Into the Fire of the Sweat Lodge | Whole Life Times — Los Angeles Holistic Health Magazine

Since its January opening, spa-goers have been sweating in style inside infrared sleeping bags at Larchmont’s Shape House—an “urban sweat lodge” geared to the luxury detox crowd. But for those interested in a transformative experience more rooted in spirituality—one you won’t see on Daily Candy any time soon—consider trying a traditional sweat lodge (or temazcal, as it’s known in Mexico). Though the cleansing ritual varies somewhat across cultures, sweat lodges typically take place inside a small hut heated by hot rocks and involve a prayer ceremony led by a shaman or other spiritual leader. And they’re happening right here in Los Angeles, though often under-the-radar and shared mostly by word of mouth. Currently, regular sweat lodge gatherings can be found in Thousand Oaks, Encino, Pasadena, and Malibu (at the Wright Land).

LA-based yoga teacher Erin Kirk still vividly remembers her first sweat lodge experience in Ojai 14 years ago: “It was a very ancient, authentic Native American-run sweat lodge,” she recalls. “I remember putting dirt up my nose to keep my nostrils from burning. We were packed in there—bodies on top of bodies, singing and chanting. I was so surprised with the prayers that came out of me; it’s amazing what comes up when you’re confronted with that heat.”

What to Expect

The symbolism behind the sweat lodge is the idea of rebirth. “The metaphor is about crawling back into the womb of Mother Earth to be reborn,” explains Patrick Harbula, a spiritual teacher who hosts sweat lodges once a month at his private property in Thousand Oaks. “When you come out, you see the world in a whole new light.”

That was the case for Kirk—her experience made so deep an impact that she has been offering monthly sweat lodges in Pasadena for the last eight years. Influenced by the Native American tradition, both she and Harbula follow a somewhat similar structure for their ceremonies. Each leads the group in four rounds of prayer: the first for self, the second for others, the third identifying special gifts one can give to the world, and the fourth a guided meditation. Between rounds, more heated rocks are brought in, creating a progressively hotter environment.

“I like to feel spirituality in my physical body—the heat that happens in the sweat lodge, sitting right on Mother Earth,” explains Harbula. “I’m a minister, but I’d much rather be in a sweat lodge than in a church. At a Sunday service you might get a little bored or tired, but that could never happen in a sweat lodge. The heat requires you to be completely focused.”

Chanting, singing, and/or drumming are other common elements of the sweat lodge ritual, which typically takes anywhere from one to three hours. A unique aspect of Kirk’s rituals is, “We do a primal scream, which turns into loud screaming and howling at the moon. A sound bath ends up happening and it just might be the most powerful part of the sweat lodge.”

The actual setup for most sweat lodges is simple. An outdoor tent-like structure is created from bent saplings or branches lashed together, then covered with wool blankets (historically it was animal hides) to seal in the heat. There may be a simple nondenominational altar adjacent to the fire pit that heats the rocks, which are gradually brought inside the lodge by the “firekeeper.” After the ceremony starts, water, sometimes infused with healing herbs such as rosemary, is intermittently poured over the rocks for hydration and to intensify the heat. If it’s a co-ed lodge, traditionally women will be sitting on one side and men on the other.

As for who comes to the sweat lodge, Kirk says her monthly gatherings have attracted everyone from yoga practitioners to “stressed-out parents and CEOs,” to celebrities such as Jennie Garth and Brandy. Additionally, many in the recovery community have found sweats to be useful. The common thread among all? People seeking clarity and community.

“You’d be surprised at who is attracted to this because it’s a chance to feel connected,” says Kirk. “People of all types are very hungry for a heart-centered bonding experience.

Spiritual Catharsis & Other Benefits

One of the biggest takeaways from a sweat lodge is the emotional release that accompanies it. While praying, it is typical to go around the circle with each person taking turns sharing. Because it is very dark inside and the spiritual presence is potent, many people say things they’ve never said aloud before. “The energy and frequency rise, and people end up speaking through their souls,” says Harbula. “It creates a very safe space for people.”
Kirk agrees. “There are a lot of tears,” she says. “Some people leave the lodge and feel sick because there is a lot of personal stuff that has been dislodged. You feel cleansed.”

********************
Like what you’re reading? Sign up now to get Whole Life Times free bimonthly issues e-mailed to your inbox.

********************

Being inside a sweat lodge may afford physical benefits as well. According to Carlos Ochoa, spa manager at Barcelo Maya Beach Resort in Mexico’s Riviera Maya, people who visit the spa’s authentic on-site temazcal benefit from improved blood circulation and a more relaxed nervous system, as well as the elimination of toxins. For women, it can even lessen the symptoms of PMS.

“We believe in strengthening the human power with the elements,” says Ochoa. “[The ritual] creates good vibrations for Mother Earth and to everyone [taking part].”

Risk and Reward

Though many who’ve tried sweat lodges espouse their physical and emotional benefits, the experience isn’t necessarily for everyone.

It’s vital to find a knowledgeable leader to ensure that your sweat lodge experience will be safe and well run. The most prominent cautionary tale happened back in 2009, when three people died and 15 were injured in a Sedona sweat lodge ceremony at Angel Valley led by self-styled guru James Arthur Ray. Reports said that attendees, many of whom had paid $10,000 to be there, weren’t allowed to leave despite a number of people passing out, experiencing extreme dehydration, or having other negative side effects during the ritual.

“The reason people died was that it was conducted in a completely unsafe way,” says Harbula. “The idea of pushing beyond your barriers is really the opposite of the way a sacred lodge is supposed to be conducted. Instead, you’re supposed to be in harmony with your body, Mother Earth, and nature. It’s not about pushing yourself, though it can be about surrender.”

Kirk has another theory for why the sweat lodge went awry. She once led a retreat on the same Sedona land years ago and had inquired about hosting a sweat lodge, but was told that a Native American curse prohibited it. In fact, the wind had even recently blown one of the sweat lodge huts into the river. “They believe that the Native Americans don’t support white men leading the ritual on that land,” says Kirk. “There is a very big respect you have to pay to these rituals. Always understand the energy you’re calling in, and respect the land and the elders.” The concern here may be legal as well: the Lakota nation introduced several lawsuits after the Angel Valley incident, claiming the deaths had desecrated their ceremony and their land in violation of the Sioux Treaty of 1868.
For those apprehensive about heat levels, Harbula urges that they “use the heat as an ally to take them to a transcendent place. Unless they can transcend, people who don’t like heat or dark, enclosed places probably won’t like it.” Kirk agrees, saying that she encourages attendees to stay hydrated and know that they can exit if need be: “It’s important for people to know they’re not trapped.”

Overall, it’s an experience that Barcelo Maya’s Ochoa feels everyone should consider. “This has been in our culture for centuries,” says Ochoa. “It is something everyone should try at least once.”