What Spider Taught Me

In our home, when we find a spider, we trap and release as reverently as possible. 

One of us will run for a glass and a thin but sturdy old card or mailer (suitable backing) and gently guide this little (ok sometimes BIG) being into the jar, letting them know we mean no harm and ushering them outside to the garden. 

There is often panic in our voices - because, and I will speak for myself here, I am easily startled by spiders, – I think there is an uncanniness to being in their presence for me.

But I find that as I speak to these creatures, and let them know what we are doing, I am less afraid and maybe they are too.

Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen on Unsplash

This isn’t how I was raised. In my childhood home there was squishing and there was vacuuming – a generally contemptuous posture.

Irreverence for them.

And while I do get how there are just boundaries we need to uphold within our homes - afterall, this is why I choose to move them out – the killing of them isn’t something that has ever felt okay in my body. 

In a way, this is a story about learned behavior overriding the voice of one’s body and the journey back to personal truth.

Many years ago, this all came to a powerful pinnacle for me.

When I met my partner, he lived on the ground level of a townhouse in Northern Virginia. There was a creek nearby and lots of really intriguing looking bugs roamed the earth - really though, they did. They often looked like they were straight out of a science fiction story. Inevitably they would end up indoors and then they would be eliminated by assassination. 

One night, a really large spider – like maybe quarter sized x 4, was discovered by me on the sliding door screen, inside. Oof – there is just a way that discovering the presence of a spider brings the complete body chills to me and the whole room gets filled with the knowing that they are RIGHT THERE, watching me and then I imagine that THEY are thinking the same dang thing… “that human SEES me”... it is like we both eye each other suspiciously, looking to determine what our next move should be. And meanwhile I feel like I am already getting wrapped in their sticky webs.

So of course some scared noise reluctantly eeps from me and my person comes in to see what’s happening. 

With this much adrenaline running through our bodies and obscuring clear thought, the most sane thing we can think to do is to use fire, because this specimen is so big. Hindsight of course reveals that this is not a great decision – but adrenaline, people – it is a serious mind bender.

It really wasn’t meant to be torture, it was just an irrational, chemically driven reaction that led us right to the only option our social conditioning knew – it was a threat and had to go, by death.

Neither of us felt good about it - but in those ignorant, and naive early days, we just felt relieved that we weren’t being eyed as the spider’s next meal anymore. 

Now also in those days, we used to sleep with candles lit. Never an issue — just a thing that we did.

But that would be the last night that we would ever do this. 

In the middle of the night, I remember waking up to a room filled with smoke. My pillow had been singed and burned by the candle flame that had melted down a long cascade of wax — delivering it dramatically to my pillow. 

We quickly opened windows and put out the candles. Thankfully the pillow wasn’t in large flames but it was burned all around where my head lay. Miraculously, not one hair on my head was burned. It was really a weird and confusing experience. Surreal and mysterious. I recall the smoke in the room being like a fog that rolled in. 

The next morning –  we decided not to burn candles while we slept, of course, and moved on with our day.

But then there was that evening.

That very next night, A 2nd spider, maybe slightly larger than the one we had burned the night previous, appeared on the screen. I swear to you that I knew, I just KNEW this was a test. 

That is when it all came together in me. 

My mind flashed to all of the drama from the night before and the middle of the night and I just KNEW that the spider had done this to teach us, from the unseen realm. There was something bigger at play here than met the eye. 

I mean this was a big time for me to learn so much from the unseen realm because I wasn’t quite so spiritually aware at that time, but clearly was beginning to wake up. 

So we assembled our courage and escorted that big spider out.  We bid it farewell, with apologies for the loss of its kin the night prior & acknowledged that this is what we should’ve done with the first one.

And there has never been an intentional termination of a spider since, in our microcosm. 

Photo by Robert Anasch on Unsplash

In fact – I think on that night that Spider became a dear ally to me.

Grandmother Spider has since partnered with me and my shamanic work countless times and in myriad ways. I have a deep reverence for the spirit of Spider now. I certainly do enjoy discovering them in nature and in my journey space way more than inside my home – but it is always a reminder of our connection and my respect for their lives and their work that comes when I have the honor of helping them to the garden.

And yes – this is how we have raised the next generation, to show kindness and speak compassionately to them. Creating partnership and community.

A short time after this pivotal experience, a dear friend taught me a native name for them, for spiders, and I have come to lovingly refer to them in such an intentional way, to honor them. It is special to speak the name of an ally or a perceived enemy. There is a way that speaking the name conjures up all of the basic goodness that one might be able to relate to within a being. Highlighting a pathway to connection. 

Dear One, I see you - you matter, your work is valued and appreciated. Thank you for choosing to work with me. Thank you for this opportunity to work together. 

Can you imagine what this world would be like if we could learn from all the things we are afraid of? Letting relationships transform and wisdom blossom? Or perhaps, rather – weave – in this case.

So to the weavers, I bow deeply. 

And please, find your place outside my indoor home to be suitable and filled with blessings.

Hi, I am Melissa — a Shamanic Coach, Healing Practitioner & Alchemist. But at the heart of it all, I am Mystic & Mage.

More about my work can be found at spiritmedicine-lifecoaching.com

Hope you enjoy the short shares, podcast style here. They sort of dance around life, experiences throughout my time here on this planet, and the work I do.