Iguana Medicine

Written by avenefica on April 30th, 2009

Tags:  Iguana Symbolism Reptiles | Nature | Personal Observations 

Iguana Thoughts

Iguana Thoughts

Like everybody else I know, sometimes I just feel like a rag that’s been wrung dry. 

Too many deadlines, too much obligation, and too much (self-inflicted) stress and worry.

Thankfully, I have a home remedy for these moments.  I mosey out to my sun porch  wherein my six foot iguana wanders freely.

Why is Spike such good medicine?

Because she reminds me to squeeze the charm out of every moment in life.

She looks out into the world with deep wonder, and appreciation for everything she is experiencing.  Observing her reminds me to do the same.

Iguana medicine is powerful stuff.  It’s like taking a dose of simplicity.  A measure of this Rx puts us in a state of simple joy for the lovely things around us.

Warm sun, fresh air, good food, fine music, a great book, flowers blooming, pleasant company, birds singing,  shade trees, running water – real basic stuff we can all tick off our appreciation check-list.

That’s what iguanas do.  They revel in the simple pleasures.  Each moment in the warmth of the sun is a gift.  Every Johnny Mathis tune is an unexpected pleasure (Spike loves Johnny Mathis), every mouthful of banana - an exquisite treat.

I’ve written more about Spike, and the amazing symbolic lessons she’s shared with me over the years.  You can read all about Spike and her wisdom here.

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8 Comments so far ↓

  1. Hi there …

    I’m working on a blogpost about sacred space, and as I was pondering my topic, I got flashed with your blogpost here. It’s obvious that Spike is one of your animal teachers (and I can relate after being a slave to 10 year old, mentally deranged severe macaw for 4 years), and she is so gorgeous, too. Beautiful dragon, she is. I was thinking that in addition to all those wonderful lessons she gives us, she’s also made your sun porch sacred space in your home.

    Where does Spike go when it’s cold outside?

    Hoping you’ve been able to mount your steed,

    D~

  2. avenefica says:

    Hey D~
    …Had to laugh about your Macaw, completely understand and relate.

    One of my first jobs was @ a pet store. We had a peachy Macaw…earrings put her in a trance, and she would often (uknowingly – let’s hope) yank them off unspespecting ears. With 8 rings on one ear…Sugar and I had a meeting of the minds the first day I learned of her bling addiction. :-}

    Absolutely right, and spot-on observation. The sun porch is a haven. Everything out there sings…communication is really superior out there.

    Spike’s in the sun room year ’round (it’s enclosed). I had the thing winterized (insulation & baseboard heaters installed for an ungodly sum of yin…what we do for our beloveds!).

    hee heeeee! My steeed!!!

  3. Licia Berry says:

    Hey Avia,
    I shared the iguana symbolism post on FaceBook; I hope you don’t mind!
    Thank you again!
    licia

  4. avenefica says:

    Hi Licia – you kidding? Of course I don’t mind! Spike’s thrilled – as it turns out, she’s quite smitten with the idea of stardom.

  5. Liara Covert says:

    These insights are helpful. They remind readers to consider the character traits and environment of an animal as mirroring things about people’s personalities.

    I know a person who frequently encounters iguanas during travel. He interprets this as a sign he needs to eat more fruit, offer unwavering support for a friend in need, and be more perseverent about what matters to him. Just like your article, the universe offers guidance. Its up to each person to reach inside and see things as they are: loving and compassionate tools for change.

  6. avenefica says:

    Hi Liara, you’ve been on my mind, thanks for dropping by. Moreover, thanks for sharing the observations your friend has whilst encounter iguana-kind in his travels. Excellent.

  7. D A Botta says:

    I wonder if this applies to my little bear. (Murphy is a 15-lbs, 2-yrs old Dumbo-eared Yorkshire Terrier.)

    My wife wanted him. I wanted an actual bear: a saint bernard or something. So we adopted him and a took a fair non-dislike of the boy.

    Fast-forward 18 months.

    We have these moments, Murphy and I, on my back deck. He watches the finches and crows and robins, the rabbits and deer and the fat gopher who occasionally waddles through. Even, sometimes, the intimidating coywolf.

    And I watch him
    And them
    Absorbing the natural mystique and gentleness of our woodland friends.
    Peaceful.
    Soothing.
    Sublime.
    Me and my best boy who I never even wanted, and yet now I can’t imagine living without him or our little moments together in tranquility.

  8. D A Botta says:

    That was supposed to say “and I watch him, watching them, and I watch them with him” — love technology.

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