This morning, early, I took my camera outside to capture what looked like froth covering everything. Trees, long grass, bushes and the fence. Closer up I recognized the froth.
They got me thinking.
Yesterday, in the hot bright sunshine, I saw not one of them. They were all invisible until this morning’s heavy dew painted them clearly for my eyes to see. And that is the whole plan. If I was a fly, this could be dead dodgy. I could ping into one of those sticky tendrils and be lunch in seconds. If I was a wasp or one of our honey bees, I might be dinner instead, for no spider will attack things with stings immediately, for very obvious reasons. And they always know, the spiders. I have watched, many times, a stinging thing fly into a web and become part of it whilst the spider dashes out, stops dead and dashes back again to wait. Things with stings have more time for an escape plan.
In life, we all know the feeling of being caught in a web. The ‘spider’ in charge may be bigger and more powerful than us, or half our size, but this fact matters not one jot in the end. Once we are trapped, and held fast by the web, we can either struggle ourselves into an even tighter fix, or we can work ourselves free.
It might be our job or aspects of it that spins an invisible web to catch us. It might be a relationship, or aspects of it. It might be habits, contacts, colleagues or our own mistaken need to repeat old patterns. Whatever is holding us, weakening us so that we ever so gradually dull our own wits and lose purchase on our freedom, we have to recognize it, and therein lies the rub, for we will blame anything and anyone as our wings grow weak and our fears take control.
As a result of becoming trapped in a webcage, I might take on and develop bad habits. I will probably grow fat or I will grow thin. I will become a bit manic (if it is possible to become a ‘bit’ manic) about a fitness routine, or my own private space or the way I like things done until I can no longer see anyone but myself in relation to the rest of humankind. What I will not see is that, if I just rest a little, I can probably work out an escape, because resting means dilemma to me. I cannot stop moving, because if I stop moving, I will have to think and the inside of my unhappy head is the last place I want to spend any time at all.
But this is exactly what I need to do.
Someone, possibly more than one someone, once said that in order to find a way out of the pain, we have to stay inside it, engage with it, to accept it, and to move on beyond it. It sounds ghastly at best, but from experience I know it to be true. The alternative is a lifetime of running, and not from one bad situation to another, although that is exactly what it will be, but from our own self.
What we all need to do to free our wings is to stop and say…….ok, Pain, talk to me.
If our job/partner/lifestyle is slowly killing us, we must find the courage to acknowledge it and take action. Yes, it is scary, but I have done it and felt terrified in a strange land, one I now know well with views and spaces and light and fun; not one of which I saw before I acknowledged the dark pain and fear, reminded myself that I have wings and a sting,and rose myself up and away into a new sky, trailing a strand of web.