Spiders and Flies

“And so here we are”, said the spider to the fly.

“Yes indeedy”, said the fly to the spider.

“What to make of IT?” said the spider to the fly.

“You tell me. “ said the fly to the spider, “And by the way, I have never seen myself as a victim of circumstance but as an adventurer who must from time to time cross troubled waters.”

“I am hungry” said the spider to the fly,.

“Troubled waters. I know why a caged bird sings.” said the fly.

 And away she flew with a song in her heart.

When I was born, my mother said that I latched on like a tiger with a formidible will, a will that she recognized as it ran through the women of the family. And a WIT to match.

I ponder.

So often we are acknowledged and even praised for certain attributes, but  ancestral inheritance is mighty and breathes itself forward in disguise. 

My Scottish grandmother,  born in the late 1800’s with a club foot and a passion for horses,

challenged every boy that she met to race her in her horse cart and she always won, long red hair streaming out behind and laughter in the air. 

One hundred years later my mother had a massive stroke that paralyzed her right side and obliterated her speech entirely. She was told that she would never walk or talk again. I watched her eyes and they were saying ‘I DON’T THINK SO” and with agonizing might, she defied this prediction and regained both,  chuckling when people tried to tell her what was what.

When I was young and exploring Shakespeare, I designed a fancy poster that said “To thine own self be true”….and when it was finished I said to self, ‘WHICH SELF?”

May we each look at our own personal lineage with love and gratitude and respect because we are each who we are and so much more.

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