2.45 am, Friday, 21 October 2011. I turn on the bedside light, not for any reason I can think of – other than to witness the extraordinary transformation taking place beside my bed.
In the dim light, I see a Huntsman spider, which seems enormous and appearing to have too many legs. I can’t work out what’s going on, so I shine my torch light on it. At first, I think it has caught something, but then realise that I’m watching the spider shed its old shell. Apologising for the light, I am transfixed –completely in awe of this miracle of transition. I’ve seen many empty spider shells over the years, but thought they were the skeletons of dead spiders.
When the beautiful creature has completed this exhausting process, she is ghostlike in appearance, pale and beautiful. She slowly steps out of my torch light, and moves around to the back of the chest of drawers, in order to rest in the darkness, and recover. She is still there.
I am so ecstatic, I can’t sleep. I know it is a gift from Nature –awakening me in time to witness such an event. I, too, have had an exhausting transition, and have shed my old shell as well. I stand naked and pale in the Light, awaiting the next steps I need to take in order to fulfil my Divine Purpose...
10.30 am. I go outside to put away the emptied bin. Back in the kitchen, I feel something in my hair and brush it gently with my hand, thinking it’s a leaf (but maybe something else). A beautiful Praying Mantis lands on the kitchen floor. Apologising, I bend down and offer my hand. She puts up her front feet to take hold, and, in the halting manner of Praying Mantis, she slowly climbs aboard. She really studies me (and I her) –her little triangular face inquisitive. She reaches out again, so I hold her closer, allowing her to climb up my top, towards the tangle of my curls. She is still on top of my head, as I write. 1.50 pm.
As a child, I befriended a Praying Mantis who was living in a pot plant in our lounge room. She, too, would sit on my head, and went with me all around the house and yard. I’d walk around the back garden with her on my head, and she would fly off to investigate, then fly back and land on my head again. I really loved her. She laid eggs on the planter, but I don’t remember whether any of them hatched.
Do insects reincarnate? The way this one is acting, I feel it is a reunion. I know what a privilege it is to be so accepted by insects, birds, and other animals. I feel blessed to have been accepted by the Sacred Mother, and all of the creatures who reside in this dimension. It feels like a celebration of my coming into my Shamanism, after such a long initiation, and I am filled with love and gratitude. Namaste.
Love and Light,
xxx
