Heyokah Spirit

by Pamela Leigh

It was my first Indian sweat, and I followed Julie Rivers’ instructions on how to arrange the wood for the fire, first placing the logs east to west and then north to south. Taking turns, we each selected seven stones from a large pile. The stones represented the seven cardinal directions—north, east, south, west, Mother Earth, Father Sky, and the sacred space within. With each selection Julie invoked a prayer, calling in and blessing that direction.

We were building a fire in late afternoon for a women’s-only full moon sweat that night. For me, it was the culmination of eleven days spent at the Heyokah Retreat Center. Located in the foothills two miles outside Santa Fe, New Mexico, the two-story, twelve-room brown adobe, surrounded by juniper, pinyon pine, cedar, and the ubiquitous cactus, had enveloped me in peace and tranquility.

Thirteen months earlier, a friend I was visiting in Santa Fe took me to the retreat. We were given a tour by one of the residents and ended up sitting on her bedroom floor at the Center, sipping tea and nibbling cookies. As our tea party extended into the afternoon, I became aware of a palpable energy coming through the wall of the adjacent room. Because I did not think I was especially sensitive to energy fields, I was more than a little curious about what was on the other side.

When I mentioned the energy “hits” I was feeling, I was invited into the room. The energy that had seeped through the wall intensified inside. I noticed the Native American objects, some arranged on two low, alter-like tables. The space was used primarily as a meditation, healing, and bodywork room. It was my first introduction to unseen energies that can exert a subtle but powerful effect.

Like most of the women who came here, I was in transition, although I did not know to what extent on that first visit. I knew that my twenty-year marriage was shaky. I asked for a brochure to take back to my husband. Because of his interest in Native American ways of life, I thought he would enjoy staying here. Little did I know then that it was I who would be returning to the center. Within five months, my marriage ended and eight months later I booked a return visit to the retreat. It was the resident guide who again welcomed me, claiming to have known all along it would be me, and not my husband, who would be staying there.

Julie and her sister, Dona Wilder, who helped run the retreat, had seen the Heyokah spirit work its magic many times at the center. Dona said, “Often people see the retreat and think, ‘This is a nice little place; I think I’ll come rent a room.’ Then they get here and usually a lot more happens to them, none of which they expected.” This observation was true for me. I thought I was coming to the center for some much needed R&R—a chance to regroup and think about my next steps. And while I did indeed rest and recharge, the energies of the center worked their magic in ways I could not have planned.

            I chose to “freelance” my retreat—meaning that my time there would be unstructured as opposed to spent in planned activities. There were four rooms available at the center. I booked the “Moon Lodge Room,” which was named for the sacred, ancient ceremony where women go into retreat at their moon time cycle to nurture themselves.  The room had a large skylight built into the high ceiling, and I soon discovered the pleasure of lying on the floor beneath it and looking up at the starry night. A gray wolf’s golden-brown eyes stared out at me from the wall adjacent to my bed. I felt comforted by this large print because it looked so much like my Siberian Husky back home.

One of my intentions was to live in the moment. Arguably, it should not be that difficult to do in such a nurturing place, free from everyday home and business distractions. To have such unstructured time was a luxurious gift to myself. Whereas a week before, I was grabbing lunch on the run and trying to file four project deadlines on time to make my flight to Albuquerque, my only decisions now revolved around would I take my breakfast alone on my balcony or catch a conversation in the kitchen? How long a hike would I do? How much of the day would I spend perched in the hills behind the retreat with only my books and thoughts to keep me company?

            I spent much of my time at the retreat in quiet contemplation. But when I wanted connection and conversation, it was as near as the kitchen or other common areas. In addition, once a week the sisters hosted a women’s support group, which Heyokah guests are invited to. The night I attended, one woman had just returned from a transformational journey to the jungles of Peru, so the “program” that evening, after everyone shared what was happening in their lives, was to hear about her amazing adventures.

            As for the palpable energy that I had felt a year previously, I experienced it every time I entered the meditation room’s sacred space. One of the most powerful experiences I had at the retreat was practicing ecstatic dance in the room. I cannot remember when I have felt so moved and so connected with spirit than when combining music, dance, the view of the hills behind the center, and the accumulated positive vibrations of that room.

            After eleven days, I came to the end of my sojourn. For my last night at the retreat a more perfect ending could not have been arranged than the full moon sweat. About twenty other women participated, all of whom were locals. The sweat lasted two hours and progressed through four levels of intensity. Because I was new to sweats, I was placed near the entrance of the sweat lodge just in case I needed to leave. As with everything else I experienced at the retreat, I had never felt more nurtured and cared for. Although the heat of the fourth level was incredibly intense, I did not need to leave and just turned my face to the side flaps from time to time and poked my nose out to breathe in the cool night air. 

            The sweat was a sensual experience. When the front flap was opened between sweats, the full moon illuminated our bodies. Intimacies were shared as those who were so moved spoke from their hearts about their lives. I shared that I had come here primarily to regroup and decide what the next steps on my life’s path would be. I did not expect to fall in love with the center or to want to live there and contribute to its expansion. As Dona had observed, such is the unexpected magic of Heyokah.

 At the end of the two-hour sweat, we gathered inside the retreat for a potluck food feast, which we all contributed to. Knowing I would be leaving the next day filled me with a sweet sadness; I felt like I was leaving the womb again.        

Prior to coming to the retreat, a friend from home gave me a pewter angel to accompany and protect me on my journey. As I gathered up my belongings to leave, I decided to hang the figure on the bedside lamp in the Moon Lodge Room. I knew I would return to the retreat, and, in the meantime, the angel would offer her protection and guidance to all the women who would come to experience Heyokah Spirit.

Endnote: A little more than a year later, I did return to live at the Heyokah retreat for about six months, helping the sisters in their efforts to secure a grant. When Julie, the founder and “heart” of the retreat, passed away several years later, the center closed. I am eternally grateful for the transformative Heyokah gifts I received: my first experience with feeling unseen energies; the understanding that life unfolds in sometimes unexpected ways; and the good feelings that come with being aligned with a cause greater than oneself.