i used to wig out every time i saw a spider. i don’t know why i had this aversion to the eight-legged creepies (or where it came from), but i did.
when i saw one, i would inevitably screech like a crazy person and then beg whomever was in a three-foot radius of me to “killit, killit, killit, killit!”
as i’ve gotten a bit older (only a bit, mind you), i have tried to quell this hooting-and-hollering nonsense. because, seriously, i am an adult woman who should not be afraid of something the size of my fingernail.
so, i took baby steps. and before long, instead of screeching, i would simply make a whimpering noise through clenched teeth. and now i have neutral feelings toward them, unless one jumps at me. that’s pretty good progress, i think.
i have made my peace with all sorts of insects and critters, actually. when one lands on me, i intentionally pause before just swatting it away. unless it’s a mosquito; then it’s on one fast-track train to it’s next life, i promise ya that. (some things are just too irritating to bear. i’ll work on it.)
by the way, i can totally read minds. and right now, you’re thinking i’m some lunatic who thinks insects have souls and feelings and junk. prove me wrong, and then you can laugh all you want; ’til then, i’m not taking my chances. (except with mosquitoes, the bastards.) plus, it’s not just the karma issue; i firmly believe that many of us do things without thinking. and i’m a big fan of thinking; i believe it should play a semi-gargantuan role in our daily lives.
so here i am, being all karmically motivated and arachnid-sensitive. yay!
yesterday, i was in the kitchen getting ready to start my dinner of Ramen when i looked down and – behold – there was a greenish-yellow spider crawling up the sink drain. i can only imagine how long it took him to travel through the water pipes. his spindly little legs straining, his teeny heart pounding. and, upon emerging from the tunnel of darkness, i’m quite certain he mouthed the word “freedom.” maybe there was also some blue face paint and a kilt.
and BEFORE I EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT IT, i turned on the cold water and – as the story goes – washed the spider out. i’m sure he’s halfway to the ocean by now, clinging to a soggy piece of food and cursing my name.
he never stood a chance with the likes of me.
i hope he will behave better than i did the next time we meet.