|A NOISELESS, patient spider,|
|I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;|
|Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,|
|It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;|
|Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them.||5|
|And you, O my Soul, where you stand,|
|Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,|
|Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them;|
|Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold;|
|Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.|
Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
The first time I read Whitman I wasn't a big fan...but as with many things that I initially disliked, he has grown, grown, grown on me. (This happened with avocados recently and I am so happy that avocados taste delicious to me now. Hello to the world of delicious guacamole!)
I read this poem today and it felt right. I grew up in a family that had been members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for a long time. And in my home and at church, I was taught the scriptures and gospel of Jesus Christ. And at school and with friends and going out into the rest of the world, I was taught and shown a lot of other stuff. The longer I live, the more gossamer threads I fling out, trying to grasp what is right and wrong, what is truth, and what the hey-diddle-day I am supposed to be doing with my time and my life.
I find that I love the quest. Love the reaching. Love the longing for light. I believe that is what we are meant to feel. And in my own experience, everything keeps pointing back to these:
Who actually is less scared of spiders than I used to be. A little.