I sit in the desert twilight, swirls of sunset colors wash the air in shades of pink, apricot, and green. It’s that magical moment when day melts into night, and I have a front row seat. I sip a tasty margarita by the pool at the J.W. Marriott Camelback Inn and watch a young family splash in the turquoise water, their ripples making exotic shapes and patterns on the water’s surface, a colorful kaleidoscope undulating before my eyes.

The mother explained moments earlier that she and her young son had flown from Oregon to join her husband for a few days here in Scottsdale following his conference. I smile as they laugh and play in the iridescent pool, their slick shapes growing shadowy as the sun disappears behind Camelback Mountain. Clearly they are finding pleasure in this exact moment.

Seeing them makes me miss my husband and sons and wonder what I’m doing here in the Sonoran Desert all by myself. Part of me can’t wait to fly back home, but the other part wants to linger here in Arizona, where I am learning some important lessons about myself. Nevertheless, tomorrow I will leave this tranquil desert environment and return to the hectic pace of life. What unfinished business am I leaving behind?

Journey of Discovery

Travel is part escape and part discovery. When we leave our home behind, we seek escape. Yet we also hope to learn something: about the place we visit, the people there, and ourselves. I’d visited the Phoenix area once before for a writers’ conference and was charmed by its other-worldliness: the vast barren landscape, rugged mountains, and the sky that goes on forever. That trip only whetted my appetite, so I decided to return and try to find out what it is about the Southwest that tugs at my bones.

This time I planned to head up to Sedona, a place I’d heard about and wanted to see with my own eyes. After driving two hours north from Phoenix, I crested a mountain and found myself face to face with one of the world’s most memorable sights. Jutting up to the heavens, Sedona’s red rock mountains explode in vibrant shades of rust, orange, gold, and brown. This spectacular landscape is the primary reason the city has been voted The # 1 Most Beautiful Place in America.

I found my way to Boynton Canyon, where Enchantment Resort, a world-class destination resort, sprawls among the nooks and crannies of the canyon. Known for its beautiful setting, impeccable service, and award-winning spa, Enchantment is a place where right away you feel at home. And whether you’re there for a spa retreat or a journey of discovery, your inner sense of being will be lifted simply by the beauty of your surroundings. I loved my peaceful casita with a balcony overlooking the towering red mountains.

Enchantment offers a variety of activities, including hikes, cooking demos, yoga, meditation, kids’ events, and Native American programs. I joined a sunset hike one evening to nearby Thunder Mountain. Led by a guide, three women and I followed a trail that ascended slowly to a large table-like rock, where we sat and saluted the setting sun with a toast, thanks to the bottle of wine our guide brought along.

Sedona is known as a spiritual Mecca that attracts a metaphysical population. If you go online and type in spiritual Sedona, you get five million hits, each link promising to help you find the doorway to your soul. Some say it’s the beauty of the red mountains that awakens the spirit and inspires personal journeys toward wellness. I wanted to see if there was something deeper.

Connected to Enlightenment

On a whim I decided to visit a Buddhist stupa in Sedona. A stupa, I learned, is a sacred altar, which, according to the brochure I picked up, is “the physical embodiment of the Buddha’s enlightened mind.” Now I’m not a Buddhist, but I have studied the religion a bit and appreciate the emphasis Buddhists places on self-discovery. The brochure says seeing a stupa “will imbue you with a blessing, will connect you to enlightenment.”

Since I can always use a little enlightenment, I felt compelled to visit. After driving through a tidy neighborhood, I parked my car and followed a path decorated with colorful flags and lined by small white stones. There perched on the side of a mountain was a beautiful adobe structure about two stories high, topped by a pointy gold tower. A bronze statue of a praying Buddha peered out from an alcove about ten feet above the ground, and a few bells rang softly as a breeze rustled through the leaves of small trees and shrubs. I was alone, and I have to tell you: it felt holy there.

The person who had told me about the stupa said I should walk clockwise around the structure ten times. So after admiring the trinkets and gifts people left as offerings to the Buddha, I began walking around the stupa. After my third loop, I looked down at a sign with an arrow and realized I’d been walking around counter clockwise. Yikes. I probably inherited three years of bad karma by going in the wrong direction.

I turned around and started again. After about five loops tears sprang suddenly to my eyes. I waited for a voice to explain the tears, maybe even to share a little wisdom. None came. I kept walking around the stupa, and the tears ended as quickly as they’d appeared. When I returned to my car, a sense of peace enveloped me. Perhaps as the brochure says, I was touched by the “waves of compassion to all living things” that the Buddha radiates.

But there was an undercurrent of confusion. I wanted answers, not more questions. On my last day in Sedona, I would make significant progress in my journey of self-discovery.

I awoke that day feeling different. It might have had something to do with the treatment I’d had the night before at Mii amo, Enchantment’s destination spa. Called Shirodhara, the treatment began with a facial followed by the pouring of oil on my forehead, a process that stimulates the pituitary gland and relaxes the nervous system. I had seen pictures of this treatment many times and knew it would be an amazing experience.

It was indescribable. Warm oil poured on your forehead sounds very odd, but something comforting seems to occur and you feel suspended in a strange in-between place, like the River Lethe in Dante’s Inferno. You forget everything and remember everything. You’re dreaming, but you’re awake. At the end I felt tired, but all my senses were sharpened.

Circle of Energy

After checking out the next morning, I met Johanna, who owns a business called Sedona Spirit Yoga and Hiking. Together we would visit a few vortex sites, hike, and do yoga. What I liked about Johanna was her non-nonsense approach to the vortices.

“The vortex is the circle of your energy connecting with the mystical red rock energy,” she explained. In other words, the energy was all around Sedona, not just in a few places. The hard part for some people is accessing it, she said. “You have to practice the 4 Rs: relax, release, receive, and renew.”

Johanna led me to the Airport Mesa vortex, where we sat down on yoga mats and faced an incredible view. In the distance we could see Bell Rock Vortex and Cathedral Rock Vortex. “The three combined to form what I call a tri-vortex experience,” she said. I felt like I was on top of the world.

We began to meditate. Johanna instructed me to breathe in and then let go of my busy “monkey mind,” the thoughts that swarm around your brain nonstop. I tried to quell my thoughts and admitted it was hard. “Meditating isn’t about achieving a totally clear mind,” she said. “You just want to make it a little clearer than it was.”

Next she told me to breathe in and then let go of my emotions. Suddenly tears began to stream from my eyes. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let go of my emotions. This is why I came to Sedona, I realized. I told Johanna about the grief and sadness I’ve carried inside ever since my daughter, Sierra, died decades ago.

Johanna listened, and together we prayed and meditated. Although I didn’t hear any loud voices revealing shiny truths, somehow I felt I’d reached a new understanding. The reason I’m holding on to the sadness of losing my daughter is because it’s the only tangible thing I have left.

Jesus went into the desert and found what he was looking for. I did, too. There’s something about the starkness of that environment, the rough edges, that makes it easy to get in touch with your deepest feelings and to face them once and for all.