Not all that glimmers is gold
I live in the foothills of the Sandia Mountains, and often go out walking well before sunup. It’s dark enough to require a headlamp to help me see on the uneven terrain of the mountain trails.
When I first started adventuring out in the dark, my headlamp would catch a glimmer in the rocky soil. There's a fair amount of granite in the area, and some of the minerals in the rock catch the light, creating little flashes that give the illusion of hidden treasure.
One early morning, as I was looking at the path in front of me, the light caught something especially bright, and I thought that perhaps someone had lost a ring. As I bent down to investigate, I was startled to see a spider, with its many eyes, frozen in the beam. From what I remember about spiders, they have multiple eyes, some or all of which were reflecting the light back at me.
After experiencing this phenomenon several times, I decided I was safer not examining shiny objects on the trail.
This spider encounter made me think about my susceptibility to being enticed by something that gives the illusion of value, when the reality is far different. Whether it’s the lure of some product I can’t live without, the promise of health, beauty or transformation through someone’s exclusive approach, or just the subtle pull of digital distraction to numb the challenges of life, I’ve often been caught in this web of deception.
I work with an agency whose mission is to support survivors of human trafficking. I’ve heard, many times, statements from an unknowing public that “they can just walk away” or “they choose to be prostitutes.”
The reality is, those who get trapped in a trafficking situation aren’t all that different from me. They just got caught in a web of promises that appealed to needs I haven't experienced in my own life. The glimmery words like “I’ll take care of you” or “No one will love you like I will” or “Your parents just don’t understand you.”
Coming from a stable home and having a loving marriage gives me security that many others don’t have. When you are deprived of love, longing for connection and identity, and struggling to meet your basic needs, you bend a little closer when the shiny promise catches your eye. It might be a spider, but it also might fill a need that can’t be met anywhere else.
Spider webs are meant to entrap their victims. Sticky and entangling, it’s a struggle for your life to get free. Not everyone will make it out. Most of the time, it takes external help to escape. Then, depleted and worn from the struggle, it takes support to regain strength.
This analogy plays out for many who find themselves ensnared in all kinds of traps, from addiction to substances, porn or food, to sex or labor trafficking.
I suppose my reason for even writing about this is to encourage us all to pause before placing blame or casting judgment on those struggling through their personal webs. I also want to be direct in addressing the risk we all face when pursuing the various shiny objects that catch our attention.
Look out for spiders. Look out for one another.