Walking out the door this morning, I ran into a spider web. Not just any spider web, this one. For a moment I went through that flailing arm phase that everyone goes through when they walk through and invisible web–throwing my arms up, wiping my face off, trying to figure out what just happened.
Then, I wanted to wipe the whole thing off the door. It was in my way, it took my time–wasted my time; I expended energy meant for my day on a tiny web of sticky string… that no one else could see.
Finally, I reached a point of fascination; it was beautiful… the web took up a huge part of the doorway, this tiny spider had created a masterpiece–and I just screwed it up. I was still mad about it; I thought I still had some web hanging from my mouth–but no matter how hard I try, I can’t make something of that magnitude, that precise, that…amazing.
I still didn’t like it. It interrupted me. It scared me…
Change has that affect on me most of the time. But it happens. Sometimes it seems like no one else can see the change around me, no one else realizes what is happening–and I’m just flailing my arms trying to figure out what just happened… Sometimes I just simply don’t like it. Sometimes it scares me. Occasionally it surprises me–the beauty, the intricacy, the detail. Sometimes, it just sucks up energy and I need to catch my breath.
But, it happens. Without my knowing, without my invitation; I just happen to walk into it.