Along Came A Spider...

Along came a spider…and it built a huge web right in front of my door. And when I say huge, I don’t mean it the way a fisherman would when describing his catch. When I say huge, I mean a king-size spread of sticky goodness which could trap a grown man and make him scream for his mommy.

Interestingly enough, I didn’t even notice the web at first, when I went out to place a new umbrella over my patio table. It was my son – a big boy of almost sixteen who secretly dreams of being a Ninja and claims to be afraid of nothing – that jumped a foot off the floor when he went to close the door and saw the spider proudly guarding its work of art an inch away from his face.

At first instinct I thought of removing the uninvited guest and ask him to find a room elsewhere, possibly really far away; but then, given that Morgan asked to have a Halloween birthday party, I decided to leave it alone and treat it as a nearly perfect Halloween decoration. After all, who am I to spit on a free, suggestive bit of decoration?

Jokes aside, my decision to keep the spider and even go as far as finding it a name (don’t laugh, the name is Charlie – suggested by my son in honor of Charlotte from Charlotte’s web), is actually a personal confirmation. Several years ago I was terrified of spiders, and while over time I came to accept that for some strange, arcane reason, they too had to have a purpose in the greater scheme of all things, I never forgave whoever is in charge of deciding the shape and look of living things for making spiders look so creepy and hideous. At some point of my life I have believed that if I was chased by a murdering maniac with a knife, and my only escape path was through a thick patch of woods in late summer, then I would have gladly stopped and asked to be stabbed. That’s how terribly afraid of spiders I was! Well, things have changed. I still think spiders are hideous, but while I wouldn’t pet them, I can now peacefully cohabitate with them.

So, our pet/owner relationship began (monster/crazy woman sounds closer to reality, but cut me a little slack here, will you?), and while I waited for Morgan to get home from school I brew a pot of coffee and sat at the kitchen table with the newspaper. Once in a while I raised my eyes to look at Charlie, completely immobile in the center of his web, and I couldn’t help but marveling at the perfection and beauty of what he had created. And not only that…I quickly realized that Charlie surely had one of me: Patience. The poor soul clung in the middle of that web for hours, before an unsuspecting insect finally gave itself up as a mid-afternoon snack.

The spider waited. And then it waited some more. All along, it had no certainty that anything would fly near and would be attracted to the flowery illusion of its web, but in the end, its effort and patience were rewarded. A juicy insect was drawn to the web like a sailor charmed by the melodious voice of a siren, and before it even knew what happened, its time had come. The spider waited some more, to give the insect the chance to tire out, before wrapping it into a silky grave.

By the time I looked away from the mesmerizing scene, it was too late to read any articles – Morgan’s bus was due to arrive in just a few minutes. So, I left to go welcome my daughter home, all the while thinking about the spider and its unbelievable patience. Good things come to those who wait, someone claimed. I’m sure Charlie would agree.

A Dollar a Day (repost)

“This is the beginning of a New Day. I am given this day to use as I will. I can waste it or grow in its light and be of service to others. But what I do with this day is important because I have exchanged a day of my life for it. When tomorrow comes, today will be gone forever. I hope I will not regret the price I paid for it.” ~ Author unknown

Let’s imagine that at the beginning of our lives someone gave us a limited amount of money – a dollar bill for each day we are alive - and told us that we can use the sum we are given to buy joy, pain, anger or peace. Our purchase cannot be returned, and whatever we buy with it we have to keep. We know that if our money is invested properly it might earn us a few extra bucks, while if it is spent unwisely, our account will dry up prematurely due to the penalties we have to pay. With that type of awareness, how would you spend your daily dollar?

Research has repeatedly shown that people who live a simple and peaceful life have longer life spans, especially if they sweeten the deal with faith and service to others. Each time we smile to a stranger, indulge in an act of random kindness, or accept the rocks that life throws as an opportunity to learn how to catch and stay in shape, we have used our daily dollar wisely.

