Along Came a Spider and Sat Down Beside Her

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By Kate Poux

Laura’s Turtle Blog made me wonder about my spirit animal these days. A couple months ago, a spider made a web inside our kitchen nook window. At the time we were suffering a fruit fly invasion, so my daughter got really good at wafting the fruit flies into Tom Holland’s web and then we would all watch with delight as Tom spindled across his web, grabbed the fruit fly and returned to center point all in about 3 seconds. Tom shed several exoskeletons, his web got way more sophisticated and drops of fruit fly blood began to collect on the window sill, and now we are all very attached and unable to release him into the wild where I know he belongs. 

So, obviously, spider spirit animal. According to Trusted Psychic Mediums, spiders represent feminine energy, creativity and patience awaiting their prey. They also reference your “shadow self”, the darker aspects of your personality that you often try to repress or deny. I decide to practice opening myself to the ugly thoughts, jealousy, anger flashes, and try to weave myself a web with them, use them to attract my prey. But what is my prey? Along came a spider and sat down beside her and said, “What do you want?” 

I proprioceptive write about it. I feel like I don’t belong, all the time.  I list and describe all the ways and all the people who belong better than me. What do I mean by belong? Long for something you don’t have. An absence. Follow the longing. Where does it go? Be the longing. You are what you long for. You belong. Be what you long for. What do you hope will come into this web made of your most ugly dark thoughts?

And in this writing meditation, I realize that I long for this right now, the feeling that I’m having as I write, the feeling of “Holy shit, look what just came out of my brain.” I long for this moment of awareness, gratitude for a spider, company of a dog, understanding from a man who pulls me out of the damp cracks I crawl into, smiling awareness from my daughter as she catches my drift, warm floors, golden sparkling tree. Kale growing out of my back bones, shoulder blades reaching into the back yard with dark leafy wings. Shriveled fuchsia blossom, more beautiful in it’s withering, like my long dead neighbor Machi who grew them, still watching. Still smiling and approving, affirming me as a mother and wife. Dead people keeping watch over me. 

My recent embrace of 50 and midlife has opened up a willingness to trust myself that I didn’t used to feel. I can sometimes follow the darkness, sit down beside myself, and come out in a beautiful place. It takes quiet and space.  It’s patient, spinning a web out of whatever is inside or around me, sometimes catching joy.