Downtown Sedona

'The Spirit of the West' Downtown Sedona.

"It's ruined; nothing but a tourist trap," said some people. "It's fabulous," said others. Downtown Sedona is simultaneously neither and both. Oddly enough, there is even one shop where you could buy groceries, vegetables and fruit although they are rather exclusive groceries, vegetables and fruit.

It's full of shops selling Indian jewellery, teeshirts and sweatshirts, artisan clothing, New Age shops, art galleries, hats, bags, leather goods and restaurants. Nothing is cheap; some of it is tacky; some of it is fabulous. That's exactly how it is in every American 'tourist town' I've ever visited.

But Sedona is different. There are no lights above street level at night to guard against light pollution so if you go for a walk in town in the evening you need a torch; every other building seems to offer healing of some kind; McDonalds had to paint their famous arch green as the yellow one wasn't allowed and there's no Wal-Mart. You can view all of that as lovely or pretentious; it's up to you. There is, of course, light pollution from all the cars driving through but it is reduced.

In layout, downtown Sedona is a typical American Main Street, laid out in one straight line, with some shopping arcades either side and, apart from said groceries shop, pretty much nothing sensible to buy. But hey, who wants to buy sensible in Sedona?

Downtown Sedona is an experience. It's best on a lovely sunny day, of course, but our first visit was in pouring rain during November and it still kept our attention. That first day, there was nothing to see bu the shops and the puddles on the sidewalk but, on your-average-Arizona day you can gaze at the wonderful red rock formations while pottering round the shops which makes it a spectacular event just being there. In that way it's similar to our home on Dartmoor where you only have to look over the gate to have your breath taken away, although I have to admit that, at home, we don't sell Indian jewellery or have a Wild West Movies museum… Perhaps we should.

There's a load of free parking just off the main street (head to the right from the 'Y') and it's on the right at the end of the shopping part of Main Street. If you don't know what the 'Y' is, no worries; you'll soon find out if you come to Sedona. Or, you can stop off while take the trolley bus around town. It's fairly cute (on fine days) and goes to several 'scenic view' spots as well though it's not cheap at at $18 a head.

However, we'd got a kick-ass Dodge Challenger so my petrol-head husband wanted to drive everywhere and I didn't fancy pottering around and waiting for the bus to come round again to pick us up.

So, what's on the street that's interesting? There's the fudge shop… They pummel the fudge to death — sorry make it —in front of your eyes and it is utterly forbidden-fruit irresistible, delicious and indulgent (you don't actually believe that Eve was tempted by a piece of fruit, do you? She was a woman for God's sake! It had to be, at very least, a fudge tree).

Okay, the fudge doesn't look very thrilling just like that but the folks were folding it over like flaky pastry and, trust me, the end result was gorgeous.

I wanted to do an interview with Tudy [sic] the owner of Sedona Fudge Company not only because it's fabulous fudge but because its origin was a glorious mistake and I like stories like that. But Tudy was out on the first day we went in and in hospital (not for anything serious, I'm glad to say) when we went back so that didn't happen.

It all began back in 1887 when a chocolate-maker started his own business in Michigan and made a chocolate fondue which went horribly wrong … and turned into fudge with a really creamy texture that everyone went crazy about. I do that kind of cooking all the time but I've yet to make a business out of it so big kudos to him! It's all natural ingredients without preservatives and they include a diabetic chocolate as well sweetened with a natural plant product that begins with M but I've forgotten it and can't find it on Google (if you know its name, do tell me in the comments and I'll edit this - thanks).

What else? Ah, yes, returning to the beautiful original picture of 'the Spirit of the West', Sedona is filled with just glorious bronze statues, mostly of horses. You just want to climb up onto 'the Spirit of the West' and urge him into a gallop. And there's the lovely pony with a puppy trotting at its feet as well… This used to be in a separate shopping area called Tlaquepaque but is now in the main stretch, inside a small mall.

Not to mention the dancing couple that are on a wheel and swing round and round if you push them...

Probably the only really disappointing shop/place was Sedona Motion Picture Museum which has dozens of black and white photos of all the movies that have beens shot in the area (and there were a lot). However, it is only one room and the staff were grumpy and unhelpful on that particular day. One of them half-heartedly tried to offer us a horse-ride at a very cheap price in return for our seeing a time-share presentation. As we'd already been round that loop (of which, more later) we weren't interested.

It is a lovely town centre. Even Lion, who doesn't enjoy shopping, was happy to go around it twice. And if it is a tourist trap, so what? These tourists enjoyed it.

