SPIDER: THE GREAT WEAVER
A client recently shared with me that when she asked her boyfriend if they could remain friends after a breakup, he replied, “When I put a spider outside, I expect never to see it again.” My initial response, like hers, was one of horror over the cruelty of the analogy. My second was to support her in seeing this is not the kind of guy she needs in her life. My third reaction, was, “Ahhhh, Spider! NOW we are getting somewhere!”
This article is dedicated to this lovely and powerful woman, who like Spiders in wintertime, come into our homes seeking warmth; it’s for women and men who know what it is like to shiver and be left out in the cold, yet whose heart-fires burn steadily and resiliently with yearning for a communal hearth.
Spiders scare most of us, just like lovers. They might bite, and we might become vulnerable, or paralyzed in their presence (with fear, with desire.) They might sneak up on us, or jump out at us, when least expected (like love, romance, and death). When we imagine ourselves being a fly in someone else’s web, it seems like it can only go badly. Yet, the problem may be that we fail to see how we are all both Spider and Fly, and possibly even Web.
Spider
s are helpful hunters, delicate strand walkers, and have two-section bodies shaped like the sign of infinity. They are weavers of intricate webs which mirror Earth’s most sacred geometry, and they generate the silky material for these masterful artworks from their own tiny bodies. These are just a few reasons why Spider has been long revered by First Nation people all over the world as a beloved ancestor. Storytellers since the beginning of time have spun tales of Spider being the Creator of the universe.
The Seneca people, after reading the lines and spirals of the spiders’ brilliant webs, also credited them with creating the very first language. Spider taught humankind the importance of recording spiritual truths for the well being of future generations. Writers and artists alike share Spider as an inspirational totem guide, who reminds them that they too are time-travelers, carrying the wisdom of the ages from past to future.
Every web begins with a single thread. This represents the true nature of reality: that there is an invisible constant running through all living things, and that the world is a complex web united by One force. When a spider shoots her silver thread into the air, she relies on the wind (Spirit) to carry it to a tree branch or window ledge, where it will attach to something rooted in the physical world that can serve as a frame. Creative thoughts are like this to: we spin a thread of an idea, in dreams or imaginings, and throw it into the wind, hoping it will take hold. Many threads float away untethered, and we, as web-weavers, have to try and try again, waiting for one to stick. Imagine what would happen if a spider gave up after one try, or twenty. It’s life depends on continual weaving. So does ours.
The next time you see a spider, let it remind you that you too are a weaver, and God/Allah/Buddha/Great Spirit is calling you back to your job at the Great Loom. What steps can you take, RIGHT NOW, to manifest beauty and sustenance, for yourself, for the world? What color, texture and strength is your thread? What unique shapes and patterns will you create with it? And how will you weave it together with all the webs others create?
Make sure to own your own venom. The power to entangle others, as you simultaneously become entangled with their lives!
Spiders know that while the substance of the web is eternal, sooner or later the form will be broken and blow away in the wind. A new one will have take it’s place; similar, but never the same. Spiders also are expert tight rope walkers, balancing perfectly on the lines that bridge one part of the web to the next. Thus, they are symbols of life and death. For shamans and mystics who must travel between the worlds of the living and the worlds of the dead, Spider can show them how to maintain their equilibrium, and their sanity. For those in mourning, Spider gives a glint of hope for the next web to come.
Spiders make webs to meet their survival needs. Yet webs are gifts of beauty and wisdom for us all. Paula Gunn Allen eloquently describes Grandmother Spider’s power, and her desire to share it with her grandchildren:
Ooma-oo, long ago. The Spider was in the place where only she was. There was no light or dark, there was no warm wind, no rain or thunder. She was a great wise woman, whose powers are beyond imagining. No medicine person, no conjurer or shaman, no witch or sorcerer, no scientist or inventor can imagine how great her power is. Her power is complete and total. It is pure, and cleaner than the void. It is the power of thought, we say, but not the kind of thought people do all the time. It's like the power of dream, but more pure. Like the spirit of vision, but more clear. It has not shape or movement, because it just is. It is the power that creates all that is, and it is the power of all that is.
In that place where she was alone and complete with her power, she thought about her power, how it sang to her, how she dreamed from it, how she wished to have someone to share the song-dream with her. Not because she was lonely, but because the power's song was so complete, she wished for there to be others who could also know it. She knew this was the power's wish just as it was hers. For she and her power were together and of one mind. They were two, but they were the same thing.” (From Paula Gunn Allen’s Grandmothers of the Light, 1991)
In 2016, you might try allowing a spider or two to remain near the ceiling of your home. And if that is too radical an idea, and you have to put them outside, you might consider releasing them in a gentle way; in relocating them in a place that will be safe and warm for both of you.
