Spider bite

These are the 'Ole moons, the reflective and reconsidering times (4 of them before the moon comes full, 3 of them when the moon is waning). We have "pulled the plug" on our proposal to move onto the prairie front. Too many risks and too little real support. So yesterday Pete and I spent time here in the woods a bit stunned by the attempt. Talking about what happened helped a little, but mostly what helped was to clean up the dust and cobwebs inside the vardo and the Quonset. As I prepared the vardo for Pete to vacuum I pulled off a length of cloth that warms the underside of our futon. I felt a small sharp sting. Quick bite! A nanosecond of doubt fled. I knew I had been bitten by Spider. I searched for it. There. Circled into a tight ball, 'playing possum' was 'Uku'uku. Using a small cloth I unfurled the spider, very much alive. Looking at my finger I saw the bite already reddening.

"You need to go outside!" It's warm in the vardo and they love to sneak inside. I get that. It's been a few years since my last spider bite. I remember what the Medicine Woman told me, "Have you asked what Spider is trying to tell you?"  I had not thought to ask that question back then. After tossing the cloth and spider outside I walked into the orchard, looked for the green leaves of Laukahi (Plantain) and picked two and chewed them into a poultice for the bite.

I asked Pete for a band-aid to hold the poultice in place and told him what had happened. Through out the day and into the night I asked Spider, "What are you trying to tell me?"

As I write early in the morning, the redness of Spider's bite has been eased. Thank you Laukahi. I listen. Answers seem to be coming, unexpected or perhaps answers that are more and more "Listen more often to things than to beings. Tis the Ancestors breath ..."

With the 'Ole Moons, the answers unfurl. I pray to have ears to listen, and hear what is true, and write the story to express the medicine.