spider-like resilience
Introducing my friend, Sal
An unlikely friend
There is a spider in my window. I’ve named it, Sal.
It’s been in my window for the last few months which is very odd since it’s been winter in Minnesota and the spider just appeared one day in January.
A few weeks back, we had stoked the fire in the house a bit too much. This happens on occasion in our home; one minute you’re cold and throw “just one more” log on the fire and the next you’re sweating bullets. Learning how to use our wood burning stove is a continued practice because it’s so dependent on the temperature outside, the starting temp inside, the type of wood and how close we pay attention to it. And for the record, by “we” I mainly mean my husband who is the fire expert in this house. I, on the other hand, would likely cause us to freeze to death if we’re ever solely dependent on our wood stove for heat and I was responsible for it.
Anywho… on the night in mention, the fire was too hot. We were roasting and uncomfortable, like a humid August day took over, so we cracked the window open to cool down. We fell asleep and I woke up around 5am and the window was still open and the temps dropped into the single digits overnight. I quickly closed the window and was overcome with sadness that Sal the spider was probably cold all night long / may have died.
Spiders have never been at the top of my “cool” list when it comes to critters. Don’t get me wrong, I have a weird fascination and appreciation of bugs. As a kid, I’d beg my mom to water the grass so I could collect worms and while my sister was at tennis practice, I ran around the adjacent football field catching grasshoppers. I raised butterflies for almost every science fair and made a giant crane fly out of household materials for another class project. And cruel or not, I’d put ants in the dust of various colors of chalk so we’d have a rainbow collection of ants scurrying about the driveway. (I was like 7 y’all, and it wasn’t a malicious action, I just really thought it’d be cool… because I was 7.)
Spiders though - naw, I don’t fuck with ‘em. Perhaps it was watching Arachnophobia at a very young age or simply because they get a bad rap and are a common fear for so many. I’m all for the benefits of them eating annoying bugs, like mosquitos. But when I’m on the riding mower and going through a narrow path, there is nothing worse than the overwhelming terror of riding directly through a sticky web.
I didn’t see Sal that day, or the day after, or even the day after that. Actually, a few weeks went by and I assumed we lost our spider friend forever.
And then last week… I woke up to the spider in the window again and I smiled. Sal has been chillin’ on the screen for the last few days and what I’ve found is that it’s trying to stay in the beams of sunlight.
Did you know that spiders essentially build up antifreeze in their tissue to survive winter?!?! I mean, I assumed they went underground, into my attic or garage, clearly the windowsills of the house or… they died. When the temps start to decline, they start to build up glycol compounds in their bloodstream which helps them stay cool and then they begin to hide for winter and are able to withstand the cold temps in their hiding spot.
I digress. Anywho - the other morning while I was brushing my teeth I started to wonder about the symbolism of spiders. This led me on a trail of many lists of spiritual meanings and symbolism of spiders. There are a lot of myths, folklore and stories throughout history and across the globe. Spiders are apparently very old and incredibly common! There seems to be a collective agreement that some of the spiders’ symbolism includes:
Patience
Creativity
Resilience
And so much more
Patience
With toothpaste dripping down my chin, I chuckled reading that spiders are known for being patient. I’m taking it as a clever reminder from the universe considering I selected that as my word of the year. Or, perhaps it’s really just an odd coincidence and our spider friend is truly just a squatter in the windowsill from this last fall.
Creativity
Writing for the last eight months has allowed me to discover more pieces of myself, tap into creativity I haven’t utilized since I was a youngster and even start to share pieces of my life and story that can have positive impacts on others. It gave me an opportunity to write something that I later shared at an open mic event that resulted in me writing another piece that was shared on our local community radio.
Resilience
You know, every time I ride my mower through a spiderweb, the situation very quickly becomes about “me”. I’m spitting and flailing to get the web off of my face and shaking out my top knot to ensure no spiders are crawling around in my hair. I have never considered the other side of that experience.
In my head, I imagine that spider had spent all week evaluating the distance between the two sides of the path and finally determined the perfect contact points for the corners of the web. It spun for days to build a big, beautiful, sticky bug trap. Once completed, the spider stepped off to the side to take a small breather in the shade of a leaf that holds up a corner of the web.
