To Mourn the Death of...A Spider
Yeah, yeah, a spider. I know. The screech-worthy, eight-legged critter that some people I know are deathly afraid of.
To be fair, I don't particularly love spiders myself. But I'm also the one that while everyone else is still busy screaming, will go for a shoe. (True story.) In fact, there's been a lot of spider issues going on in my life the past few days. The mysterious spider that my sister found and was tentatively identified as a camel spider, as well as the two my coworker and I found while cleaning instruments.
This particular spider was safely on the other side of glass.
My uncle arrived to take me to work, and I climbed into his car. I didn't notice it at first, but as we headed into town, I realized it was on the window. It was hanging by one, glistening strand of web.
I'd seen numerous bugs fly off the windshield or windows on the drive to town. It's a ten-minute drive at fifty-five miles an hour, so they don't usually last very long. So I watched it, to see when it would fly off.
The little bugger had one end of his web attached to the window, and as we flew down the road, it got longer and longer. After about eight minutes, I started hoping he would still be there when we stopped. I was planning on removing him from the car, and putting him someplace a little safer for a spider than the outside of a car.
When we passed city limits, we hit the first red light, and he started to move. It looked like he was trying to get down to the ground, but he wasn't moving very fast, and the light changed before he made it very far. So he hunkered down again as we went on our way.
My uncle had a pit stop to make before work, so he parked the car and went to run his errand. I waited in the car, and watched the spider. He wasn't moving. Hadn't moved since the red light. Despite much tapping of the glass, he remained motionless.
When my uncle came back and we went to work, he was still motionless. I was sure he was dead. I'd never seen a bug last as long on a car during that drive. And after he'd tried to get down to the ground at the last stop, I didn't understand why he wasn't moving then, when it was actually safe.
When we finally arrived at work, I'd decided that I would check and see if he was, in fact, dead, before going inside. I pulled out a piece of paper, and scooped him up.
He immediately uncurled and ran at my fingers. Because, apparently, the fact that he'd undergone a near-death experience had rattled his little bug-brain into thinking rushing at a human wasn't going to end in instant death. Luckily for him, it was me holding the paper and not various other relatives and acquaintances, because he probably would have been squashed into prompt oblivion.
I dropped the paper, of course. A suicidal spider crawling on me wasn't exactly my idea of a good time. I did not, however, stomp on or swat at it. I'd just gone through a few stages of grief at thinking the poor thing was dead. I wasn't going to make it a reality.
He was alive. And yes, I was happy that he was. This spider's body was smaller than the nail of my pinkie finger. It clung to a car, traveling at fifty-five miles per hour, for ten minutes. And that's not counting the amount of time he spent hanging on at a lower speed. That little spider hung on for dear life. It wanted to live. It persevered, it held on. It's ordeal had made it go a little daffy, but still.
How many of us are shamed by the spider?
Would you have held on that long? Would you have given up and fallen to your death at some point during those ten minutes?
How many of us, when faced with an obstacle to something we want or need, give up because we can't see the end?
Yes, sometimes we should give up. Sometimes it's better for us if we do. Sometimes what we want is not good for us. BUT. But on those occasions when it's something important, when your life or peace of mind could hang in the balance, would you hold on like the spider?
Would you hang on to a happy (or grateful, peaceful, joyful, positive, etc.) attitude with the determination of a spider to save its life? Or would you let it go when it gets hard?
I was (silently) cheering for that spider. I wanted it to survive. Do we cheer for own fellows during their times of difficulty? The spiders can't understand us, but the people can. A strong cheering section can be a very powerful thing. Encourage each other.
But, like the spider, don't depend on your own cheering section. He couldn't hear anything, and if he could, he wouldn't have understood it. But that didn't stop him, did it? If you don't have a cheering section, keep going. That's no reason to give it up. But if, like the spider, you hang on, you might find that you end up with people encouraging you anyway.
Most people don't really like spiders. There's something creepy and off-putting about them; in fact, I don't really care for them. I don't like to kill them, but they're not my favorite creatures. You have to admit, however, that there are things we can learn, even from the weirdest, strangest, or creepiest creatures.
