(My ability to write is quite blocked these days. My family has entered a ‘dance with the doctors’ at the same time I am noticing how juicy and tasty and full of big flavors and subtle colors life is. I want to write, and to process… and I cannot. Yet I want the beautiful contrasts to keep showing up and to not shrink from the Rich Pageant of Life just because it is getting scary, just because so much is unknown. Here is a small attempt to… thread together a metaphor.)
Temazcals~ by design and materials~ are crucibles. There might not be molten metal collecting in the base of the fire pit, but there is a molten quality that arises during the ritual hours of a good sweat. The shape of the lodge and the skill of the guides helps create and ‘hold’ the crucible shape while all that alchemical stuff is happening inside the people gathered around the circle.
I have experienced yogasana, kriya, pranayama and meditation practices that left me feeling as though my once pliant mat had become this rigid, walled and lidded vessel into which all my doubts or confusions had been poured and remolded, burnt off and blown away.
By simply living life with receptors open, we cannot help but step into fire
and on occasion be tested.
Right before I was to go into my 3rd temazcal of the month, a medical situation arose in my immediate family, and in one phone call, everything changed. More calls and texts followed, then a crippling migraine kept me from going into the sweat. I had expressed some trepidation about this final temazcal to my husband. So much had happened for me in the first two; ‘stuff’ had gotten burned away, some deep places had been explored, and a kind of interior calm and strength had been located. I had the sense that the next one was going to push me hard, that there were important insights waiting in that dark. I felt a little fearful, but ready. And then, in one phone call, everything changed.
And that’s as far as I got.