I just I just got back from a vacation in Sedona, Ariz.

Woo-hoo!

Or should I say, woo-woo?

Let me explain.

I got the idea for this vacation because Francesca always wanted to see the Grand Canyon, but I can't say I was yearning to see it. I thought: Look at a picture and you get the idea.

Or so I thought.

It was only the first thing I was wrong about on our vacation.

Because it turns out that the Grand Canyon is even more grand than you think, though it is still terrifying to someone who has vertigo, even when viewed from the snack bar.

But that's not the point of this column.

Or of this journey, or even of Sedona.

I can't remember where I heard about Sedona, except that I heard it had energy vortexes, which were supposed to be natural formations in the red rocks that produced magnetic fields or something like that.

I'm no scientist.

I'm just a suburban lady who feels tired, like every suburban lady in the world, or at least in the suburbs.

Bottom line, the energy vortex sounded like a good thing. I did my research, and it turned out there were six or seven energy vortexes in the Sedona area, and I started to get excited about the idea of going there and getting seven times the energy.

Like a vacation that recharges you, literally.

Which appealed to me because I'm Type A, and I'm writing three books a year. I figured if I went to seven energy vortexes, I could rack up seven times the energy, and write 21 books a year, if I'm doing my multiplication correctly.

In other words, I could go from Type A to Type A+++++++.

I could raise my grade in life and even go for extra credit.

I could make more money on less caffeination.

I would have vortex power!

You get the idea.

Plus, I would undoubtedly have extra energy to come home, clean out my closet, file my bills, and throw away my old bras, which is every bra I own.

I think I took French II in my favorite bra.

In fact, I still own the bra I took the SATs in, though the cups must not have been the same size, since my English score was high and my math score couldn't fill a demi-cup.

The only problem was that Francesca and I couldn't drive anywhere when we went to Sedona, mainly because I'm too scared to drive at heights, so we hired a guide who took us on the energy-vortex tour. The brochure said the guide knew a lot about geology, vortexes, and Indian culture, and was even a medicine man.

My only thought was, Is he single?

A medicine man is kind of like a doctor.

Or at least he qualifies, to me.

But, of course, he has a girlfriend.

I didn't ask if she was a medicine woman.

Anyway, as it turned out, our guide was very nice and very smart, and when he takes us to the first energy vortex, he's honest enough to tell us that he's not sure that he believes in the energy-vortex thing at all.

Francesca was fine with it, but I was aghast. I wanted my energy back. Or, failing that, my money.

But I didn't say any of that because it would've sounded crass and materialistic, and I was already getting the idea that Sedona is definitely one of the more Zen places on the Earth.

Which I thought would be a dumb thing, but as it turns out, it's a great thing.

So our guide took us to one of the highest points in the canyon that was previously known as an energy vortex, and he set up a medicine wheel, which for you medicine-wheel virgins like me, means you basically put four rocks in a circle, stand in front of the rock, and think about your life.

I was still grumbling to myself when we stood there in stillness, and my brain was thinking about a million things, basically calculating how much energy I was losing by the second, like I was a human battery and the level was inching into the red zone.

But Francesca stayed nice and still, and so did the guide, and so did I, since I didn't want flunk medicine wheel.

I wanted an A+!

And, in time, I began to contemplate the beauty of the surroundings, the rich redness of the rocks, and the clear azure of the sky, and then I listened to the stillness of the wind whispering through the canyon, and I watched a hawk soaring overhead, gliding on currents I couldn't see.

And I stopped wanting my money back.

I felt recharged, as if my spiritual phone had been plugged in all night long.

The journey turned out to be a spiritual one, after all.

Later, I even bought crystals, books on Zen Buddhism, and three strings of prayer flags, which I hung all over the house when I got home.

I'm hoping they'll remind me that the energy is in me, not in any vortex.

And if I forget, there's always caffeine.

Look for Lisa and Francesca's new humor collection, "I've Got Sand in All the Wrong Places" and Lisa's new domestic thriller, "One Perfect Lie." Also, look for Lisa's new Rosato & DiNunzio novel, "Damaged,"

coming Aug. 15.