Sedona 2015. No. 2. Horsin' Around on the Trail Ride

Riding Lady and John Wayne on the trail

The first thing I want to do every time I go to the States is go riding. There's something really special about riding Western-style that suits me. When I lived in Montana I had a friend who let me exercise his quarter horses anytime I wanted… Ah, bliss.

I've ridden regularly since I was nine years old so, when we headed for Sedona, I wanted to go riding but I didn't want just to trail along nose-to-tail on a bored horse with more than a dozen other people who'd rarely ridden before.

Here, I'd better specify for American readers that I'm referring to what you call 'horse-back riding.' Just 'riding' doesn't cut it over there and for some reason, even with the 'horse' bit added, you guys want to know which part of the horse you need to get onto. But I digress.

I went onto Trip Advisor's Sedona section and asked if anyone knew of anywhere which could help and got a bit of a flea in my ear from one contributor who wanted to know what was wrong with a nose-to-tail ride. Nothing; it just wasn't what I wanted.

The simple answer was 'no' because of all the insurance issues. I once read that riding a horse was statistically more dangerous than riding a motorbike and having fallen off more than seven times — the old statutory 'this is what makes you a horsewoman' amount — I rather concur. But I'm still addicted.

Riding Spuds the Quarter Horse in Montana in 1999.

The next step was to ask around on social media if anyone knew of someone with a horse in Sedona. I thought I'd hit gold almost at once with an offer to take me riding from a lady who worked at a stables who said it would be great to have someone to ride with for fun. But she didn't follow through. So, once we were there, I was looking to find a good ride.

…Which fell into my lap. 

I'll be writing more later on how we got to Sedona and where we were staying but, suffice it to say for the moment, we were staying in a friend's timeshare and, of course, the company running it was anxious to get fresh blood round the table for the big sell. They asked what Lion and I were interested in, we said 'horse riding' and they offered us a ride at a local stables for $73 total as opposed to $95 each if we would turn up for the presentation.

And that's a whole story in itself…

However, we said yes and were booked on a ride with Horsin' Around Adventures at Oak Creek, just down the road, the following Monday. Now I've looked through their website I know I'd have chosen them for myself, particularly for the aspect they offer of Premium Rides which are tailored for the rider's experience. So much for there not being any non nose-to-tail riding, Trip Advisor folk!

However, we were on a simple trail ride together as Lion's not anything like as experienced as I am and I thought it would be a good start as well as a great experience to ride together.

Luckily for us, after a few days of cold and wet, the Monday dawned brightly and we showed up at the Javelina Leap vineyard in Page Spring wine country, Oak Creek, about three miles from our apartment, to be picked up in a van and taken up the dust track to where the horses waited. It's not a very prepossessing area where they are; brown dirt corrals with horses already saddled and waiting. Obviously they don't live there but are brought along according to who has booked.

There were six of us on this ride and Lion was the only man. We were asked our level of experience and allotted a suitable horse. I got Lady, a palomino paint, about 15 hands tall which is a perfect size for me and who was said to be Troy, our driver's favourite of the horses and Lion, who's not anything like as experienced as I am, was given a big gentle bay, John Wayne.

Our guide for the one-and-a-half-hour ride was Clarissa and she made a point of saying that it was fine to hold back and trot at the back of the ride if any of us wanted to. Oh hooray! I double-checked with her about doing it repeatedly and she said, 'Absolutely. We like riders to do that; it keeps the horses interested.'

Isn't it odd how your body has memories? It's fifteen years since I rode Western-style (good grief! Really?) but the second I swung my leg across Lady's back and settled my feet in the stirrups, I got Western-saddle-left-leg-syndrome. I'd completely forgotten that I used to get that! However, a firm but friendly talking-to the left leg, pointing out that I am two stone lighter and a lot fitter now and there was no need for that and, happily, it agreed and gave up the memory.

No one else wanted to hold back so I slipped to the back fairly early on. Lady strenuously objected to standing still and waiting when I first suggested it to her. But once she'd realised that I meant what I was telling her and that I knew how to ride her she submitted willingly enough. And when she realised what I was up to, she decided this was a great idea and was even willing to walk away from the others to get a longer run-up for some good canters. So it was a great ride for me; just perfect for getting back into the Western saddle. And it was a great ride for the others too, happy to get to know their horses and potter along at a walk. Win-win.

