In the last three months, I’ve had an unusual number of run-ins with spiders.
First there was the imaginary spider that showed up the first night in my new apartment in Texas. I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night to the image of a spider crawling across my boyfriend’s chest. I screamed and jumped out of bed across the room, hyperventilating and unable to speak. When I was finally able to tell my boyfriend what I had seen, we were unable to locate the suspect. We went back to sleep and the next morning I had to face the fact that I could have just been dreaming.
From there I encountered a black widow taking up residence in our potting soil on the back porch. I was so afraid of this one – the only truly dangerous and poisonous one of the lot – that I did nothing and just let it be. And then worried every day that it had somehow moved inside.
But the tarantulas may have been the most jarring.
I was leaving the bathroom, and out of the corner of my eye saw something out of place. There was a tarantula hanging out in the corner of the shower. I ran away…fast. When the property manager came to dispose of it, he found another one on the ceiling that I had totally (thankfully) missed. This was at a jungle resort, so I had the option to move to a new room, which I took advantage of, but still. No one else saw any tarantulas. Just me.
And now, just this past week, this thing.
Probably harmless, but huge and misshapen just the same. I don’t know what it is about them, but I am very afraid of spiders. The larger they are, the more scary. The more obtuse, fat, quick, strangely shaped. Blech.
Unfortunately, my boyfriend is afraid too. This makes for an added argument every time a spider comes wandering into our home. Because of his work schedule, I’ve often found myself in a predicament: dispose of spider immediately for peace of mind or leave it be and wait for him to come home and dispose, but in the meantime worry that the spider is following my every move. Paranoia wins out over fear for me, so we’ve designated a bug box and collection system to take care of all non-welcome critters and transport them back outside where they belong. We fear in peace.
At this point, small spiders don’t bother me anymore; it’s the big ones that keep showing up on my doorstep (figuratively speaking – literally, they’re in my kitchen, bathroom and bedroom).
Being the aware person that I am, after the umpteenth sighting I had to wonder if the spiders are trying to tell me something.
Ok spiders. You win. What do you want me to know?
According to the entry for spiders in The Book of Dream Symbols by Klaus Vollmar, the spider image is representative of an artist, but also the artist’s shadow side. In a woman’s dream it apparently represents conflict with your mother.
Duly noted.
Other online resources cited spider symbolism as representative of the feminine, creativity, and the web of life. A spider spins its web just as the human crafts his or her own life through daily actions.
The tarantula in particular is thought to be the keeper of the alphabet and represents the creativity and art of weaving words to create story.
That doesn’t sound so bad. I’m down with the creative feminist.
In Native American mythology, spiders represent power and invisibility, while the web represents “the four winds of change.”
In India, the spider represents Maya, the Sanskrit word meaning illusion. In other words, the spider asks us to look deeper into the Truth, as appearances are not always as they first seem.
To some, seeing spiders is a sign that it’s time to face your fears.
Darn it. I knew that was coming.
I have to say, I was a little in awe when I started researching the symbolism behind spiders. Here I am, making extremely transformational life decisions based on creation and expression, and the spiders just keep showing up. Eerie.
Because they elicit so much fear in me, I find it interesting that I can directly translate that fear to the own choices I have in front of me. Fear of making the wrong decision, of failing, of depending on others and asking for help.
My fear of spiders has actually been aiding me in sweeping my own creativity and power under the rug all these years. Snuffing it in preference for safety and security – a 9-5 job and the life everyone expects me to live. Instead of taking up the invitation to hone my craft every time a spider crawls into my life, I’ve been hastily hiding and dutifully disposing. Killing.
Today I say no. I no longer will fear my own skills. My own power. My own strengths. My own gifts. From this day forward, I vow to look at the presence of spiders in my life in a whole new way.
The next time I see a spider, I will remember my craft. Besides, they are protectors (as the best non-toxic insect repellant around). I may still remove them from my presence after internalizing the mini-intervention. At least I’ll understand what they’re trying communicate.
Unless it’s really just about the dirty house…
