The Spider and the Ant: Lessons in Observation

A Sister's candid reflection on power and perception through everyday encounters - from a standoff with a raven to a misread struggle between insects. The letter explores mindfulness practices and the search for untainted knowledge in a world of corrupted information, while painting a vivid picture of life in a town divided by Bridge Street.

Dear Sister, Letters Of Misunderstood Magic Volume 1: Pages 141-143.

Spring - June 4

Dear Mary,

On my way through Cat Town today I had a brief standoff with a raven. He was intent on eating something at the side of the road. I wanted to see exactly what he was eating. I took a step toward him. He stepped back. I walked two steps away. He stepped back toward his food, as I turned he froze. We stared at each other. Odd, how it feels when an animal other than a Temporal recognizes you.

After winding my way through town I walked along the river. The sun warmed me, and the cool breeze was invigorating. I saw an Osprey hover in the sky, then plunge into the water. He retrieved a fish and flew erratically until he got the fish under control. I was happy for him, in that moment, all was well.

I’m trying to leave iterations of me to the past, so I have begun a new practice. With each step I say, “now” and plant myself in the moment, feeling the solid nature of the Earth. According to some philosophers, the now is about 2 seconds. My now is gone, but now is a new now. Poof, gone. It is a difficult practice and quite possibly I’ll never get good at it. Still, a worthy effort.

Eventually, my now practice became too much so I sat on a bench and looked down to see a spider carrying a winged ant. I thought I’d squish the ant to help the spider carry it better. The spider seemed to struggle with the ant and I wanted to help the spider. The spider stopped and the ant continued to walk. It was in that moment I realized the spider was dead and the ant was pulling the spider.

What if I’d killed the innocent ant? Both would be dead. I’m glad I did not wield my power over life and death for the ant. In the moment I was the bringer of death. Maybe I’m secretly a Valkyrie.

There is a cat among many I’d like to tell you about. He lives on the other side of Bridge Street which is the dividing line. We live on the less desirable side, and still quaint and lovely. The other side of town we call Uptown, as the homes are old, large and more elaborate. Obviously more expensive, so obviously a better quality of life. Ugh. Those Uptown cats are a well fed lot and look like they’ve never had to hunt. On our side of town cats are scrappy and rough around the edges, wary of people and do not respond to “kitty, kitty”.

There is a cat who lives in Uptown we call Lion. He has long orange fur that fans out along his neck and body, walks with confidence and speaks to us.

One day we were sitting on the sidewalk petting him and praising his loveliness, paying court as one does to magnificent cats, when a woman opened the front door. We exchanged our greetings and let her know we make it a point to visit Lion. She replied, kindly, that his name is Pumpkin and his gray counter part is named Hera. Hera looks like Lion but is gray and elusive. She does not allow peasants to touch her.

The name Pumpkin is less than regal. How can she not see his nobility?

I’ve been walking a lot lately. Thinking on my own. As you know, all forms of real information on the net have died. Now, I wonder where to get information because I’ve come to realize it is all corrupted. This has led me to the idea of connecting to the great consciousness. I say that, however, I don’t mean one mind. Maybe there are many areas of this consciousness, a more pure, incorruptible place, void of Temporal interference, the same place where I got the idea of soap dough and the books.

I ask for guidance and look for signs. No obvious signs have arrived, not like a letter in the mail for Pete’s sake. Each day, I look for a sign, any sign, something. I’d ask the Tarot, however, I don’t even know what to ask for. Probably why I’m not seeing much, sensing much… I look to the demon world for signs of their decay, and it leaves me feeling filthy. No longer. I don’t care any longer. I won’t care. What does it matter what demons do?  I’ll leave that to Ione. She can study the putrid world all she wants and filter it to us.

So I will shift my attention to other endeavors.

Let me know what you experience is in your realm. I’m desperate for a sign.

 

Love, Bee