I was nervous because of the very real chance that I might not be able to go through with the whole thing. I have often felt lightheaded in saunas and do not enjoy extreme humidity. But, heck, if I can climb Silver Peak, I can do just about anything.
But nervous I remained.
Our lovely motherly cook Shirley had been to some before and answered my questions the best she could, making sure I had everything I needed:
- water
- a towel to bring in
- a towel for the shower after
- bandanna... for something important apparently
- loose skirt
- loose shirt
- water
The lodge was set up at the end of the large yard that backed onto desert and mountains. It was small. Or, rather, short. The tarp-covered dome was probably no more than four feet high at the apex. It was very hard to picture all of us fitting into it. It looked a little like this.
The moon was soon to rise and we were waiting for the sky to change colour before beginning. We milled around having pleasant where-are-you-from conversation and I tried not to think about fainting and headaches and admitting defeat.
Next to the big bonfire, Richard, who was to lead the ceremony, was getting together all the supplies. When the time came, Malcolm held up a smoking sauce pan filled with burning sage to smudge each of us, front and back. Clutching my towel and bandanna but woefully leaving my water bottle behind, I went to the door, turned clockwise while saying "All My Relations" as instructed, stooped down and went through the flap.
It was dark and small. In the middle there was a shallow but wide pit and the earth between it and the walls was covered in squares of offwhite carpet. Custom says women go in first and you must crawl clockwise all the way around, stopping next to the person who went ahead of you. I squirmed until I found a spot without a rock poking up underneath to sit on and scootched forward because my head touched the roof (or was it the wall...).
After everyone was in, Gary went and got the first round of rocks. He shoveled the large round glowing red porous masses from the bonfire, and brought them to Richard, who used two antlers to handle them. As each of the seven rocks was placed in the centre, Leesa sprinkled cedar on each and welcomed them.
The flap was open and the moon was full so I had a chance to look around and see that the lodge frame was made with long bent branches, which were covered in woven Mexican blankets. There were wide strips of cloth and feathers hanging from the top over the pit. Looking over to Richard who sat next to the door, I could see his outline as he sang in what I believe was an Apache language while getting everything ready. I took in this silhouette and wondered how long it would be until I would see light again. Already I was sweating.
The flap was closed and everything went dark.
Round 1
Richard explained the ceremony. There are four rounds. In the first we would introduce ourselves to make sure the spirits knew who we were (apparently they can't see in the dark either) and sing; in the second we would sing to honour women; the third was the prayer round; and the fourth would have more singing and saying goodbye. He gave no sense of length. What was clear is that the heat would build as more rocks were added each time. He said he would try and go easy for the newbies but asked us all to endeavour to be strong and stick it out. His advice? Turn off your brain when it told you to get the heck out. I think he spooked Mary, the other first-timer, and she asked to leave right away. I understood how she felt, but told myself I would do my best to make it through. How bad could it be?
Everyone introduced themselves and said a few words about why they were there. This was weird for me as I wasn't exactly sure of my deeper reasons as this was such an unfamiliar thing. I told everyone I was a visitor looking to learn from the people and the land here with an open mind and heart.
It was clear from what the others shared that there was a great desire for people to find peace and lift burdens in this lodge. Though sceptical, I thought that would be nice for me too.
The temperature was rising quickly but I was feeling confident and relatively comfortable. Then Richard poured a bucketful of water on the rocks. The air got hot and thick.
The singing and drumming started. Wow! Was it ever powerful! Leesa's voice in particular was strong and beautiful. In such a small space, it was so dominating that it became impossible to think of anything else. This helped a great deal. I breathed in through my nose and enjoyed the feeling of the sweat pouring down my skin.
Though this round was bearable, I was grateful when the flap opened and the cool night air wafted in. I felt a little nauseous and headachy, but was assured this was normal. Everyone checked in on me to make sure I was doing well. Their concern felt welcoming.
Round 2
New rocks were welcomed and Richard told us about the spirits and the different forms they take for different people. He spoke of the four colours - red, white, black and yellow - and their attributes. These attributes he believed were evident in the peoples of they represented - the red (Natives) were spiritual, the white (Caucasian) were handy, the black (Blacks) were athletic, and the yellow (Asian) were experts in medicine and healing. He also spoke of how every man is 51% male and 49% female while every woman is 51% female and 49% male - that one percent being the physical. Though I could not relate to these philosophies, I tried to focus on their intent. He was preaching acceptance and others and oneself; not seeing yourself as better or worse than anyone else.
It was hard to pay close attention, though, as the heat rose. He kept pouring water and breathing became a little more difficult. I tried to take shallow breaths, but it was hard. Then I discovered the use of the bandanna which would become my best friend for the rest of the night - breathing through it allowed me to inhale deeply and shielded my face from the heat.
