Inipi
Forty-something people were crowded in the lodge that day and hysteria began to rise in my throat. Claustrophobic, but there was no way out; the door was closed. My heart thudded wildly and the temperature kept rising and rising. I was smashed into the uppermost part of the east side of the lodge when the sweat broke out and cascaded down my forehead, tears streaming from the corners of my eyes. It was my very first time in the sweat lodge, and “grandfather,” Don Cardinal, was doing his thing. It was the East door, and he called in Creator, the ancestors, and the helper spirits. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I felt my ancestors brush past my face and pass through my body. I could feel their overwhelming joy that I had chosen to come back home. I heard whispers and some words I understood completely. All of a sudden, I heard this little whimper and a small voice that said, “Help me, please, I can’t make it. I have to get out of here. Please, I want out.”