The Very Fabric of Her Being

by JoAnne Dodgson

As the sunset painted the clouds purple and red, a spider crawled out from the shadows and began to weave a web. I stepped toward her to get a closer look, cautiously keeping my distance. The spider’s close proximity evoked old habitual fears, those lingering effects of the rampant propaganda about the dangerous nature of all things creepy-crawly.

The spider looked otherworldly with her sleek round brown body held up by eight highly arched striped legs. She was a skilled acrobat, moving about with great agility. Intrigued, I spent much of the evening watching her.

The spider initiated her weaving by free-falling from the porch rafters suspended upside down and swinging side-to-side, gliding along a shimmering thread. She came to land on the very tip of a blade of grass far below the wooden beams. There she attached a grounding cord, anchoring her web to the earth.

She crawled back up the thread, expanding the intricate framework as she stretched fibers out in all directions like the rays of the sun. Returning to the center, she circled around, steadily moving further outward, making a spiral.

This artful weaver wove her web with fibers generated inside her. She weaved with the very fabric of her being, knitting threads together, forming patterns, building structures, joining diverse angles, shapes and lines into an integrated whole. Guided by ancient blueprints she carried within, the spider’s focus was unwavering as she weaved.

Guided by ancient blueprints she carried within, the spider’s focus was unwavering…

When her elaborate design was complete, hours had passed and darkness enveloped the sky. Spider settled in the center of her grand tapestry. The glistening threads were sticky, the web’s geometry magnetic, all designed to attract and to hold what was nourishing for her. Very still, she sat watching over, keenly aware of anything that touched the sacred space of her web.

Later that night, I couldn’t get to sleep. After tossing and turning awhile, I finally got out of bed and made my way through the dark house, irresistibly drawn back outside by some mysterious calling. Wrapped up in a blanket, I laid down in the hammock, gently swaying as I watched the spider ride the waves of the breezes fluttering through her web.

Silhouetted against the background of the dark starry sky, the spider felt mystical, so alive even in her stillness, so purposeful with every movement she made. I both feared and admired her instinctual wildness, all of which compelled me to stay with her through the night.

Early the next morning, as the sun began to rise, I was abruptly awakened out of my sleep. There at eye-level, right in front of my face, was the long-legged spider looking back at me as she floated in the air on an invisible thread.

My startled surprise soon faded into delight. How had this small silent creature so boldly called me out from my sleep?

What was it she wanted me to see?

The spider dangled in front of me just long enough to be sure I’d left behind the dreamtime and was truly attentive to what was just about to happen right before my eyes. The spider crawled fluidly back up the thread and suddenly somersaulted, cartwheeling into her web.

Glistening fibers broke apart. Delicate threads came undone. The elaborate spiral design imploded as the bottom half of the web collapsed in on itself.

I watched with wide-eyed amazement as the spider dismantled the rest of her web, unraveling her weaving with her spindly striped legs, deliberately taking apart the intricate tapestry she’d created just hours before. Then she crawled away into the rafters, retreating into the shadowy crevices between the wooden beams and peeling bark.

Throughout the day, the spider kept creeping into my mind. I marveled at the mystery and magic of her ways. The long-legged spider didn’t only weave webs. She also took them apart.

She lived with unshakable clarity that she had what she needed to manifest what she wanted when the guidance from within and the rhythms of the earth indicated it was time.

That evening I returned to the place I’d last seen the spider, waiting and watching for my friend. As the land quieted into sunset, the spider reappeared. She sailed gracefully toward the earth on a shimmering thread, beginning once again to weave her extraordinary web.


Journal, Volume 2 Issue 3