When I was young I was terrified of spiders.
And yet, I couldn’t bear the thought of killing them.
I would convince my dad to carefully transport any spider I came across indoors, outdoors. I logically knew that wasn’t necessarily ridding my space of the creepy crawlies, but it gave me a sense of enforced boundaries at least.
I have no interest in a spider being anywhere near my person, as an adult - but the fear has passed. My house has spiders that take up residence throughout the outside facing perimeters: everything from small spiders to large orb weavers. They weave webs in the siding and between the rungs on the deck fence.
Occasionally, I am made aware of some small house spiders in our kitchen or on the walls. They keep a respectful distance and generally only the remembrance of webs can be seen in the rafters of the open ceiling main floor.
Spiders no longer scare me. Much peace has been made. These days I see them as physically small, energetically large boundary keepers of my physical spaces. The undercurrent of respect between species has been maintained: they keep their distance (aka, not on my person) and I keep mine.
Spiders represent in many tales messengers of wisdom, protection and cyclical intuition. They are strategic predators and mindful cohabitators. The instinct to keep a distance from them is woven into our bones, which perhaps also permits a fascination and respect from those paying attention to today’s world.
To apprentice (my new favourite phrase for witnessing, mindful observation, inquiry) to a spider is to apprentice in the endless creation and destruction, life and death cycle of existence.
They weave to bring death, which allows life, knowing the web will be destroyed and created again. An endless spinning. Many myths from different cultures link spiders to deities of creation, destruction, destiny, love and war. Perhaps a summery statement of the symbology here would be that spiders embody the paradox of cyclical living. All things, even the dark, scary and violent, serve the the greater whole.
We don’t know where life is threading us through or what the next moment may hold. We weave together a semblance of awareness based on predictive biology for the sake of sanity and efficiency, and still anything can change at any moment. Like the spiders, we are tasked with re-weaving our webs very routinely.
If you’ve ever seen the ruins of a spiders web, left over in the morning light - crystals of dew or frost glittering in the remains - you have also witnessed the beauty to be found in remembrance. In the witnessing of what was lost or destroyed we face the reverence that comes with grief.
This is a lot to put on small arachnids that perhaps just non-symbolically have found a good home in the in-between spaces of the house I too live in. To zoom in and project meaning onto beings simply following their lines in this lifetime is distinctly, I think, human. I’ll also offer the distinction that I live in a part of the world where spiders are not lethal.
I think, though, that younger version of me was onto something. A healthy (if sometimes irrational) fear met with a reverence and respect is often a necessary approach to today’s inconveniences and adversities.
Spiders have taught me a lot about being scared and strategically dealing with fear with small doses of curiosity.
Destroying or avoiding the source of fear while often the recommended action only felt like amplification - freezing myself unseasonably to one part of the cycle.
If curiosity was invited in alongside fear, the outcome allowed movement. Spiders were relocated and I could rest easy.
Now, every night as I wait for the dog to do important business, I observe the spiders beginning the end. I watch them start as small weavers and grow large through the season. I wish them good night and good morning. I thank them for their protection and mentorship. I thank them for their respect of space.
“Unapologetic, spider is nature, forever spinning its strings of vitality and devastation.” Book of Symbols, Taschen
Somatic Practice: Dancing with the Spider Within
This practice invites you to embody the wisdom of spiders - their patience, strategic approach to fear, and cyclical understanding of creation and destruction.
Cycle of Creation and Destruction
Lie on your back. As you inhale deeply, spread your limbs wide, expanding like a spider's web being created. Hold this expansion at the top of your breath. As you exhale, slowly draw your limbs inward, like a web being gathered back to its center. Repeat this cycle 7-10 times, embodying the constant weaving and unweaving of life's patterns.
Journaling Prompts: Spider Wisdom
Reflect on a situation where fear initially paralyzed you, but curiosity eventually led to understanding. How did this transformation feel in your body?
Like a spider that rebuilds its web after destruction, write about a time when you had to start again after a loss or setback. What did you learn from this process?
How might you "apprentice" to something that once frightened you? What could you learn from this mindful observation?
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