Bravo White Lodge: You're Not Done Yet (And Never Will Be)
Chapter 53 of Neophyte: My Life In A Sex Cult
This is a chapter within my memoir, Neophyte, about my time in a harmful cult called the Deer Tribe Metis Medicine Society. It is not meant to be read as a stand-alone post. To view all book chapters, click here.
The Deer Tribe is a dangerous cult. While they present themselves as a spiritual community offering healing and empowerment, their practices are rooted in manipulation, control, and cultural appropriation. Like many cults, they offer moments of genuine connection and personal insight — but these are strategically used to gain trust and draw people deeper into a harmful system. Readers are encouraged to read the entire book before forming opinions about the Deer Tribe.
Chapter 53
Andie was right; the Deer Tribe’s ascension plan was endless. Red Lodge graduates were encouraged to move on to Bravo White Lodge, the next level up. Bravo was a three-year program with a revolving curriculum, meeting for four long weekends each year. After finishing Bravo, students would graduate to Bravo Internship, and then Alpha White Lodge. That stage could last indefinitely until they completed the fourth gateway, a process that often took years.
The final stop was Gold Lodge, where the most advanced medicine people trained. But even at this level, there was no clear endpoint. Apprentices would need to stay in Gold Lodge forever if they wanted to remain active in the gateway process.
A strange transformation was happening within me, one I could no longer ignore. When January 2020 came around, and it was time to commit to joining Bravo White Lodge, I realized I didn’t want to. My only desire was to be part of the SunDance drum team.
I had joined the year before, and from the moment I sat down with the drummers, my soul came alive. Singing and drumming for the SunDancers brought me more joy and purpose than anything I had ever felt. It was hard to believe I had spent six grueling years as a dancer before finally honoring what my heart had been calling me to since that first summer, when I watched Naomi, the drum chief, strike the SunDance drum for the first time during Friday evening’s gathering.
Instead of enrolling in Bravo, which costs $1300 a year, I decided to take a year off.
When Tori Sykes found out about my decision, she stepped in. “Is this about money?” she asked when I told her. “Because I can get your first two sessions paid for.”
And, as with so many other things in the Deer Tribe, I accepted her offer without hesitation.
When I told June, she laughed.
“They’re grooming you,” she said.
A few weeks later, during our first Bravo White Lodge session, Tori explained a new practice we would be required to do.
“The Middle Sacred Platform is a warrior technique of discipline to increase your spiritual orende,” she told our group.
My heart sank. I disliked warrior techniques of discipline. There were various forms, but all involved fatiguing breath work combined with symbol gazing, pressure points, or body postures. I had completed three techniques so far, and they always felt like a chore. Every one of them left me feeling utterly depleted.
Yet there was no way around them. To progress through the gateways, they had to be done.
“This is a recapitulation exercise,” Tori said, reading directly from her notes. “Recapitulation is a powerful tool we use to transform the dark, painful stories of our past. When we relive these dark stories, we lose energy. These old stories keep us in pain. This is energy loss. We cannot deal with the present as long as we continue to relive the pain of our past. But through recapitulation, we reclaim our power. It is a process that helps us access the learning and understanding from past events and retrieve the lost energy.”
Tori looked up from her notes. “You will be working with your shadow self to restore balance and harmony to all the situations throughout your life where you gave away your power. These dark places in your past are what create huge energy drains. Energy drains lead to malformation, obstruction, and blocks. When left unaddressed, the malformed energy builds up, which causes sickness, illness, and death. You want to remove the energy blocks so your energy can flow freely again.”
A stack of handouts was making its way around the room. When I received mine, I noticed that it was several pages long.
“In your handout, you will find a detailed description of the practice. You will need to follow the body positions and breathing patterns required for this discipline. While you hold the position and breathing pattern, you will recapitulate all the situations where you gave away your power. First, you will recapitulate all your sexual relationships, beginning with the most recent and going back in time. Then you will move on to your relationship with your mother, again starting with your most recent memories and travelling backwards. After your mother, you will move onto your relationship with your father, followed by your siblings, relatives, friends, teachers, employers, and all other significant relationships of your life.”
Tori fell silent, then offered one last reminder.
“For this to be effective, you need to do it at least three times a week for three months. If you miss even one time, you must start over. The technique is building your energy body, so you must maintain the practice consistently for it to work.”
The practice began in an upright fetal position, with feet flat on the ground, chin tucked, and knees hugged tightly to the chest. For 20 minutes, we had to breathe in a steady “panting” rhythm: short, rapid inhales and exhales through the mouth.
This body position and breathing pattern were the background to the mental work of revisiting our personal history and taking back our power.
I did my first session after work one day in mid-March. The minutes passed slowly, and I soon grew lightheaded. Anxious feelings swelled in my chest, for there were memories I didn’t want to recall, memories I had worked very hard to forget, like the rape I experienced in college. My chest felt tight and constricted, and my solar plexus ached. Familiar sensations of panic began to build up in my body. I attempted to breathe through it. Unbidden, Silver’s mantras drifted into my mind. Do not focus on it, but do not push it away. Spiritual warriors neither dwell nor avoid. The only way out is through.
Occasionally, I would reach a blank in the timeline of my past. When this happened, I drew upon my neuro-linguistic programming training. The subconscious mind is programmed to take directives and follow orders. It has an innate ability to resolve past memories without pulling them into conscious awareness.
Throughout it, I was concerned. Was I even doing it right? There had been no real instructions on how to recapitulate, just the command to do it.
Finally, after an eternity, my phone timer beeped. Twenty minutes had passed. Relief swept through me as I allowed my body to relax. But the Middle Sacred Platform was not over; there were more stages to get through. Thankfully, I found these easier, and I moved quickly through the subsequent series of breathwork.
After the first session, I decided to create a chart. I needed to complete the Middle Sacred Platform a total of thirty-six times, with a minimum of three sessions per week. There was no grace in the warrior techniques of discipline—if I missed even one session, I would have to start over.
I planned it all out. I would do two sessions during the week, right after work on days I didn’t have kung fu, and the third session on Saturday. I took pleasure in placing a checkmark in each little box I had drawn on a page in my journal. Thirty-five sessions to go. Thirty-four to go. Thirty-three to go.
When I finished each session, I had a bowl of cannabis waiting for me. The relief I felt after smoking was exquisite.
After two weeks and six sessions, I concluded that I had completed my sexual history. It was time to clear my personal history with my mother.
Three weeks later.
Everybody was talking about coronavirus. Panic swept the nation, and the Deer Tribe began cancelling all in-person events, which meant no more sweat lodges or drum practices. One day during the last week of March, my employer told me to pack up my computer and work from home.
“Should we be concerned?” I asked Matthew when I returned from the grocery store one day with only a single bag of food. The shelves had been stripped bare, and no meat or produce was left. I was surprised by how many people were wearing masks.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I need to do more research.”
Though it was painful to be cut off from the medicine community, I was secretly thrilled that I got to work from home. I gradually began waking up later and later, something my body appreciated greatly. I took an early morning break to make breakfast and coffee, and went on several short walks throughout the day. Eventually, I started multitasking around the house between sales calls. I started smoking weed before the workday ended. As long as I maintained my numbers, did it really matter?
But as the weeks went by, my anxiety increased. Medicine events went online, and I was shocked by how bored I was without the drumming, singing, sweat lodges, and pipe ceremonies. Eventually, I stopped attending the online sessions.
I felt confused and unsettled. The medicine had lost its magic, and I didn’t know what to do.
Go to Chapter 54.