We tended the fire for several hours keeping the stones in the hottest part of the fire using pitchforks, rakes, and shovels, often singeing the hairs on our shins and forearms. After several hours of steady burning, the fire had been reduced to coals and had transferred its magical heat into the stones, which now glowed a pulsing, deep crimson. The stones were almost indistinguishable from the coals of the spent fire. The alchemy of the fire had turned them from bone to spirit.
Now it was time to enter into the lodge. It was early evening, maybe 5 or 6 pm. We prepared to enter into the lodge by stripping down to bathing suits, though Wendy donned a ceremonial dress that was used just for sweats lodge ceremonies. Standing outside of the lodge, we commenced a sacred silence, formed a neat line, and entered the structure one-by-one, starting with Leonard, by kneeling at the door and saying, “Mitakuye Oyasin,” a Lakota word meaning, “to all my relations.” My uncle taught me that this phrase invokes the spirit of all of my relatives— past, present, and future— as well as all spiritual beings who guide me on my spiritual journey through life. By saying “Mitakuye Oyasin” I invited the congress of my entire spirit tribe to assemble, to witness, and participate in my transformation during this ceremony. I watched the 5 or six others ahead of me kneel and whisper this incantation. When it came to my turn, I kneeled to enter the lodge and I couldn’t help but think of my grandpa, who had been dead only a few years and who, in his neat and orderly way, died exactly on his 95th birthday. He was one of the sharpest and most gracious, and loving people I’ve been blessed to have in my life and If I have a guardian angel following me around, it’s probably him. A converted and devout Mormon, I wondered if he would be in the ceremony with me.
We crawled in and formed a circle inside the perimeter of the lodge, our backs hunched forward, almost touching the walls. Our circle was a counsel, no person elevated over another. It made me think of the circle of life, the circle of past, present, and future relatives joining me in spirit during this ceremony.
Once we were situated inside, an officiator began to squat-shuffle his way in and out of the lodge using deer antlers to carry each of the red-hot stones, one-by-one, from the coals to carefully arrange them in the shallow pit located in the middle of the lodge. Arranging and amassing these stones took several minutes during which I sat quiet, almost hypnotized, staring at the glowing red rocks which seemed almost to melt into liquid magma, the boiling blood of Mother Earth. As the mound of hot stones grew, I could feel their heat pressing into my legs resting crossed-legged on the bare earth a mere 18 inches away. Not all of the stones were brought into the sweat lodge. Many of them were kept burning next to the coals in the fire pit so they could stay hot and be brought into the lodge intermittently later during different stages of the ceremony to renew the heat.
After the initial round of stones were in place, the officiator closed the flap that served as the only door, and the lodge plunged into blackness except for the deep, red glow of the stones. Immediately, the medicine man began to ladle water onto the hot stones making them hiss angrily like threatening rattlesnakes. A wave of searing heat quickly smacked me in the face and I reeled feeling as though all the air inside the lodge had been suddenly sucked out.
I sat among strangers, swallowed by heat and darkness, blinking wildly as I gulped down hot air which began to boil me from the inside. Within only a minute or so, my pores had opened and my entire body shimmered with hot sweat, cascading down my back, dripping into my eyes and off the tip of my nose, hitting the earth with tapping thuds.
The medicine man began to play a drum in a fast staccato. As if on cue, my core temperature rose and my heart began pounding in my ears, almost matching his drum. Leonard sang in loud and feral syllables, a language I did not understand, one of pure spirit.
After many minutes, he stopped singing and drumming and began imploring the Great Spirit, Father Sun, Mother Earth, the souls of the living and the dead, inviting the spirits of the elements, the stars, and our ancestors to join us in this ceremony of darkness and fire. Once the medicine man had finished his long prayers, he asked each person in the circle to pray aloud in turn. One by one, timid voices began offering their desires, hopes, and sufferings to the darkness and to the patient ears of the red-hot stones. The medicine man said that all forms of prayer are accepted in this church of mud and stones. As each person prayed, the temperature rose steadily and I felt as though time itself was melting, each minute stretching into oppressively long hours. The unbearable heat moved my heart from open to merely patient to annoyed and then to straight-up angry. I felt as though each person took lifetimes to say what was in their heart, while all I could think was, “Hurry up and pray, dammit!”
But, suddenly it was my turn to pray. By this time we had been in the lodge for nearly 90 minutes and I was feeling raw. The heat had melted away my guard like wax and as I opened my mouth to pray out loud into the darkness, I was surprised to hear a desperateness in my voice. I prayed openly, my desires, hopes, sorrows, and grief. I pleaded for help to find truth and wisdom. Tears soon poured down my face becoming indistinguishable from the streams of sweat. Soon, it felt as though I was crying from every pore.
