Does Fear Define Us?

I woke this morning in the midst of a dream. One of those dreams that feels real ~ that shakes you and puzzles you all at the same time.

Dream:
I was working for a young man who called me into his office to ask me if I could or would 'take care of' several employees. Remaining quiet, I listened as he proceeded to give me pointers on how to do it. Then he instructed me to escort one of them to an interview. When I left his office, two men were waiting for me. We took a golf cart to an open area with an elevator. The men asked me to accompany them down to the interview. I declined, claiming claustrophobia. Trying to shake a bad feeling about the trip, I went through a door in the huge glass walls in front of me. I found myself outside, on a hillside above a creek or river. I heard voices behind me and decided to slide down the muddy hill, in skirt and heels. As I started down the incline, I heard a loud 'POP' from the direction of the elevator ~ then another. I knew a bomb had been detonated. After reaching the water's edge, I started angling up a grassy slope almost immediately next to where I'd slid down. Assuming I'd been knocked over the edge by the bomb, several people helped me up when I arrived at the crest.

Upon waking, I checked my phone only to discover, through Facebook's Safety Check stating a friend who lives in Brussels was safe, that there had been a bombing in Brussels. More terrorist actions. More reason to fear. I only felt grief-stricken. Was this related to my dream? Was my dream related to this?

Then came the declaration of responsibility from the Islamic State ~~ and all the news items using the term terrorist attack over and over again ~~ and a candidate running for the US presidency proposing using waterboarding on any suspects.

I slowly began to understand my grief. What do we know about what happened? More now, certainly, than we did then. Yet our first reaction is fear.... "Oh, no! Not again!" And the media drives this by focusing on the terror aspect. We seem to want to frighten ourselves ~~ to take the adrenaline hit ~~ to lash out at the 'other,' no matter who that may be. What about the people who helped others through the trauma? What about the families of those who were injured or died? Why don't we first pray for them? Think of the possible bright spots? Why do we prefer the darkness and fear? Why do we focus on the injured and dead only in terms of victims? The language we use, the choice of reaction, the hope or hate we give breath to truly defines us. Which defined you?

Spider Tale

On Tuesday, I was bitten by what I assume was a spider ~ several times ~ as it walked across my shoulder. I'm not sure where it happened because I didn't notice the bites for awhile. How do I know, you may ask? Because my system has a way of reacting to the bites. The bitten area swells and gets warm. If I start on diphenhydramine (generic name for Benadryl), the symptoms go away. I didn't take it right away so it took a couple of days for things to settle down completely. Today, another one bit me on the palm of my hand... probably upset because I was unknowingly washing it down the drain as I washed my hands.

I believe it's safe to assume that Grandmother Spider is wanting me to listen to Her. So I decided to check into what Spider means to different cultures. My calling Her Grandmother Spider comes from one Native American tradition where She is a wise teacher. In India, She is associated with Maya, or Illusion, reminding us that things are not always as they seem. In Egypt, She is the goddess Neith in Her aspect as the weaver of destiny, and the recreation of the dawn and dusk of each day. She is associated with the Babylonian goddess Ishtar and the Greek goddess Athena. Probably the most famous spider story is the story of Arachne, whose pride drove her to challenge Athena and eventually to becoming the first spider. In some African traditions, the spider is Anansi ~ anglicized as Aunt Nancy or Sister Nancy ~ often a trickster whose tales are morals lessons. Spiders are clan totems in Australia and are depicted in rock and bark paintings. In the cosmology of the native people of the Gilbert Islands, Nareau, Lord Spider, created the universe; as does Areop-Enap, Old Spider, in the tales of the Nauru islanders of Micronesia. In an Islamic oral tradition, Mohammed hides in a cave and is protected from those chasing him by a spider sent by Allah to weave a web over the opening; Jewish tradition has a similar tale protecting David. In the Druidic tradition, Spider is the guardian of the ancient language and the alphabet. [An especially significant connection for me!!] Those are examples of the diverse cultures who honor the Spider.

Since my reaction to spiders has shifted recently (due to my body's reactions!), I found myself looking into the 'shadow side' of the meaning of Spider in my life. Particularly, the need to bring hidden things into the Light. For me, that even can refer to my creativity ~ which I often let rest somewhere other than in the Light. It's not quite that I 'hide' it as much as I allow it to go dormant. During those times, it sits in a darkened corner, ignored and fading. Perhaps it's time to keep it in the Light. My next step is to travel into the Dreamtime with Her and talk with Her.

How do you react to a Spider? What does Spider mean to you? Is there a creative challenge She brings to your life? or is there another story in it for you?