Sweat Lodge

Come on into the Den. Excuse the heat and steam, but just thinking about this even makes me relive it. The sweat lodge cerimony I was a part of was such a major point in my life it really does come all flooding back when I think of it.

A small amount of background is required to properly place a context on some of the details below. First is that while I am a Status Indian, I often refer to myself instead as a half-breed, as my mother is of European decent. Even then I may not be considered a half breed as my father had green eyes and there is some European ancestry on that side of my family. Next, my father had committed suicide when I was six years old, and due to some disagreements between my mother and my father’s side of the family I had not had any contact with my Native relatives for a considerable amount of time. My mother had run into my Uncle Brian, also a participant in the ritual, and had started a dialogue that allowed some interaction, including having affidavits signed that allowed me to apply for my Status Card through Bill C-31 as my father was never included on my birth certificate. At the time of the ritual I had run somewhat adrift in my life, had worked in a number of different jobs and was unable to find a direction. I was suffering from depression and was at times suicidal.

While working at a job that was partly retail, my Uncle Brian came in and I mentioned how great it was to see him, as I had a lot of questions and was feeling very low. He suggested I come out to the reserve that weekend as they would be holding a Sweat Lodge. I jumped at the chance for several reasons, some for my own curiosity and some for my personal health. I was told to fast the 24 hours before the ritual and to arrive at 6 am. I was so nervous I didn’t sleep the night before and headed out early, arriving well before dawn, so I finally slept a few minutes in the car, before the house woke up and invited me in.

Sitting around the kitchen table in my Uncle Glen’s house, I had some of the ritual actions explained to me. To begin I would have to first cleanse myself, which started with the fasting. During the cleansing, which included a smudge, I was to take a small amount of tobacco and while placing my hand on the trunk of a birch tree and facing east first, I was to circle around the tree, sprinkling the tobacco as I went around the tree in a clockwise rotation. As I was doing this I was to recite a prayer to the Grandfathers, the name of the heated rocks used during the lodge, of what I was hoping to learn or accomplish during the sweat. It took me a long time to figure out that prayer. I stood with my hand on the tree for a long while, staring off into the dark morning sky before the question entered my mind simply. Why did my dad kill himself? With that I walked around the tree, with that prayer in mind, asking the Grandfathers to help me because I truly needed it and wanted nothing else but to know.

Once that was done, I helped my Uncle Brian get the fire going for the rocks. We piled up the rocks in a particular formation, and then surrounded the rocks with birch wood in another particular fashion. Since it was important for me to know since I was not learning the ritual at the time I am not sure why they were done that way. A tobacco offering was made before the fire was lit, with my Uncle reciting a prayer in Salteaux, ending the prayer with a noise like ‘ho’. He explained that was their version of Amen and I should feel free to use it to end any of the prayers I took part in during the ritual.

It is important to note that between my hunger and the cold I was already starting to feel different. I was excited to be taking part in something that I hoped would help me but also had a sense of things become slow, an almost suspension of time. I was removed from the general flow of the world and partaking in something that would create a new phase of my life. While I could not articulate that at the time, reflection on the entire ritual afterward I was able to realize that there was an intense sense of anticipation that was very much akin to the moments before my first child’s birth. I was about to embark on something that would alter me so fundamentally that it would change my world view entirely.

While the fire was starting to warm up, my uncle showed me the lodge. It stood at about six feet high, with one opening facing east. It was made of birch saplings, but I wasn’t able to see the pattern in how they were constructed, covered by many tarps. From the top hung an Eagle feather, which my Uncle Brian explained was a gift from the Sioux who had taught them the ritual.

Once the fire was going strong, and another prayer of thanks was uttered by my Uncle, both of us ending with a ho, we returned to the house. There was small talk around the table between me and my family. Partaking in the ritual would be my Uncles Glen, Brian, and Butch, and my Aunt Marsha. When I asked if there was an issue with mixed sexes during rituals such as this I was told that in times past they were partaken of separately but since so few knew any forms of rituals for cleansing like the Sweat Lodge it wasn’t practical to continue them segregated. The only restriction would be when a woman was having her period, which wasn’t an issue for my Aunt Marsha as she had already passed menopause. Strangely this was the only talk of the ritual; mainly we discussed Uncle Glen’s participation in the Echo Dam issue, and my Uncle Butch’s use of herbal medicines that were being rediscovered. I was fascinated by it all and was nearly hyper aware of my surroundings, I could see my relatives watching me and seeming to assess where I was in the process.

Without much preamble, my Uncle Glen said “Time to start, come out in a few minutes, me and Brian will set things up.” When they had both left, my Aunt Marsha explained to me that Uncle Glen was nearly deaf and wouldn’t wear his hearing aids during the ritual, so I had to speak up when I was spoken to. They both explained the order we would enter in. My Uncle Glen would already be inside, sitting on the north side, and when we entered we were to circle around from east to him in a clockwise manner, first Marsha, then me, then Butch, and finally Brian would enter and close up the door. They explained the opening prayer, which we would all participate in, and then move from door to Glen to have any questions or specific healings answered. This meant that from first to enter they would be the last to be answered. Before we went out Aunt Marsha put a huge pot on the stove to start cooking to be eaten afterwards.

