(9) Shamans Visit - Long Hair Roots Part 2

"SWEAT LODGE"  by David Joaquin 

The teepee filled more and more with the ritualistic smoke as ceremony removed all hints of time.  There was a rich smell of wood laced with a mixture of herbs.  Saadi recognized sage and flowers as well as an aromatic rustic earthy scent.  It was pungent like the smell of marijuana.   She learned later that the pungent smell was sage, often used to purify and heal spaces.  Saadi had never smelled these scents together.  They didn’t cloud her head instead they cleared it and she felt more relaxed. 

The interior was close but not choking or cloying.  Every once in a while Saadi would put her head down on the blanket bringing her face close to the cold earth.  It was very soothing and kept her head clear, abating any fear of confinement as she nestled in the deep recesses of the darkness. 

The shaman began to speak.  She told them to close their eyes and in their minds to gradually descend into a deep cavern. Once there, they were to give form to their doubts and fears.  Saadi’s doubt and fear had no features.  It was just a filled in stick person, a jet-black form with no gender characteristics, no hair or clothes.  Saadi could see it well in her mind’s eye.

They had to imagine the entity coming up a long passageway.  Saadi imagined a passage like the one in the Egyptian Book of the Dead; a long path spirits travel on their journeys to the afterlife once they were buried in the great pyramids.  The climb was very scary, completely dark, pitch black, with a steep passage. Saadi could feel the cavern walls close in around her.  As she continued the climb her darkened form gradually began to fill with colors.  By the time she reached the top of the passageway she was filled with glistening colors, cascading variations and bursts of light that changed with each and every motion.

  

Guided by the shaman’s voice Saadi got to the opening at the end of the passage. She had a sense of relief.  She could leave this close space. However at the opening she realizes there is nowhere to go.  It’s a cliff.  She must jump off.  Saadi hesitates but the voice of the shaman is so seductive, all things are possible.  Saadi jumps ready for the fall.

Instead of plunging to the depths, the shaman instructs them to hold themselves aloft and for a few moments Saadi feels herself hovering in the air like a diver jumping off a diving board.  She feels so free. “Now you are ready to fly,” the shaman intones, “Take off!”  Saadi begins to fly, to soar, to release.  “I can fly!  I am free!”

Saadi felt a birthing.  She witnessed her doubt transform from a black generic shape into a technicolor being that flew! Wow!

After the ceremony all of the participants shared food they had brought. It was a good ole fashioned southern potluck. Folks were sitting all around the shaman’s house talking and laughing.  Some lounged, others sat crossed legged.  In the kitchen people stood while others sat at the large central table.  Organic goodies were everywhere, blue corn tortilla chips, hummus, sauteed tofu with onions and greens, fruit, nuts, juices, breads and rennetless cheese.  Everyone seemed so close to each other.  Saadi now saw a few more Blacks and sure wished she could talk about this new experience with them. 

As Black people we are so deeply spiritual yet it seems to be our karmic challenge, our strength and weakness.  We seem afraid to explore anything outside of our own known, condoned and approved areas of spiritual expression, namely the Christian church. Is Christianity the only path?  Wasn’t it worth it to explore the test of truth?  What could be lost?  Surely God would not strike you down for having a seeking spirit.

Still, Saadi never saw many Blacks at spiritual events outside the church and she didn’t talk to very many Christians about alternative forms of spiritual investigations. Sweatlodges, chanting, or things that might be considered “pagan”, a word  synonymous with "sin" in the Christian arena, seemed to be considered hands off.  Most Christians appeared content with staying within the narrow parameters of the Kings James version of the Bible. They didn’t even want to consider the possibility of other Bible versions, versions other than the one that King James deemed himself fit to oversee.

The sweatlodge experience was truly spiritual. She felt cleansed and clear.  She felt ready to start looking at her life.  She had much to learn and much to do.  As she left she thanked the shaman and told her she wanted to come back again as her quest took more shape and form.