Chapter 2
Through The Gate
Taking shelter with beauty! -- Reagan Word
Let beauty now be what we do, what we do. -- Rumi
The transformation we'd come to Sedona for had been set in motion by committing to the present moment and as we settled in we stated taking the idea seriously. We knew from previous visits to Sedona that there were always plenty of cultural and art events going on around town so why not take time out from the endless job of unpacking to investigate what was going on in town. Who knew where the muse might show up?
Every day we made the two mile drive to the Uptown post office, a proper excuse to scout for a good coffee shop, find a great restaurant, maybe drop by an interesting art gallery. It was a welcome change from the sheer toil of moving in and we looked forward to it like enthusiastic tourists making their way up and down highway 179, Sedona's spectacular scenic byway. We liked gawking at all the new upscale storefronts as well as the funky older places where the faithful could still sign up for a vortex tour, buy crystals, get an aura reading or sit for a psychic consult.
On one of our trips we noticed a stunning new piece of public art installed near Tlaquepaque, the landmark Sedona shopping plaza modeled on an old Mexican village. The imposing bronze sculpture was set handsomely in a small landscaped traffic roundabout. Entitled The Open Gate it was composed of an arresting grouping of natural elements including an apple tree, a Great Blue Heron and a bear symbolizing a crossing to a place where freedom, creativity and diversity were celebrated. Investigating further, I was astonished to learn the sculptor was Reagan Word, an old high school classmate from over 55 years ago who'd lived in Sedona for almost 40 years. I called him up and before long we'd made a date to get together.
Upon meeting Reagan and his wife/muse Betsy, I realized we'd found two stalwart pioneers who'd arrived at wisdom's edge long ago and lucky us, they were more than happy to share their story of how they'd met the muse. Visits with kindred spirits mean a lot any time but connecting with Reagan and Betsy spoke of a sense of karma at play. It was like reconnecting with some long lost relatives who turn up out of the blue, the kind you'd always hoped to meet up with again because you'd shared a special kind of spiritual kinship and held on to the same dreams growing up.
In fact, although I'd remembered his name, I had almost no recollection of Reagan Word, the boy, from those long ago days when we were both kids in Fort Worth, Texas. And he had an even hazier idea of who I was. But we both had common remembrances of people, places and things from the past that made conversation fun and easy. I told him that in Sedona I'd admired not only his public art but also his maquette sized sculptures at one of the town's premier art venues, the Goldenstein Gallery. He was quite modest about his achievements, but when I looked later at his resume I saw that during his career as a professional artist over the last 30 years he'd received numerous award and accolades, The Open Gate his most recent triumph. The person he'd become now and his life as an artist offered a distinctly inspirational message about the power of nature to support a creative path and purpose in life. It was one straight from the mouth of the muse to my waiting ears.
Before long Louis and I were guests at Reagan's house for a scrumptious lunch prepared by charming chef Betsy. We were happy to get better acquainted with these two amiable souls with Louis and Betsy proving to be agreeably good natured listeners as Reagan and I chatted and laughed for hours about people, places and things from over fifty years ago. We marveled at having grown up in the same part of town, attending the same grade school, middle school, high school and even the same university, yet never crossing paths socially. Sharing stories about high school chums we'd kept up with and others we hadn't, we spoke of those who'd gone on to success and fame, entertainers like Betty Buckley and John Denver who'd discovered their unique creative paths early on in life. Other memories edged closer to where spirit meets bone, revealing a perspective on life born of honoring the quest to fuse creativity and spirituality.
Reagan told me he'd met his muse early on, that he knew by the second grade he wanted to be an artist. But it had taken years of life experience, he said, with numerous twists and turns on the road punctuated by a series of spiritual surrender moments before he found the courage to create art the way he'd always wanted to. Over the years he'd found a teacher, meditation, a spiritual sharing group and study, all of which had been vital to his expanding ability to tap new wellsprings of creativity. He explained that he'd finally learned to create for himself, to do what excited and inspired him, and from that flowed a personal and poetic narrative that elegantly defined who he was and who he'd become. Now, he said "I continue to push the envelope, wondering if I dare expand those wonderful ideas that I always protected from criticism by not doing them!"
I asked him about finding his second life in Sedona and he joked that he was now in his 'third second half of life,' since early on in his twenties he'd made the decision to embark on the road to wisdom's edge to embrace Beauty, his true muse. He said that each 'half' of his life had always been proceeded by an incredibly empty feeling -- 'What? Surely there's more to it all than this!' -- and every time he thought the bottom had been reached he'd felt a rekindling of what he called his spiritual quest. "Art and Beauty are my sanctuary and since Beauty demands to be seen, I must be seen as well, following behind my creations to their destinations near and far. In transit, I trust the seen and unseen hand of Beauty to guide and to comfort, as so beautifully expressed by Rumi."
We'd both come a very long way since those long ago years in high school when we were like many teenagers who wanted to be artists or writers. Back then we'd often felt like complete naifs, odd but creative souls adrift at sea wondering when and if we'd find our place to fit in, get a grip, make our mark on life. I told Reagan it was immensely rewarding to me, seeing how the second half of life/third act could offer transformative moments that let the mind open, the spine stiffen and the heart open. It was as if in reaching wisdom's edge, an encounter with grace had occurred, bestowing the necessary healing and ability to offer at last a generous and kindly smile to one's younger self.
This sense of wisdom and grace marked all Reagan's art, particularly The Open Gate and in his new work in progress, a sculpture he called Murmuration. He showed us the computer mock up, an exulting solitary figure encircled by a flock of starlings in an ecstatic swirling configuration. Alive with the joy of the freedom to be and become part of something greater and grander, the piece was powerful and inspiring. It captured, as had The Open Gate, the artist's own philosophy and spirituality.
Louis and I said farewell to Reagan and Betsy and promised to meet up again soon. How could we not? These two remarkable people had met their muse and were now showing the way for us. Reagan's artistic vision spoke eloquently and powerfully to the possibility of finding one's highest and best creative expression by stepping boldly into a new place of wonder, beauty and inspiration. The Open Gate was more than a beguiling and beautiful piece of public art, it was a beacon and doorway to wisdom's edge.
Artist's Statement for The Open Gate
The apple tree growing from the life giving waters of Oak Creek is guarded by the Great Blue Heron, a long time resident of Sedona. Many remember the heron at the bridge, a glimpse of which on the northbound pass over the old bridge was a delight and a welcome reminder of the eloquence and beauty of life along Oak Creek. What better guard of the gate than the Heron, which is a symbol of the pursuit of one’s unique individuality.
This quest for our personal purpose in life is the hallmark of Sedona, where so many seek the comfort of beauty and the inspiration of the Spirit. The Tree, the Spirit, nurtured by Sedona’s beauty, guarded by the heron, our commitment to our unique purpose in life, manifests itself into the fruit of our individual services, be they artistic, literary, theatrical, musical, educational, scientific or the healing arts.
Be they performed by any of the multitude of cultural or ethnic groups, these co-creators share the common denominator of the Spirit and the power and inspiring beauty of Nature.
Sedona is diverse in its paths and broad in its views. All who journey here find an open gate.
-- Reagan Word
Meeting Your Muse: Speak, Beauty
