Temezcal
This weekend I participated in a shamanic experience.
Although I do not align with any organized religion, I consider myself a spiritual person. I believe in a force greater than myself, I believe in an energy that connects all living things, I believe that there are some mysteries in life that just can’t be understood with science or rational thought. But having said all that, I’m never really gotten into yoga, or meditiation, or really anything that requires study, patience, or discipline in the area of spirituality. Which is odd, because I have certainly demonstrated the ability to study and exact self-discipline in other areas of my life.
Anyway, this wknd I headed to Susudel, Ecuador, which is about 2 1/2 hrs south of Cuenca. Susudel is the small kind of town where the one restaurant in town only needs to identify itself by a small sign that says Restaurante. (I assume that no translation is needed here.) It’s the kind of town where if you’re hungry, the man chopping down sugar cane stalks will loan you his machete while you chop yourself a few sticks to gnaw on. It’s the kind of place where most people don’t need (or have) electricity bec. they don’t have Ipods, or computers, or cell phones, or 1000 other techological advances that are supposed to make our life better, but somehow also complicate our lives. In short, it’s the kind of place where life just seems simpler, more basic.
It was with this backdrop, that we found soon found ourselves at the humble abode of Juan. Though a beautiful place, Juan’s home was much simpler than what most people in the states would consider a cabin in the woods. We soon set up our own simple homes (aka tents), and then waited as Juan and his family started setting things up for the ceremony.
The ceremony began by Juan telling us to bring the stones that were off to the side into the sacred half moon fire site. As we carried the rocks, we were to put into the rock our fears, our concerns, our doubts, whatever negative thoughts that might keep us from wholly engaging in the spiritual experience set before us. He told us that we would get out of this experience exactly what we put into it, and so we should use the rocks to help put ourselves into a positive state. It was such a simple task, yet so effective. I found that with each rock that I carried, I became a bit more centered, a bit less weighed down with my fears about my future, with my fears about the sweat lodge, with my fears about myself.
Once the rocks had been assembled on the fire pit, his family went about creating a giant bonfire. As they did that, his parents began praying, and began smoking a communal cigar. As we smoked the cigar, we were to gather some of the smoke in our hands, wave it over our faces, then over our hearts, then over our wombs. We did this so that their minds and souls could receive the blessings from Above. Then Juan’s mother offered each person a glass of this drink that she said was medicine. The next morning I could see that this drink looked nasty – it was brown, with unknown herbs floating around in it. But under the enchanting spell of the bonfire, I drank it all. It didn’t taste nearly as bad as it looked. Finally, Juan came around with some tobacco, that each person was to sniff up through each nostril. He said it would help clear the head, and was yet more medicine for the soul. It seems that they could’ve offered me anything and i would’ve taken it, so long as they’d said it was medicina. I have never eaten a cigarette, but I imagine if I did, it would be just as pleasurable as it had been sucking tobacco up my nose. It was especially bad after the tobacco had settled in a bit, and the taste started slipping down the back of my throat. But really, it was nothing that a few minutes of coughing and spitting couldn´t cure.
After the bonfire had burned for a couple of hours, we were instructed to strip down to whatever we would make us comfortable for the sweat lodge. The sweat lodge looked like a very tiny igloo (make of sticks intead of ice blocks). You could only crawl in, was not tall enough for anyone other than a 3 yr old to stand up in, and was maybe about the size of maybe a 6 person tent. The first people to go in were Juan and his father, as they were leading the ceremony. I put on my swim suit and sarong, and with the rest of the women who were not menstruating, entered first, followed by the rest of the men. We fit at least 17 of us in there, and really could have crammed more if we’d wanted to.
Once inside, 7 of the rocks came in. I´d never seen rocks glowing red-hot before, and it was powerful to think of all our fears, our doubts, our negative energy burning away in those rocks. When each rock was carefully placed in the pit, which was in the middle of the lodge, Juan´s father sprinkled lavender over it. As soon as the lavender hit the heat of the rock, it would immediately glitter, giving the rock a mystic kind of life. And then, just as soon as it had come to life, the sparkling would cease, and the next rock would be put into place. It was so mesmerizing and calming that my mind felt completely at ease and I felt emotionally ready for what was to begin.
Which was a very good thing, because normally the thought of being cramped into a small dark space with a bunch of people I don’t know very well, sweating profusely for 2 hrs, without the option of leaving whenever I felt like it – well, not my thing. Especially the last part. I can deal pretty well with physical discomfort – but the emotional discomfort of not having a ready and socially acceptable egress – if I had dwelled on that I may have lost it before we even began.
Once the rocks had been placed, we closed the door, and were in total darkness. The darkness, the warmth, the closed-in feeling – all was to help us remember life in our mother’s womb. I was amazed by what a comforting feeling it was. Songs were sang, and prayers were given – from time to time Juan would throw water on to the rocks, creating steam which of course raised the temperature in the lodge.
After we had passed through the first Puerta (door), they opened the door to the lodge. I actually found the cool air to be a bit uncomfortable, and hoped that they would close it soon, so that we could go back to the comforting warmth we had before.
Before they closed the door, more rocks were brought inside, again with the sprinkling of the lavendar. This time when they closed the door, we were to think about our childhoo: our earliest memories, what lessons we had learned from our parents, etc. We were to think of the rocks as our Abuelos (grandparents) and be open to any messages or lessons from the Abuelos.
When we had passed through the 2nd Puerta, the door was opened again, more rocks were brought in, the door was closed, and more songs were sung. By this point, we had created a collection of hot rocks, and the temperature in the lodge had grown considerably. Some of the men were groaning, as a way to cope with the increased discomfort. While it may have helped them, for me their groaning had a very disquieting effect, and I wished desperately that they would stop. I found that if I lowered my head between my knees, it helped immensely. It shielded me from the heat, which at times could feel burning – esp. after water was thrown on the rocks, and shielded me from the noise and what I considered negative energy from others. We were passing through the 3rd Puerta, which is our current state. We were to reflect upon our current life, the things that we need to let go of, the things that we need to forgive, etc.
The 4th Puerta to pass through was death, and it was actually the hardest. At this point, the lodge felt like an oven, and the groaning had become very intense. We had also been in the lodge for nearly 2 hours, and I had hit my limit. But they told us that it was in this state of desperation, of colliding with our limits, that the Abuelos were giving us their greatest lesson. They told us it’s easy to be content when everything is just as we want it – but they challenged us to find peace within ourselves despite the challenges that affronted us from without. I forced myself to lean into the suffering, reminding myself that this suffering was voluntary and giving me a lesson, while there are people in the world whose suffering is much greater and definitely not voluntary.
When we finally came out of the lodge, we were to think about it as leaving the mother’s womb. And it did feel a bit like a rebirth. Despite the fact, or actually because of the fact, that I had just sweat for two hours, I felt, in a way, immensely clean. When you sweat so profusely for so long, a lot of toxins come out. I felt that sort of high that you feel after running a marathon, or climbing a mountain, or doing anything that at the onset seemed overwhelming. I thought with all that sweat sitting on us, the cold night air would be harsh, but we came out to find the bonfire still burning. We wrapped ourselves in our towels, and stood around the fire, speechless, still soaking in the power of the experience.
As I was standing there, this woman said to me, How many times in your life do you experience something, and think, Oh my Gosh, I have never felt anything like this ever before_!_! and When will I have the chance to do this again_ It occurred to me, I have felt that way countless times in Ecuador.
Tags: Travel
jenniferadams515
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