cauldron, a match, paper, and pencils (if you've been a practicing pagan for more than six months, you can probably guess where this is going). I sat on my enclosed front porch and gazed up at the sky as the moon slowly shrank away, and I contemplated the earth standing between sun and moon, blocking the light's radiance from illuminating that silvery orb. I descended into a light trance, and met with the figure of the earth, who spoke to me in an Irish accent. She told me that she was darkening the moon to allow us to gaze upon her more fully, and that I was cast off that which was blocking me from fully dancing with life. I saw that my fear was the problem, and came out of the trance enough to write that down on the paper, with heavy intent. I lit the cauldron, and threw my fear into it. I felt so light and free, watching it burn away! I created a talisman to enforce the changes I need to bring into my life - the way I need to throw myself into that which I love, and let it infuse me.


* * * * *

Oh, and visually? The moon was beautiful. Watching as the light shrank to a tiny slivery, illuminating a perfect sphere of smokey quartz, fading to rose.... it was a powerful experience, one which I hope not to forget any time soon.

I have returned

I got back from Arizona Friday night. It was wonderful, a truly delightful experience. I don't think I actually feel any clearer about my life now than I did when I left, but that might be because I always have trouble readjusting after a vacation, and I am not looking forward to returning to work tomorrow. Plus, I haven't managed to do *anything* at my altar since getting home.

If I'm lucky, I'll manage to distill some of my observations and realization from the trip into coherent posts at some point.

Imbolc Poetry Reading 2008

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, wen woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

-William Henry Davies, Leisure

Posted in honor of the Imbolc Poetry Reading 2008. It seems appropriate to my life right now. :-)

Bless Imbolc!