There’s something odd that happens when you view each day through a filter of how to take good care of your head, heart, body & soul.
Aside from slight pangs induced by not shopping for new summer garb, not going gaga over strapless sandals, and looking the other way when temptation strikes (I’m talking to you chocolate ice cream!), there’s this other thing that keeps popping up, tapping me on the shoulder, staring me in the face.
My own brand of strangeness.
My uniquely odd patterns.
Maybe I have more time on my hands now that I’m not trolling retail shops.
Maybe I am now more conscious of what goes on around me and inside of me.
Or maybe, just maybe, there are other things at play, just yanking my chain for the fun of it.
I swear they follow me to the bathroom.
And today, a really huge gargantuan one was sitting on the outdoor shower just waiting for me to open the door.
It was so fat and furry I actually thought it was a big bumble bee at first. You know one of those bulbous ones, so hefty it seems impossible to fly.
Well, this one didn’t fly.
At least not on its own volition.
Because it wasn’t a bee, it was a SPIDER. Just the kind I don’t like: too close to my personal space and in my naked presence no less!
The old Jamie, like six months ago, before The Promise 365 started would have picked up her shoe, screamed bloody murder and struck without regard for life or limb.
The new Jamie, however, was quite calm, poised, as if in slow motion picked up her flip flop, stood an arms length away, turned her head and batted that furry creature into the air.
Okay, so only a slight difference here.
I know that poor furry spider could have quite possibly not survived the harsh flight and may have experienced both turbulence and a less than safe crash landing.
But, I have to admit I am quite proud of myself.
1) for not screaming
2) for not smashing to bits the unassuming spider hard at work on his nest
The only thing I regret?
Not taking a photo before it took flight.
When Justin returned home I tried to explain the gargantuan arachnid that launched a sneak attack on me from its nest inside the outdoor shower, and furthermore, I heroically saved its life by sending it airborne into the lawn instead of smashing it into oblivion.
Justin raised one eyebrow with a sympathetic smile and repeated my words back to me.
“Nest? You know that spiders make webs, not nests, right?”
Then he very sweetly pointed out that I may not be the world’s most trusted source when it comes to describing the size and shape of spiders, given my storied history of exaggerating the exactness of little creatures and their all out campaigns to terrorize me.
Okay. So, he’s right.
I have cried Wolf Spider one too many times in my life.
But, today, I promise, PROMISE YOU, that spider was enormous.
And, I didn’t kill it.
I let that spider live, or at least fly, for one more day.
Which is another small step for Jamie, albeit one giant leap for spider-kind.