The Wisdom of a Web

The wise words of William Blake echo a feeling that is familiar to us all: the captivating power of the seemingly small. In "Auguries of Innocence," he reminds us of the power of perspective. With the world and its vastness, often the most profoundly meaningful moments are those which are fleeting. As a child I remember walking home from the bus stop and the caressing scent of honeysuckle from the neighbor’s yard. Sticky summer days would find me underneath the oak trees, where I would sit for hours mesmerized by the dance of the sunlight through the leaves. Each day a new display as the nights grew longer.

One day, as I was staring up at the trees, I noticed a small spider spinning a web. It moved with purpose, carefully weaving each strand of silk into a delicate pattern. I was amazed by the spider's skill and focus, and captivated by how it arrested my attention. I wanted to capture this feeling. This presence of mind and surrender to the beauty.

I began to pay more attention to the “small” things. The way a flower unfurled its petals, the sound of raindrops tapping against the windowpane. I saw the world with new eyes, and the extraordinary in the ordinary. I know now that we call this “mindfulness”, but as a young child, my brain had no need for labels. I was simply content to exist in the present. With no need to reflect on the past or rush into the future, minutes stretched for hours, and the worries of the day disappeared. This was no small feat, given the food scarcity in our home and my parent’s divorce. Hundreds of miles away from my mother, most days found me crying alone or with my nose in a book, desperate for an escape from reality. These tiny moments of enlightenment were the first glimpse of what it felt like to be free from the shackles of my mind. I had the key, and it was my little secret.

As I grew older, though, the innocence of childhood seemed to fall away. The world became more complicated as my parents were thrown from the pedestal I had put them on. I had reconnected with my mother, only to find her new partner was a malignant narcissist (as if there is any other kind). He was controlling, abusive, and lured my mother into his trap as if she were his prey. I felt foolish. Betrayed by those I held closest. They took every penny I had and left me without a home. I found myself caught in a web of despair, far from the sweetly spun one of the spider beneath the oak tree.

With no choice but to pound the pavement, I worked three jobs to pay my way through school. It would have been easier to drop out, perhaps, but I would not give them the satisfaction. He especially, wanted to see me fail. If I did not choose the major he wanted for me, he didn’t want me to have anything at all. It was a zero sum game. But where he thought he was the winner, he was wrong. I would not accept defeat.

I lived off the kindness of strangers. Old couches, expired food. My life fit into a few garbage bags. It was a fitting metaphor for how I felt.

Overworked and underpaid, I had no time to marvel at the dancing sunlight through the trees. For a while, it was as if all the color had drained from the world. Everything was rendered in black and white with the occasional shades of grey. Depression: the familiar parasite that was hell-bent on sucking every single ounce of joy I possessed. I didn’t deserve to be happy. Clearly. It was determined to feed off its gracious host until it perished.

But a walk home one evening displayed a beautiful spectacle. I decided to take the long way, eager to stretch my legs after a double shift on my feet. To my surprise, I saw a spiderweb glistening in the moonlight. The familiar feeling of presence seeped into my soul, reminding me of the simple pleasures I had experienced as a young child.

As I stood there, watching the spider spinning its web, I realized that the small moments really do make a large impact on our lives. I had been so focused on surviving that I had forgotten the beauty of the world around me. But that small wonder reminded me that there is still magic in the world, waiting to be discovered. Slowly but surely, the fog lifted, and my shades of grey turned to embrace the spectrum of color on offer.

I began to pay attention to the small things again. The colors changing in the fall, the birds chirping in the morning, and the crickets chirping at night, grateful for the change in season. MLK once said, “Only when it is dark enough can you the see the stars”. Sometimes we need to meet our own shadows, or the web of a spider to see our own light.