Spiderwebs

and paying attention to little things

Good morning, my friends. I hope this little letter finds you well. I’d like to relate an experience that I had this morning that may interest you.

I was out in the yard with our new puppy, Jasper. Allison is currently co-leading a women’s retreat in Martindale, Texas, so for a few days Jasper and I have the space to ourselves.

He and I like to play fetch, tug-of-war, chase, and all the other fun games that keep a puppy growing and entertained. Naturally, the mornings can be very active since he’s slept all night and has a lot of energy to burn. We played for a bit before I realized that the yard was densely packed with the tiniest spiderwebs, just an inch or two in diameter, strung very close to the ground. It rained yesterday, so the spiderwebs were lightly glistening with dew. Most striking was the fact that there was not a single spider in sight!

I immediately slowed my footsteps and started walking with great care so I could move between the spiderwebs without breaking one, treating my steps as an active meditation, catching all the little details with the net of my mind. Amazingly, Jasper (only 12 weeks old) followed my lead. He started taking the tiniest dainty little steps and seemed to be paying attention to all the little details too. We continued for maybe five minutes, at which point he went wild and ran around like a maniac. But the moment was complete!

I feel like we both received a deep lesson from the spiders. I can’t speak for his experience so mine will have to suffice.

There is a legend that the spider was the first of the animals to show humans how to use written language. Angles in spiderwebs formed the first letters, encouraging people to record their experiences and recognize patterns. The moment I saw the webs, I knew I needed to write about them, hence this post.

The webs were built last night, probably by thousands of spiders, but no spiders were there. They came en masse to do their work, did it precisely, and left without worrying about what might happen to their webs. This taught me that our creations don’t have to last forever to be beautiful. This post may be read today and completely forgotten tomorrow, but it has fulfilled its purpose - namely, to catch a few flies of curiosity, to re-tune us to the song of nature, to serve as a reminder that the little things can be the biggest things.

I hope that you can find some time today to reconnect with the world around you, where the plants and the animals are going about their daily lives, taking small, thoughtful steps that, when linked together, appear as a great pilgrimage. Maybe you can take a slow walk outside and write a little something about what you see, creating without expectation of the outcome.

If you’d like to share what you wrote, feel free to send it my way. Spider said it was ok!

May love radiate from your center like the strands of a great spiderweb.

Until next time,

Jason