Mindful Monday: Dancing Queens in Sedona
I recently returned from Sedona, Arizona, where my sister Deb and I had the honor of co-hosting a women’s retreat. The women who joined us were absolutely incredible—each bringing her own unique story, wisdom, and heart.
There is something profoundly powerful that happens when women gather in a safe and supportive space. Add in the breathtaking beauty of Sedona and the sacred refuge where we stayed, and the experience became even more magical.
Since I had hosted a retreat at this same location the year before, I thought I knew how things would unfold. Everything was carefully mapped out in my mind—the schedule, the flow of our days, the rhythm of our time together.
But, as life so often does, the Universe had other plans.
Just ten minutes before we were scheduled to land in Phoenix, the captain announced that heavy rain meant we couldn’t land. Instead, we had to divert to Los Angeles to refuel. To make matters more complicated, we weren’t allowed to leave the plane. The atmosphere shifted quickly—passengers grew frustrated and restless.
Hours passed. Eventually, the captain announced that we could step onto the airbridge but not enter the airport. So we stood, stretched our legs, and waited.
That’s when inspiration struck.
I was holding my phone, glanced at my playlist, and thought, why not dance? We turned on the speaker, and soon the familiar notes of Dancing Queen by ABBA filled the space, followed by We Are Family and other joyful oldies.
Laughter and movement spread quickly. Strangers smiled, tapped their feet, swayed their hips. A few even joined in. For those moments, we weren’t weary passengers stuck in limbo—we were a community, sharing joy in the midst of uncertainty.
That simple choice—to bring a little joy into a difficult moment—shifted everything.
What could have been a long, frustrating delay became a memory none of us will forget. Though we ended up spending five hours on the plane before being told we’d stay overnight in Los Angeles, our group left feeling lighter, bonded by this unexpected adventure.
From that moment forward, we proudly called ourselves "The Dancing Queens".
Of course, we missed a full day in Sedona. At first, that felt disappointing. But when we finally arrived, it was like stepping into heaven. The red rocks glowed in the desert sun, and the stillness of the land welcomed us—as if we had arrived at exactly the right time.
We were especially grateful to arrive in Sedona just in time for our guided experience with Rahelio, a shaman and spiritual teacher. His wisdom and presence set the tone beautifully for the rest of our retreat.
From there, everything unfolded with ease. We hiked stunning trails, shared deeply from our hearts, and nourished ourselves with food lovingly prepared by Deb. Our retreat home became a sanctuary where each woman could rest, restore, and reconnect with herself. It was a beautiful adventure.
Our final day in Sedona coincided with September 30th, Canada’s National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. In a moment of serendipity, we were invited to take part in a sweat lodge with our guide, Rahelio, at his home. The experience was powerful—sacred, transformative, and deeply moving. It hadn’t been part of our original plan, yet it felt divinely orchestrated, far more meaningful than anything we could have scheduled.
Looking back, the lesson is clear: we can plan and prepare down to the smallest detail, but life will still unfold in its own way.
Sometimes it means missing a flight or losing a day. Other times, it means facing much greater losses. Ultimately, we have a choice in how we respond to what arises. And when our challenges are much greater, may we offer ourselves compassion and receive support from those around us.
This journey reminded me that everything truly unfolds as it’s meant to. Missing that day in Sedona wasn’t really a loss—it was part of the journey, part of what wove us together as a group.
And when we arrived, we opened our hearts wide. Sedona gathered us in her arms and, as always, worked her magic.
With love,
Diane