Once outside I noticed the sun just barely beginning to crest the horizon, the wind had died to nothing, and all around me there were smells and sounds I hadn’t noticed previously. I was unable to see too well, as I had left my glasses inside, yet I didn’t feel the need to see detail, the sounds and smells were enough. We were each to once again smudge ourselves with the smoke from sweetgrass and sage, and pray silently for the blessing of the Grandfathers. Once Marsha climbed through the hole I joined her and moved around, sitting down cross legged. Inside I could still see a bit due to the door being open. There was a pit dug in the middle, more than a foot deep, and at least a foot and a half in diameter. Glen had arranged a small pot with water and a dipper by him, and several small plastic bags filled with various plant life which he was crumbling between his fingers into the water. Once Butch was inside, Brian started to lower red hot rocks, the Grandfathers, from the fire into the pit in the middle of the lodge. As he did so, Glen sprinkled the rocks with various items, and by the smell I guessed they were cedar and sage. While each performed these parts of the ritual, they also prayed in both English and Salteaux, asking the grandfathers to take our prayers to the Creator, and he who sits beside and wears the crown.

Once Brian entered the door was closed and it was entirely dark, I could see no light and could already feel the temperature rising. The ground was still a bit cold beneath the blanket but not uncomfortably so. Glen started a prayer in English that asked a number of spirits for their blessing and ended b thanking the Grandfathers for all they had done for us and to lend us their wisdom once again. Every couple of lines he would slowly pour a small amount of water onto the rocks and a warm full smell gently filled the space of the lodge. I breathed in deeply, and let the heat and moisture fill the space, listening with everything I could. I kept my eyes open, and let them soak in the darkness of the lodge. After a few minutes of deep breathing Glen started the opening prayer, which we all recited together. After the ‘ho’ of the prayer, Glen instructed us all to concentrate on our bodies and what we would experience in the lodge, that we must all keep our minds and spirits open to the input the spirits would give us, and rather than try to judge what we might be experiencing to instead let those things happen and let the meanings come as they would. During this I continued to breath very deeply, noticing the heat in the lodge was rapidly climbing and already a thin sheen of sweat was covering my skin. My nose was filled with the scent of what was on the rocks and already I was starting to see elements of the darkness that had differences, each patch of darkness had its own texture and manner of being, each seemed to take on new dimensions.

Once the different types of darkness set in Glen spoke again, asking Brian if there was something he was specifically looking for, a brief discussion of ritual inspiration happened, and they agreed to talk later and share what each saw as they meditated. Next Butch was asked what he was asking for and he expressed his desire to find a plant that would help with diabetes, something that runs in our family and both he and I are suffers of. Glen gave some directions to a place to meditate and that the spirits would send him an answer. The descriptions of this may be brief but each of these things took quite a while. I’m not sure how long as time was meaningless once inside, but there were long pauses between as each participant and the ritual leader took their time to let the spirits in the lodge talk to them.

At this time Glen called a small break to allow everyone to stretch their legs and to let the lodge cool a little bit. We all stepped out into the winter air and I was amazed as I watched the steam rise slowly from us all and the patterns I saw in them. Brian asked me how I was doing and all I could do was smile goofily and nod. I felt completely in tune with everything yet utterly unable to express anything. He patted me on the shoulder, and as we smudged again to re-enter the lodge, I could feel where Brian had touched me and it grew warm. The heat radiated out and I slid in feeling incredibly comfortable and happy.

While it should have been my turn Glen said that it would be best to leave me to last, that he felt it would be better for all involved if we dealt with Marsha first. I was a bit disappointed, but far too comfortable to do much more than nods and then finally realize he could not hear my nod and say “Ok.”

I can not remember what occurred with Marsha, the feelings in the lodge were intensifying and I was having a hard time focusing. Small sparks of light were swirling and the heat had made even the earth beneath us warm. I kept seeing a symbol appear in different patches of darkness that looked like a perfect right parenthesis. I thought it was weird but again I followed what Glen told me and tried not to assign any meaning to it. I felt my heartbeat and could feel the movement of the blood beneath my skin and I became hyper-aware of everything my body was doing. With slight concentration it felt like I could make individual strands of muscle tense and release and with just a thought of physical activity my heart rate increased. The patches of darkness that took on different textures now appeared to breathe; in fact the whole lodge seemed to breathe. Life was emanating from every tiny aspect of everything around me.

Finally Glen turned his voice to me and spoke slowly without any preamble, “I know what your prayer was, the Grandfathers have already told me you want to know why. Why isn’t always a useful question Richard. Instead I want to tell you what I see. You stand on a path but you have gotten no further down it than when you were a child. Your feet are covered in blood, in fact it pools around them it is so thick. You can’t see it but this is your fault not your fathers. Why would you pray for him when you need the help?” He paused and poured a small amount of water on the fire before continuing, “You see yourself of two worlds and you think you need to make a choice. Are you White or Indian? Why choose.” As he spoke the heat in the lodge was becoming hotter and hotter. The sparks of light were more numerous and moving with far greater speed. I had to turn around and look, there was a great yellow smear behind me in the darkness and it was very disappointed in me.

