When people talk of climbing mountains or running marathons, they are often high-fived or congratulated for their great accomplishments. When I actually dare to tell people about the ways I challenge myself, my stories are often met with silence, even disdain, from those who can’t seem to understand why I would do the things I do to myself.

Firewalk facilitator, Dorita Reyen

I have cried on mountainsides, sure I would never make it to the top. I know the exhilaration and gratification of reaching the peak, my body aching from working so hard. I know what it is like to do hours upon hours of consecutive yoga and holding postures so long that my muscles are shaking and tears are streaming down my face.

I also know what it is like to walk on hot coals, to have metal hooks pierce my flesh, and to allow my body to withstand great amounts of pain as ways to transcend my limits and expand myself.

A very powerful ordeal experience for me came just months after the death of my infant son. I attended an event called Piercing the Veil which was facilitated by my friends who are also my son’s godparents. This event was held at the time of the year that we honor our ancestors and was especially poignant for me after losing Cyrus.

The event was a ceremony where participants had hooks inserted in their chest. My son’s godfather looked in my eyes with such tenderness and the recognition of shared grief before he pierced my flesh with the hooks. After the hooks were in, I was wrapped in strings, and sat in a circle among the other participants. I barely heard a word of what was going on as I sat in my cocoon. I let my grief pour out of me and sobbed in a way I never had before and likely never will again. My body, curled into itself and bound, was drenched in my tears. It was as if the holes pierced in my flesh gave a way for the grief to escape, a symbolic opening of my heart to let the pain flow out.

Piercing the Veil, 2007

Then the rebirth came. One by one, each of the participants were cut out of their bindings. We slowly came to our feet, hooks still in our chests. Our hooks were attached to ropes that were then attached to a metal ring in the center of the circle, all of us connected. Those running the ritual then wove ropes through all of the ropes connecting us to the center ring, creating what looked like a giant spider web. After sitting with and within ourselves, being fully present with our own bodies and minds, we were released and reconnected to each other and the archetypal web of life. It was a profound experience, that for me, was such an important piece of the healing I needed.

For me, ordeal work has served many functions. I have chosen to undergo ordeals as a gift of love and honor to my larger spiritual community. I have stepped into ordeal with the intention of working through my own internal pain and emotional blocks. Always ordeal work has given me a chance to step into and through my fears, and a way to walk through what seems unthinkable and impossible. In breaking through those perceived boundaries, I have experienced release, catharsis, and expansion.

Links:

To learn more about ordeal work, check out the work of Lee Harrington

DC based flesh hook and suspension event, SuspenDC

For firewalk info and events, Dorita Reyen’s firewalk facebook page