The trail wasn't beautiful by Sedona standards. It was out of the area where there red rocks rise and we didn't take a long enough ride to go down to Oak Creek itself. But it was November and the countryside was fairly bleak (although the rains were beginning to bring the desert into a rather reluctant bloom). You can see from the picture at the top what the terrain was like and, on our particular day, there wasn't any wildlife to be seen. But it was still great fun.

I intended to go back, for a longer ride all on my own but events overtook us and there was so much else to do that it didn't happen. But I'd go back there like a shot. Yes please.

Making Peace With What Is.

This is a story from way back in 2008 but reading a posting from a friend on Facebook reminded me of it — and it was just what I needed to remember today.

Sometimes we can’t change the outer circumstances of our life as quickly as we would like. But as what we think, what we feel and what we receive are always a perfect match then it’s really important to make peace with the now that we have created up to this moment.

To do that, all we really have to do is acknowledge that we created the situation. And by making peace with it in that way, we can at least ensure that we won’t create it again. Remember, in the physical world there is a time-lapse between what we create and what manifests. It can take seconds for a physical change to occur or it can take months. A small fishing boat can change direction in few metres or so but an ocean liner takes 20 miles.

Making peace does not mean going into denial as in 'it's fine...I'm fine...' when you're not - and it's not about gritting your teeth and enduring because it's 'good' or 'worthy' to do so - it's about seeking for the better thought in a difficult situation and building blocks to happier thoughts in order to reclaim your power.

One of my favourite phrases at a challenging time is Catherine Ponder’s ‘I can hardly wait to see the good that comes from this!’ Once you can say that, then you’re on your way to something better.

This story is from a trip that Lion and I took to Montana and although it was six years ago, that amazing holiday is still warm in my heart. And there was a lovely example of making peace with the now within it.

Our friends, Ris and Joe run an impressive Leadership Coaching company. They use horses to help people realise how they relate to others at work and play and during our visit they wanted to give both Lion and me a session with the horses in the Round.

What you do is to wander among their seven very different horses and pick one that you want to work with through your intuition. You’ll always pick the right one. Then you and that horse go into the Round (a circular corral) and either Ris or Joe teaches you how that horse and you are just the same and how to gain each other’s trust.

I was really keen to do this as I’ve always loved horses and ridden since I was nine. Lion wasn’t so keen because he’s a bit wary of big animals but he was up for giving it a go.

The first bit of making peace with now was when Ris and Joe simply had too much work to do to be able to take time out to work with the horses and us during our stay. For a day or so I allowed that to unsettle me a bit – you know the kind of thing; hanging around in case instead of just going out and doing something else that I wanted to do and trusting that all would be well.

But once I’d come to terms that it might not happen at all and if it didn’t, that was okay, and I’d had a lot of fun walking in the horses’ huge field with them and grooming several of them, then I was absolutely at peace with it.

Then, of course, Ris found the time...

It was early evening and I’d just led a workshop at the local Unity Church so I wanted a little time to gather my thoughts so Lion went first. I just wandered among the horses in the outside paddock at the same time as him and was quite sure that, when my time came, I wanted to work with Billy, a young red-roan appaloosa mustang who was broken to the saddle but very shy.

Lion went into the Round and time passed as he and Walker, his horse, began to get to know each other. It was Montana in late October and evening and it started getting seriously cold.

Time went on and it became very clear to me that the sun was about to set and time would run out for me to have my turn. And we were leaving the next day. So, frozen to the bone, I started working on making peace with that.

Oh God it was cold! But I didn’t want to go inside because I was fascinated by what Lion and Walker and Ris were doing. And I was so pleased to see Lion working with a horse and I knew that if I walked away he would be likely to stop the session or at least interrupt it. I love horses and can hang around them whenever I want to – I used to have my own horse a while back and I did some learnt-from-a-book horse whispering with her (to very limited effect I must admit!). And I was just so thrilled to see Lion losing his fear of horses and realising that both he and Walker were getting into an incredible accord.

So I made peace with the situation and watched Lion and Walker and the amazing, totally glorious orange and crimson sunset across the mountains of the sacred Bozeman valley and I realised how utterly, utterly lucky I am.

But I was still awfully cold! So I sent up a swift prayer to be able to endure out there until Lion had finished and let go and let God again – and within 30 seconds there was a warm breath on my cheek. Billy the mustang had walked quietly up behind me. He put his head over my shoulder and placed his chest against my back warming me through. It was glorious.

I knew from Ris that Billy never approached a human voluntarily so this was amazing. Gently I reached back with my hand so I could touch his neck and stroke him and he leaned a little further into me.

