A Sweat Lodge in the Jungle
My body began to seize and my limbs became numb. I felt like I had no more sweat to give. I eventually lost all feeling throughout my entire body. I hung with this feeling for as long as I possibly could. I wanted to hang in’ there until the end but I knew I had to leave soon. The man to my right had already surrendered.
More stones came. More water. More heat. More steam. Complete loss of feeling in my whole body. I urinated myself. I could no longer hold myself up.
The space heater warmed the room as we sat crossed legged on my bedroom floor, the first of the new year was just minutes away as fireworks across Brooklyn would soon rattle the streets. (I was in a brief-lasting relationship with a girl I had met upon my return from Europe a few months back. Our relationship together was short and intense, much like this experience you will read). Excitement brewed within us as we were hours away from our 9 day escapade through the Yucatan Peninsula. A trip we had planned since November, marking our first international journey together.
24 hours later we arrived in Tulum, or as I call it, the New York City of the Yucatan. I’ll just say it: Tulum is an overdeveloped shit-hole. A town once praised for it’s sweet local charm turned over-touristic and ran by selfie sticks, littered streets, overpriced food and Instagram models. As nature lovers, this was hard to swallow.
My expectations got the best of me as we sat in our Cabana that night feeling a bit triggered. The beaches were so crowded to the point that parking spaces were non-existent and merchants charged the highest dollar (simply because they could get away with it).
Fortunately, our week in Mexico was saved by the town of Bacalar, two hours south of Tulum. A small town on a crystal clear laguna that had opened it’s doors to tourism only a few years ago. We ended up staying off-the-grid and secluded on the north side of the laguna with our own private dock and access to authentic culture and incredible food. An overall calm, healing environment. Completely opposite of Tulum.
Now back to our first night sitting in our cabana after a long day of traveling. Little did we know the following night would hold a gravely detoxing, spiritually uplifting, mind-cleansing and ego-pulverizing experience in the jungle.
Our AirBnB host, Gabo, invited us to his monthly sweat lodge ceremony.
“Two spaces opened up, and I would love for you two to come” He said before he sent us to bed. We were sold.
His long natural hair (silvered from age) swayed from the grip of his bandana as his loose fitting yoga pants and worn out button up showed his easy-going vibe. Talking to him was fun. A North Mexican native from a town called Chihuahua, Gabo had the accent and the authenticity that Tulum failed to have.
Gabo owns an acre of jungle land 15 minutes outside of town. The way he described the ceremony made it impossible to pass up, AND it was a full moon.
The next night we drove to Gabo’s secluded land in the jungle. When we arrived we parked where he instructed us to, in the corner between two bushes just a short walk away from the entrance of where the ceremony would take place.
The sun had fallen and the only light were of the moon and the stars. We approached a wooden fence with a fire crackling in the distance. We knocked on the door and a Mexican man opened it and quickly gestured us in. There was another man tending to the fire, both men did not speak English. Then out came Gabo, dressed in his loosely fitting robe attire with a bandana once again.
He had us remove our sandals before entering the space which he referred to as the “sacred space”. He led us down a narrow, bushy dirt path where we were met by a ground alter consisting of stones, sticks, various crystals, symbols drawn in the dirt, and a few bright juicy oranges, all encircled by half-folded white towels marking our seats. The lodge sat to the right of the untamed space as the fire blazed to the left. The two Mexican men stoically hustled to increase the fire’s depth, poking it with their long metal forks as the light grazed their stone-like faces in the dark night. Ashley and I sat next to each other, crossed legged. There were two other women in the circle as well, and shortly after came two men. Ironically, all 6 of us live in Brooklyn. Strange. We awaited Gabo as he finalized his last minute preparations before taking his seat at the head of the alter.
He sat tall.
After a some welcoming words and a couple laughs to relax our nerves, he began the ceremony.
