Just Stories

The Journey and My Spider

Last night, I dreamt of spiders . . .
They were... in the hundreds to thousands built into a little crevice that suddenly grew huge when I fell in... Okay, I jumped in, geez. And that would seem pretty scary; I was aware of that possibility.

But I was part of the pack. The hundreds of tiny spider children all welcomed me to follow through a tiny hole, but I was not interested in that. I crawled out of the crevice.

I met some people back up there who were having a showcase of their languages— all Asian. Turns out they may have been spider experts as well, for I saw a spider that appeared suddenly on a table in front of me, garnering a few outstanding colors encased in a transparent cocoon.

"Ohhh that must be a Queen Spider!" One of them pointed out enthusiastically.

Poking it curiously, it was strange to see the spider in a cacoon...

Dream End

I woke up, thoughts racing and forming their connections with each other so I can remember.
Then I realize... it is raining.

Today is the day.

It's finally raining and I can take my spider out to cleanse and be free. I grab the jar by the window, walk down the hallway, and go outside.

Finally...

I envision how I would do this. Fill it with water back in the house? No. Let the rain fill it? Yes.

Stepping out into the rain, I turn the top off and eventually find the spot where runoff water drips in a stable place. The water taps at the bottom of the container.

Looking away, I take a breath and go inside.

I make my coffee fairly quickly, placing it on my nightstand only to ponder... and ponder...
Taking my stick leaning against the doorframe, I switch out my slippers with my sandals and return outside.

'Let's go on a little adventure.'

I know I'm going to get wet.
Step after step, I walk with my stick to the end of the stone pathway.

We're going out on an adventure. If my spider is going through this, I shall too.

And so I take that step off the stone... onto the dirt and grass, a different path other than home.

Across we go. I can feel the water soaking through my clothes. It feels good; it feels right. Oops, better roll up my pants... there we go. Under a canopy of tree branches we go. Should I go get the mail? No, not yet. Turn left.

I turn left and a flower branch, white as death, grows on the side... a few feet away.

Readying my stick on my shoulder, I get closer to it... It's beautiful. The inside, the center of the petals of each flower is unexpected, not soft nor hard looking... Is the stem broken? (Will it die soon?)

Presenting my stick forward, I lift the weight of the flower only to realize . . .

I set it gently down...

It looks like death just happens to grow that way.

Then I look up . . .

And I realize . . . Death

No matter how big or small, is everywhere.

Standing away from the many tall, thin beacons of white, I continue on the path I've chosen.

Now I can feel the grit between my toes.

Sauntering down and down this wondrous path, I see tiny flowers here and there; yellow... and purple. There are two purple thistles separate from each other.

Faced with a curve . . . I could go off my path... and take this journey off-road into the taller grass... but I'd rather not. I don't need any tick bites.

Up the hill, Death, you are natural. It's okay to be or not be scared. You are there and you will always be there...
Somehow... that makes me relieved to get to know you better.

On top . . . We're back.

I look at the two white cars under the trees.

You are a driving force Death. You make people scared and you make people lose their sanity over the things that they could lose or have lost... But that's okay. I can find comfort in knowing that you will always be you and that you are natural.

Under the canopy we go. Turn left? Turn right?
I'll turn right this time.

Smooth my hair; fix my shirt for the public. I see a car pass by on the road.
They must think I'm weird for being in the rain, but that's okay too.

Hey look, some more white flowers by the mail box...

On the edge of the road, I carefully look right and left . . . All clear.

Hey Death, people say that one day, we will all die, and in part I agree, but... some people go so far as to say it's pointless, that *since* we're all going to die, we should stop living...... yet here we are...

We can preserve the ones we love, can't we? So that they don't die too soon?

We can... feed our dogs and our cats.

We can... take care of ourselves, our friends, or family if we have em...

Or we can nurture a career that we have . . .

We can take care of them. That makes life worth living... Instead of... running away or sticking to a stubborn fight, we can cherish what we have and grow into something beautiful.

Death, you may be scary, but you're worth having every step of the way.

I cross the street, open the mailbox, and hide the paper under my shirt. Look both ways... saunter on back to the dirt path.

Tap goes the stick on my shoulder. No matter what, the stick is going to get wet.

Under... the canopy we go......

I'm back from my journey... With a new me in tow, the view of home is looked upon by new eyes.

Stone path rewinding to the stairs up to my door and spider . . . Hey Lucas, how are you doing...?
Yeah, my jar is only a quarter full too.

Back into my house... we go......

...
Everything that happened . . . Everything I saw during my eternal journey over the span of a few minutes... It almost seems otherworldly. The paper still got a little wet......
I can't wait to have another adventure.