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28.07.02 - 9:17 pm
the lodge is built in a day. it is built from branches tied together, anchored directly to the earth, in the forest. it is round and low to the ground, very low to the ground. maybe four feet high. after the stick frame is built, blankets are laid over the top. then tarps are laid over the blankets. it is very dark inside. not much air gets in. in the center, inside, is a hole in the earth. a ceremonial fire has been burning, outside the lodge, and rocks heated in that fire. they are placed into the hole in the earth. they are placed there after we are all inside, crouched next to each other. women on one side, men on the other. women go in first. everyone moves around the lodge in the same pattern as the sun. that is, clockwise.i was more than sweating. carl bigheart threw water on the rocks and it was pitch black inside. i could see nothing, not my own hand in front of my face, only the redness of the stones. i was aware of the people near me, sometimes i felt their sweat drip onto me, or i felt a stray limb. carl bigheart beat the drum into the empty blackness and the stones glowed. in the comfort of the darkness i rocked and sweated. when time for praying came i whispered to myself, surrounded by others whispering to themselves. the sweat poured. it soaked my sarong entirely, it soaked the blanket floor, it dripped into my eyes and stung.
it went like this, 20 minutes in, carl beating the drum and singing and talking to us. 10 minutes out and drinking water. 30 minutes in. 10 minutes out. we went in four times, once for each direction. we prayed for ourselves, for our loved ones, for mother earth. we gave thanks. carl would speak stories and give spiritual guidance. he said so many things that need to be said, to us. he said to avoid gossip and melodrama, he said that love is not god. he rubbed good smelling things on the glowing stones, and threw on pinches of herbs which glittered red gold as they burnt into the air.
i felt like he addressed many of the things about my life here at omega that i had been worrying about just prior to the sweat, worrying to josh the photographer actually. worrying about the gossip, the rampant hooking up, these shortcuts humans take to reach intensity faster. i had been unhappy.
on the third round i was near giving up. reached the brink of suffering. was curled fetal with my head on the wet (wet with the sweat of us) blanket breathing the air from the mud underneath. rachel (she is beautiful, with long legs and perfect feet and big almond eyes. she has been doing yoga since she was young) felt my undoing and put her hands on my sweaty back. carl went to shut the door for the complete darkness portion of the praying and i cried out: I NEED TO LEAVE, and i was cradled out to the door by many hands. as i crawled past him, carl said sit close to the lodge to me. i couldn't make it much farther than that, sweaty and weak, on the ground by the lodge. sitting in the dirt. sitting in the dirt in a puddle of my own sweat, near joe. no words, silently next to each other.
dirt was all over me. i was too overwhelmed by the assault on my body to maintain any level of propriety. neither could anyone else. we were all covered in dirt from throwing ourselves down wherever we needed to between sessions in the lodge. i saw steph lay full sweaty backed onto the dirt, stand up with a dirt tattoo covering the contours of her back and shoulders, oblivious. i had dirt and leaves stuck to me. i'd wipe the sweat off my face and just wipe leaves and dirt on to myself.
all this surrounded by dappled ground, tall green trees, moss.
on the last round, we passed the peace pipe. i went back in after my early departure from the previous, and it was safe and easy then, a womb, a warm cuddling hole full of human life. i leaned into the heat and the sweat then, happy and comforted to be at the end of the journey.
a new gentleness arose between us after the lodge. we stumbled, in sweat-drenched comradery, to the dining hall, where food never tasted so good. i have never felt so connected with these people. i have become vulnerable before them and they have supported me.
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(linky tradie: darkness.cairine.org, eatshit, joanna, joeaverage, jim, drew, suicidegirls.com, oof, bobby, chaya, swinney.org, trouble, xep, coleen, joyrider, stoo, domini, zum online, qq, others later)