
Spa
> July/August, 2002
GOING NATIVE
Tribal culture and tradition color the Southwest
spa experience.
By Eric Hiss - Photographs by George H. Huey
The
drumming stops, and silence returns to the clearing
below the vast red rocks, now turning deep hues of
scarlet and purple with the onset of another gorgeous
Arizona sunset. As the chill of a desert night descends,
I'm lying wrapped like a papoose in a bundle of blankets,
adrift in an inner silence that matches the stillness
summoned by the towering buttes and mesas of the storied
Verde Valley.
I
had ventured into Arizona's red rock country this
night to take part in a healing ceremony that left
me feeling equal parts dazed and with a deep sense
of completeness. The quieting of the drums, rattles,
and Native American chants also signified my journey
here was coming to a close. As I sat up and stared
at the stars, I wondered if I would be able to bring
this feeling of lightness back home with me to my
little slice of urban sprawl.
Having an interest in indigenous cultures, I had noticed
an increasing number of treatments inspired by Native
American practices were appearing on spa menus, sprinkled
amidst the overseas exotica of Ayurvedic therapies
and Balinese synchronized massage. Adobe clay wraps
and other treatments with connections to the first
Americans were steadily finding their way into the
spa lexicon, especially in the Southwest, where native
botanicals are plentiful and the power of the Spirits
resonates in the landscape.
 |
| In
the spirit of healing: a Hopi drum is propped
mid-ceremony amid native agave (left); the color
of a sage smudgestick contrasts with Sedona's
red earth (right). |
When
a healer based in Sedona, Arizona, invited me to visit
and
experience her work using Native American-inspired
techniques
first-hand, I figured Spirit -- or blind luck -- was
calling. I headed for the
Southwest to see what role America's indigenous beliefs
and practices are playing today in soothing modern
bodies -- and souls.
Arizona
was a natural choice to explore the modern legacy
of America's
"First Nation," given the deep roots so
many tribes have in the region.
Here, over 20 tribes, including the country's largest,
the Navajo, and the tradition-bound Hopi, live on
vast mesas, rolling swaths of Sonoran desert and in
the shelter of the Grand Canyon.
In
my travels through their ancestral lands, I discovered
that a wealth of ancient knowledge lives on today
in its original form, though much is protected from
outsiders by tribal elders and traditions. However,
the basic tools and teachings of the cultures are
finding their way into the hands of spas and healers
who incorporate them into new, tradition-based therapies.
From
Scottsdale's plush and polished treatment rooms to
the rugged canyons and rich, red earth of Sedona,
I found this influence permeating many of the spa
treatments I experienced (though some really did stretch
the connection) and in healing ceremonies where the
substance -- and sometimes the spirit -- of Native
America can still be found.
EARTH
MOTHER -- THE FOUNDATION
In the Native American belief system, Earth is The
Mother -- the sustainer of life who nourishes all
creatures, from the "two-leggeds" (humans)
to the "four-leggeds" (animals) and everything
else that crawls, swims, or flies. Earth's energy
is represented in her many manifestations, such as
rocks, clay, and mud.
"Native
Americans honor the healing power of Earth because
of her ancientness," explained Jonne Marie Moseman,
cultural curator at the Mii Amo Destination Spa in
Sedona. "As we know, geologists devote their
whole lives to understanding Earth's physical complexity.
Her energy is no less complex."
Throughout
my trek here, the sacredness and power of the Earth
and her energies was a theme I encountered time and
time again. In fact, I discovered that one very popular
spa treatment is based on these subtle forces. LaStone
therapy was developed in Arizona by therapist Mary
Nelson. The massage, using warmed stones gathered
from desert riverbeds, mirrors ancient indigenous
practices, accessing trigger points and
directing energy through the healing power of basalt
and marble.
Few
people laying on the treatment table in a Five-Star
resort would make the connection between the LaStone
therapy they were indulging in and pre-Columbian cultures
along Arizona's Salt River. But for centuries, cultures
like the Pima and other indigenous people have used
various stones, and especially basalt, to heal and
soothe.
