You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘spiders’ tag.

“Let’s have a look,” said the serviceman from Arenz Pest Management as he knelt down, flipped on his flashlight, and poked through the dark stubble massed in the corner of my back porch. I looked over his shoulder, eager to have expert eyes analyze this disorder that had reappeared since last week’s vacuuming.Text Box: “I don’t see this very often,” he said squinting, adjusting his uniform cap. “You’ve got lots of spiders in your attic—having a bash. What you see on the floor are the remains of dead insects they spit out. See that opening in the joint, above the windows? That’s where they’re having the bash. In time, the spiders will die off, and so will your problem. Keep vacuuming in the meantime.” 

As I reflected upon this experience, a metaphor surfaced. The spiders are likened to covert spin-doctors, propagandist experts, and masters of media distortion; they take a truth, chew through it, and spit out what is foreign to their ideologies. What remains is deadly and creates havoc within the populace, asleep with their eyes wide open. In no way can societies live in harmony. The sickness even permeates those in leadership roles.

On the other hand, “the clean of heart,” simple, humble folks, often poor, are like trained servicemen and women who adhere to the whole truth in their psyches, name the half-truths in our maniacal culture spinning around us, and find solidarity with the like-minded.

There is a way out, but it requires consciousness and work. In the meantime, as counseled by the Arenz tech, “Keep vacuuming!”

isolated red vacuum cleaner.3d render.See also:

Outside my kitchen window the morning sun glints upon a spider web, its three-foot orb suspended from an overhanging lintel affixed to the porch railing. From the inch-wide circle in the center emanate silky strands, cross-hatched by others into irregular rectangles; within these are insects and bits of leaves. A quiet breeze whispers into the web causing it to shimmer like a hesitant lover. Its creator is long gone.

So it’s about the spider, spinning webs from the earliest of times. The Roman poet Ovid (43 B.C. to 17 A.D.) described its origins in the sixth book of his Metamorphoses. Arachne, thought by some to be a comely princess in Lydia, was highly gifted in the art of weaving. Even wood nymphs paused in their gambols to admire her deft hands working the loom set up beneath the trees. Eventually such attention inflated her pride and she challenged the Goddess Athena, the teacher of all art forms, to a contest.

The looms were prepared. Everyone watched, spellbound. Athena produced a panoramic view of the Olympian gods and goddesses on her loom, whereas Arachne’s depicted their foibles. Although her skill was undeniably superior to Athena’s, the latter transformed her into a spider and condemned her and her progeny to hang by threads and to weave for the rest of their lives.

So whenever puffed up with pride and anger, be wary of the webs we spin. We’ve no need to entrap others with our stuff. Instead, get help to dismantle them and learn deeper truth about our psyches.





Available on Amazon

%d bloggers like this: