Learning to communicate with animals and professionally helping humans to understand their non-human friends and family members better is an important part of my life. The space of communication requires mental focus and a degree of inner peace and relaxation – my old cat Sipho refused to communicate with me when I’d had coffee. Too much mental noise. In that way, the communications help me stay balanced. Today, my animal guide Wolverine asked me to post about Spider as a guide – to discuss the gifts of Arachnophobia and the wisdom of Spider. I used to be as afraid of spiders as the next person, and a mixture of inquiry, communication, and spirit guide knowledge has transformed that fear into appreciation and familiarity.

If you’d like to be less stressed when encountering spiders in your life, I suggest reading this post – the second part is an excerpt out of my book and deals with inquiry into fears of spiders.

The little black jumping spiders are a good spider to begin getting familiar with – they are small, alert, barely poisonous to humans, and actually very cute!

Spider is Grandmother to indigenous people, it has rich lore associated with it. In Greek mythology, Spider belongs to the fates – the three women who spin the destiny of human lives. As the keeper of the primordial alphabet Spider aids in expression through writing, drawing, or painting. Read more

The message of this particular jumping spider is to spin your own destiny (or jump on it) and be fearless in living your life. Discover new things, interact with everyone who comes along, look people in the eye (and animals) – be alive! And please, stop shrieking every time you see a spider. It is a little annoying.

Fears, phobias, and dangerous spiders

From “Awakening From Fear” – Chapter 4

“You either question your thoughts, or you believe them. There is no other way.”

Byron Katie

If fears are false evidence appearing real, phobias are taking frightening thoughts to an entirely different level. People with a phobia find it hard to even contemplate the subject of that fear. Should someone talk about it they might shudder, want to change the subject of conversation, feel weak in their bodies, or even get angry at the person who brought up the loathsome subject.

When actually encountering the object of their phobia, they might be paralyzed and retreat into themselves, overreact, experience tunnel vision, scream, lash out, hurt themselves or others in an attempt to get away, or faint. Before Inquiry found me, I used to be one of those people with regards to 2 subjects – fireworks, and spiders. When encountering a spider I’d jump, run away, scream if it was on my body, brush people aside to get away, refuse to enter a room with a spider in it. If you’re a person who likes drama, this is all very satisfying. However, if you like to feel happy and at ease in your body, being taken over by fear like this is very uncomfortable and out of control.

I’m no longer like that. I’ve spent time getting to know my thinking around spiders and have done The Work. I’m comfortable now. I’m one of those who gets called when a spider needs to be moved – and I enjoy the interaction!

If you’re happy with your thoughts, by all means, keep them.

If however, you prefer peace of mind to fears and phobic thinking, I invite you to do The Work. 

I remember a situation when I was about 12 years old. We just arrived at a summer holiday house near Lake Balaton in Hungary. We shared the house with another family. Us 4 kids raced upstairs to explore and claim the best bed. The upstairs was a big yellow room with the afternoon sun streaming in. It had a huge balcony. We opened the door and went outside when I heard a scream behind me: “Spider!”

And there it was, brown, long-haired and legged, about as big as my hand, and my, it was fast! It was running across the floor towards me and we all screamed and scrambled out of the way. I climbed onto the table in the middle of the room. Complete chaos reigned for some time – until my mother came upstairs, scooped the spider up gently and took it outside. I refused to sleep in that room. 

I suppose the thought in my mind at that moment was that 

‘the spider is dangerous.’

Going back to that moment in my memory, I ask Question 1.

“The spider is dangerous.” 

Is it true?

The answer is YES or NO, and my answer at that moment was YES.

Question 2: 

Can I absolutely know that it is true?

The answer is YES or NO. 

I get still and wait for the answer to arise – Can I absolutely know it is dangerous? 

NO.

Question 3:

How do I react, what happens when I believe this thought, that

the spider is dangerous?

I scream and run and jump on the table. Pushing the other kids out of my way, I react blindly, really blind to where they are, to what happens to them. It’s panic. I trample over and through them to save myself. 

It’s like all energy, all sensation has gone into the body. It tingles, it feels weak and delicate. It could break, collapse. 

There is an empty space in my chest. I don’t breathe. 

In my mind, I see the spider climbing up my legs, so fast. My perception is distorted and as long as I focus on this spider in this way, it has become huge. It fills my entire vision.

Question 4: 

Who would I be without this thought, that the spider is dangerous, in the same situation?

I turn around and see it. 

In comparison to myself, it is a small creature. 

It moves fast, but not really in my direction. 

A bunch of kids bursting into its room must have startled it. It must have been startled by the noise we made.

I’m the oldest of these kids – I tell the others to calm down and open the door to the balcony wide. I direct them in a circle around the spider and we herd it out to the balcony, then we close the door. Then, I watch it as it calms down outside. 

I can appreciate it’s being. I can feel connected to it, the same as to any other animal. 

And I’ll share this lovely upstairs bedroom with the other kids.

Turnarounds to “the spider is dangerous”.

Turnaround to the opposite – the spider is not dangerous, or the spider is harmless.

It is a harmless spider, my mother takes it outside. It’s small compared to my size, even as a kid. 

Most spiders’ bites are no more poisonous than bee stings. Most spiders are shy and only bite when touched or stepped on. In the situation, without the thought, I can really see how this spider is not dangerous to me.

