The Airport Vortex is where the energy affected me the strongest on my recent trip to Sedona.
Everything started off as planned. I was thrilled that the hike sloped downward and the steps weren’t too difficult. I felt waves of gratitude that I wouldn’t have to climb up them. This was a loop route. Long, but a loop.
One of the rules established from day one of hiking was that breaks were good. We took breaks often to recover and press on. One of these breaks was at a spot overlooking Sedona and the rocks as far as the eye could see. I noticed it looked like people sat above us on a rock formation to our right. I wondered if that could be the vortex and strolled over to read some signage before the climb. I didn’t see anything about the vortex.
I was hit by sudden dizziness. Out of the blue. It only lasted for a moment, yet it shook my confidence. Was this the energy effect again? Why did I seem to experience these unsettling feelings rather than the euphoric tingling and wellness others had described? Hmmph. Seemed typical for me. I sat down at the overlook and nonchalantly got out my Gatorade.
Karil was ready to move on. We’ve been friends since 4th grade. I was not quite recovered and had to tell her I felt momentarily dizzy. I wondered if it was energetic. We chatted a bit with other hikers and learned the summit to the vortex was where we thought it might be. I was sure I could make it.
Off we went.
It was a short, steep climb. Ropes were secured to the sides to define a safe route. They came in handy to hold as you climbed. The last twenty feet or so consisted of one of those one way fairly narrow ascents. I announced I was lying down when I got to the top.
And so I did.
There I stayed. Opening my heart to the energy. Recharging my soul.
I recited my affirmations and prayed. My heart rate lowered 25-30 points. It felt good. No big whoosh of energy. I felt perfectly healthy on the summit. Fully alive.
Alas, all good things must come to an end. We decided we were ready to head back to the car which meant we had to climb up those rock steps I earlier had been so erroneously grateful to not have to climb up. Two breaks were taken quickly. Because of me. On the second one, I desperately looked for someplace to sit. I felt nauseous. I was on the edge of spontaneously sobbing. Energy worked viciously through me. Out with the bad, in with the good.
Backtrack to earlier in the week. Karil had shared a decision she may make where she was worried how she might be affected by someone’s reaction.
Backtrack farther. My fitness coach has often asked me a simple question when things get too hard for me. She asks, “So what?” So what if I can’t run like I want? So what if I can’t lift as much as I have before? So what if I’m not exactly where I want to be? The question all comes down to the narrative I tell myself (I’ve failed. I’m not good enough. I’m a wimp.) versus what it really means (I’m dealing with effects from cancer treatments. It isn’t a defining event. I can do many other things.).
I gave Karil a “So what?” scenario for her situation earlier in the week. It stayed on her mind.
She chose this moment to throw the question back to me.
So what if I couldn’t make it back to the car?
I could go back down to the bottom of the trail where there were a couple of prized parking spots off the road. She’d finish the climb and pick me up on her way down the road.
Ugh. I wanted to make it up the trail. It’s what I planned to do. Goals are to be met. Nothing else is acceptable. I’m a wimp if I can’t do it. That’s the narrative that ran through my mind. What did it really mean? Nothing. Completing the path up was not mandatory. I had another choice.
I told her I would take her offer.
Down I went. In minutes I was sitting in the shade depleting all my fluids I brought with me. Hydrating was a major priority on this vacation. I couldn’t get enough to drink for the rest of the day.
Part of me still wanted to make it back to the car. As close to losing it as I was, I recognized this was a teaching opportunity where I could lead by example. The teacher in me continues to live. It was also an excellent opportunity for me to practice what I preach.
Obviously, I need to be more careful what I preach.
Some people apparently listen.
For about two hours after this, my left eye burned, and my left nostril couldn’t stop dripping. My left side just felt watery. I took two recovery naps that afternoon. And I kept hydrating. Then all was well again. It was a strange reaction that I can’t attribute to anything. Oddly, it was my right side that felt a pulling a few days earlier on the Boynton Canyon hike.
Lessons from the Airport Vortex affirmed the following:
- I’m not in as good as shape as I wanted, but I still showed up. I will always do my best to show up.
- Although I didn’t take a poll at the vortex, the chances are pretty darn good I was the only one climbing that day with active cancer. That isn’t a small feat. It takes determination, a strong stubborn disposition, and stupidity. Forget that last thing. I’m proud of what I accomplish.
- The narrative I tell myself and what is really true is a work in progress for me.
- Energy doesn’t have to be understood to have an effect.
- I am infinitesimally small compared to the vast grandeur around me, but I am connected to that grandeur. We all are.
Epic vacations don’t come along often. The location, the scenery, and the hiking made this vacation unlike any other I’ve taken. It may sound like it was a lot of physical exertion. I would call it an active vacation. Nature is where I feel happy. It was in the 90s most afternoons. We hiked early in the morning. It still got warm, but Arizona’s dry heat feels cooler than Wisconsin’s humidity. Experiencing all of this with metastatic breast cancer makes it all the more special for me. Life is good.