And then… some giant two-legged creature on wheels screaming, “b**** better have my money - y’all should know me well enough”, at the top of their lungs comes zipping along and directly into the center of the web. I envision the spider sighing in both relief that I’ve stopped screaming Rihanna’s lyrics at the top of my lungs and devastation because it has to rebuild that web again.
Last week, I shared the pain and anger of a really impactful experience in my life, but I left something out - the portion of the story where every shard of brokenness was picked up, held, explored and loved again through baby steps and resilience.
The sun still came up the day after I agreed to get divorced. The world was still spinning, the priority lists were still demanding and time continued to pass by. The emotions swirling within me hadn’t settled one bit, and I continued to tell myself that I’d work through how I felt and process everything… but like, later. I found every reason and excuse to avoid acknowledging that my feels were poppin’ off and kept myself as distracted and busy as possible.
Until my body finally took over and said, “We run this show now and we’re feeling the feels. Buckle up, ba-by!”
What image comes to mind when you hear the word “broken”?
Is it a plate broken into a few large pieces, but missing those tiny slivers of ceramic?
A car that no longer runs?
The door hinge that broke in your house last year that you haven’t gotten around to fixing yet?
A clay pot that was knocked over by the cat and split into two perfectly symmetrical pieces?
When my body took over and I burst into tears upon being casually asked, “How are you?” in the elevator, my employer told me I was taking the remainder of the week off - effective immediately. My ability to hold myself together or ‘fake it, til I make it’ had completely broke down that morning. I couldn’t look anyone in the eyes without mine welling up with tears and trying to figure out how to speak was a challenge I didn’t think I’d overcome.
So I went home and I spent that first day really thinking about where I landed; mentally, emotionally, and physically. I sobbed and laid in bed crying and letting waves of thoughts run through my mind and feelings wrack through my body.
I had stuffed all those emotions gurgling inside me down so far, I could no longer embrace the moments of sunset where I previously would have said, “How beautiful!” and stood watching in awe.
I had suffocated my heart just long enough that whatever came my way, I didn’t care what the consequences would be.
I didn’t look at the changing fall colors and think, “What a wonderful season to remind me that life is ever-changing.”
No, I ignored everything that made me feel human for the sake of ‘protecting myself’ through distractions. And there I sat in a bedroom in the house where…
I grew up1
I baked cookies with my mother
I snuck the cordless phone into my room past 9pm to call boys
My hopes and dreams of the future were planted
My mother got sick
I took care of my mother
My mother never returned
I took care of my father after my mother died
I learned that there wasn’t a ‘true partnership’ in this marriage after all
My hurt and pain called home
I remember thinking about how much I wanted to move, but wasn’t in a position to do so just yet. It was time to prepare and begin searching for roommates, go through the ‘stuff’ that filled these rooms, and face the memories and let the emotions wash over me. The remaining days I had off of work, I set out to get shit done. I cleaned each room, reorganized the furniture, took photos, dusted, posted an ad for a roommate on Craigslist and donated bags and bags of stuff I no longer needed.
The time had come to move on. I had spent my time crying in each room as I cleaned house; mainly physically, but mentally and emotionally too. Buried beneath the layers of distraction and avoidance was a deep concern that I couldn’t trust others, but more importantly, that I couldn’t trust myself. After all, I thought I had made the best decisions up until this point and I wasn’t quite ‘thriving’ like I expected I would be.
It’s a little scary to get so introspective on who you were, who you are and who you want to be. It’s picking up each shard of brokenness and evaluating how it fits into the puzzle piece today - right now, at this moment in time. Some pieces still work really well, like confidence in times of uncertainty. And other pieces are no longer serving their intended purpose and are actually causing more breakage. And in this process…
I tossed all the pieces of that broken plate into the trash in acknowledgement that they served their purpose in the past, but I didn’t need it anymore (Constant worry & assumption of negative intent)
I picked up that door and I put the hinges back on (Confidence)
I added oil to that car and I sought after a mechanic to make any necessary repairs (Trust)
I decided that I’d make a new clay pot and let go of the old one (Sense of self)
I was determined that I would be curious and compassionate with myself, to heal and grow, to live a happy life regardless of circumstance and then…
…the basement flooded.
The sewer line backed up because the tree roots had grown through the pipes causing a blockage. And when I ventured to the basement, I found there were several fluorescent bulbs that had burned out and needed to be replaced too.