But I think going a little nuts isn't one of them. I'm pretty sure we can all do that without help. ;)
To be fair, I don't particularly love spiders myself. But I'm also the one that while everyone else is still busy screaming, will go for a shoe. (True story.) In fact, there's been a lot of spider issues going on in my life the past few days. The mysterious spider that my sister found and was tentatively identified as a camel spider, as well as the two my coworker and I found while cleaning instruments.
This particular spider was safely on the other side of glass.
My uncle arrived to take me to work, and I climbed into his car. I didn't notice it at first, but as we headed into town, I realized it was on the window. It was hanging by one, glistening strand of web.
I'd seen numerous bugs fly off the windshield or windows on the drive to town. It's a ten-minute drive at fifty-five miles an hour, so they don't usually last very long. So I watched it, to see when it would fly off.
The little bugger had one end of his web attached to the window, and as we flew down the road, it got longer and longer. After about eight minutes, I started hoping he would still be there when we stopped. I was planning on removing him from the car, and putting him someplace a little safer for a spider than the outside of a car.
When we passed city limits, we hit the first red light, and he started to move. It looked like he was trying to get down to the ground, but he wasn't moving very fast, and the light changed before he made it very far. So he hunkered down again as we went on our way.
My uncle had a pit stop to make before work, so he parked the car and went to run his errand. I waited in the car, and watched the spider. He wasn't moving. Hadn't moved since the red light. Despite much tapping of the glass, he remained motionless.
When my uncle came back and we went to work, he was still motionless. I was sure he was dead. I'd never seen a bug last as long on a car during that drive. And after he'd tried to get down to the ground at the last stop, I didn't understand why he wasn't moving then, when it was actually safe.
When we finally arrived at work, I'd decided that I would check and see if he was, in fact, dead, before going inside. I pulled out a piece of paper, and scooped him up.
He immediately uncurled and ran at my fingers. Because, apparently, the fact that he'd undergone a near-death experience had rattled his little bug-brain into thinking rushing at a human wasn't going to end in instant death. Luckily for him, it was me holding the paper and not various other relatives and acquaintances, because he probably would have been squashed into prompt oblivion.
I dropped the paper, of course. A suicidal spider crawling on me wasn't exactly my idea of a good time. I did not, however, stomp on or swat at it. I'd just gone through a few stages of grief at thinking the poor thing was dead. I wasn't going to make it a reality.
He was alive. And yes, I was happy that he was. This spider's body was smaller than the nail of my pinkie finger. It clung to a car, traveling at fifty-five miles per hour, for ten minutes. And that's not counting the amount of time he spent hanging on at a lower speed. That little spider hung on for dear life. It wanted to live. It persevered, it held on. It's ordeal had made it go a little daffy, but still.
How many of us are shamed by the spider?
Would you have held on that long? Would you have given up and fallen to your death at some point during those ten minutes?
How many of us, when faced with an obstacle to something we want or need, give up because we can't see the end?
Yes, sometimes we should give up. Sometimes it's better for us if we do. Sometimes what we want is not good for us. BUT. But on those occasions when it's something important, when your life or peace of mind could hang in the balance, would you hold on like the spider?
Would you hang on to a happy (or grateful, peaceful, joyful, positive, etc.) attitude with the determination of a spider to save its life? Or would you let it go when it gets hard?
I was (silently) cheering for that spider. I wanted it to survive. Do we cheer for own fellows during their times of difficulty? The spiders can't understand us, but the people can. A strong cheering section can be a very powerful thing. Encourage each other.
But, like the spider, don't depend on your own cheering section. He couldn't hear anything, and if he could, he wouldn't have understood it. But that didn't stop him, did it? If you don't have a cheering section, keep going. That's no reason to give it up. But if, like the spider, you hang on, you might find that you end up with people encouraging you anyway.
Most people don't really like spiders. There's something creepy and off-putting about them; in fact, I don't really care for them. I don't like to kill them, but they're not my favorite creatures. You have to admit, however, that there are things we can learn, even from the weirdest, strangest, or creepiest creatures.
But I think going a little nuts isn't one of them. I'm pretty sure we can all do that without help. ;)
No comments have been added yet.
