Temazcal

I left the house on my bicycle under the glow of the full moon last weekend to participate in a Temazcal.  The ancient Mayans held Temazcals before battle to strengthen the warriors and cleanse their body and spirit.  Now, we use them similarly but to enter the battles of every day modern life. 

I joined a group of people around the fire at 9:30 and we warmed our bodies with the rising flames.  We cast shadows, lit from above by the spectacular full moon.  I looked up at the majestic cobalt blue sky as the flames rose above the volcanic rocks they were heating. For the temazcal, the Shaman and his fire keeper heat these volcanic rocks that represent grandmothers.  Carlos, our Shaman, explained, “they come from the center and the history of the earth.  They know us and they will care for us and cleanse our spirit as they give their heat, their energy, to the temazcal.  It is female medicine”.  He finished the sentence referring to the structure of the temazcal and how it is circular to represent the womb.

Then he continued, “And this is the male medicine”, pointing to the fire in front of the temazcal where we stood and formed a circle.

Carlos explained, “we have the male and the female, the ying and the yang.  My people call it ‘om a teo’, the darkness and the light, the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. We can say this each time we bring in a grandmother.  They are there”, he said pointing to the fire.  “They will help us and let us be reborn”, in the temazcal. 

Then Carlos lit copal in a copalero, a metal challace of sorts made just for burning this local incense.  He started to sing as he put crystals into the copalero and began passing the smoke of the copal around our bodies to cleanse our energy and aura. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent and the intention of the process. After he cleansed each one of us we entered the temazcal.  I went first, walking around the fire in a clockwise direction and then bending on all fours like a baby to enter the low entryway.  I touched my forehead to the ground before I crawled in from the left and moved clumsily across the sand floor to the far right corner where I sat and waited for the others to follow and fill the space.  Carlos entered last and asked for the stones, “piedras”. The fire master pushed a large grey stone into the middle of our circle.  Two more abuelas followed and afterwards, a large bucket of water.  Then the firemaster closed the opening with several blankets.  The room became dark and started to heat.  The temazcal had begun. 

There are four doors to the Temazcal, each representing an orientation of the earth.  We saluted each orientation before entering and with each Carlos blew into a large conch shell to salute and waken the spirits of the east, west, north and south. 

“My people use the word”, Carlos began in a soft voice but one we can all hear in the small dark space.  He follows his voice with some drum beats.

“The word is powerful and helps us to share” he told us, then hit his drum like a beat poet and continued, “so we will start by introducing ourselves.  I am Carlos, my spiritual name is Mist on the Morning.  I am from Mexico City; of the Aztec culture.  I ask the abuelas to cleanse my spirit and energy”.

“Om a teo” I said when he finished. I learned this from him and I love saying it.  I am not sure why but I just do. 

We went around the room, introducing ourselves.  We are not as eloquent as Carlos, with names like, “Mist on the Morning”.  But we all had intentions that were equally poignant.   We were from the United States, all the others from California. Our tradition is not the always word.  I was last.  I was a blow in of sorts, happy to be invited, having organized the event.  “I am Joanne", I said and then added, "not from California”, we laugh. “My spirit name is ‘Sadness lifting’".  No one laughs.  I love saying that.  In the temazcal my sadness always lifts.  The temazcal gives me a joy that is hard to follow.  That is why I ask to be invited with each group I organize.  These sweat lodges fill my heart with joy while they cleanse my spirit.

When I finished, Carlos told us, “We will talk more and each time it will be easier”, he explained as he threw water onto the fire and steam rose with the smell of herbs. “we gonna learn a little more, share a little more.  It is the way we know the spirit of the other.  We share words. Words are medicine.  Words have power”, he continued.

This resonated with me, of course. I am a writer.  “Om a teo” I say as Carlos smiled at me and started to sing.  We began to sweat.  Carlos encouraged the heat to rise by throwing wet herbs on the fire and then more water.  Steam rose and with it heat, the medicine from the grandmothers.

Gradually, we all sang, chanted,  sweated and shared our words, our power.  We shared the people we wanted to remember, what we wanted in our lives in that moment, what we were thankful for and gradually, we formed a bond. Water was everywhere: in the steam over the fire as it rises onto the air and on our bodies glistening in the darkness, lit only by the fire and in the water laden herbs that Carlos tossed onto our bodies: copal and rhuda, local herbs that cleanse the spirit. 

And with the water and the heat we moved through each door without moving our bodies.  East represents birth and new beginnings.  West is the child, growth.  North is death and endings and south is rebirth.    Each door was full of songs and heat and at the end of each we yelled, “Puerta!” to open the door and bring in coolness for a few moments before another grandmother entered with more heat and more healing.

At the end we left the way we came in, on all fours like a baby, one by one, touching our heads to the floor before the fire master offered each person a hand to help them to their feet.  We then gathered by the fire.  The night air had grown cool.  It was intoxicating.  I felt light, free and happy as we waited together by the fire for Carlos to lead us to the water.  We moved slowly into the coolness of the dark night Caribbean and I went under with a wave.  The others did the same.  We rinsed sweat, cares, heaviness, anything we intended to let go of in the temazcal.  Anything the abuelas helped us take off to lighten our journey.