The other night I had a whacky dream. Who knows what my psyche is up to?
In the dream, my cat Buddy - a 2-year-old, fluffy, brown tabby - turned into a half cat/half tarantula.
For reference, Buddy is the sweetest little guy. The first time we met him at the cat cafe where we adopted him, he was so tiny. He was laying on this green poofy cat bed belly up. His belly is super fluffy and tan. His eyes were closed. Other cats would come and mess with him, and this little guy did not budge. Fast forward 2 years, and he still loves laying belly up. He is so trusting.
In the dream, his top half was still him and the bottom half was all spider - 8 furry legs. Such an odd image.
In my process of unpacking this image, I remembered spider cat Buddy was completely content in the dream. Just his usual sweet self.
When I think about the symbolism of a spider - they are building a web, they are scrappy.
In this season of life, in liminal space, shedding an old professional role, and needing money to sustain me, I have had to be very resourceful like the spider.
This spider, this scrappy foundation, has made it possible for me to hold on to that soft, sweet (the cat) dream. The big dream. The writer, the creator.
Both are necessary during this season. It felt like my dream was a good omen even though it was creepy. It was saying that I won’t lose the sweetness. I won’t lose the dream. Let the foundational part of me do what it needs to do to survive, and then everything else will work out
Sometimes a concept is too tricky to articulate in words and then the psyche miraculously shows us an image that captures what was too hard to say. Thank you my dear spider cat.