“Your feet are covered in blood Richard. You know you are not responsible for your father, but you let it rule your decisions. He is not gone, he cannot move on. He is watching your brother’s children. He is needed there and it is rare if ever you will see him. We, your family, and we the world, and the spirits know how strong you are. You can do what others won’t or can’t. You don’t need him, you have others who watch you. But you need to make a decision. You need to accept who you are.” At this point I was bawling and scared. Not because of what I saw but because of what was expected of me; because of the change that was required. Find me one person who is not afraid of change. Things started to fall into place and I sobbed out the one question I was always afraid to ask, “But didn’t he love me?”

“More than anyone else.” Glen’s voice didn’t sound right, and I have no idea how he heard me because my question was whispered. “You were his pride of all things. He thought of you when he killed himself. He knew he would hurt you if he stayed. He was nothing but a shell and even you know that.” Every time that Glen would say what the spirits knew it shook me. I had not talked to Glen for over a decade. I always got the impression he did not care much for the half-breed kid. Yet here he was saying things I’d said, in the exact way I’d said them. My dad was a shell, cored out from alcohol like too many of my family.

I continued to sob but everything he said felt true. The yellow presence behind me showered me with annoyance that I would ever doubt that my dad loved me. The heat in the lodge was making everyone pant. The steam seemed to breath in and out of us by itself and every so often one of my relatives would bark out a ‘ho.’

“So here is the choice Richard. Are you White or Indian? Do you follow the White world and ignore your Indian side, or do you become an Indian and ignore your White side.” While he spoke I heard the undertone of derision. The question was stupid. The question was all wrong. The question was mocking me. “You are both Richard, stop making stupid choices.” I just about fell over, my whole body shaking as I sobbed as all the pain of near three decades of guilt and doubt started to pour out of me. Hands touched my shoulders. Later Marsha and Butch would tell me that neither had touched me during the lodge, it was too hot and I was radiating as much heat as the rocks.

“Why do you doubt yourself? Why do you refuse yourself? Open yourself to all things that are yourself Richard, you know what they are.” It suddenly hit me who was behind me, another Aunt, yet one of very devout Christian faith, yet here she was to talk to me. Well to throw intense emotions at me. She threw every single emotion at me so strongly I shook even harder before it dawned on me what I was to do. I’m emotional yet I walked around like a stoic cut off from all extremes.

Glen started gasping and said “Is anyone else feeling like it’s hotter in here than it’s ever been before?” Everyone agreed, except me, I sobbed. I kept sobbing as I exited. Once I stepped out, and I saw the sun hanging above a tree I just stared. We let the cool air touch us, and the amount of steam coming off was enough to make a little localized fog around us. We smudged again and finished the ritual.

Glen spoke again, “We have surely been visited today, the spirits came and each of you has been touched. Take this next while to merely think on what you have experienced, and the spirits will give you one last vision for you to take with you from here.” That perfect right parenthesis appeared again, except rather than a small little flash now it was like something burned onto my retina from a flash bulb.

When we exited the last time I felt drained, but not exhausted. I felt different, new and rejuvenated. I did not know what to think exactly but I knew I did not think like I previously had. When told to come in to eat I tried to beg off, I felt the need to just think. I was told I couldn’t leave till I ate, so I went in and found out I was not just hungry but ravenous. I ate four huge bowls of stew and a half dozen buns slathered in butter. We all talked about the ritual and our final visions. When I mentioned the perfect right parenthesis Butch exclaimed “I saw that too, but it is a moon phase! That will be your holy day.” To this day it is. I tend to fast on it and sacrifice my meals to the spirits so they might continue to speak to me.

When I finally got home after the ritual I was exhausted and immediately fell asleep for most of the day and night. I had dreams that were more vivid than before, although I have always dreamed lucidly. My mind worked out many things that I saw and felt in the lodge, not all of them recounted here for they were me alone.

Strangely I had a very hard time with the writing of this paper and a small amount of fear. Not because I feel I was sharing anything I should not, or because of sharing things that others may judge me for. Instead it was reliving an experience that meant so much to me and had such a huge impact. Despite the length of time since that ritual I am still deeply affected and moved. I can recall certain things with perfect clarity and will continue to do so for the rest of my life. I learned a lot from that one simple ceremony.

The most important thing I learned was I am not meant to be either White or Indian but both and to live as me, a man of passion who will do those things others will not or cannot. I will bring about what I know and can do and from there I was able to find out who I am which has led me to what I am to do. I am a carrier of stories and visions, dreams and signs from spirits and these things are just as important as the knowledge I must learn to do what is ultimately my goal: To teach new ways between both White and Indian. I am a facilitator and teacher, and someone who will with time grow to the potential the spirits saw. For now I am happy to share and speak, to learn and be filled with many types of knowledge. I am impatient but can wait.