By Ilchi Lee
I came back to Sedona at the end of a long trip with the monsoon season going strong. I look forward to the rain storms that come in the late afternoon to briefly shake the red earth that’s been heated up all day before moving on. When the rain stops, the earth looks a deeper shade of red, and the sky a more vibrant blue. On a summer day like this, after a simple dinner, I take a walk on a trail close to my house, or every so often, I go to Schnebly Hill to watch the sunset.
Schnebly Hill’s “Merry-Go-Round” is my favorite sunset spot in Sedona. Beneath my feet is a refreshing view of Bear Wallow Canyon, and an incredible sunset feast of color extends through the western sky. Whenever I go to Schnebly Hill to watch the sunset, I stand at the entrance of the trail, gather my hands in front of my chest, and pause for a moment of meditation and prayer. It’s also a kind of ritual that I perform before I enter a vortex. Sometimes, if I’m standing like that, people who are passing by glance at me in askance.
There are probably also people who think of praying in front of a rock or tree as primitive behavior or as idol worship. But because I believe that this connects us with nature in a very beautiful and special way, whenever I have the opportunity, I recommend it to others as well.
When we visit the house of a close friend, we let them know in advance. Even within the same family, you knock before you enter another person’s room. That’s the basic courtesy by which you exercise consideration for others.
Even a small mountain shelters innumerable life forms. Here on Schnebly Hill, in addition to the juniper and oak trees, there are shrubs and wildflowers whose names are largely unknown, mountain creatures, and small insects zinging about. It’s a house where an unfathomable number of lives are living together. In that sense, wouldn’t it be natural for me to ask if it would be okay to enter for a while? For example, I say, “I’d like to ask for your hospitality today and visit your house. May I have your permission?”
Sedona has well-known vortexes like Bell Rock or Cathedral Rock, but based on my experience, you could say that all of Sedona is a vortex. I’d like to suggest that before you enter the vortex that is Sedona, you try and take some time to greet the spirit of the vortex and all of the life forms that live inside of it, if only for a moment. It’s doesn’t have to be a traditional prayer or meditation. It’s enough for you to briefly stop your footsteps, or as you walk, to express in any form your gratitude toward the mountains and valleys of Sedona that embrace you without restraint. If you have respect and gratitude in your heart, Sedona’s mountains and rocks will recognize it all too well. They might even respond to your heart by shaking the branches of a juniper tree with the wind or by coating a red rock with the shadow of a cloud.
In South Korea, where I was born, there are distinct expressions for “going up a mountain” and “going into a mountain.” Going on a hike or for exercise was called “going up the mountain,” but for going to a mountain to find the answer to something, or for a spiritual quest, the expression used was “going into the mountain.” I think for the vortexes in Sedona, the expression “going into” would be an apt expression.
It’s said that the Native Americans who lived here performed a ritual purification to empty themselves of selfish desires when they entered the mountains or canyons of Sedona. Otherwise, they believed, the dark clouds in their minds and hearts would pollute the earth and sky of Sedona.
When you enter a Sedona vortex, you may want to quietly read the following words of Chief Seattle who is famous for his poignant speeches about the relationship between nature and humans, or other earth wisdom that you like:
“Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every meadow, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people. … All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.”
October 17, 2011
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