Cosmic Footprints Wanna Write


July 31 2010
Today, while I was cleaning out my dishes-glasses cabinet, I found one glass in the back of the cabinet, looked inside, noticed it was dusty, put on my glasses to see if it needed to be washed.

There, in the bottom of the glass was a spider. He’d spun a web from the bottom of the glass to the side, where there’s a glass lip, so your ice cubes in the drink don’t touch your lips.

Anyway, here is a spider the size of a pencil eraser, and that includes his legs! What I thought was dust was his web he’d been spinning for how long. I took the glass with Mr. Spider motionless, inside the glass, outside to my porch, wanting to set him free. But first, I had to sit down and watch him and marvel at the fact that he’d climbed to the back of the 6th shelf of my cabinet and homesteaded inside this glass. How long, I wanted to ask him, did it take?

Did you enter from the back door of my apartment? If so, you had to climb 2 flights of stairs to enter at a moment when I was entering or leaving my apartment, to water plants on the porch maybe or take out the garbage.

Or perhaps you came thru a hole in a screen. There is a screen like that in my living room which has a hole-like flap so the cats can go in and out and take catnaps on the front porch. But if he came through that screen hole, he would have had to walk the people equivalent of a few city blocks to get to the kitchen and then trek up to the 6th shelf in the back.

So I’m out on the back porch with him now, saying
“It’s time for you to go outside and find someplace in nature to live.”
I’m turning the glass upside down and rapping it vigorously against the wooden deck.
Mr. Spider is holding on for dear life.
“No, I’ve really come to love this one-room apartment on the 6th floor,” he pleads.

What I was struck by is his determination. If you want to do/be/go/have something, all you need is his focus, his solid plodding, one spider step at a time. And so I wondered, why Mr. Spider, are you in my life at this moment? I saw him as part of my own personal hologram, as the cell is to the Universe.  And that made me think what do I want in life enough to be determined enough to get it.

And I silently thanked him. Because I knew what I had to do next.


This entry was posted on Saturday, July 31st, 2010 at 6:27 pm and is filed under Memories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.