Awen Fragments: The Spider on the Ceiling

Glimpses of spirit, story, and silliness...

There’s a spider in the corner of the ceiling above my desk.

She’s not weaving, not moving – just there, perfectly still. Legs tucked in, waiting

I’ve seen her before, in the same spot, several days in a row. Not nesting, not spinning. Just watching. Or maybe just ebing. I can’t tell if she’s dead, or meditating. Maybe this is their spellcraft.

There is no web – no visible one anyway – but I still feel it. A thread of presence stretched between her and me. The kind you can’t see, but that changes the room when you notice it.

I don’t want her gone, I want her to stay excatly wher she is: silent, unfussy, sacred in her not-doing. A reminder that sometimes your whole purpose is to simply be in place and let the threads of meaning weave themselves around you.

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Awen Fragments

Glimpses of spirit, story, and silliness...

This isn’t a big idea. It’s a small one. And that’s the point.

Awen Fragments begins here – not as a fully formed concept, but as a practice. A gentle invitation to write something. Anything. A fleeting thought, a funny moment, a detail that snagged on the edge of attention. A way to get the writing flowing without the need to explain everything.

Each post will be short. Sometimes poetic, sometimes observational, sometimes a bit ridiculous. All I’m doing is noticing. The things that shimmer, that make me laugh, that feel slightly out of step with the rest of the day. The odd magic of a fox in the car park, a child’s drawing chalked on the pavement, the precise shade of sky that makes everything feel like a story waiting to happen.

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