A Spider Lesson

A spider caught my eye this morning.  He was gracefully dropping from the ceiling on a strand of his web in my garage.   Slowly letting himself down, inch by inch and then in one quick and smooth movement dropped himself all the way to the concrete floor.   I said out loud "I wish I knew how you did that."  I was amazed at his skill alone.   Then he sat for a moment, almost determining his next mission, his next desire.  

Photo Credit:  closeupclarendon.blogspot.com

In almost a flash, he started to move.  His initial landing was near an intersection of four concrete pieces.  There were grooves that, while don't seem like much to this size 8 1/2 shoe, to him were probably huge valleys of the unknown.   He was quick and nimble.   For such a small little guy, he seemed to have the speed of lightening.  

As I watched, he raced off on his course and instantly encountered the first "valley" and fell right in.  He was moving so fast, it appeared to startle him to be off his original course.   He stopped for a moment and then came right back up out of the valley and raced off again.  Wham, another valley.  Once again, he stopped at the bottom, reevaluating what had now happened for the second time to his targeted mission.   Nothing changed though, he sped right out of the vast crevice and headed right toward the third valley.  

In amusement, I thought..."Here we go again."  I was sure it would be the same thing I had watched before.  However this time, when his speedily little body got to the point where the pavement started to curve into the valley, he stopped himself before falling down it.   He had learned.  By his senses alone, that he was headed somewhere that he didn't want to be and somewhere that might take a bit more work than he wanted to get out of.  

He just stopped there on the slope, looked down (and around) with his eight simple eyes and started off again, this time in a different direction, away from the four corners of the concrete.   He ran some more and then paused for a moment and then he was gone.   I was no longer privy to his life adventures today.

While this story may seem small and unimportant to some, to him, it was his world.   His world of unexpected turns and obstacles.  His world of learning merely from how things feel.  There was no one to give him advice.  No one to show him a map before he landed on the ground.  No one to coach him along the way (although, I did try...I think he tuned me out...:).    He was just focused on what he wanted to do, on his search and his mission and he just simply adapted as he went.   Who knows the amount of data that went through his mind as he seemingly failed the first two times.   He didn't stop to lament.  There wasn't a tiny spider tear shed.   He just would pause, contemplate what had happened and then he would realign with his mission.  

I was amazed at his speed every time he started again as well.  He didn't slow down and he didn't change his direction completely.  He just adjusted to the feedback he was given and tried again.  
I am thankful for my little friend this morning.  I am appreciative of the quick, yet poignant lesson he taught me about perseverance.   And perseverance not from the usual spite or pain or "I am going to prove them all wrong" mentality.  Just sheer focus on what he wanted of this moment in his life and following what he felt until he accomplished it.