First, he guided us through a meditation where we focused on the sounds of the fire besides us, grounding us to the present moment and preparing our minds for the 4 hour ceremony. The meditation was followed by chants to honor fire, water, Earth, the moon, and to summon the spiritual essence of his ancestors or “Abuelas”.
He then had us stand and walk clockwise around the alter, keeping our eyes fixated on his simple yet impactful creation. We continued chanting, repeating his mantras. I felt myself sink into the ritualistic trance, the crackling fire behind us and the vibrancy of the moon above us. I felt tuned in, focused, and connected to the purpose of this ceremony and the nature around me.
I’ve been to a few “ceremonies” throughout the beginning of my yoga & Thai massage days so I feel aware of the differences between authentic and pseudo healing / spirituality. From exploring various healing modalities and being exposed to various groups, “religious” celebrations and cults perceived as “yogic”, to holistic workshops, sound baths, “re-birthing” rituals and the like.
So far, Gabo struck me as authentic. He wasn’t trying to show off or prove himself. He knew he had indigenous knowledge and a purpose to lead and he was simply sharing it. A simple trait I always appreciate though nearly impossible to find in Western culture given the seduction to “spiritually” lead for ulterior motives - to feed ego, make a ton of money or collect Instagram followers. Gabo had no Instagram and was hardly profiting on this experience from our donations. I digress.
Before we entered the actual sweat lodge, he lead one last prayer and meticulously ordered us in a single file line placing the women first and myself behind Ashley with the two other men behind me. Everything was slow and done with intention.
I reached for Ashley’s hand and squeezed, she squeezed back.
The lodge itself was a circular structure shaped like a tipi with thick blankets (saltillo serapes) draped over the top and along the sides. He individually blessed us before we crawled on our hands and knees through the small opening and followed his instructions exactly where to sit.
Once inside, cross-legged and knee to knee, we were ready for the unknown. The soil beneath us was a comfortable mixture of dirt and sand. I felt Ashley’s hand on my knee as I rest my hand on top of hers, a silent “we got this.” There was something nerve wracking about being in a small enclosed space in a foreign country with a guy I barely knew with a fire pit and no emergency exit.
Gabo crawled in and closed the wooden “door” behind him. It was already humid inside the enclosure. He kept his presence light and humorous yet firmly in-tuned to spirit. At this point he had earned my trust. After some more talking and chanting he craned his neck and shouted “La puerta por favor!” the Mexican men yanked opened the door. “We are ready for the Abuelas!” “Listo!”
Then came the first stone. Then the second. The Mexican men provided that extra protection, a “safe” feeling that kept my mind at ease. They were the fire-keepers and worked together to shovel the stones one by one through the tight opening as Gabo guided the stones inside the pit, plopping them down exactly where they needed to go just inches from our knees. I could feel the heat of each stone burn the tips of my shin hairs. It was hot, yet comforting as I began to sweat - profusely perspiring into the soil beneath me as it absorbed into the Earth.
The rest of the night was a blur but it went something like this:
More stones funneled in by the fire-keepers, loud chanting, singing by Gabo, collective yelling/purging, voicing our innermost intentions out loud in the circle, feeling water splashed on us by Gabo, more stones, more water, copious amounts of sweat, more chanting, more stones, more heat, humidity, rising temperatures, water, purging, *now screaming our intentions*, detoxifying, more sweat, releasing in the form of laughter, tears, emotional purging, feeling strong yet weak, spirit strong flesh weak, feeling out of my body, the temperature rising…rising…rising…
“OHHHH SACRED FIRE PURIFY MYSELF, OHHHHH SACRED WATER WASH AWAY MY FEARS” is what we chanted the most, followed by the healthy yell “OMETEOTL!” the name of the Mayan God of duality.
Each stone that was placed in the pit brought more heat and the water that splashed the stones created a thick, almost suffocating steam. Gabo would call out to the fire-keepers whenever a new stone needed to be placed in the pit, referring to each stone as “Abuela”.
