I didn't kill the spider.

There it was, crawling quickly across a mini mountain in the cat litter box as I did the necessary cleaning tasks. I stared it down. I gripped the poop scoop tightly, ready to squash this tiny agent of terror in this rather unexpected location.

My hand hovered. And I watched it crawl away from me unscathed.

I am terrified of spiders, and I can't possibly explain why. I'm big, they're (usually) small. Most of them mean no harm. But their legs gross me out and the sight of one can send a shiver down my spine.

Lately I've been trying to change my mind about spiders, as much as I desperately DO NOT want to. They seem to be showing up a lot, with such uncanny frequency that I've wondered if they're trying to tell me something. At a recent, wonderful, transformational sound healing training, I was greeted with more spiders in five days than I'd care to meet in a month, rappelling down toward me from the ceiling, waiting for me on a doorknob, hovering above me on overhangs outside, and building webs right above my seat in the training room. Was the universe trying to hit me over the head with a message? Only a few days later, my husband picked a spider off my shirt (the HORRORS) and killed one one the ceiling above my spot in bed. Out for a walk on another recent evening, I looked down at my feet just in time to avoid stepping on a daddy long legs crossing my path.

Yes, I believe in signs. I believe coincidences are not necessarily coincidence. I buy into the notion that the universe -- or God, the Source, the One -- reaches out to us to show us our unique path. And the less aware we are of those initial, quite whisperings, the louder they become. Multistage spider attacks just might be one of those loud signals. I did what any spiritual seeker would do in this situation and Googled it. OK fine, it was ChatGPT (I'm SORRY).

Not shockingly, as is true with so much of the natural world, the spider is laden with spiritual significance across cultures.

Arachne

In Ovid's Metamorphoses, Arachne was a gifted weaver who flaunted her talent in the face of the goddess Athena, patron of artists and crafts. Defying Athena never works out for anyone, and Arachne ends up plucked from the hands of death and transformed into an immortal spider, destined to weave her webs forever. Interpretation of this mythology is subject to some debate, as it delivers a karmic warning, reminds us that gifts come from beyond ourselves, and anoints the spider as the weaver of fate.

Bruce and the Spider

A Scottish folklore tale from the 1800s involves the self-anointed King Bruce fleeing to a cave after defeat in battle. In hiding and in fear for his life, he watches a spider struggle to build a web. Upon making any progress at all, the spider inevitably tumbles before beginning again. And again. Finally, the spider manages to build a solitary silken thread, which it then expands into an entire web. You might be able to guess where this one is going . . . the beleaguered Bruce, inspired by the perseverance of this tiny arachnid, goes on to defeat the English in a legendary battle.

Indigenous traditions

The spider appears as a female teacher and creator, giving humanity either the loom (in Navajo tradition) or the ability to weave (in Hopi tradition). The spider through this lens is said to be a messenger from the universe that connects to the spiritual art of weaving one's own unique path in life.

I could go on. Spiders have also been linked to Freudian mother symbolism, divine feminine energy, detachment from illusion, entanglement, and shadow work. They carry vast and varied meanings across cultures and chapters of human existence.

So. Where does that leave me? Lots to think about here, like what these spider sightings mean to me in particular, whether they are in fact divine messages, and how I handle being constantly confronted with my own arachnophobia. It's complicated. Messages from the beyond always are, at least in my limited experience paying attention. The biggest learning for me from this spider speculation is that I'm noticing. I'm attuned, maybe really for the first time in my life.

I get to figure out what it all means, but I'm taking the signals as confirmation that I'm on the right path as I weave my web as a yogi and a sound healing facilitator. I am constructing something worthy and aligned with my higher purpose. And I'll keep remembering these spider sightings to remind me to keep building. Even on days like today, when I'm discouraged by small setbacks and questioning whether I'm on the right path.

I'll keep trying my hardest to let the spiders live. If not cosmic signs, at least all these spiders are reminding me of the opportunity to practice ahimsa, or non-violence in yogic philosophy. I'm not even wondering how far OUT of the litter box that spider crawled and where it might be now in my house. Not at all.