The singing and drumming started and I was again amazed at how much it helped to withstand the heat. After Richard finished, Malcolm sang a Christian song in English and before you know it the flap opened once more.
The second round was definitely more difficult, but neither it nor the first were long and my confidence went up. It helped that I (weirdly) had to get up and go to the bathroom, allowing for a break from the heat. The outside air was cool and refreshing. Water was passed between each round to rehydrate and pour over your head. The relief was wonderful. Like the feeling you get with the first signs of spring after a hard winter.
Round 3
More rocks! I winced with each one added. It takes a long time to shovel out seven rocks one at a time and put them awkwardly in the pit with antler oven mitts. And you knew with each glowing mass that things were just going to get that much more painful. Tortuous. But I'd been doing ok so far. The nausea and headache had passed and I survived the first two.
For this round, everyone in turn was to pray out loud to the spirit(s) in whatever way they conceived it(them). Richard started. He spoke for a few minutes about each person around the circle and blessed them. For me, he said that I was at the beginning of a journey with a lot of change in my life and wished for me the ability to follow my heart. Creepily intuitive. He then prayed for each member of his family and friends, ending each sentence with "Grandfather God". He was very eloquent and touching, but I myself was praying for him to finish. I felt shame for thinking this, but the heat was getting unbearable and he was only the first of eight of us to pray. Things were not looking good.
There are survival methods when you get overwhelmed. Seeing as heat rises, you can lie down and it becomes marginally less intense. Also, you can lift the bottom of the tarp a bit and let a little outside air in to breathe. By the middle of Richard's prayer, everyone but him was lying down with their backs to the centre, mouths against their little tunnels to the outside. It helped, but was definitely not enough to alleviate the growing discomfort. Breathing in felt like inhaling fire and I worried I would have no nose hairs by the time it was over. I breathed through my towel and to my amazement, when I exhaled it radiated coolness throughout its fibers. My breath was significantly cooler than the air. Breathe on your palm and imagine that.
My clothes were all soaked through and my skin was burning. It was increasingly hard not to express my discomfort and I found myself sighing and groaning quite a bit. I wasn't the only one and as soon as Richard finished his prayer (with the customary "Mitaku Oyasin") he opened the flap. Had he not done this, I really don't think I would have made it. I don't think I was the only one that was worried, either. That said, the other prayers were not as short as I would have liked and I guiltily wished everyone would just say a word or two so we could get out of here.
I can count the number of time I have prayed on one hand. I was very nervous about my turn. Everyone else was really baring themselves. I knew more about these strangers by the end than I do about many of my friends. Sad stories were shared and I was overcome with their honesty and openness. When my turn came I wanted to keep it short, but I actually found that once I got started it was hard to stop and I understood why everyone took their time. It was such a free and non-judgmental space. There were often sounds of sympathy or joy expressed when people spoke - conveying deep listening and empathy.
After thanking them all for being so welcoming - especially Leesa for her generous invitation to participate - I sent out a general wish for people back home and here to find peace and direction in their lives and for all, including myself, to realize that a heart that has loved and been loved can never truly be broken. I sent love to my friends and family, signed off and laid down again. It felt weird but good to speak out like that and I realized that while I was talking, the discomfort from the wet heat went unnoticed.
Once all prayers were spoken, and just when I thought I would lose it and claw my way out, the flap was opened and we were able to go outside and take a break. This rarely happens - usually you stay in the lodge between rounds with the flap open, but apparently even Richard was feeling dizzy.
The air was cool. The moon was full and bright.
Once more to go.
Round 4
Mercifully short. Two songs. Cheers and congratulations when it was over. I was starving. It was midnight. We had been in the lodge for over four hours.
Feast
We showered, smoked the peace pipe (just sage, thank goodness), ate, and looked at each other in the oddness of indoor lighting. I was surprised at how normal the conversation was. We had all been through this unbelievably intense experience and were now discussing border politics and career moves over burritos.
But when I finally left to drive back to the Station at 1am, I got meaningful looks and hugs from everyone. I was sad to leave them. This motley crew felt like family.
Epilogue
I don't know what I expected to feel. I certainly had no noticeable epiphanies or profound spiritual feelings. But waking up the next morning after very little sleep, I actually felt light and chipper and kept up energetically for the whole day. The next day I slept coma-like through breakfast for the first time but the feeling of weight lifted off my shoulders remained. Nothing drastic, but a noticeable shift. It could be I was acclimatizing or getting a ton of vitamin D, but I think the sweat lodge had some effect.
That said, I won't be clambering to do another in the near future. Maybe once time has passed and I forget the extreme discomfort I'll venture in again. For now, I'll keep myself open to other new experiences and opportunities here.
Could almost feel the heat, hear the prayers and see the moon. Thanks for your family wishes and may your journey continue in a wonderful weaving of heart, head and senses in a spirit of peace, joy and love.
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