"The
rocks reconnect us with Earth, our mother, and native
cultures understand this best," Nelson explained.
"The focus is to use part of the earth to move
good energy in and bad energy out."
Nelson,
an Arizona native, believes her vision for LaStone
was brought to her by a Native spirit. She was sitting
in a traditional sauna, watching steam rise from the
rocks. "I was dreading doing a massage treatment
on a client that day because I had an injury,"
she explained. "Suddenly, it was revealed to
me how I could use the stones to save my hands while
doing deep tissue work on a client." Only later
did she discover that tribes once gathered smooth
river rocks for therapeutic
treatments, convincing Nelson that her breakthrough
was Spirit-sent.
Through
research and experimentation, Nelson has refined the
LaStone technique and treatment to include Native
American ceremonial practices like smudging, the burning
of traditional botanicals like sage and
sweetgrass.
"Ceremony
heightens experience," she offered. "Ritual
and respect change the vibration of what the body
is capable of feeling."
At
Mii Amo, Moseman also weighed in on the power of stones
and Earth, explaining that the special healing attributes
of the spa's location are intertwined with its positioning
in Sedona's Boynton Canyon.
"The
Native perspective is that the rocks here are our
most ancient ancestors, and they are respected for
their healing powers because of this," she said.
"That also affects the energy here. It's very
cleansing because of all the silica and quartz."
A
stone more frequently associated with the culture
is turquoise, which is rarely found outside the Southwest.
For area tribes like the Navajo and Hopi, it represents
different elements of nature, such as sky or water.
The Navajo consider it one of their four sacred colors
(the others being white, yellow, and black) and hold
that throwing turquoise into a river with the proper
ceremony will bring rain.
The
one consistent belief about turquoise among all indigenous
people of the Southwest, however, is its power, whether
one wants to summon good fortune, protection, or just
have his bow shoot straight.
Not
surprisingly, Indians also valued it for its sheer
beauty. Turquoise has been used for at least 2,000
years as a ritual adornment, as beads and buttons
worn primarily during ceremonies associated with the
cycles of agriculture. In the 19th century, Spanish
and Mexican influences introduced silversmithing to
tribal culture, resulting in the squash
blossom necklaces and concha belts many people associate
with turquoise jewelry today.
THE
POWER OF PLANTS
Native
traditions teach that the plant kingdom is an essential
helper to us "two-leggeds." Plants and botanicals
are considered to have their own special energies
and intelligence that, if used properly, can cure
the stressed and sickly.
"The
sacredness of plants and herbs as food and medicine
is honored in all native cultures," explained
Sedona-based healer Sandra Cosentino. "Simply,
we honor their gift."
Ancient
wisdom held that the Great Spirit endowed many plants
with special powers (jojoba and desert broom to name
a few), but that four plants in particular held a
sacred place.
The
big four, as it were, are tobacco, sage, sweetgrass,
and cedar. Each was given special attributes: Sage
is used to purify and remove negativity; cedar calls
in good energy; sweetgrass represents Grandmother
energy -- comforting and soothing -- with the woven
tops of the plant representing her braided hair. Tobacco
was valued for the calming effect it instilled during
important council meetings and ceremonies, but was
also believed to be a poison if abused. Sound familiar?
Usually,
the spiritual qualities of these plants were released
through "smudging," or the ceremonial burning
of specially wrapped bundles of the dried botanicals.
Smudging has deep roots in Native America and "provides
purification, like incense in a temple or church,"
explained Moseman.
Although
Native American religion allows for many interpretations,
smudging is usually begun while facing East, the direction
of the rising sun and new beginnings. Held over a
shell or small pot, the smoke from the smudge stick
is then wafted over the individual or space being
cleansed with the hand or an eagle feather fan.
Starting
at the feet (or, in the case of the Hopi, at the bottom
of the feet), the smudge is worked upward, until with
a flick of the hand -- or fan -- negative energy is
swept away from the top of the head.
If
one wants to forage for their own botanicals in native
tradition, it is considered respectful before harvesting
to ask the plant's permission to use it, and to select
only every third plant. The power of these plants
can also be accessed using essential oils distilled
from wild-crafted varieties.
