With my spider catcher in one hand (a small red plastic cup) and the cover for it in my other (a thin piece of cardboard), these are the first words I said to the walnut-sized spider in the bottom curvature of the bathroom sink. There’s an unwritten, unspoken rule in my home: spiders that show themselves may have a message for me and/or desire relocation out-of-doors. You could say I’ve been fairly successful, with a kill/maim rate of spiders, bugs, flies, bees and wasps at less than 1%. Not that I’m keeping score. My son gave me the idea, years ago, when he’d ward off my killer arm, the end of which held a fly swatter. “Wait, Mom! I’ll catch it.” How he managed this is beyond me, but I quickly realized that a catch/release program meant there wasn’t a blood and guts cleanup afterwards. (His sons have a different approach. If seen on the sidewalks, it’s a death wish…Smash…)
I’ve never been harmed by a spider that I can remember so I don’t mind covering them on a flat surface such as the floor, carpet, or wall and slipping the cardboard beneath. But in a corner, anything can happen. “Don’t freak me out,” I said, lowering the cup, getting a feel for the angles and infinite possibilities. The bottom edge of the cup touched the bottom of the sink, a hair from the Spider’s right back leg. In thinking Spider would bolt and end up on the much flatter sink bottom, I was prepared to jerk the cup out of the way, (1) hover, (2) cover, (3) slip cardboard into place (4) head for backyard (5) release amongst cedar planters. What I wasn’t prepared for happened. Spider paused momentarily at the end of Don’t freak me out, turned toward the cup and crawled right in.
What…I just had to ask?
That afternoon, I performed another catch/release of another smaller spider on the wall above the phone. No, I didn’t ask. Two spiders, the second above the phone could only mean one thing: a message.
Maybe it’s because I grew up on a small farm full of all kinds of creatures large and small that I feel such an affinity for them. It wasn’t until my adult years, however, that I began reading/researching/studying mythology and an indigenous reverence for all things living. One of my favorite texts today is a personal copy of Ted Andrews’s book, Animal Speak – the Spiritual & Magical Powers of Creatures Great & Small. It’s such a great reference for me; I’ve had the spine removed and the pages placed on a coil so it can be left open for easy access while I ponder messages and meanings. I think when Source Energy – however you wish to name/define it – sees an avenue by which synchronistic order may travel, you begin to take notice.
For each creature in Andrews’ book, there’s a photograph or drawing and a keynote phrase. For instance, the Spider keynote is: Creativity and the Weaving of Fate, followed by a global introduction: ”The spider has shown up in myth and lore throughout the world….In India it was associated with Maya, the weaver of illusion. It has had connections to the Fates in Greek mythology and in Scandinavian lore–women who would weave, measure, and cut the threads of life. To Native Americans, spider is grandmother, the link to the past and the future.”
From there on, creature habits and instincts, food, life cycle are examined. Something usually pops out for me, as in this case, “As delicate as they are, spiders are also very agile. They can maintain balance and walk the tiny silken threads with ease. To walk the threads of life and maintain balance has been one of the mysteries throughout the ages.” And each segment ends with something to the effect – “If spider has come into your life, ask yourself some important questions…”
Summarily, questions arose regarding balance and creative opportunities. “Do you need to write?” Ahhhh, yes. “Spider can teach how to use the written language with power and creativity so that your words weave a web around those who would read them.”
So, dear reader…do you have a tale to weave about how you asked a question, or crossed paths with a creature that led to a discovery, a dream, a message? Do you want to share with this Montana Muse and my readers?
Congrats on your new blog. Don’t like smushing them, either. I like spiders in my house; I leave them alone. Other bugs go out, but not the spiders. They are my little friends.
I Love how the little ones in nautre share so much with us about our world… we can learn so much, and share so much with them.
One early spring morning I was at a popular breakfast house in my old home town in Colorado. My tea had just been delivered and I was pondering the breakfast selections. I was distracted all of a sudden by a nickel sized spider that crawled eye level with me on the outside of the large glass window. She was clearly looking at me. She had not been there a minute before when I was looking out the window at the crisp, lazy morning. I thought to myself, “where did she come from?” I looked at her for awhile, sipped my tea and wondered if she was warm enough. She was the first spider I had seen ouside in the early sping. She seemed to be listening to my thoughts… So, I asked her how her morning was and if she had a breakfast as interesting as what I was about to order (9-grain pancakes!) She seemed intriqued by me.
The waitress came by to take my order and asked me about my friend. I asked if she knew “my friend,” and she said she’d never seen a spider on the window before. The waitress left, and “my friend” was still waiting for me. I felt like the spider was waiting for me for something. So I asked her, if there something you want to share with me or need from me? To my amazement, she moved a tiny leg just enough that I saw what she was over shadowing… a tiny, baby spider. There seemed to be only one, and this mama spider actually seemed proud to show me! I told her that her baby was beautiful, and I actually believed it. I felt she was sharing something sacred with me. We had a sweet moment together appreciating each other. The waitress brought my breakfast, so I was distracted for a moment. When I looked back to visit my new friend, she was gone. I missed her.
I never told anyone about this little sharing in life. I catch and release many spiders, and I have my whole life, but this moment was clearly a sharing unlike I had experienced before. I still have a smile in my heart about it. I didn’t get a “message” from the spider, simply a sharing together of one of life’s greatest joys no matter who or what you are–babies in the spring are always precious!
I had a spider on the ceiling above my bed the other night. I said, “Pleeeease don’t fall into my bed before I get the cup and paper and put you outside!” I was really just pleading, praying and panicking. Hadn’t read Sarah’s story yet. However, it was still there when I came back with the “spider catcher.” Maybe it did actually hear me and complied! Who knows?
(p.s. this is my first reply to a blog. Sarah, I guess that makes you my first blog, which is meant much nicer than it sounds!)