Spider Rock, Canyon de Chelly, Chinle, AZ —  April 2026
Tarantula, My House, AZ – August 2026
Apparently, Spider had more to say.

There is something extraordinary about the spider.

From a single thread, she creates an intricate world. She seems to know where each strand belongs, when to anchor and when to cross an open space. What appears delicate is remarkably strong. Each thread exists on its own, yet its purpose comes from its relationship to the whole.

Perhaps this is why Spider Woman carries such profound meaning among the Diné. She is associated with creation, weaving and wisdom, reminding us that we, too, are weaving all the time. Every choice, relationship and experience becomes another thread within the larger pattern of our lives.

There is beauty and balance within that pattern—Hózhó—the understanding that we live in relationship with all things. Earth and Sky. Human and Spirit. Those who came before us and those who will follow.

But not every web is woven simply for beauty. Sometimes a web is a trap. And this is where Iktómi enters the story.

Within Lakota teachings, Iktómi is spider and trickster—clever, foolish, mischievous and often wonderfully ridiculous. His stories expose pride, greed, certainty and the many ways we humans manage to deceive ourselves. His medicine may seem very different from Spider Woman’s, yet I find something beautiful in placing the two beside one another.

Spider Woman reminds us that everything is connected.

Iktómi reminds us that we can still get tangled in the threads.

Sometimes the lesson arrives through beauty. Sometimes through contradiction. And sometimes the only appropriate response is laughter.

There is medicine in being able to laugh at ourselves. Humor loosens something that certainty holds too tightly. Sometimes the trickster simply allows us to follow our brilliant plan all the way to its ridiculous conclusion and waits for us to notice. Perhaps that, too, belongs within the sacred weave.

Spider Woman teaches us to tend the threads with care. Iktómi reminds us not to become too impressed with our weaving. Somewhere between them is a beautiful way of walking through this life—paying attention to the pattern while remaining humble enough to know we cannot see all of it. And when we inevitably become tangled in our own threads, perhaps the wisest thing we can do is laugh, loosen the knot, and begin weaving again.