Wholistic Fitness

The sandy sinew of trail was bathed in the warmth of December’s “Cold Moon” sun. A winter’s solstice run up to the vortex of Boynton Canyon; creation birthplaceof the Yavapai-Apache to commemorate my 3-month old daughter’s ‘pranic baptism‘. This baptism of my child would not be performed with cold tap water and commissioned by some fat priest in some greedy church somewhere, but of the Mother Earth’s and Father Sky’s own spiritual current of life force that cascades out from this magnificent red rock box canyon near Sedona, Arizona in unreal, copious, and transforming amounts by those of us sensitive to such geologic chi lines. Often have I written in this forum of this sacred canyon. Each trip into this Earth Womb provides for me an undeniable and heart opening Grace. I needed my daughter to be baptized here and only here. A desert father like myself could provide no Higher a baptism…

Last night, Ananda and I had placed our baby daughter – Dewachen – so that that her Crown Chakra faced the mouth of the sacred canyon. The result was immediate: Dewa slept a record 9 hours as the sattvic waves of negative ions, pure and etheral, lapped again and again into her cells as she slept so serenely with barely a stir.

To solidify this empowerment for Dewa, I would run up the two mile trail that drives like a dagger into the Sacred Canyon. Through freezing temperatures that I love so much, I’d run in my best Native American style to a high sandstone perch that I knew by my h(om)ecomings to this special place over the course of some twenty five years. On that lofty perch within this gorge-ous vortex, I would meditate and perform a special puja (worship) in honor of the Yavapai-Apache Ancients and my family. What else is a rookie Father Warrior to do?

One half mile into my run, the sliver of trail veered west, tucking itself under the north wall of a soaring monolith of red stone. Now, surprisingly, my most cherished delicacy of my lifetime; Snow! Everywhere! How can I count the ways this mountain yogi loves snow covered Mother Earth!? The trail transformed from red earth dirt into an icy serpent’s hide piercing through a frozen riparian land of mystic awe. My average speed slowed. I was forced by the technical nature of the trail to walk, gingerly and sincerely at crux places. Sweat, snot, and skin now frozen. Upward I continued as the canyon narrowed to several feet, room enough only for the dry, snow caked creek to squeeze past. Iced waterfalls pinned themselves against the vaulting red towers like tinseled fingers. In love, with love I ran, chanting the Sacred Mantra. Seeing my Dewachen’s adorable face in my mind. Each footfall a din against the silence of this creation place, so with each focused foot placement I attached a syllable of the Sacred Mantra. My run thus became my aerobic rosary for whosoever prays outside of sweat is not praying at all. It was then that I felt Her nearness. First Woman.

The story goes like this:

TUNE IN NEXT TIME as i complete the story of my Baby Daughter’s Baptism by Mother Earth/Father Sky and the Yavapai!