intertwining

a (heart) beating; a returning to the tomb

Added 2023-12-05 16:58:18 +0000 UTC

“would anyone like a beating?” he asks softly, holding a drenched heavy bundle of herbs.

there are many people in the sweat lodge, but our eyes meet and i nod slowly. he gestures for me to lay face down on the topmost bench.

i obey, shutting my eyes, unsure of what to expect. it is so dark. everyone’s breath is very subtle.

i feel him begin softly caressing me, first with limbs and then with branches. i breathe steadily, rhythmically. then begins the hitting, like a metronome, like a drum. it is sublime. the pain is music.

when he finishes, he tells me to flip over, belly and heart exposed. the soft strokes resume. then, harder—always precise. my eyes remain closed. focus on the breath. i notice him sync his breath with mine. more beating.

until he stops. placing the herbal bundle, heavy heavy over my face. it is almost suffocating. but not quite. i feel buried. return to womb. my palms are face up, sureendering to this moment—entombed.

i feel his hand gently come into mine. dead, holding hands.

tuning forks begin to vibrate along each energy point on my body. i shake and thrust involuntarily. the last center is stimulated. the vibrations bleed into stillness. stillness!

finally, he removes the plants from my face and releases my hand. slowly, i rise, bowing to this stranger, this brother.

“that was like an exorcism,” i tell him later on.

“were you the demon or the one possessed?” he asks.

“both.”

we smile. we nod. yes.