spiders on full moons
I awoke with wide eyes at 1 am on the Scorpio Full Moon. The spider in the corner of my room that had not moved a muscle all day had decided to fall from the ceiling, and it startled my sensitive Pisces ass. I was shocked that I woke up and immediately saw it fall.
I jumped up, looked all around where I thought it could have fallen, but alas, could not find it.
As I got back in my bed, wondering where it was, wondering if it would crawl on me if I decided to drift back to sleep, I gave a small chuckle about how Scorpio the situation was. Sudden fear, in the middle of the night, as a creepy crawly had taken over my bedroom.
Spiders have always been my Power Animal. (I know they’re an insect, but in any case, I have always been drawn to ‘creature symbolism’.) I have often seen spiders in my spaces at times of intense transition, riding on the sideview mirrors of my car to assure I make it to different states safely, or showing up in peculiar places to warn me of things to come. (Right before a certain store I managed closed down in a specific location, a black widow appeared to speak of it’s coming death.)
Anxiety has been building in my chest since I spoke the truth, wondering when or if the aftermath of it comes to attack me.
But I am the spider. I sneakily crawl to other places I deem safe, re-spin my webs of rainbows, with all different shapes and symbols and talents. I have done it far too often, with many things in my life. I am content in my web. I see many different worlds, remaining small and un-noticeable, hiding in the crevices, observing people and how they live their life.
That’s why I never kill a spider unless it comes too close to me. If it’s on the floor, I will trap it in a jar and take it outside. I mostly will not even mind if there are spiders that have spun webs and stay in those webs. They do not bother me.
And this one tonight, it reminded me of what it means to channel my fear, something I have been working on this past year. It is a gift — it is something you can use. It does my bidding. It morphs into whatever I want it to morph into.
Only if it comes onto my bed, I will kill it. It is only worth fear if it is an active threat to address in this moment.
I laid there quietly, waiting for it’s next move, for it to appear somewhere, thinking of my boundaries in place.
I saw the spider appear out of the corner of my eye, crawling horizontally across my wall. It came lower. And lower. Until it had reached my bed. I reached to the floor and grabbed my shoe, smushing it as hard as I could with force.
I am sorry.
And I really was. I always hate to kill any living thing, even if it’s a pest.
I always thank the spider for teaching me about my fear in so many instances in my life. This reminder on the Scorpio full moon is no different.
If he comes into my safe space, I will stand my ground and protect myself. He is only worth fear if he is an active threat to address in this moment.
He was not on my phone, or on my laptop, or on my bed, or anywhere for that matter.
So I could rest peacefully.