Once Lion and Walker had finished, I patted Billy’s neck and walked forward to congratulate my husband. And Billy followed me. He did what’s known in horse whispering circles as ‘join-up.’ It’s the biggest mark of trust a horse can offer. And he did it for me! And all I had done was stand, watching my husband and making peace with the situation.

It was one of the best moments of my life – I kid you not. I was so thrilled. And so chuffed when Ris telephoned her husband, Joe, to tell him all about Billy and me – because Billy had never, ever done that before in the Round, let alone out of it and they had been considering selling him on because he was not responding to their work.

That's Billy in the picture at the top of the page, working happily with one of Ris and Joe's workshop participants last year. So, in perfect symbiosis, Billy and I helped and healed each other and that is good to know.

61. Chemicalisation, Vulnerability and Shame.

I was going to write today about 'earthing' and walking barefoot on the moor and all sorts of lovely things.

But I feel like shit and I've been in bed all weekend with a flare-up in my neck that hurts like hell and has made me look like the Elephant Man. It's a little better today so I know that it's probably okay (mostly), and a Goddam healing crisis from the homeopathy. I'm also coming to realise that riding may not be the best thing for me to be doing at the moment. It's obviously jarring my neck badly and it has enough to deal with as it is.

This morning, a friend, David Wetton, posted a link to Brené Brown on Facebook which was just perfect timing. Brené talks about shame and vulnerability and that's so appropriate for me today.

Why? 

Because I'm not physically better yet and there are so many people cheering me on and believing in me. I think I'm not doing enough. I'm not doing it right. I'm afraid I'll end up in hospital being dosed with chemo by doctors who tell me that I've left it too late and I should have been more sensible.

Because I think I am going to have to tell Carrie the horse's owner that I'm not well enough to help her out right now.

Because Britain's Got Talent is airing from next weekend. And that means it's very likely that several million people will watch me failing and being told I'm not funny by unimpressed judges.

No, I don't know yet that I will be on the TV—apparently they'll call to tell me if it's so. But, if I am, I don't want to watch it because I remember so well that awful moment when I'd finished and looked at the impassive faces of three judges who didn't clap. I don't want to tell friends and family because I don't want them to see me fail. They know I didn't get through but telling them with a light-hearted "well, it's probably for the best and they didn't get me" is one thing. Having them watch it is another.

And also because the guy who promised to fund me for Edinburgh seems to have vanished off the planet. He's not answering messages or emails so my precious 'therapy fund' is empty again because I paid out for the entry fees and air fare and the posters in the happy knowledge that I was being sponsored. And there's a load more expense to come now that I'm now committed to Edinburgh. So I need to ask you guys if you can help out again please? If you can and if you want to sponsor me to perform at the Edinburg Fringe, please donate. I'd be so grateful. Thank you.

Several people have said to me how brave it was to ask the first time. Well it wasn't easy. I did feel shame and vulnerability but as I'm on a very, very healthy diet, I can't hide them behind a bar of chocolate or a glass of red wine any more. They have to be faced and dealt with. And that's one of the fascinating things about this journey—all my cover-up techniques are gone. 

Brené Brown says that when we numb shame, we also numb joy, gratitude and happiness. We can't have total delight if we are not willing to face our darkness. And I say that she is right. Because even though it's been a shit weekend and I hurt, there have still been moments of such joy and such peace and such profound prayer. I asked Lion to ring my Bishop and ask him to pray for me and he has phoned twice and been so kind. Until I was ill I always kept him at a bit of arm's length but now he is one of my best friends as well as a teacher and we love each other.

Brené quotes Theodore Roosevelt (and that really helped with the BGT thing too):

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

Yes, I am in the arena. And I can be proud of that.


And Simon Cowell, of all people, said "yes." He didn't say it because he thought my performance was good, I believe he said it because I was in that arena, failing magnificently. It may also have been because when I looked at him, I loved him. Not in a sexual way, in an 'agape' way. I can't explain that, but it must have shown.

And, you know, even though some days are shit I can in all honestly put my hand on my heart and tell you that I've never been so alive; I've never felt so filled with joy; I've never known I was loved so much; I've never loved so deeply; I've never had a heart so open as I have had this last year. I would not have missed this experience for the world—even though I so want to be healed physically too. I don't know what the outcome will be but (as someone said) faith is not about being sure, it's about not being sure but betting with your last dollar.

Thank you for being with me on this journey.

To read more of the story, please click on 'newer post' or 'older post' in black below.

If you are new to this blog and would like to start at the beginning, please go to the side bar and click on 'January' to find post no. 1. Thank you.