An examination of my fear of spiders 2

Tales of Retirement

By Fiona McConachie-Anderson
High School Teacher
Retired February 2010

Forget about rats, snakes, bullies and the dark – for me it’s all about spiders. I am terrified of those tiny eight-legged creatures: I recoil in horror at the oh-so-real photos of them on Facebook and avoid even fictional ones, especially on the big screen.

Before I retired from teaching, people often asked me: “What’s next?” Looking forward into the glorious abyss of free time I purred, “nothing.” I craved nothing more than to be at our isolated island cottage, scrambling over rocks, jumping into my kayak, and picking wild blueberries. Well guess what? Engaging in those activities means frequent up-close encounters with arachnids. And so, despite my fear I’ve recently come, from necessity, to admire the creatures.  I realize that spiders are beautiful, hard working, life enhancing heroes brimming with purpose and passion. There are lessons for this retired teacher to learn, and I’m determined to keep my mind and heart open to them all.

Catnapping in retirement

My husband often observes that a cat’s life, especially the napping part, is desirable. He looked forward to catnapping in retirement and has largely fulfilled that dream. I concur with the visuals, but cannot agree on essentials. In my opinion, house cats waste a lot of time sucking up to humans for food, petting and play. Spiders, however, create their own homes and find their own food, thriving in some very inhospitable environments.  I aspire to this kind of resilience.  Mind you, I’d rather cuddle with our James and Lily than a spider – but perhaps if spiders looked like cats? …ooh, no…too large.  Imagine the size of those webs.

Sustaining webs

Webs – yep – good metaphor for my life, period. I have a whole raft of life connections, and work hard at creating and maintaining them, sometimes in uncomfortable circumstances. That has not changed in retirement. Now I have extra time dedicated to extending my webs. Those friendships nurture, inspire, enhance, support, feed, challenge and motivate me. Cue Owen Sound Little Theatre stage left and St. George’s Anglican Church stage right. Always a volunteer, retirement allows for significantly more focus on what sustains me instead of doing for others. I am finding out how to be selfish and I’m liking it. Instead of organizing and setting goals for students, family and friends, I am discovering how to do that for myself. It must be a tremendous boon for all my dear relations.

Mostly useful epiphanies

My life has been strung together by a series of mostly useful epiphanies. I’m living at the end of the rainbow, so never have to look for it; the present is the future; nothing is everything. If I eliminate fear and follow the spiders, I find intelligence and wisdom.

Intelligence: knowing, learning, seeing, hearing, feeling.  If you’ve ever observed a spider’s web shimmering in the dewy morning light, or in the sunshine that follows the rain, you notice that the wind moves it but cannot destroy the spider’s creation. You may have been tempted like me to pull on one of the threads to see what happens. Once pulled, the web contracts briefly, but does not diminish the resourceful spider’s ability to live. I wonder why my fear and dislike tempt me to hinder or eliminate spider webs when their beauty and purpose cannot be denied.

Sitting with the arachnids

Spiders are smart, strong and instinctive but hardly reflective or moral. From them I am learning to reconsider the energy I spend questing, reflecting, reacting and judging. That makes me content. It affords me much more time for deliberately doing “nothing.”

When I’m sitting on the composting toilet at the cottage swatting mosquitoes and watching the big black spider hanging on the window or the little ones swinging from the roof I still recoil in horror, but the can is a good place to feel motivated, right? Being in the presence of those hairy swingers makes for a more productive and less lengthy visit too.

Yet, if I take the time, I can watch and learn significant lessons from the arachnids. Rather than analyzing life, I’m trying to be there. Rather than being afraid of what is next, I am flinging myself forward into the fray with no particular goal in mind. However, I might have to revise my earlier opinion of catnapping. James and Lily and their confreres may just have the right idea after all. They awake rested and ready to go. That sounds like a good idea to me. Besides, cats eat spiders.