If, on the contrary, we invest our energy in a fight against life, and allow anger, greed and fear to absorb our time and minds, we have merely taken our daily dollar and left it outside to be swept away by the wind. No matter how upset we get once we realize our mistake, the dollar is gone. So, should we put the rest of our money down on the same table, and leave it to be swept away as well while we run around madly searching for the first bill? By doing so, all our money will soon be gone and no amount of regret or foot-stomping will bring it back.

The first dollars were taken away by a combination of an unmerciful wind and personal naiveté, but choosing to put the rest of our livelihood out to be dispersed by the same currents is self-destructive and irresponsible at best. Rather than wasting more dollars trying to rectify mistakes of the past, it would be best if we focused on not making the same mistakes again in the future.

Go out today, and use your daily dollar wisely. By the time the setting sun pulls a curtain on this day, you should feel that what you bought is worth the price you paid for it.

Money doesn’t grow on trees…life doesn’t either.

A Door Never Considered

“The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.” ~ Flora Whittemore

My daughter is not a morning person. Each day, getting her out of bed classifies as a struggle in itself, but getting her ready to get out the door on time to get to school is nothing short than a Herculean task.

Getting dressed is the big challenge – since the time she turned one – and could barely walk – Morgan decided glamour was the name of her game. Before making her appearance, the diva has to select her costume, which involves laying out five different outfits on her bed and making sure they are all color-coordinated and matching her mood of the day; accessories are the next step and their selection takes just as long as choosing the clothes. An hour after getting up, she finally comes downstairs (no rush there either) and takes fifteen minutes to brush her hair.

Daily routine: Morgan gets up around eight and we rush out of the house at 9:15, often eating breakfast in the car because we are running out of time. Rare is the morning when I don’t ponder on the fact that patience must be the lesson I came to learn in this lifetime.

Yesterday morning she surprised me by getting up on her own and sporting a great mood. She tiptoed downstairs and pick-a-booed me in the kitchen, her little cherub eyes sparkling with an unknown glee for that time of day. My first thought was that she was either coming down with a strange virus, or this happy-so-early-in-the-morning attitude was the result of a strange planetary alignment I wasn’t aware of. Regardless, I wasn’t going to look into a gifted horse’s mouth; I smiled brightly and swept her up in my arms. Then, reluctant to let go of the moment, and aware of Morgan’s competitive nature, a sudden thought pierced the fiber of my thoughts and sparked an idea. “Let’s see who can dress first. I bet that I can get dressed faster than you can.” Magic words – Morgan ran up the stairs ahead of me and flew to her bedroom to get dressed. In two minutes she was out of the room with clothes on! I wasn’t about to waste a perfect chance to succeed, so I milked the situation for all it was worth. “I bet I can brush my teeth before you!” I said running to the bathroom. She ran to her own bathroom and brushed her teeth. We repeated the same routine for other tasks and, as if by miracle, we were washed, clothed, fed and ready to go at 9:05.

In the car I couldn’t help wondering why I never thought of appealing to this side of her personality before. We got to school before they even opened the doors, nobody got angry or stressed, and Morgan gave me a huge hug before getting out of the car. Was this the secret I had been searching for? Suddenly, the words “I bet I can do this faster than you” sounded awfully similar to “Open Sesame.”

On the way back home I thought of how many times we continue knocking on doors that refuse to open, and we become frustrated when we get little or no response; we waste our energies and become annoyed, and never once do we think that knocking harder will not make much of a difference; sometimes, we just have to try a different door.

Certainly, this could be just a momentary lapse of drama for her, but looking at it from a different point of perspective, it’s also possible that stifling the original conflict using a game was all that was needed.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed that things will continue the same way. Meanwhile, I will take what I can, and I will be thankful for blessing hidden around every corner. Sometimes a different approach is all we need to open new doors leading us to our preferred destination.