Sitting here watching a spider as it’s being blown by the wind while continually building its web.
It falls againt my window, gets blown about and dangles but time and again it carries on its repairs.
It’s a thing they do and not just the spiders but all those creatures out there. They just do stuff oblivious to life and its reasons.
They feel, but not in the same sense we feel as humans with our compassion and hatred, our anxieties, empathy and those maddening questions of life and the reality of it all, the reasons of being, of time and of religion and all those things we have no control over.
The spider is there still doing its thing and I’ve forgotten how to be something other than a failure.
If I just carry on regardless while being buffeted, and with those turbulent feelings in my gut of fear, love and something other that i can’t explain then maybe time will come to my rescue.
Perhaps the universe, in her wisdom, has a message for me in the spider, and as I write these last words the sun breaks through and I realise sometimes there is nothing we can do to change or to help so we have carry on while trying to bring our own light upon the world.