Spider

Early this morning a spider sat in my little car. Probably in the dark and likely in the cold. This little spider wove a fabulous web from the window to the wheel to the seat. He probably spent all night weaving. I can imagine how meditative that might be.

My own morning started with clanging of pots, brushing of teeth, gathering a backpacks, homework and spillt coffee. A frantic goodbye and a rush out the door. I didn’t even look inside when I opened that car door.

I ruined the spider web and then I drove.

I thought about it. I felt bad about it.

Human beings weave a much different web. One strand goes across, the breakfast lunch and dinner strand, then a strand goes down, the homework, work, and cleaning strand, then the circle around it which is the loving strand and the hating strand and the trying to keep it together strand.

It spirals around and around. My strand loves my children and laughs with my children it worries.

Woven inbetween are the things we have to do. The things we think about. My Dad tells me everyday how great his daughter was. He tells me great stories. He doesn’t know I’m his daughter.

I think just like that spider. I work all day weaving my web. It is so fragile and yet I work so hard on it.

But. Someone always opens the door.

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