EssaySnakes

Snakes

In shamanism Snake appears when one is about to undergo a significant personal change, so intense and dramatic that at an old self will metaphorically die as a new self emerges. Perhaps this is the hidden story behind the serpent in the Garden of Eden. Eve’s temptation by the Devil, and subsequent yielding, made way for a different outcome for mankind. Instead of viewing it as a ruination maybe we can be grateful for the chance to truly live and learn. That a woman had to bear this trial brings to light the creative process always at play in and around the female psyche.

I read once that snakes are lizards without legs. The usual place I viewed them was at the zoo but once, when I was young, there was one in our house. It was a harmless King snake, but with all the screaming, shrieking, and running around that my sister and I did, to this day I can’t even remember seeing the creature. A short while later I came within a few feet of my first rattlesnake. As my family and I hiked in the Superstition Mountains outside Phoenix, several hikers passed by and indicated there was a rattler up ahead on the trail. With anticipation my dad immediately took us there. The serpent was wedged between two large boulders, clearly minding his own business, but had now become a spectacle for the growing crowd. I felt safe enough to indulge my interest to look and look since he seemed quite squished between the two rocks. Yellow, fat, and with distinctive diamond shapes along his back, I strained to see his face but never did.

My older daughter is quite fearful of snakes. When she was about ten years old we were in the midst of moving into an old farmhouse when a large black snake slithered near the driveway. She and I stood on a trailer, which undoubtedly made her feel safer, but still, to my surprise, she commented on how neat he was. She spoke the truth, for he truly was magnificent. I was as awed by the creature before us as I was of my daughter not letting her fear drown out the authenticity speaking in her heart. The snake seemed aware of us, maybe even curious about who was moving in before he slithered away. My husband said he went up a nearby tree. Thereafter, when our thirteen-year-old son would cut the grass on the riding lawn mower, he’d make a wide circle around that tree, obviously worried the snake might fall on his head.

There have since been other intriguing encounters with snakes for my children. While at Grand Teton National Park last summer in Wyoming we saw two more snakes—a small garter at our campground and a large bull snake on a trail in the park. They actually tried to catch the smaller one, to no avail, and the bigger one made us all halt to pay homage to his skills of slithering straight down the side of a big rock. No one screamed or yelled or ran away in sheer terror. Evolution has occurred since the days of my sister and me. The fact is simple—snakes are cool.

It’s said that St. Patrick drove all the snakes from Ireland in his bid to purge paganism and replace it with Christianity. It’s a strong analogy but yet perpetuates the ongoing drama that snakes are bad, evil, and should be avoided. I certainly fled my first encounter with one, but through the years have been blessed, as my children have as well, with more meaningful encounters. As symbolized by the shedding of their skin, transformation is a lesson we must all endure.