Sweat Lodges: The Therapy Of Choice For Bros

Sometimes a dude has problems — usually about sex or money. But since therapy’s for sissies, he turns to something a little more badass: a sweat lodge. Details has the story.

Whether your problem is an inability to commit (and writer Kayleen Schaefer is shocked that a guy would consider this a problem), or a desire to jumpstart your life by divorcing your wife and starting a PR agency for models, shaman Durek Verrett is your man. But as he makes clear, this ain’t no stinkin’ counseling:

“You’re not seeing a life coach,” Verrett says. “I’m no bullshit. I don’t want to win your affection. I’m not going to applaud you.”

Sweat lodges are not touchy-feely, they are manly. Because people have died in them. Because other dudes are impressed by them (“I like to tell the other dads at my kid’s hoity-toity school, ‘Hey, man, I did a sweat this weekend'”). And because, um:

Think of it as the Red Bull approach to therapy. It’s quick. It’s extreme. And it lets you do all the driving.

I wasn’t aware that one of Red Bull’s perks was its willingness to let you drive. Better than a girlfriend! Seriously, it’s nice that sweat lodges give men an opportunity to express emotions and desires that might otherwise be stifled (although according to one shaman their prayers “always comes down to sex and money”). And before I rag on the middle-aged white dudes in Schaefer’s article for appropriating Native American traditions to solve their decidedly white-dude problems, I should confess that I too once signed up for a sweat. But I couldn’t go. Because I was menstruating. True story.