The Birthing Cave

It’s just before 7 a.m. and the lyrics to “Mother Earth” are rolling around my brain as I hope to find the Birthing Cave out in here in Sedona.

You know when you’re born
You first see light of day
Through a gap in your mother’s legs
It’s the truth
And from that minute on
Most of us guys
And some of you girls
Spend your life
Trying to get back into a hole, mmm-hmm
But, don’t worry
Because if you make it
If you don’t make it
They’re gonna dig a hole for you eventually in the ground
And slot you right back to Mother Earth

My research the night before has me on the right trail, but I discovered that to get to the Birthing Cave, I needed to go off trail into the Red Rock Secret wilderness. It’s January so I don’t mind going off the beaten path. I follow a few dry creek beds but can’t seem to get to where I need to be, although I do spot the rocky formation where I believe the cave may be located.

The few cairns that I find seem to be misleading one away from this sacred spot, and perhaps for good reason. Overuse and heavy population could ruin the spiritual nature of this place.

Women have been coming here for years in hopes of becoming pregnant, looking for Nature to help them where modern medicine may have failed them.

I see the opening of the cave in the distance, and soon find myself climbing a fairly steep incline before standing at the entrance. Birthplace of the World, Mother to us all.

You feel intrinsic, wholly contained within this makeshift symbolic organ that gives life. I softly rub my bare hands against her sides, the cracks and crevices that shape the Birthing Cave.

I’m not looking for help in procreating in the literal sense, but I come here searching more for a re-birth of myself, and if it isn’t too much to ask, perhaps for humanity as well.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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