Recently, the intrigue of an extraordinary yet ordinary 8-day event captured my attention. Enjoy! And as always, I would love to hear your comments and related experiences.
DAY 1 Wild teachers show up in the most unexpected places, often wearing the most unusual guises. On this day, my teacher glided into my life on eight legs. More precisely, Spider appeared in the kitchen sink: the watering hole of our shared home-ecosystem.
Of course, I have seen spiders here before. What caught my fascination this time was how little I know of this relation that shares space with me. And yet spiders have been revered by Indigenous peoples around the globe. What have I been missing? I yearn to know more, to know beyond my rigidly held conceptualization of spider. I remember stories of Grandmother Spider, Creator of the World, who brought life out of the darkness into the light.
I notice my fear and am disappointed by it. Spider: I care for you and yet I don’t get you. I only see shadow. Even peering through a magnifying glass or shining bright light upon you, I discern no distinct features. My feelings gazing at you are so different from when I look upon a lake, a tree, a flower. There, I become transfixed by light. Here, with you, I am transfixed by shadow, by mystery, by an aversion battling with my desire to know you.
I choose to give this relationship a chance. For now, I do my dishes in a large bowl.
DAY 2 Today I have a clearer view of my kitchen companion. Wolf Spider for sure. Like many people, I carry some degree of aversion to spiders, even though I know spiders seldom bite if left alone. And according to Wolf Spider expert, Dr. George Uetz, all Wolf Spiders are harmless to humans and beneficial, given that they control disease-harbouring insects. Only the Black Widow and Brown Recluse require extra care, as their bites can be fatal.
Wolf Spiders have eight eyes and excellent vision—a sense obviously important to a hunter who chases down prey rather than hanging out in a web. What does “my” Wolf Spider see when she looks at me?
DAY 3 I am amazed to see that Spider is in the sink in the exact same location. I marvel at her ability to remain still. So still. It speaks to me of a patience that I have yet to achieve.
My curiosity gives me pause, and the significance of non-interference arises in my thoughts. Do you need my help? How many times have I tried to “rescue” others like you, only to damage delicate limbs, not to mention likely causing trauma with my clumsy ways? And so, this morning, I simply say hello, and speak my gratitude for your visit.
DAY 4 On this kitchen sink journey, I am being called to see myself in Other. It is much easier to do this practice when I gaze upon a beautiful Rose. Oh yes, there I am, how lovely.
Gazing upon you, Spider with your dull colour, eight slightly hairy legs and extremely strange eyes, I am rather reluctant to find myself. Okay, the slightly hairy legs we do have in common. But other than that?
Even though my shadow mind gets stuck in appearance, the truth is that I am deeply honoured whenever a spider makes an appearance. For me, the spider’s arrival is a gentle reminder to reflect on creativity. Am I honouring time to be creative? Am I creating beauty?
I see the importance of going beyond form and into the essence of life. Thank you, Spider.
DAY 5 I must say that I am very pleased with myself when I remember to remember that the sink doubles as shelter for my Spider relation. Day 5 and no spider catastrophes!
Today my awareness and the spider’s patience are rewarded. For there, beside my eight-legged friend, is a shiny ball. I do believe it is an egg sack! My Facebook Friends (who obviously watch spiders too, given their quick and definite answers to my photo inquiry) confirm the tiny pearl-like ball glued to the drain is indeed an egg sac. I even found a website that helps spider enthusiasts identify egg sacs. Further research suggests the egg sack belongs to a Narrow-legged Wolf Spider (Pardosa spp.). The western scientist in me craves names, details and studies. The land relations seeker in me is puzzled and frustrated by my lack of ability to understand this house mate. What good is a name if we can’t communicate? My heart tells me she is not indifferent to my presence. Could it be that leaving an egg sac in such a vulnerable place is a sign of trust? Today, I am going with that story.
DAY 6 While my heart struggles to find authentic connection with Mama Spider, I have to admit that I am quite enthralled by the beautiful pearl that holds new life. I have blocked off the kitchen sink, for fear of forgetting and accidently washing the egg sac down the drain. Mama Spider stays close by. I see the tips of her legs poking out the drain holes.
The tiny sphere feels like a relationship bridge to Spider. Now I feel we are together in caring for these young ones. Now I understand that my actions in this moment connect with our shared future.
DAY 7 Still waiting. Still doing my dishes in a large bowl.
The egg sac remains glued in place, but Mama Spider is gone. In this space of contemplation, my mind ponders those bizarre spider eyes. The eight eyes of the wolf spider are set in three rows with the smallest set of four lined up low in front row and the four much larger eyes strategically placed on the top and the rear of the “head.” What’s with that?
Grandma Spider, what big eyes you have! All the better to see you with, my dear.
Grandma Spider, why do you have so many eyes? All the better to see you with, my dear! Grandma Spider, why do your eyes point in so many directions? All the better to see you with, my dear!
Grandma Spider, you see me. How can I see you better?
Perhaps you only see what others have told you? I am ugly. I am scary. I am dangerous. I am dirty. And by association, if you like spiders, then you must be all those things too. Such ideas cloud your heart’s ability to see my divinity. See me with your heart, not your mind. Feel me with your heart, not your shadow-world. See what is possible with heart wide open.
DAY 8 I really want my sink back!
I call out my plans down the sink drain, just in case Mama Spider is still there and gently move the egg sack onto a tiny piece of delicately sculpted driftwood. The curved hollows seem perfect to hold the silken pearl.
Who would think coming face-to-face with one’s shadow world was possible watching a spider in a shiny kitchen sink?
Spider, you are Divinity expressed in a form that reveals my ignorance of your version of this world. I know that I care about your egg sac. And I know I haven’t got a clue whether I am helping or hindering.
Now we are in the liminal space of waiting. I know I will be both thrilled and appalled to see your young emerge. I am left suspended between illusion and truth, between shadow and light. What shall be birthed on this journey into oneness?
Transfixed I remain.
Yours truly,
Willow
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