The ceremony became increasing intense. Eventually, my body began to seize and my limbs became numb. I felt like I had no more sweat to give. I eventually lost all feeling in my throughout my entire body, including my head and face. I hung with this feeling for as long as I possibly could. I wanted to hang in’ there until the end but I knew I had to leave soon. The man to my right had already surrendered.
More stones came. More water. More heat. More steam.
Complete loss of feeling in my whole body.
I urinated myself.
I could no longer hold myself up. Even Ashley felt my struggle.
I lasted a few minutes longer, hoping the ceremony would end soon, while knowing this mindset of hoping it would end soon was defeating the purpose of the ceremony.
The vibrating numbness in my body exasperated to the point where I knew it was time to give in. I slowly lowered my torso down to the floor as I buried the side of my face in the soil, panting. Sand and dirt stuck to my shaved head like velcro, sweat still coming from my pores.
Gabo noticed by state and calmly escorted me out of the lodge and guided me back to the alter, slowly crawling on my hands and knees.
He peeled an orange from the alter and hand-fed me slice after slice, rubbing my back and assuring me how great I did. “Breathe, brother, breathe.” I slowly regained feeling in my body and limbs. “These are heavy metals leaving your body”.
As Gabo cared for me outside the third man made his way out, too. Leaving the 3 women in the lodge as the lone warriors. Ashley told me afterwards that she shared a quote that came to her during this time when Gabo was assisting us men. “What matters most is how well you walk through the fire” using that as her mantra, knowing that she wasn’t going to give up - that time was still going, meaning it would soon be over. Ashley shared to me that “time” gets her through a lot of things.
The fact that 3 women remained the lodge symbolizes the strength of the female. As I have learned in my bodywork practice women naturally have a higher pain tolerance than men. It makes sense given women are the lifeblood of life as we know it, the holders of creation naturally equipped to withstand pain and discomfort.
Gabo cared for the 3rd man then eventually went back in. I sat cross legged to catch my breath and restore feeling in my body.
I thought about New York City and shook my head in disgust. “That damn city, man. So polluted. So much shit.” The desire to detoxify myself soared as I stared at the stars and moon above me in the clear night sky, the fire crackling beside me. I prayed to the stars, to the sky, and to the moon, that I would have more days in my future to gaze upon the stars and the moon with a fire crackling beside me.
Approaching my 27th birthday and living in a place that was complete opposite of nature did not sit well with me. I visualized myself living in nature, calming my nervous system, being kind to myself, drinking clean water, eating locally grown food, breathing clean air, swimming, hiking, climbing. At that moment it became clear to me what I needed to do. This was a wake-up call for my future. I vowed to myself right then and there.
Covered in dirt, sand, sweat, and urine, I wanted nothing else. I felt natural. I felt raw. I felt tribal. In touch. This was truth. Sacredness.
I will never forget that moment.
Gabo peeked his head from the lodge and invited me back in for the closing ceremony. As I crawled back in and sat next to Ashley again I looked her in the eyes and smiled. She smiled back. She looked fierce, humble, confident. I knew she had benefited from the ceremony just as much as I did.
In that moment I felt my love for Ashley strengthen and the knot in our union squeeze a little tighter.
Ashley told me later that she realized what we take for granted. The most vital things in life: air and water, are things we take for granted. We breathe shallowly throughout our days and waste so much water. She remembered when each time someone would have to leave the lodge and the “door” would open, she felt a cool breeze from the outside slip in as if it were the first time she experienced fresh air. And the water, the way Gabo splashed her was like the first time experiencing water.
Upon the conclusion of the ceremony we sat by the fire and continued to gaze at the moon and stars, taking our time to leave.
As we drove back to our tent my vision was clear. I even saw the road more clear, perhaps symbolizing my future and what I had just experienced.
We showered off and changed into comfy clothes. A whole new world awaited us.
And then we ate burritos. And they were delicious. And in that moment, all was well in the world.