The plumber took care of the tree root problem and I grabbed everything I needed to get to scrubbing and disinfecting. But first, I had to replace the fluorescent bulbs so I could see what I was scrubbing & disinfecting. Replacing lights in the dark is quite challenging, but again I was determined, this time to prove to myself that I could do this all on my own. In my effort to ensure that I was putting the bulb in the correct spot, I touched the socket and the metal end of the bulb.
“What is this strange feeling going down my arm?”, I thought while trying to tighten that bulb in place.
“Oh my gosh! I’m electrocuting myself!”, my thoughts screamed in realization as I immediately removed my hand.
I stepped down and all that determination I had was gone. I sobbed and felt the fear and frustration flow through my body in waves. So scared because the mind throws out intrusive thoughts of what a terrible ending it would have been to electrocute myself and likely have fallen and hit my head on the way down onto the sewer soaked carpet, where I’d bleed out and die, in the basement of my childhood home all by myself. (It’s farfetched and over the top, but ran through my mind nonetheless.) Slowly, as my sobs turned to light sniffles, I found a small flicker of determination within myself. I double checked that the light bulbs were safely & correctly installed and got to tearing out carpet, bleaching floors and getting that basement in working order again. Only a few short hours of my life, but a memory that will provide a lifetimes worth of reminders, to always get back up.
Just like that spider rebuilding its web every time something tears it down, life will have roadblocks, hurdles and obstacles galore. It will also have spurts where everything is going really well, like puzzle pieces of life fitting into place. Sal has reminded me how important it is to continue showing up for myself with unwavering resilience. At the end of getting over a hurdle, I find new layers of joy and gratitude and a deep sense of belief in self.
Now, I’m emotionally attached to Sal the Spider and invested in its survival. To the point I caught a fly and found a way to get it into the windowsill so Sal could eat. It’s ridiculous, I know, but Sal brings me so much joy after going down this curious thought about spider symbolism. Even if we are resilient AF, it’s always nice to have a helping hand along the way too. For crying out loud, Sal would have to choose safety in the windowsill (stay and starve) or food (leave and freeze), I clearly had no choice but to help!
Oooo Girl
A creative writing. A letter to myself.
Oooo girl - do you see yourself?
Pick up that dusty photo album from the shelf with some long lost memories and experiences. Blow the dust off the outside cover and open it up.
Look at yourself! Within these photo pages, do you see what I see?
Confidence.
That morning when you sat there at the waters’ edge and greeted the beginning era of acceptance.
That day when you had no idea where to start, what to do, what direction to go. And you just picked up your feet and started moving. And…you figured it out!
That moment when you stood your ground and said, “No.”
The plethora of times you put your integrity first
Despite every molecule in your body urging you to be petty and fight.
The meetings where you vulnerably shared that you didn’t have the answers and needed help. And accepted help when provided!
The afternoons your legs felt like jello and you weren’t sure how you made it into the building, let alone up the stairs and to your desk.
Those experiences when your body felt terrified and told you through panic attacks. And you heaved and sobbed and hyperventilated. And got back up again!
When you learned that allowing yourself to feel was equally as important as being able to ‘fake it, til you make it’.
When you took the shame thrown at you and crumpled it up into a ball like a piece of insignificant paper. Because you knew they’d never understand, but more importantly, you wouldn’t let anyone else define your worth.
When you told yourself it was time to get help because the pain was festering and turning into a poison slowly killing your heart.
When you had a resounding “yes”, every time a new experience or opportunity came to your doorstep. Even if you had no idea what you were getting yourself into sometimes.
When deep within your gut, a tiny but mighty voice said, “this isn’t right.” and you learned how to tap into that voice more regularly, allowing it to grow.
Look at yourself. You beautiful being.
Look at all the things you’ve been through. And every moment in time where you showed up for yourself. When the voice inside your mind says…
“It’s too difficult”
“This isn’t your area of expertise”
“No one is going to care”
“You’re too ______”
Remember then, this confidence that flows under your skin. An unending current of electricity ready to be increased to a higher voltage at any time.
Remember then, when you figured it out and, when you didn’t figure it out, but, you got back up again.
Oooo girl - do you see yourself?
Me too me too! Great piece ❤️
I feel like I need a spider to root for now!