I’ve been going to Sedona since 2012.
To document this, the left is me in 2012. The right is me today.
I know that sounds like the beginning of a travel pitch, but bear with me.
Because this isn’t really about Sedona. It’s about what Sedona keeps teaching me, and why I keep going back to learn it.
I travel because I need to.
Not in a restless, can’t-sit-still kind of way (okay, maybe a little), but because something happens to me when I’m outside of my everyday. My mind opens. Perspectives shift. The noise gets quieter, and something underneath it all gets louder.
I come home with new eyes, and honestly? That’s one of my favorite feelings in the world.
This trip was no different. Except that it kind of was.
I Didn’t Follow a Plan
I went to Sedona with an agenda (always do.) And had a list of things I wanted to do. Hikes I wanted to take. Pages I wanted to write for my book. Conversations I wanted to have with myself under those red rocks.
And then my body said: no.
Not in a dramatic way. Just quietly, the way your body does when it’s been patient long enough.
Kayla knew this feeling, too. She’s the one who kept saying it outloud: I just need to be.
So we both went with it. No agenda. Or forcing. Just… whatever felt right.
Here’s what that looked like:
A new tattoo down my ribs. One that is for a single person, and no one else in the world — but him — needs to know what it is or why. Some things are just yours. I’m learning to love that.
Barely opened my computer. Even though I had fully intended to dive deeper into the book. The pages waited. Sedona said no.
Collected exactly one rock. Kayla and I were bending down to pick one up on a trail when a woman nearby piped up: “It’s illegal to take nature out of its place.” It felt… gross. The kind of unsolicited correction that shrinks something. The universe, apparently, disagreed with her. Because when we got home, there was a rock perfectly nestled inside my shoe. Some things just come with you.
Barely took personal photos. Instead, I captured moments. The food that never gets old. A Great Dane [note to Ryan: this was a sign!]. Coffee just right. Water boosted with the Sedonian touch. Art that was screaming my name. And a dragonfly that landed on my towel at the pool and just… stayed. Like it had somewhere to be and decided this was it.
Ate amazing food. Obviously. Obv.
The Real Takeaway
I’ve done a lot of self-work in beautiful places. Retreats. Massages. Meditations. Yoga with a view. Facials. Journaling sessions overlooking things that make you believe in God a little more than you did the day before.
And I’ll keep doing all of it. Because every single bit of it matters.
But here’s the thing I keep learning…..and this trip made it louder than ever:
The magic you find in the extraordinary has to come home with you.
You can do all the traveling and all the retreats and all the healing practices. That part? Is actually the easy part.
Standing in a place that’s sunny and magical and far from your regular Tuesday? Easy.
Feeling open and free when real life isn’t happening? Easy.
The hard part….the real work? Taking everything you discovered out there and applying it here. At the grocery store. In the hard conversation. When you’re feeling like mommin’ just aint working. In the Tuesday that looks exactly like last Tuesday. Or when each day feels like Groundhogs day. In the ordinary that doesn’t have red rocks or perfect light or a dragonfly that stays.
No amount of self-work works without you doing the real work while real life is happening 24/7.
That’s not a discouragement from seeking inspiration. Please, go to your Sedona. Go every year if you can. But don’t leave yourself there. Bring her home. That’s the point.
Don’t say, “Working on myself amidst the red rocks” only to return to a dirty lasagne pan.
It’s Real…..But
I believe the beauty of Sedona is real. And so is the beauty of your ordinary Wednesday….if you bring back the eyes to see it.
I’m still working on that. Same as you.
But I came home with a rock in my shoe and something quiet on my ribs that reminds me who I’m doing this for.
That feels like enough.
Xox,
SKH
p.s. These are the images you get when your BFF is a professional photographer who brings her camera so we can remember through the lens.
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