SWEATLODGES
AND KIVAS
The
purging of negative energies is prevalent throughout
Native American spiritual practices. It is also the
fundamental purpose of the sweat lodge, a rite referred
to in the Lakota language simply as inipi, or purification.
Across
all traditions, the sweat lodge is a sacred space
where physical and spiritual maladies are left behind
through the deep sweat and darkness experienced inside,
emerging from the womblike environment "reborn"
with new vitality.
In
Sedona, there was no shortage of opportunities to
do a "sweat" during my visit, but I had
been warned off a few offered by suspect shaman-wannabes.
Cosentino, the healer I had come to visit, had good
information on upcoming opportunities, but because
they are scheduled infrequently, I had to miss out
on this particular visit.
Sweat
lodges are one example of Native Americans going into
the "Mother" for
healing -- kivas are another powerful manifestation
of this belief. A legacy of the Pueblo people of the
Southwest, kivas are their place of ritual. Always
circular (a powerful, symbolic shape for Indians representing
continuum, Earth Mother, and other mystical ideas),
they are dug into the Earth for deeper connection.
The
beginnings of these structures are lost in the mists
of time, but we do know that in Hopi lands, they are
symbolic of going back into Mother Earth to pray.
Modern,
non-tribal souls have much to enjoy and learn from
the solitude and quiet a kiva affords. Sedona's Mii
Amo spa created a contemporary version built with
reverence for native traditions. Considered by the
staff to be the very heart of the spa, the Crystal
Grotto takes its cue from traditional kiva design
-- circular in shape and with a natural floor of red
Sedona earth -- but adds new elements.
Inside,
the round chamber is lit only by sunlight streaming
through an oculus in the ceiling. A circular bench
runs the circumference of the room, allowing visitors
to sit and meditate, or just relax. To help guests
focus within, the center of the room is anchored by
a column of petrified wood set with crystals pointing
in the four directions. The only sound here is the
water from a small fountain, trickling back to earth.
Sitting
in this womblike room toward the end of my stay, I
had the good fortune to catch an impromptu Native
American chant and meditation led by Moseman. At first
I was distracted watching surprised guests lose their
inhibitions and succumb to her singing and flute playing.
Eventually, I found myself drifting to my own private
place, accompanied by the music, which seemed innately
tuned to my own heartbeat.
SPIRIT-THE
CENTER
Native American cultures have always kept Spirit as
their heart, the hub of the wheel of life. Perhaps
the most graphic symbol of this belief is represented
in the medicine wheel, used by tribes across the continent
since before recorded time.
Made
of rocks placed in a circle with "spokes"
of stone that usually
number four, representing the four directions, the
symbol is a way for
native people to focus Earth energy. Through this
powerful symbol, they
touch deep mysteries within themselves and in nature's
grand design.
I
can't say for sure whether it was the "opening"
I knew I was
experiencing through the various treatments I received
on my Southwest
sojourn, or just keen curiosity, but when Cosentino
invited me to
experience a medicine wheel on my last day in Sedona,
I rolled with the
hunches, and went for it. I knew this was not going
to be just another
Southwestern-flavored spa treatment. While a therapist
might speak the
language of essential oils, hydration, and trigger
points, Cosentino's
idiom is medicine wheels, eagle feathers, and drums.
Bumping
along in her van on a dusty red road, a small group
of us made our way into the wilderness between Bear
and Doe Mountains on Sedona's northwest edge.
Cosentino
and her partner, a full-blooded Hopi woman named Palaquimana,
or Red Tail Hawk Girl, gave us specific instructions
on how to collect stones and build the wheel. We were
then asked to each walk the wheel and, using our intuition,
stop at the place we felt Spirit had guided us to.
It
was here, at the end of the ceremony, that I found
myself wrapped protectively in blankets, powwow drums
moving over me from different angles, directing waves
of sound that summoned intense vibrations from my
body. This was a wrap of a different nature. No Vichy
showers, padded treatment tables, or lavish exfoliants,
just the raw pureness of Mother Nature enveloping
me as darkness hastened.
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