In December 1998, I had the privilege of being able to take part in an inipi ceremony, hosted by a group who follow the religious traditions of the Lakota Sioux. Since I have been curious about Native American religion, but had never had an opportunity to observe any of its rituals firsthand, I eagerly accepted the invitation extended by my friend and coworker, Jill. This ceremony, which is also known as the sweat lodge ceremony, is an important part of the Lakota tradition. Its purpose is purification of mind and body as well as being a time to pray and give thanks.

The ceremony took place in rural central Ohio on 13 December 1998 at 1:00 p.m. It was a beautiful day, quite chilly but sunny. I am not sure whether the group had taken into consideration the astrological correspondences when planning the date and time to do this purification and prayer ritual, but I found it to be perfectly appropriate. It was held during the last quarter of the Moon (a time of banishing and cleansing) while the Moon was in the sign of Libra (which increases self-awareness and is a good time for interaction with others). It was also good timing on a personal level, since my menstrual cycle was coming to an end.

The ceremony took place in a small lodge, constructed in the traditional Lakota way. Its frame was made of bent saplings, lashed together to make a dome roughly 15 feet in diameter. This frame was covered with several heavy layers of canvas and weighted down with stones. The lodge had only one entrance, which faced West. About a yard to the west of the lodge, positioned directly in front of the door, stood a large, flat-topped stone that served as an altar. This was used as a place to leave objects for purification. Tradition dictates that gifts--usually tobacco or herbs--be brought to the people serving as fire-tender and water-dipper during the ceremony and these were also left on the altar. Rick invited me to place anything I would like on the altar stone, telling me that it was not mandatory.

Looking still westward, approximately a yard away from the altar was a large fire pit, in which rocks are heated for use inside the lodge. Rick, our host, knowing that I had never participated in an inipi ceremony before, took time to explain to me that the area between the lodge and the fire pit was called the Spirit Path because the Spirits would be traveling back and forth along it during the ritual. He also explained that the staff positioned atop the altar was to invoke both Bear and Hawk energy into the lodge, since those are the two animal totems with which he works most often.

Before the ritual actually began, two of the men took a pipe, which is called a chanupa, into the lodge. Jill explained to me later that the chanupa is extremely sacred to the Lakota. It is considered a great honor to be allowed to smoke from a chanupa, especially if it is made of pipestone like the one we used in the inipi ceremony. This pipe is stored in two pieces, wrapped in red felt and placed in a pouch where it is kept out of sight unless being used in a Lakota ritual. When the bowl and pipe are connected, it is considered to be a symbol of the union of the male and female principles.

John and Fred packed the bowl of the pipe full of herbs, including lungwort, mullein, and tobacco while offering prayers to Wankan Tanka. Most often addressed as Grandfather, Wankan Tanka is the Great Spirit in Sioux tradition. In their prayers, the men explained that our intent was both purification and healing and asking for His blessing upon the ritual. Once the prayers were finished and the pipe was ready, it was placed upon the altar to act as a channel, allowing Wankan Tanka to easily hear all that we would be doing in the sweat lodge.

He had requested that we enter in a specific order, with Fred--the man who had packed the chanupa--behind him. Kamalika, Fred's half-side (or mate), Jill, and I crawled inside next. The rest of the men filed in behind us, with John, who was to fulfill the duties of fire-tender, bringing up the rear. I was curious to find out if Rick's seating arrangement was traditional. Jill told me that, other than having the water-dipper and fire-tender by the door, there is no rule about seating the participants. Rick likes to have as much of a male-female balance of energy within the lodge as is possible. In our particular ceremony, we were almost completely balanced, with 3 women and 5 men.

When everyone was comfortable--as comfortable as one can get sitting on damp mats atop the freezing cold earth while barefoot and half-naked--Rick called for the first seven rocks to be brought into the lodge. These stones represented the seven elements of the Sioux tradition: the four cardinal directions, Mother Earth, Father Sky, and Wankan Tanka. He requested total silence to show respect for these Grandfathers as John brought them in from the fire.

After a short break, the door was closed again and we began the second round of the ceremony. Again, everyone--except me--chanted as Jim drummed. From the explanation that Rick had given me about the purpose of each round, I knew that the chants were prayers to Wankan Tanka. Since I couldn't follow the meaning of the chants, I silently said my own prayers, hoping that I was remotely close to what everyone was singing. Following the chanting, everyone offered English-language prayers. The order in which we prayed was determined by position, as was everything else in the inipi ceremony. John, the water-dipper began, since he was directly to the left of Rick, who was leading the ceremony. As we went sun-wise around the circle, everyone was silent except for the person who was praying. I quickly noticed that all of the participants would begin their petitions with the words, "I am a pitiful two-leg," or something similar to stress that they were humble before the spirits. Most of the prayers were for the health and well-being of others as opposed to requests for help for themselves. At the end of each petition, the speaker would say, "Mitauke oyasin," to indicate that he was finished.

When the last person had spoken, the second round was declared completed and the lodge door was opened. More water was brought into the lodge and Rick offered a drink of water to each of us, passing the dipper clock-wise around the circle. Fred, to Rick's right, was offered the first drink and he poured the last few drops of water onto the earth in offering before handing the dipper back to Rick. The water was passed again, moving clockwise all the way around the circle until it reached Kamalika, on Fred's right. It was in this manner that each of us drank while the others shared stories about their experiences on the "Red Road," a term commonly used to indicate that a person follows Native American religious beliefs.

Once Fred had finished educating me, the chanupa was brought in, carried reverently from its place on the altar. Signifying the beginning of the third round, Rick closed the lodge door once again and Fred lit the pipe. As he did this, Rick explained that, by smoking the pipe, we were helping our prayers--in the form of smoke sent spiraling toward the heavens--to reach the ears of Wankan Tanka. He reminded everyone that this did not guarantee that we would have our petitions answered in the manner we wished, but that they would be heard. After considering the requests, the Great Spirit would aid us in whatever manner He deemed best for us, since we were truly incapable of deciding this for ourselves. Fred explained that, since I do not smoke, I was not required to actually smoke the pipe, but could simply touch it reverently to my left shoulder instead. Unlike the previous rounds, when levity was permitted, the smoking of the pipe was done in total and complete silence.

This round was concluded more quickly than the others and we moved on to the final portion of the ritual. Again using Lakota chants and drumming, everyone sang songs of thanksgiving and bid farewell to the spirits who had joined us in the lodge. At the end of this final round, we all crawled sun-wise to the door of the lodge. Everyone touched their foreheads to the ground at the exit, murmuring, "Mitauke oyasin," before entering once again into the mundane world. Despite the deep chill in the air, I stayed warm for a long time, exhilarated by the experience, and filled with a glow of well-being and peace. Everyone reclaimed the objects left on the altar and returned to the house for a feast worthy of any Wiccan gathering I have ever attended.) My conch shell necklace felt absolutely wonderful when I put it back on. It hummed with a light, peaceful energy unlike any that I have ever felt before when I cleansed it on my own. Ten days later, I still feel its happy pulsing when I walk past where it hangs when I am not bleeding.

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