Moving Through the Cycles of Life — Native Wisdom and the 8 Directions

One thing that has always connected me to nature and brought me comfort is knowing that life moves in cycles. There are low times, but I have complete faith that it will come full circle to good times again. The native cultures knew this better than any of us, and used these cycles to improve their lives, so for years I have looked to their wisdom and teachings for guidance. ​

Many, if not all, native and ancient civilizations oriented their daily lives around the seasons. They honored the cardinal directions of North, South, East and West, and built their lives around them. Here are some examples:

• Native American Medicine Wheel
• Chinese Baqua (seen most often in Feng Shui)
• Celtic Seasons (and whoever built Stonehenge!)
• The Christian cross is seen by some as marking the cardinal directions
• Ancient Egyptian pyramids
• Pacific Islander excellent sea navigation
• San bushmen of South Africa live by the time of sun and rain
• Dutch colonial homes that maximize sunlight distribution

Each of the directions has a symbolic association or characteristic and energy as well. For instance, one direction may represent fire, or one of the elements, while another direction is good to face when praying. These associations are clearly seen in cultures all around the world, and are seen as a way to guide us through the Cycles of Life.

“The Natural Cycle is an Orienter, for its directional arrows tell you both literally and metaphorically where you are, not only in geographic space and in time, but also in terms of cultural identity and life wisdom.”
— “Coyote’s Guide to Connecting with Nature,” p.200

It could be that these cycles affect us more than we realize. How do you feel in the morning? After lunch time? Watching a sunset? Below I will share some meanings behind these directions that I have found useful in noticing and embracing the cycles of my days, months and years. These are also referred to as the 8 Shields, an eight direction cultural life map developed by Jon Young and the Eight Shields Institute. I use these mostly when I reflect on my day, week or month, but also when I plan my nature camps. Whether it’s a two hour class, or full day or week of camp, we flow through our time together in the same ways.

For a free PDF of the image above, visit my Blog (niksennature.com)

I’ll start with the East, where the sun rises. Think of how you feel in the morning (unless you’re like me and hate mornings, I guess). Most people feel a sense of newness, like the birth of a new day. This direction is also associated with Spring and new life, as well as the excitement and inspiration that comes from this burst of energy.

Then we move into our Southeast time of day, which is like mid-morning, when you’re starting your work for the day. This time is representative of childhood and rapid growth. We play, learn and grow, and we orient ourselves around our work and focus on it.

South is an intense time. It is the period of mid-day, where we’ve overcome inertia and are in full swing. This is a period similar to adolescence, when our growth is exponential, both internally and externally. We are working hard to take advantage of daylight hours, and to build our identity and sharpen our focus.

After reaching our peak, we settle into the resting period of the Southwest. This is our “Siesta” time of day, our rest after work or school. This time is similar to late summer, when animal parents watch their children go off on their own, and plants are now looking internally to build their support systems to get ready for fruit. For humans, it is the period between adolescence and adulthood, where we find ourselves more independent and are in a period of slowing down and internalizing all the hard work of adolescence.

As the sun sets, we move to the West, or the end of the day. It is Autumn, or harvest time, and we gather and share a meal with our friends and family. We are fully into our adulthood now, and bear fruit, such as children, families, or careers that we’ve been building. We gather with our communities to share our bounty.

In the Northwest, we begin to settle down and reflect on our day (or our life) as twilight approaches. It is now late Autumn, and many plants start to decay back into the Earth. The feeling is of letting go and death. Perhaps this is why Halloween and Dia de los Muertos fall at this time of year. Our adulthood is winding down, and we turn from focusing on our accomplishments to focusing on our place in the community and how to support it.

Next is a time of deep darkness in the North. It is the middle of the night, the middle of winter, and we have entered our human role as an elder. We now aim to take our experiences and pass them on to younger generations. The reflection in our late adulthood has left us with what we feel is essential to our lives, and to the community. In nature, seeds and egg sacs have become dormant, waiting for the next, and last, part of the cycle.

The last part of the cycle represents death, but also conception of new life to come. In the Northeast, we mourn the death of life, but there is also a twinkle of new light on the horizon. It is the pre-dawn hours, and there is mystery and wonder around what is coming. Winter is starting to thaw, and new life is stirring.

As I move from North to Northwest, and get ready for bed, I’m reflecting on all of the things that nature has taught me over the years. I realize that it is through Niksen Nature, or spending time in nature with no purpose or goal, that I discover the most about myself and the world around me. Over time, I start to tune in to these natural cycles, and they give my life more meaning and understanding, and help me to be more patient with myself and get curious about my current situation to find creative paths forward.

“Perhaps once we tune into these natural cycles with our conscious awareness, we will see — just like watching a magic trick with wiser eyes — subtle happenings that we’ve been subject to all along but never fully appreciated. Perhaps then we can say, ‘Hey, let me see that deck of cards…’ and perform magic ourselves.” ​- “Coyote’s Guide to Connecting with Nature,” p.201

Tuning into things we don’t normally notice in nature, honing our senses, and opening our eyes to wonders we didn’t know existed helps us grow in so many ways. ​This awareness allows us to continually grow and deepen our connections. Not only do we connect with ourselves, but to one another, to the environment, and to our ancestors that carried this knowledge for generations.