Month 8, Day 3: My Medicine Wheel

I was thinking that maybe what I found lacking in Buddhism last month was the absence of “stuff”—overt symbols to remind me I’m supposed to be practicing the faith.

So, to start this month off right, I decided to do one of my fabulous arts and crafts projects to celebrate being Native American. And I didn’t even have to make something up—some of the books actually suggested this project: a medicine wheel.

According to author Bobby Lake-Thom, making a medicine wheel “reconnects you with the powers in Nature and the ancient, primal, and natural symbols in your own subconscious mind.”

Okay, that sounds a little kooky to me, but I’m willing to give it a shot.

The medicine wheel is divided into four parts. The top, or north, represents the mental aspect of our human nature. The right, or east, is the spiritual. The bottom, or south, represents the emotional side. And the left, or west, is the physical.

Before you make a medicine wheel, you’re supposed to close your eyes and think about the four symbols from nature that you find most appealing, without necessarily trying to figure out why they appeal to you. I’m not good at not analyzing my choices, but I did my best.

The four natural things that popped into my head first were: the owl, the ladybug, the turtle, and the spider.

Just for the record, I had to analyze that last choice a little. Now, I absolutely hate spiders, so it seems odd that my subconscious finds them “appealing.” Maybe I chose spiders because I went to the University of Richmond and the spider was our mascot. Or maybe my new Native American mind thinks I’ll be less terrified when I find a spider in the house if I choose spiders as one of my favorite symbols. I don’t know.

Apparently, at least according to the research I’ve done so far, my choices aren’t all that great, symbol-wise. Owls, for example, are generally considered bad signs. In many Native American cultures, they’re viewed as messengers of illness and death. Oh, well. At least I did a little better picking the turtle, since turtles represent good health and longevity. Of course, with my luck, the messenger of death and the symbol of longevity will cancel each other out and I’ll be stuck in the same old boring place as always.

Anyway, in theory, it’s best to use real items from nature to make the medicine wheel—bending branches or stretching leather to form the structure. But since all I have around this area are brittle old trees and mushy green maple leaves, I went with my old standby: construction paper, printed-out photos, and a glue stick.

I hung up my medicine wheel by the front door. It’s supposed to be a “power” object that will protect me and make me more aware of nature and how I interact with the world around me. I guess we’ll have to see how that works out. At this point, all the damn thing is doing is freaking me out. I really don’t like spiders.