Good Ole Fashion Soul Cleansin'

Sweat lodges have an interesting history evolving from ceremonial cleansing experiences into rooms built off of pools in spas and mansions. The Inipi is a ceremony established by the Lakota tribe using a dome frame made of saplings and covered with hides or blankets. Rocks are heated over a fire and then brought inside the shelter where they have water poured over them creating tons of steam. Off of Halfmoon Pond in New Hampshire, there is a place called the Peninsula, one of the only places where I can always find myself at peace. It was here that I had the pleasure of having an inipi with several of my friends on a cool summer night.

We sat around the crackling fire, they sipped beer out of their nalgenes and being only nineteen or twenty at the time they were hesitant to let me have any since we could get fired. Most of the time I wouldn't care about alcohol when I was underaged, but this night had awoken that adolescent rebelliousness of doing something just because I shouldn't. I wanted to have a sip and fit in, so that it could be that time I drank with twenty-somethings around a fire in the woods. I've always liked the culture of drinking and what it does to social interactions. It can be a peacemaker between guys after a fight, or a way of showing romantic or rather sexual interest in a stranger at a bar. Once we got the rocks heated we took to our duties to get the inipi running. Due to lack of animal pelts available we had to use a tarp which worked just fine for us. I was in charge of carrying the heavy hot rocks on a shovel into the inipi which I enjoyed because I felt it proved my worth, not just some scrawny kid but a worker.

The steam was so thick we could hardly see our neighbors under the polyethlene tarp, sitting in just our undies sweating out of every pore. Bringing the burning rocks in grew harder as we had to avoid the half-naked people while crouching through a small door frame into the fog. After around forty five minutes the last two of our group showed up having missed the turn in the woods travelling by the light of one headlamp. I felt like an amphibian from the even glaze of sweat covering me, but once they had enjoyed it enough, we went out into the fresh air and waded into the pond. Usually I am hesitant about such things because the pool is always freezing after the hot tub, but this was cleansing beyond belief. Mother Nature had given me a second baptism and I was born again. I felt so purely cleansed and new. Then as the ultimate cherry on top, my friend started singing Down in the river to pray from the O Brother Where Art Thou? Soundtrack, which happens to be one of my favorite songs of all times. I joined in with a low mumble just getting lost in the moment. This was a moment that summers are made of. The kind of memory I cherish and will fondly think back on when I get older and summer loses the magic of being youthful.

If you don't know the song I'm talking about take a listen here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgVL-rBq9Fw

And if you have a better story, you can one up me by emailing it to thegettingthere@gmail.com