Month 9, Day 11: A Shinto Flashback to Native American Religion

I don’t know what’s going on. Last month, when I was studying Native American religions, all the experts said I should keep a lookout for “signs” in nature—unusual animal sightings and that sort of thing. Other than spotting my first hummingbird and having a terrifying conversation with what may have been the world’s smallest spider, though, most of my interactions with nature last month proved unimpressive.

This month, however, it’s like I hit the jackpot when it comes to unusual nature omens (or, at least, unusual for me). I’m not only seeing more creatures than ever, but I’m seeing some of the exact same animals I chose as my special “totem” symbols for last month’s Medicine Wheel: the owl, spider, turtle, and ladybug.

For the record, I’m a child of the suburbs—and the “urbanized” suburbs, really. I think of myself as a city girl. I’ve never been camping (except Girl Scout camp, which all the nature-loving people here in Pennsylvania tell me doesn’t count). Most of my interactions with animals have been limited to zoos or my own pets. And I’m fine with that.

But things have changed. Despite my attempts to force interactions with nature last month, this month nature seems to be coming to me.

Last week, a spider—one of my “special” totem creatures—built a web and had babies right above my sliding glass door. Of course, that just meant I had to duck and cover every time I took the dogs out for their walk. (Luckily, the spider family appears to have vacated the premises, so I can now come and go as I please without brushing my head frantically, checking to make sure no spiders jumped on me, every time I move through the doorway.)

Over the weekend, my boyfriend and I went for a walk at the local park and saw a bunch of owls. Okay, sure, they were stuffed and they were just on display at the nature center, but that’s the closest I’ve ever come to seeing an owl in the wild, so I think it counts.

He may be stuffed, but look how CUTE this owl is!

We also saw several turtles at the park, either swimming in the lake or sunning themselves on rocks. Other than a stray turtle I once saw walking around the power station near a building where I used to work, I’d never seen a turtle in nature before. In fact, it was only last week that I even saw a pet turtle in an aquarium for the first time. So I was excited to see so many of the little guys in their natural habitat. (My boyfriend claims we would have seen lots more animals if I hadn’t been whooping and hollering and clapping in excitement at seeing all the turtles. I claim he’s a party pooper.)

This turtle swam right up to us. I suspect he thought we had a nice snack for him, but other than the stuffed owl in my purse, I had nothing to offer.

But even so, I was writing all these nature sightings off as coincidence—until this morning. I was driving along on my way to run an errand when I saw something up ahead in the road. I assumed it was a dead bird or other piece of road kill, so I positioned my car over it carefully, to avoid squashing it yet again. It wasn’t until I was mere inches away that I realized the object in the road wasn’t a dead creature. It was a small, very much alive turtle.

Fortunately, I didn’t hit it when I passed over. I checked the rearview as soon as I went by and the little guy was still chugging along just fine, if slowly—although I can’t vouch for his mental health after having a big old car nearly crush him. The good news is that I drive a Volkswagen Beetle, so my car isn’t all that intimidating.

Anyway, my point is that all these nature sightings are making me wonder what’s going on. Part of me wants to think it all means something. After all, Shinto is a nature-based faith, just like Native American religions were. The optimist in me wants to believe that the gods (which are called kami in Shinto—more on that next time) are trying to show me that everything ties in together, that all religions are one, and that there really is some kind of larger meaning in the world.

But the skeptic in me thinks it’s all a load of crap and there’s no meaning anywhere. I’m seeing animals because I’m getting out of the house more, instead of curling up with a book in a bubble bath like I’ve done for years. I don’t know. I’m going to try to stay positive. And if I see a ladybug—the only one of my totem animals I haven’t yet spotted this month—then maybe I’ll believe.