Have you ever seen a spider weaving a web? While I am not a fan of spiders, it is impossible to deny the artistry of the intricate design. The almost perfect spiral from the center and the star of connective threads, it is an incredible piece of art that decorates cracks, corners, and crevices. A web is simultaneously a predator’s snare set to capture an unsuspecting fly and a home. It is also a vivid illustration of another nearly invisible phenomena.
Our lives are being narrated by everyone around us and most importantly by ourselves. We tell ourselves what we are good at and where we are lacking. We listen to other narratives and add them to our own. There is an interlocking web of stories that define our daily life. They define where we live, what our homes look like and with whom we spend time. They answer the question of whether or not you are the kind of person that watches tv or reads a book. They are the motivators behind actions and habits.
As humans we rely on habit formation to survive in this world. And our habits result from our beliefs, but the most important question to ask is whether or not these beliefs are from the strong narrative web or if they are based on truth. At their deepest point those beliefs are rooted in identity or lies. Flannery O’Connor wisely explains in her essay The Regional Writer, found in the collection ‘Mystery and Manners,’ “An identity is not found on the surface… It is not made from what passes, but from those qualities that endure, regardless of what passes, because they are related to truth.” With this firm understanding of identity, Flannery spent a great deal of her art vividly illustrating the collapse of the personal narrative. Often with grotesque stories, her works allow the reader to keenly feel that terrifying collapse when one realizes that they are either a fly caught in a web or a spider engorged at the center. With the bird’s eye view of an author, she reveals the staggering truth that even the best of us fall prey to regularly.
Although these acts are often harmless or unrecognizable as a sin. For example, your motivation for brushing your teeth may be because you like clean teeth, it may be because others hate your bad breath, or it may be because you know it is good to care for your body and your teeth because God created you and loves you. At some level this may seem like a silly example. Whatever the motivation, you have clean teeth at the end of the day. Isn’t that what is most important? Perhaps not? Perhaps it is in the simple little things that are motivated by selfishness or vanity that we are missing a deep encounter with the Good who gifts us each moment. Or perhaps knowing that the simple things are motivated by selfishness or vanity is a good identifier that the motivation for the larger things in your life is tainted with the same brush.
Loving wholeheartedly at every moment of every day is a pretty tall order, especially when it is almost impossible to identify all the dear little areas of selfishness we hold so tightly. Luckily, it is a lifelong pursuit much aided by a loving God, His Church and the sacraments. In addition to these, Flannery gives another hint to identifying the little lies of a web. Concluding her thoughts on identity in her essay The Regional Writer Flannery adds this insightful truth, “In its entirety, it [identity] is known only to God, but of those who look for it, none gets so close as the artist.” It is a lifelong struggle to identify and correct the areas in our lives that we are acting like a spider or a fly instead of being firmly grounded in truth. Artists offer an invaluable invitation to a fresh perspective on ourselves. I should add that artists who seek truth, goodness and beauty seem to offer the greatest level of perspective. But I believe that most creative actions tie a person with the all-loving Creator who allows this fresh perspective to shine through the web and give us insight into our own lives.