[Photo of the Chinese Wall, Bob Marshall Wilderness, by Natalie Griffith]
My old friend Kevin called them power spots. They are places in nature that just feel good, sacred, powerful. One power spot was up Wright Canyon, near Leavenworth, Washington. Kevin and I sat up high on a big rolling granite ridge. At least I think it was granite. I think all big slabs of rock are granite, except when they are basalt. I was only in Wright Canyon once, but the views of wave-like ridges and steep valleys were stunning. This reminds me of the ridges in the Teanaway, awesome rounded hills of rock (sandstone I learned, after calling them granite). Most of my power spots are big dramatic rocks with a view.
Power spots. You know them when you feel them. One of my power spots is a ledge overlooking the Spokane River, not too far from my house. It is the top of a basalt cliff where we ride, you turn off the trail to get to the edge. Don’t get too close, because, you know, edges. The spot is open, bright, and has some small sage brush, rare in this area. You can see forever, the river glistens far away, and you can sniff a twig of crumpled sage. You feel people have stopped and looked there before, for millennia.
Rivers and creeks with deep dark pools, spots of calmness between the rushing water are also power spots for me. Especially where they run through narrow tall canyons and cliffs. It’s the rocks again. Lake Creek has one of those spots. You have to find the spot; it’s not on the trail. That may be part of the pleasure of power spots, the journey of finding them for yourself.
My friend recently traveled to Sedona and visited a vortex. I was in Sedona once and loved the red rocks and the pools of Oak Creek. In Sedona, the vortexes are supposed to be places of spiraling energy. Is it real? Is that what I feel at my own power spots? I don’t know. One scientist thinks that the vortexes are meditative spaces. There are no unusual electric or magnetic waves at the sites. However, the scientist believes mountains and mesa tops with a grand view give us perspective, making our problems seem smaller. While other sites down low in valleys, canyons, and caves help with introspection by limiting our focus on the immediate surroundings.
I like this idea that the broad vistas help us see the metaphorical big picture, and the smaller closed places like river pools in a canyon help us turn inward. All I know is my power spots calm me, they help me breathe deeply, and they feel good. I feel closer to nature, and closer to the people who have walked those trails and climbed those rocks long before me.
Source: http://www.redrocknews.com/2015/11/27/sanders-scientifically-explains-sedona-vortex-sites/
Michelle Eames 
This essay beautifully puts words to sentiments I relate to. I agree that the journey, effort, and discovery of such spots creates their significance. For me, there is a spot on top of a rolling hill, not much more than a mound that overlooks I90 near Four Lakes in Spokane. Part of the reason I like this spot is because most people would overlook it; it is not spectacular in the least. But looking out on the world, people buzzing by on the interstate, I somehow feel powerful, purposeful, but also small. It makes me think about where everyone is headed, the network that connects all their lives and stories together. I think about how extremely vast the human experience is and that somehow makes all my worries feel smaller, easier to handle.
Maybe this isn’t very coherent…I think I should leave the writing to you, but I just wanted to say thank you for a lovely essay!
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Thanks Shayla! Your thoughts make perfect sense. Of all the blogs so far (and I’ve written so many!??!) , this is the one that generated lots of discussion on facebook. Several people had good examples of their own power spots.
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