What It’s For

Yo-ani-ah means “carry it away” in Navajo. This is a very old rite for healing deep emotional wounds — trauma from violence, abuse, war, assault, or any injury that leaves someone unable to sleep, haunted by nightmares, or otherwise broken by what happened to them. It’s invitation-only, so the person being healed can share as openly as they need to feel truly known by those present — though the healer must understand the full extent of the injury even if the wider group doesn’t, since any part left hidden from the healer simply won’t be reached by the ceremony.

The Heart of It

The ceremony doesn’t try to heal the person in the present moment, where the injury still lives. Instead, four identical sand paintings — each a red cross on a white background, clouded round with white sand, one set in each of the four directions — are used to carry the person back, in prayer, to the moment of their own creation, before any injury ever touched them. Standing there, in Elda, in God’s own presence, no evil can draw near. The one praying isn’t asking from within the world that caused the pain; the sand paintings hold open a door directly into the Father’s presence instead, where the person can be reunited with the self they were before they were hurt.

Preparing

Twelve stems of the Yo-ani-ah plant (also called compass plant) are gathered in advance, sung to as tender new shoots each spring and told what blessing they’ll one day carry, given a small offering of Harari as they’re gathered. Four women tie colored ribbons matching each direction onto bundles of the plant. Others grind white prayer corn by hand. New clothing is prepared for the person being healed, along with a fluffy under-tail feather and a sprig of fir for their hair. Everyone attending bathes and washes their hair beforehand. A turkey-wing sending fan, an ayal horn whistle, and a rattle are all needed as well.

The Ceremony Itself

Water is shared among everyone first, inviting the Living Water, Motsah, to walk with them into Elda. The sacred fire is lit with a Yo-ani-ah spindle. In each of the four directions, the man of service holds the ribbon-tied plants over that direction’s sand painting and blows the whistle — a sound evil is said to fear — before laying the plants flat, stems toward the altar. He explains the ceremony, and the person being healed shares, from notes prepared in advance, why they’ve come. The man of service gently helps carry the story so everyone present can feel the Lord’s compassion for them, watching closely so the retelling doesn’t become more than the person can bear.

The barefoot candidate then walks the full circle of paintings, meeting the man of service at the east. Standing on the plant at the center of the painting, facing east, prayers are offered — not from the world where the injury happened, but from within Elda itself. As the prayer is spoken, the sending fan motions the injury downward into the plant beneath their feet, which was created for exactly this purpose and has waited for it since it was first sung to as a seedling. Specific Eerkodeshiy are called by name and invited to come carry the injury away, restoring the person to who they were before it ever touched them — what’s called “laying hold of their beginning.” This same prayer is repeated at each of the four directions in turn, each carrying its own themes, until the circle is complete. On the final round, everyone present walks the circle together behind the person and the man of service.

The Yo-ani-ah Song is then sung, with the man of service gathering the plant bundles from each direction in turn as the song reaches that direction’s verse. When the song ends, everyone declares “Yo-ani-ah” together, and the plants and sand paintings are carried out by someone who will not return to the ceremony — they’ve taken on what was released, and go home afterward to bathe.

The healed person is then painted — a cross on each forearm, a moon on the chest and a sun on the back joined by a rainbow over the shoulder, and a spot of all four direction colors on the face. They bathe, dress in their new clothes, and return to be anointed with the remaining prayer corn, poured last over their head and feet by the man of service — leaving an outline of their feet in corn upon the ground, honoring the place Regel (the hills) felt them return from Elda.

What Follows

The healed person spends four days afterward alone in prayer, meditating on the meaning of each direction, with meals brought by the women and prepared with the same compassion felt during the ceremony. This time exists to fill the space left behind once the injury is gone — a chance to feel new and unburdened. Elders may visit if invited. A coal from the ceremony’s fire is kept afterward, to be used sparingly, only if truly needed, to reawaken that same healing feeling in the future. This ceremony should never be performed if the person will remain in contact with whatever caused the injury — ideally, no contact should be made with that source ever again.

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