Tarantula Speed

Two days ago, as the sun was edging toward the horizon and I was hiking along a beautiful trail in Joshua Tree National Monument, I met a tarantula on the path. Like a good hiker, I pretty much always keep my eyes on the ground ahead of me so I saw this wild creature well before coming too close. He/she was black, hairy of course, and about seven inches in length. I have never seen one out and about before, just in the glass cases at the zoo or the nature center in Eaton Canyon near our house. In captivity they sit pretty still, looking depressed. This one was walking down the path just the same as me, except a lot slower. I never knew tarantulas moved so slowly. His/her movement was constant, deliberate and sloth-like. Watching him was a little like waiting for honey to drop out of a squeeze bottle. Some part of me wanted it to go faster.

My tendency, or habit I guess, is to rush along. And that's what I was doing when I saw him. I was hustling to get back to the car before dark, even though I had plenty of time. It seems like I am always hustling to get to the the next thing or place, when I don't really need to. I used to always be late, so that made me rush, but now that I am usually on time, I still rush to make sure I am there on time. Pretty ridiculous, I know. My daughter Grace gets mad at me when I rush her out the door saying, "we'll be late!" and then we get there ten minutes early.

This afternoon I was rushing through my bedroom with several items in my hands, the way I often do, in a mode of "doing" and "picking up." Frances was in there playing with the cat and she started heading towards me. I was moving so fast (for no reason at all mind you) that I tripped on the edge of the rug and fell, taking Frances down with me. It was such a surprise to lose my balance and fall, not just to my knees, but all the way down, that I let out a strange sort of half yell/scream. Frances was just as surprised as I was and we just sat there stunned for a moment. Luckily we were both okay and thought it was funny. I had twisted my ankle a little and Frances had banged her knee so we just sat on the floor, not moving at all. I thought of the tarantula, and that nice, slow, sure-footed pace. What a good teacher for me.