Once our prayers were spoken, Leonard ushered us into the next phase of the ceremony by ladling more water onto the rocks, each splash instantly vaporizing with a furious hiss. The steam scorched our faces and lungs, penetrating deep inside of us. The heat found then incinerated the dams in our hearts that held fast our deep reservoirs of pain, grief, and guilt. A tangible energy, the toxic shit-sludge of our souls burst forth in wave upon wave into that tiny, black space. The air turned to lead. Our collective pain formed some dark demon, blacker than pitch, and I writhed and wept under its impossible weight. It felt evil, alive, and hungrily feeding on dread, like a wolf, crouched on my heart, growling and baring its fangs as it breathed menacingly into my face.
Going into this ceremony, I knew that it would be much longer than the sweats I was used to. I thought I was prepared, but after perhaps only 90 minutes I started to panic. I’d run marathons, hours of self-imposed endurance, yet this was already by far the most physically challenging thing I'd ever experienced. I was unraveling.
The ceremony continued.
My mind reached for a lifeline. I remembered Wendy saying that we had permission to leave if it got to be too much. The thought gave me hope. Then, somehow I felt my grandpa nearby and something inside of me calmly asked me to stay and continue this biblical wrestling between my own angels and demons.
The ceremony continued.
Another hour passes, or was it a night? In desperation, I lay down on the mud and curled up into a ball, pressing my face into the cool earth which had turned to mud from sweat and steam. The air was slightly more breathable down low giving me a little respite.
The ceremony continued.
After nearly four hours of wrestling with this physical and spiritual heat, I had reached my limit. I was starting to drift into unconsciousness, causing a new wave of panic to rise within me. Thoughts of, “Oh well, I did my best” soon eroded to, “Fuck this, I am leaving!” and I sprang to flee for my life. I crawled in a haze, desperate to get out the door. I was drunk with a lust to breathe fresh air, to lay my bare skin on the cool grass, to get out of that heat. I reached the door, popped open the flap, and as my body was about half way out, Leonard placed his big, calloused hand on my back in a supportive gesture and in my weakened state, the simple weight of his hand caused my arms to buckle and I collapsed onto my belly, face-down in the mud. I was half in and half out of the lodge. Panting. Head spinning. It was now dark outside though I could not guess at the hour. I gulped in the cool, night air.
“Brother,” Leonard said as he began to bless me… and for several minutes I lay face-down in the mud as Leonard spoke to the spirits in and around me. He blessed me with strengths and wisdom. He blessed me with a special gift to see into the future and into the past. He blessed me with the ability to see into different realms, the cosmic and the earthly, the masculine and feminine, to stand at the crossroads and translate to as well as direct others. He blessed me to heal my heart. He blessed my relationships, each a sacred ceremony in and of themselves. He blessed me to listen. He blessed me to speak.
After 10 or 15 minutes of prayers, I began to feel renewed in body and spirit. A surge of courage washed over me. My strength returned. I pushed back up to hands and knees and felt surprised as I felt myself crawling back inside the lodge. Despite it all, I was crawling back into the heat.
As I took my seat again in the circle, the officiators shut the door, closing off the cool, night air but not before bringing in an enormous, beautiful bowl of cold, fresh raspberries. Now, something you ought to know about me is that up to this point in my life, I wasn’t all that partial to raspberries. Tart pebbles in my mouth. But that night, after all that I had been through, I felt sharp, alert, and alive. This experience had blessed me with an unparalleled presence. Despite the fact that I didn’t care for raspberries, I’m here to tell you that when that bowl was passed to me, and I took three cold, fresh raspberries and placed them on my tongue, at that moment I saw the face of god! Never has anything tasted so beautiful, so sweet, so refreshing. As those berries burst open inside of my mouth, my entire spirit lit up with an ineffable joy. It was Soma, nectar of the Gods, manna from heaven. I suppose I will never taste anything as divine as those three raspberries as long as I live. And with that exquisite joy living in my mouth and with that unconquerable courage in my heart, I was again swallowed up into the darkness and heat and continued in ceremony for another 90 minutes. This time, each drop of sweat was a sacrament—my body and mind offering tears of joy.
The moment came when all the prayers had been said, all the blessings offered, our expiation accomplished, and the ceremony was over. They announced the end with, “WaHo!” and raised the door. The cold night air wafted into the lodge and one by one we crawled out into the night to be born again, the lodge exhaling a long plume of steam from its mouth. Wendy turned on her garden hose and we took turns drenching each other with that freezing water. It was utter elation. With laughter of relief and gratitude, we saw the entire world anew. I laid myself on the grass and watched the steam rise off of my body and merge with the stars above. My entire body pulsed at one with the Universe.
