To Be a Spider

So I’m sitting on the steps of my back deck on one of those perfect Michigan nights where the air is fresh yet warm, and watching the sun shimmer through the trees and over the creek in the woods and contemplating how fairly little I have figured out about my life for a girl of almost 30 years.

I notice the glimmer of spider webs strug throughout the murtle next to the hammock and think “I wish I was a spider.”

A spider’s life seems straightforward- grow up, eat, die. If I were a spider I could just to scramble around all day stringing my sticky silver thread from plant to plant. Occasionally I would get to eat (drink?) the fruit of my labor- a juicy fly or a bright dragonfly if I’m lucky. Then of course there’s the added bonus of possessing the ability to scare full-grown adult humans (like myself) just by crawling in the room…

At some point I realized I was continuing with this daydream simply to avoid thinking about the big issues in my life.

So I went back in the house to blog about it and eat dinner- further avoiding thoughts and feelings about anything important.

 

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