No doubt because I have participated in a handful of sweat lodges, a number of friends recently have forwarded me media articles pertaining to the recent sweat lodge deaths at a “spiritual” retreat in Sedona, Arizona. These emails also are understandably implying that sweat lodges are dangerous affairs, especially for something ostensibly designed as a spiritual tool.

I’ll admit that my initial reaction to the story was not especially charitable, particularly after reading that participants plunked down upward of $10,000 to take part in what is known as the “Spiritual Warrior” weekend. First, the words “spirit” and “warrior” don’t belong together. Since when is a spiritual quest defined by a warrior mentality? Second, during the sweat the well-known owner and architect of the program, James Arthur Ray, urged his students – at least some of whom had just completed a 36-hour Vision Quest sans food and water – to “go full-on” and “push past your self-imposed and conditioned borders.”

To anyone who has participated in what I would call an authentic sweat lodge experience, this is just profoundly misguided advice and not at all in keeping with the lodges’ Native American roots of healing and cleansing. From my first sweat to my last, I always felt incredibly safe, supported and nurtured. Preparing me and some other initiates for our first sweat, my teacher at the time told us: “This is not an endurance contest. This is not designed to test your limits. This is about getting what you need out of it, nothing more. If you don’t feel well leave the lodge. There is nothing to be embarrassed about because you aren’t here to prove anything.”

Contrast that with Ray reportedly emerging from the Sedona lodge – unaware that many of the prostrate bodies on the floor of his lodge were in dire need of medical help – pumping his fists into the air because he’d surpassed his own previously established endurance limit. To reiterate, a sweat lodge is not at all about establishing personal bests in endurance and if the “Spiritual Warrior” moniker wasn’t enough, Ray’s words inside the lodge should have alerted participants that his event is centered around ego, not spirit.

And what of that nearly $10,000 fee for the weekend retreat? In the case of nearly every lodge (and other spiritual endeavor) in which I participated, I was encouraged – but never required – to make a “donation” of tobacco (a healing herb) or something else I felt compelled to contribute. Only when I participated in the ayahuasca ceremonies of the Peruvian Amazon was I required to make a substantial payment and, not surprisingly, that was the darkest of my experiences (in fact, I would never recommend that particular organization to other individuals).

My favorite sweat lodge in New Mexico. To the right you can see the skeletal structure of a second lodge.

A sweat lodge is incredibly hot. It is pitch-black, takes place in a squat structure, and can generate feelings of claustrophobia, anxiety and even panic. It is not for everyone, but it is not dangerous if conducted in the right atmosphere by the right people (I think part of what the Buddha would call “right thinking.”). If you are required to pay; if you are exhorted to test your limits; if the event brands you a “warrior,” avoid it and its purveyors. You are entering into a compact with egoic humans, not with spirit.

I think any true spiritual teacher will remind you that the quest for a spiritual awakening is intensely personal; that it ultimately has nothing to do with sweat lodges and vision quests and ayahuasca. That is certainly what I learned. These activities can and do help to center the mind of the spiritual initiate, which is to say, they help to silence the mind, help us to overcome the conditioned impulses and responses of the ego. But they are not required and, again with a nod of appreciation and respect to my former mentor, they are never a business.