I lost my mother and father to cancer, and those were difficult times for me, heavy times in all aspects of my life. I was tired, and I was moving along on automatic pilot, but my pilot light was flickering. I was running out of gas. Then I found a sanctuary in the woods of Pennsylvania. At the time it was called Buffalo Island Sweat Lodge. The people there were safe and welcoming, and the land was gentle on the shore of a creek that was deep enough for swimming.
The first Lodge Keeper I worked with, Joe, had trained in the Navajo way, and he explained that there would be four rounds throughout the day. The stones would be heated in the sacred fire, and we would enter the lodge. Once inside, the stones would be carried into the lodge by a fire tender. Water would be poured over the stones, and this would heat up the lodge. Spirits would be invited to join us in this healing ceremony. We were all purified with sage and entered the sweat lodge.
I don't know what I was expecting, but there in the dark, with the orange glow of the hot rocks, the scent of sweetgrass, drums, chants and sharing of personal prayers and dreams, I didn't expect that hot tears would stream from my eyes. Eyes already stinging from the sweat trickling down my face, the tears just felt like part of me. I couldn't even bring myself to speak in my turn. I just cried in the dark. This is how it would be. That day, I lasted one round. The next few times I lasted longer and eventually stayed in all four rounds. Eventually I stopped crying and started participating. My visions in the lodge were of rosemary, sunflowers and healing.
I would later work with different Lodge Keepers and learned some of the Lakota ways and even some freestyle Celtic ceremony. I was able to train and serve as a fire tender. It was a hot and rewarding job making the fires and being of service to others needing healing. For several years, most of my vacation time was spent in the world of mud, fire and ashes.
The fire is built up throughout the day with the rocks inside, hot coals being created by continually built-up outer walls. Finally, a pitchfork is used to open up the fire and dig out the stones to be used in the lodge. That blast of heat when the sacred fire is opened is like nothing else. I had a few mishaps carrying the stones from the fire and placing them into the center of the lodge, but eventually I learned and was able to tend an entire lodge by myself.
Eventually I moved on to other things, but who I am now is changed by that experience. Sometimes when I journey in my mind, I go to that sweet place by the babbling creek. Aho! Carry water, chop wood.
