Tiny spider

2007/

The Silken Thread I was out on the balcony yesterday afternoon just before sunset and against the backdrop of endless sky and clouds I chanced to see a fat little spider suspended from the eves by a single, invisible thread. It looked as though she was hanging there in space. I watched her for a while, as she climbed up and down on the silken thread to which she was anchored, and remembered that spider silk is one of the strongest and most resilient materials on earth…and was consoled. I remembered that, but did she herself know it, or did she simply cast herself off from the eves?

The wind was terribly strong—or would have seemed so to her-- as she was effortlessly carried far out into the vast emptiness of space by its terrible, inexplicable power, only to be gently released when the wind abated; to fall slowly back once more into the rather dubious shelter of a formidable expanse of vertical wood and stone. I was in awe of her, and I began to say a little prayer of gratitude for being witness to such a wonder. She would not have been the first spider in history to carry to humankind a message from the infinite either. Many others of her kind have vicariously provided that service. Many a spider has inspired reverie, if only for a moment. So also did I myself carry her with me in my heart for a while, and I pondered. How it is that we trust with equal innocence and aplomb in our convictions, and sally forth on them like the spider on her silken thread—and perhaps with far less justification?

 Even if we claim to believe in nothing…we will still venture forth into the world on the basis of that belief. And has it ever happened to you…that the wind comes and snaps in half the gossamer thread of your understanding of how the world works? Then what? The biblical prophet Isaiah says that Faith is like a lamb in the road. You can pick it up and comfort it. You can cradle it in your arms. You can feel it trembling. You can smell the pungent scent of its fleece. You can take it home with you—to where it is safe. Maybe your caring and compassion for that wooly little creature will give you courage when your convictions fail.

 Shakespeare said: Oh what tangled webs we weave, when at first we practice to believe.

 Maybe we could learn something from the humble spider. What have we not created through the power of our ideas? Is there anything—any product of our cultures, of our history, of our civilizations, and of which we are justly proud-- that did not begin with something as intangible as a single idea in somebody’s head? Something very fragile? But then…there is that which remains. The tangible. Faith, then. It comes out of your very substance. It is something you can touch. Like a lamb in the road. Right here. Right now. Right with you. What is that? Can you rely on it? Or is it only the ground that comes to meet you on your way down—after the wind arises to play with your understanding of how things should be.

 Of how they are.