Sisu

Craig’s family came to the United States in 1968 from Helsinki, Finland. He was the first one born on American soil, and was raised by his grandparents Johan and Aunekylikki on the Northside of Milwaukee while his parents worked. Craig’s time with his grandparents imprinted a strong impression on him, and it was with them he learned farming (they had eight children of their own and being from the county in Finland a garden was an essential part of raising a family), the Finnish tradition of sauna, and sisu.

When we bought our piece of land all those years ago, a sauna was of course incorporated into our homestead’s design. The framing of our sauna structure came from the Douglas Fir trees on our property that we milled, the exterior redwood board and batten siding and trim came from Bob’s recycled lumber in Arcata, and the interior trim is vintage wine casts from Steve Dazy (which makes the room smell like really good red wine). The stove room is 12×12 and lined with clear cedar from Winthrop Washington, and holds a dozen people comfortably on benches faced with Port Orford incense cedar. The stove itself is from Ishpeming Michigan (from a welder who would get free scraps from the ore mine), and is a bit unique as the door opens to the outside (so oxygen isn’t removed from the sauna room). The stove holds 150lbs of olivine rocks for water dosing and eucalyptus oils, and two vents were placed to open and close and ensure both an air exchange and a nook to house a bottle of beer or whiskey. There is one arched gothic window that faces east and we’ve spent years in that sacred heat watching the moon rise.

The foundation was done by master stone mason Kyle Schlagenhauf with key features handcut from blue stone. The exterior deck space is 12×24, and a few steps away is the old clawfoot bathtub from the original homesteaders that has cold spring water running clear for the cold dunks.That deep soaking tub has stories to tell; so many salty tears and sweat swiped clean as every person baptized in those waters had the sense of starting over again. We even have the sweetest picture left behind by the original homesteaders who without running water would fill the tub with spring water bucket by bucket, build a fire under, and bathe their babies like Hansel and Gretel!

So what exactly does the title of this month’s blog Sisu have to do with our homesteads sauna? Sisu derives its name from the Finnish sisus, relating to the guts or the interior of an object; and though it has been attributed to a place where strong emotions arise, a personal characteristic, and or a person’s natural tendency, sisu ultimately is a recognizable force of a person’s spirit. The 1939-40 Winter War drew attention to the strength of Finnish Sisu, as the Finns fended off their neighbors who outnumbered them three to one. Craig’s grandfather Johan (born Jussi Viemero), was a weathermen for the Finnish Airforce (Kauhava IIma Havainto Force), only to later join the Finnish Army as his trucks were called to war. He carried shrapnel from Russian artillery for the remainder of his life.

“The Finns have something they call sisu. It is a compound of bravado and bravery, of ferocity and tenacity, of the ability to keep fighting after most people quit, and to fight with the will to win.” The New York Times, January 14, 1940

Sisu is the invocation of inner power and encompasses the body, mind, and spiritual place where people go to gather that energy. Each culture and each person moving through this world will hold a different place around them and within them where they can pull strength and faith when needed. Most Finnish families built saunas before building their homes, as it is a place where Finns regularly go to recharge. I think about how the act of creating a space where one can to think and rest, where the gathering of wood and the making of fire to either watch or gather warmth ignites the inner fire of one’s being; and a saunas soft and soothing sense of heat moves through the mind and marrow of one’s bones to imbue a sense of stillness that surrounds the literal space of oneself. It is in those spaces, sauna or not, ceremonial or not, that one finds their sisu. Sometimes we search for it willingly; sometimes a situation is thrown at us and we have a choice to either succumb or summit to the lesson at hand.

The long brutal winters in Finland allowed the community to create a space that would invigorate them during the dark cold months and in doing so created a living ceremony that was attended to on a regular basis. Craig’s mom Sirkku-Liisa recalls sauna’s being spiritual of course, but also very social; with friends and extended family gathering for food and alcohol (think sausage steaming on the sauna rocks and booze flowing)! She said sauna days were Saturday when they lived in Finland, but Craig and I created our tradition called Sauna Sunday’s. We would “take sauna” as a family (oh the memories of my girls so little sitting in those little buckets!) and then open it up to the community. It takes some time getting that fire good and hot, so we make sure we utilize that energy and share that sacred space. My only rule is to come on by and enjoy your time; no need to say hello or visit. We host parties all the time, so Sauna Sunday’s is the time for friends to come up the mountain and find some sisu of their own.

As spring songs hint at the season shifting I have been thinking of the season shifts within my own mind, body, and spirit. Sauna season on the homestead will be coming to a close as the weather warms and dries the earth. Knowing this shift is inevitable, I am relishing the deep damp coldness of winter paired with the sharp wet heat of our sauna. It pushes one’s mind and body to extremes, and in these forceful oppositions a space of sorts is created. Both the heat and the cold plunge purges oneself of what it no longer needs and inside those intense extremes one glimpses the grit that encompasses sisu. This quiet introspection leads to a bit of introversion, and a solitude of sorts develops in this sacred space and in these months of winter where the freezing air is invigorating and the fire is inviting. This space is just that; a place in which literal dimensions are unoccupied as the mind, body and spirit are contracting to stay warm, and in that hibernation a seed of strength is protected for the spring thaw.

Endurance and strength come through the act of living, and a desire to seek sisu through the balance of both will often prove a successful life. How do we sit with ourselves? Can we encompass both the cold and the heat, the good and the bad, and still choose to push on towards the future? How do we carry the strength of sisu outside the sanctuary of the sauna and into all aspects of our lives? I watch the homestead move through this season of stillness, and I marvel at the way my husband took a piece of forested land in the mountains and built a house, a barn, a guest cabin, and a sauna. I stare in awe and astonishment at the space we created together, all that unyielding courage that kept us unified as we dove deep into adulthood, marriage, children, and life. This homestead gave us purpose and resilience; there we were, just two kids up a dirt road in the middle of nowhere completely off the grid and we just kept at it. And what do we have all these years later? A home, a family, and sisu.