The Bear Carries Its Own Medicine
As our SUV curved along the winding mountain road to Taos Pueblo, storm clouds gathered in the sky.
I was traveling with a group of friends and colleagues to visit a Native American settlement that is one of the oldest inhabited structures in North America.
Finally, we pulled into the parking lot for the pueblo. As I stepped out of the SUV, I drew in a deep breath of the cool mountain air, scented with ozone. Ahead of us, we could see the ancient structure, a multi-story dwelling built from adobe bricks–earth mixed with water and straw–over 1000 years ago. The mud-colored structure looked like something between an apartment building and a small city, complete with doors, windows, and ladders traditionally used to access the upper levels. Standing out against the background of mountains and thunder clouds, it was an impressive sight.
Then the sky darkened, and rain began to fall. We hurried from the parking lot into the area of the pueblo that was open to the public, where the structure provided at least some degree of shelter. As we wandered the grounds, mostly deserted that day, a tall, middle-aged Native man with long, black hair greeted us from the doorway of one of the earthen dwellings. He waved for us to come inside.
Grateful to be out of the rain, we found ourselves in a small shop owned by Autumn Deer, an artist and craftsman as well as a Pueblo elder. He served us hot tea and told us about the various crafts practiced by the Pueblo people, as well as a little about a traditional religious festival they were preparing for. I listened with rapt attention: as a lifelong student of world religions, I was curious about the indigenous religion of the Pueblo people, especially as it is kept almost entirely secret from outsiders.
As I browsed the shop, one item stood out to me. It was a small, carved stone figurine of a bear, with a tiny obsidian arrowhead strapped to its back with a piece of beaded twine. I picked it up and felt the smooth stone in my hands. Autumn Deer walked over to me. “That’s Medicine Bear,” he said. He pointed to the arrowhead. “You see,” he said, “the bear carries its own medicine on its back.”
Autumn Deer’s words immediately resonated with me. Although he was speaking in the language of metaphor, I nodded with recognition.
In my admittedly limited understanding of Native American cultures, “medicine” is not just a physical substance used to treat disease, like the pills our Western civilization relies on, or even the traditional herbal medicines. It’s a broader concept that includes a sense of spiritual power.
That the bear carries its own medicine, means that it has the inner resources it needs to maintain balance and heal itself. I could see the lesson there both for myself, and for the clients I worked with.
I purchased the Medicine Bear statue from Autumn Deer, and since that trip, it has sat on a shelf in my therapy office, reminding me of its lessons.
***
A couple of years later, when I was working at a treatment center for people with severe mental illness, I had a new client assigned to me. He was a young Native American man, coming to us from New Mexico, where, although he was a promising student and talented artist, his symptoms of schizophrenia and substance use had forced him to take a leave of absence from university.
As he first walked into my office and made his way to the couch, he stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. He pointed to the Medicine Bear on my bookshelf. “Can I touch it?” he asked. “Of course,” I said. He held the bear in his hands, feeling the contours of the stone and carefully running a finger over the knapped edge of the obsidian arrowhead.
He recognized the design. Although this client came from a different pueblo elsewhere in New Mexico, it reminded him of home. I told him about my visit to Taos and what Autumn Deer had shared with me about the symbolism of the bear who carried his own medicine. He smiled, immediately understanding how the metaphor applied to his situation.
The bear became a literal as well as a figurative touchstone for us. It helped me build an initial rapport with this client who had a very different background and life experiences from me, a white person from Southern California. Each time he came to my office, he would spend a moment with the bear before sitting down and beginning our session.
***
One of the most deeply held beliefs of the great therapists and healers I have studied, from classic figures like Carl Jung to more recent teachers like Richard Schwartz, is that the client has all the resources they need to heal, already inside of them. In coaching, there is a similar understanding that the client has all the answers they need. The role of a good therapist or coach is to provide a safe, empathically-attuned relationship and ask the deeper questions that allow those answers to emerge.
This is a powerful lesson, and I believe it’s an ongoing process for each of us to learn to access our own inner wisdom and embody it in our lives. So often we turn to external authorities or information sources for answers, whether it’s a priest, a guru, the latest self-help book, or the internet. But the wisest teachers have always pointed us inward. What medicine do we carry? How can we bring it forth and use it to benefit ourselves and others?
These are not always easy questions to answer, but every time I see the Medicine Bear sitting on my bookshelf, I’m reminded to ask.
***
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