Turnaround to the other – I am dangerous to the spider.

Much more true. 

Spiders are quite delicate, their bodies can easily break when they drop down from a height. Their legs can break. We kids could squash it and mortally injure it. by accident or by design, trying to save ourselves. 

We make a big racket in the spider’s quiet room – it gets a big fright and tries to get away from us.

Turnaround to the self – I am dangerous to myself.

Yes, in my panic I am!

I am more likely to injure myself – and the other kids – climbing on the table in a panic than by being bitten by the spider. 

I push the others aside on the balcony. They feed on my panic and react heedlessly. 

The fear response in my body is sustained by my thinking – by judging the spider as dangerous. I don’t breathe, my legs are jelly, my eyes have tunnel vision; then the body’s feedback – no oxygen, high adrenaline – gives rise to further fearful thinking. 

It’s not the spider doing this to me … it’s ME.  

Living the turnarounds

I take time to get to know spiders. Watching them, I learn about them. I apologize for scaring them, and I do my best not to harm them. 

Spider is Grandmother to indigenous people, it has rich lore associated with it. In Greek mythology spider belongs to the fates – the three women who spin the destiny of human lives.

Spider has become one of my spirit animal guides. As the keeper of the primordial alphabet Spider aids in expression through writing, drawing or painting. 

Inquiring into our fearful thinking with The Work is an easy process. 

And how is it helpful?

What are the gifts of this inquiry into arachnophobia?

When we are scared or even in a panic, we believe the story that our thinking tells us about what is happening, and then we react according to that story. 

As long as we don’t inquire into the truth of that story, our survival at that moment lodges the fear response in memory as THE WAY. 

I survived because I panicked. 

I survived because I ran away. 

I survived because I killed the spider. 

Next time, without thinking, THE WAY of fear will happen automatically again. 

The neuron pathways in the brain and body that transmit this response increase their efficiency. They become like a well-traveled road. The more often we are confronted with the situation, the more efficient – and stronger – the response becomes, and the harder it is to get out of it. This is the way we are wired. The older we get, the harder it becomes to change our ways – unless we question our thinking.

Thinking directs our physical experience and response to life in any given situation.

As we perceive something, we classify it according to a lifetime (however long) of learning. Faster than the speed of light we give it a name, connect it with a memory, assign the corresponding emotion, a physical sensation, and then we react to that. This process is called ‘attachment’, and it is attachment to our story of the world. 

We live in close connection with thousands of other human beings and especially in close connection with human minds, and we all share those stories of fear. Every time we talk about it or hear it from another person without questioning it, our own fear neuron pathways are strengthened. The body’s response follows our thinking – it doesn’t even need the actual object of fear to be present. Every time we talk about our fear response, read or watch another person’s fear response (in a movie or a post), dream about it, or remember it, the neuron pathways increase their efficiency.

When we share our fears with others we also experience a sense of kinship, of connection. We belong together, we share this. It gives us subconscious proof that we are right in feeling this way. After all, our friends, family, internet acquaintances, celebrities and politicians feel the same. As long as it is good and right to feel and react in this way, why question if the original assumption is true? It is how we are wired, separately and collectively, and how we unconsciously increase the fear levels in our societies. 

When we inquire into our thinking we add a question mark to our assumption of THE WAY. 

It’s almost like adding signposts to a rugged country road. 

We are no longer traveling the pathways of our experience at high speed, and without looking left and right; we slow down, we start to look. Inquiry adds a new signpost, and the signpost holds a question mark – is this how it is? 

The question mark acts like a stop sign, or at least a slow down, yield – and look. 

Of course, this now sounds as if the process will take time away from you that you don’t have. The opposite is true, it stretches time, it adds time. 

It also adds space to your life. 

Albert Einstein states that both space and time are relative, and they also depend on each other. Relative time means relative to your experience. As long as we race down the road, space is limited to our narrow field of vision and time runs fast as we are running. As we slow down our experience of life, the field of vision widens to add more space, and time slows down for us.

Questioning the assumption that the spider is dangerous allows me to slow down and look at it. 

I can now actually see it – its size, in relation to its habitat (the room), and in relation to me. 

It still moves fast but not as fast as I feared before. 

I’m aware of my surroundings and of the kids with me. I can act in a way that considers all of our safety – including the spider’s. 

As I connect with the spider’s experience (scared of our noise) I feel kind, compassionate, powerful and loving. This gives me joy. 

The feedback I’ll get from the other people is that mirror: “You’re brave. You are caring. You are loving.” 

New neuron pathways are being wired. Next time I see a spider I have 2 pathways to choose from – one that makes me feel scared and powerless, and one that makes me feel powerful, kind and joyful. 

I am much more likely to actually act in those ways. 

The question mark sign is cemented in. 

And when I get to another intersection without a sign I will still remember it, and slow down and look. Thus Inquiry spreads out horizontally through our experience of the world. Questioning my fear of the spider allows me to interact differently with all other animals and humans as well.

This again gives me positive feedback. 

In my experience, the world shifts and changes. In this way, Arachnophobia has been a gift, and I’m open to the wisdom of Spider and their friendship in my world.

If you’d like to take some of your fearful thoughts to inquiry, check out these videos on how to use inquiry to become fearless!