In my last blog, I wrote about my first night at Sacred Rocks Sedona, a "Metaphysical B&B" owned by an Ojibwa Indian healer named Meaghan and her husband, Rick. That first night featured a crystal bowl healing ceremony, conducted by Meaghan. Although I was unfamiliar with the nature of such a ceremony, I accepted the invitation to take part. Given the circumstances surrounding my arrival at Sacred Rocks, I found myself fairly open to any and every thing that might happen there. Hence, I did not speak much during my stay, but rather, watched, listened, and breathed.
Sacred Rocks Sedona: The First of Three Strange Days In the Desert
Last time I discussed my westward trip, and how I arrived under strangely synchronous circumstances at a “metaphysical B&B” located on a beautiful horse farm in Sedona, AZ. My westward wandering had led me to a peaceful place, where I would stay for three nights in a beautiful trailer. The proprietors, Rick and Meaghan, owned the property – formerly a Buddhist retreat center – and Meaghan conducted healing ceremonies there. Sacred Rocks was a popular destination, Rick explained to me as we stood in the trailer’s kitchen. It was not the type of place one could just show up at, yet, that is exactly what I had done.
The Rarefied Art Of Getting Where You Need To Be By Not Trying
I am a big fan of travelling by motor vehicle and have always loved a good road trip. Admittedly, those long miles in the backseat were trying as a child, gazing out the window as the miles fell away. But I grew to love the road, whether travelling solo or with friends. Perhaps road trips appeal to my polar nature, as they are a near perfect mix of doing and not doing: travelling farther from home in one day than some do in a lifetime, all while sitting still, drinking truck stop coffee, and listening to music. Now that is a cool way to get somewhere.
Living In a World That Seems Dead Set On Feeding the Wrong Wolf
You may already be familiar with the parable of the two wolves (a story typically attributed to the Cherokee nation), but in case you you're not, I will summarize it briefly:
In the parable of the two wolves, a grandfather is talking with his grandson and tells him that each of us have two wolves inside of us that are at war: one wolf is good, representing love; the other is bad, representing fear. Upon consideration the child asks, “Grandfather, which wolf wins?” To which the wise old man replies, “The one you feed.”
How I Moved From Insight to In-sight In Mighty Strange Fashion
Last time I discussed my somewhat unlikely entrance into yogic practice as well as my injured right shoulder and how it has been a perennial weak link for me, especially so in the past couple of years. Physical therapy did not help the situation - at least not quickly enough - and once my insurance company pulled the plug on further visits, I found myself left to my own devices. I remember that last day of therapy and how there seemed to be an elephant in the room: saying my farewells to the staff when everyone knew I was still in a lot of pain. Yet, that was somehow beside the point and we all knew it. I suppose we have come to collectively accept how business is done in the modern age … that’s just life, right?