Text and photos by Patricia Grady Cox
September 30, 2015
I took a ride to Sedona yesterday. I have been to Sedona about a million times. Every time someone from back east visits me; many times for hikes (nothing like the West Fork Trail in autumn);, just for the fun of it, and once—in 1988—to attend a Dick Sutphen Psychic Seminar at the Poco Diablo Resort. Back in the 70s and 80s, these seminars were huge. I had attended one in New York City a few years earlier, but that’s another story and not a western one.
This isn’t a commercial or an endorsement. Just saying that seminar was my first visit to Arizona, and it settled a life-long question for me:
which western state do you want to live in? I moved here two years later.
I don’t know how much that seminar had to do with it. I do know that while hiking in Boynton Canyon (one of the famous Sedona energy vortexes) a huge yellow swallowtail butterfly flew down from the sky, landed right on my heart, and sat there for several minutes before fluttering away. Even my skeptical, cynical traveling companion said, “Look, it’s kissing you!”
Many people feel drawn to Sedona. They feel as if they’ve been there before. Maybe they lived a past life. There’s something in the air, in the light, that calls to them. It is truly a beautiful place. It’s not hard to believe you’re feeling some sort of psychic energy; it’s not difficult to imagine the attraction you feel to the place is due to some past life.
Of course, that sense of deja vu might not be of a spiritual origin or springing from a reincarnation experience. It might be because you’ve seen one of the close to fifty movies (most of them westerns) filmed, at least partially, in or near Sedona since back in the 1920s.
But then, you never know . . .