The Social NetWorker

Inside the Sweat Lodge, Self-Work and Spirituality

(This is a guest post by Megan Elizabeth Morris.)

They described the sweat lodge as being representative of the womb; a safe place where we could revert to our original selves, the way we were when we were born.

We crawled through the door on our hands and knees, some of us carrying towels to sit on, and moved around the pit sunwise -- starting at our left and circling around to the right -- to sit. The water pourer, the one who leads the ceremony, explained many things as we went; he talked about Native American symbolism and totems, told us that we could leave at any time but it was preferred to leave when the door was open between rounds, I suspect to avoid interrupting the meditations of others.

He told us that getting close to the ground was a good way to deal with the heat if it was too intense, and he was right, the ground was very cool (if, well, dirty!). Pouring with sweat is almost like being washed, and if you've ever been in an intense sauna you know that it's cleansing, so I found myself unconcerned with the dirt. When you feel very, very safe, little things like dirt don't make such a difference.

In all of the sweats I've participated in, the water pourer has talked about the heat and the sweating as giving something away -- giving something voluntarily from ourselves to honor something bigger than us. There's no possible chance that I understand it fully, but this still tugged at me. Like that tenet of Burning Man and Burning Flipside, the concept of generosity for the sake of generosity reasonates. This is a place where the sweat lodge ceremony overlaps heavily with social work, for me -- likely for many people. Giving something away.

More hot stones were brought in at the beginning of each of four rounds, so of course the lodge got hotter as we went. When asked how long a typical sweat lodge ceremony is, everyone I've heard answer says that it's "more of a timeless sort of thing," and they're not kidding. I don't think this is something I could do if I were waiting for it to be over. (That seems like part of the giving of oneself, too.)

Different ceremonies seem to focus on different things. The first sweat I participated in, more than a year ago, was a "life purpose" sweat. In May, there was a sweat to bless the lodge and one with a visualization to find an animal totem. The sweat I joined in June didn't have a particular focus, but still it was intense and enlightening in many ways. In all of the sweat lodge ceremonies, I learned more about the directions in Native American traditions -- North, South, East, West -- and the colors and animals and concepts associated with them. We talked about relationships, and boundaries (and there again is another wonderful social work overlap). Participants released their fears and hopes and we sang songs and hummed. Singing made the heat easier to take, for some reason. Sometimes the water pourer had a drum, or a rattle. Sometimes it was just us and our voices in the dark.

The sweat lodge ceremony is clearly a profoundly spiritual thing, and I have never been an overtly spiritual person. More and more, though, I find that much of my actual spirituality lies in a powerful respect for self-work, a longing for my own potential and for the ability of others to realize theirs, and a deference towards connection -- between people, between us and the world around us, connecting everything. I have never before considered that these things could comprise a spiritual inclination on my part, and I'm only just beginning to explore it.

But man, it sure is something.

Megan Elizabeth Morris (email)
Ms. Morris writes at Personal Revelations of the Magnificent Megan M. Megan Elizabeth Morris, or The Magnificent Megan M., [proper noun]: Superhuman font of knowledge, skill, determination & resourcefulness. Exudes enzymes that cause others to surpass their potential. Master thinker; writes, designs, manages, ideastorms, markets, inspires, connects, grows, teaches, makes things happen, changes the world, and throws a mean right hook. (Okay. Not the last one. Well! Not literally.)