Find a comfortable spot to sit or lie down.
Let yourself be settled.
Take a slow,
Steady breath in.
Again,
Breathe in.
Be aware of the weight of your body supported fully by the surface beneath you.
Notice your spine lengthening softly.
Notice your shoulders easing with every exhale.
The tension is leaving your body with every exhale.
You settle deeper,
Anchored by my voice and your own breath as it rises and falls.
Allow your awareness to drop down into your belly and lower into your hips,
Your legs,
Your feet.
Feel your feet solid and heavy.
Relax.
Bring your awareness to any points in your body that feel sore or tight or tense.
Just notice and see if,
With some gentle encouragement,
Those parts can let go.
Your forehead is smooth,
Your jaw is soft,
Your hands relaxed.
With each breath,
You feel a golden thread of light running through your spine,
Anchoring you to the earth below and stretching upward into the vast night sky above.
You're connected.
You are held.
You are safe.
You are ready.
You see yourself standing at the edge of a quiet forest at night.
The air is cool,
Scented with wildflowers and damp moss.
Moonlight spills across a narrow path that winds between tall trees.
As you begin to walk,
You notice delicate,
Fine strands of silk in the trees catching the moonlight.
They glisten as they stretch between branches,
Stones and even your own hands as you brush past.
The further you walk,
More of these threads appear,
Shimmering,
Humming softly with music and life.
The path takes you into a vast clearing and here your breath catches as you see where all these strands are leading.
A web.
Not an ordinary web,
But an immense,
Breathtaking tapestry of light and silk and life and song stretching between the trees and reaching far upward into the sky.
Gold,
Silver,
Rainbow threads merged with the constellations.
Stars hang in its strands.
The whole universe woven into this living,
Breathing web.
At the centre of the web is Grandmother Spider.
She rests in stillness and vastness and deep,
Bone-deep knowing.
Her eyes are old,
Kind,
Reflecting ancient galaxies.
Her presence and care hums through the entire web,
Watchful,
Patient,
Infinite.
She doesn't move towards you,
But you are pulled to move towards her.
You step carefully onto the web.
It holds you easily,
Strong,
Subtle and soft beneath your feet as you climb up into the sky web,
Listening to the sound of the humming strands,
Marvelling at the beauty.
You climb towards Grandmother Spider.
As you reach Grandmother Spider,
You take a breath.
You have many things that you want to ask her,
Tell her.
Many stories you feel bubbling up in you.
Many hurts,
Grief,
Loss,
Joys,
Celebrations.
It all wants to come out and be shared with Grandmother Spider.
And as you start to speak and tell her these things,
As they come out,
You find that threads of glowing silk also pour out of you,
Like music given form.
Every word,
Every note of sound spins into these vibrant humming threads.
And you begin to move,
Stretching,
Turning,
Dancing.
And with each movement,
Threads stream from your hands,
Your heart.
These are not random strands.
They are your words,
Your stories,
Your medicine.
Everything you've ever offered to the world.
Grandmother Spider witnesses you as you birth these threads.
Her eyes meet yours and you know that this is right,
That this is good,
That you are where you're meant to be.
You notice there are gaps in the web,
In places.
These areas with threads have become frayed or broken and your heart knows immediately your threads are what's needed here.
Your voice,
Your wisdom,
Your living presence is the exact thing that will strengthen and repair these spaces.
You get to weaving.
And as you do,
The web vibrates with life.
A soft hum fills the air,
A song of gratitude and connection.
Grandmother Spider watches,
Her eyes saying,
You've always been part of this web.
You've always been a weaver.
You weave your threads into the web until you've fixed all of those broken and frayed places.
And then you decide to rest.
Laying down gently on the web,
Appreciating the work that you have done.
Grandmother Spider takes a blanket woven with the same rainbow,
Gold,
Silver threads and covers you while you rest and dream.
You can come back to this web anytime,
But for now,
It is time to leave.
You hand Grandmother Spider back the blanket and she hands you a gift,
An object or symbol.
You feel the weight of it in your hand and you offer her thanks.
You take your gift and climb gently back down to the forest floor.
The thread still through the trees and in your heart,
Connecting you to the web above.
You walk back along that moonlit path.
The air feels lighter.
Your body hums with purpose.
You know every act,
Every word,
Every truth you share sends ripples across the web.
You are never weaving alone.
And now as you return your awareness to this space,
You feel your breath moving in and out.
You rub your hands together and place them over your eyes,
Opening your eyes gently into the darkness.
You take a breath in and out.
You are here.
You are present.
