Saturday night I drove two and a half hours to Pasadena to attend my first lodge in a long time. It was a rainy torrent on the road, but I arrived just on time- to a roomful of strangers, all seeking a polishing of their spirits for the Solstice.
It was a powerful sweat, and a hot one, too. Especially that fourth round. The water-pourer kept that round short, but I could feel the water and all that I was letting go raining off of me in streams at that point, like tributaries flowing generously and sacrificially into the Great Mother.
Let me back up a bit and tell you about what I was really there for.
Midwinter is a traditional time for purification. It symbolizes a housecleaning and detoxification to prepare for the longer, deeper days of winter ahead. Though we celebrate the sun's return, it will be much colder before it gets warmer, in this hemisphere, anyway.
I consider that so many of us are Lightbringers. It is as if we have awoken to our collective purpose of giving away the best of ourselves so that others and the Earth will benefit. Thus, ceremoniously welcoming the Sun back to his seasonal throne, feels affirming to me. It feels a fitting celebration for the creative work ahead.
I went to release grief. Grief of the things which cannot be and that no longer are. Grief that clings and punishes when it has stayed on beyond its healing usefulness.
I was there to release fear, always fear. Because as soon as I think I'm the bravest mama in the world, something new creeps up and scares the holy beejeesus out of me and I have to learn to release that one.
I went to meet up with ego voices and the higher selves of those I share conflict with, to sit with them at the confrontation table of trance and heat, and to listen, and receive an understanding between us, and from higher Selves and guides, about how to proceed.
I went for messages from my ancestors about the things I have no control over- time-related grievances that can only be understood and accepted outside of the castle of time, in the deep and magical forest of trust and *always*.
I've carried many heavy burdens this year, as a year tends to pile up on a being, and this time of Peace on Earth is the perfect occasion to lighten the load and cultivate peace within. I felt called to sit in the lodge as the rain pelted the exterior, chanting and prayer-speaking in unison with fourteen others.
And I went to crawl out.
Exiting a sweat lodge feels like being born. Imagine the energy and heat that accumulates as we are making our way into this world. A Midwinter sweat, with it's focused intention and collective vision charges a lodge likewise. So as anticipated, I crawled out in the end, soaking wet and mostly naked, stopping to bless the Earth and my relations with my forehead to the wet ground, and stepped out into the darkness and cold winter rain outside the flap.
I went to brighten my soul up, release the funk, and ready my skin for the new year. My voice felt and sounded extra clear as I chatted and ate like a horse at the feast afterwards in the kitchen of the Firekeeper, who'd asked me to create a heartbeat while inside with one of his drums, at the instruction of the water-pourer. A huge honor.
A very young first time sweater spoke at the closing circle, saying that when he came in to get dressed, he'd studied himself in the mirror and noticed that something had transformed. His eyes were more...sparkly. He felt alive in a really different kind of way. It's no wonder the ancestors created so many roads to rise up and meet the Spirit. And it's not a bit surprising that so many of us are finding our ways back to them.
