Serpentine Skin

Two weeks ago, I realized that I am a serpent. Not a sneaky, legless lizard with a hidden agenda. Not the dark idea of serpents that has been twisted to ignite fear. In truth, serpents represent duality, rebirth, and purification. This idea is consistent across many cultures. Serpents are a physical representation of the magic of Earth herself. So then, how am I a serpent?


Two weeks ago, I was so, so sick of myself. I disliked everything about myself. I couldn't stand that way I talked, looked, ate, or the sound of my inner voice - even the tiniest whisper. I hated the path I was on, too. I'm not telling you this because I need sympathy, empathy, or to be handled gently. I am not writing this down, to publish to the world, in order show that everyone feels 'not enough' sometimes. While those are two absolutely wonderful reasons to create something, it is simply not my goal here. I am sharing this story because the realization my despairing ego came across, picked of the dusty pavement, and tidied up, has completely changed my life. 


That sounds dramatic. But, unfortunately, it is true. I say unfortunate, meaning unfortunate for you, because now I am the type of person who gets all wound up, only to find the answers to her woes on her own, and claim to others that her life has now changed and that they should change theirs, too. Well, I am sorry. Today I am that person. Tomorrow I may not be. And that's actually the whole point to this piece. 


The point is that we change. I'm sure you have heard before that change is good. I would argue change it vital. Change is vital to our existence as humans, as we are bound to nature's rhythms. We have merely formed an illusion of separation between us and the bears, ladybugs, and even serpents. When serpents need change, they shed their skin. To them, it is only a layer that must be dropped so they are not weighed down by parasites ruining their wellbeing, and can move on with fresh skin. So why is it so damn hard for us to do the same? We aren't different. The toxic friendships, stressful work environments, deadlines upon deadlines, and the whole concept of "clean" eating are all parasites that are eating away at us. Yet, we don't drop them. We don't truly get rid of them - because the idea of ourselves that we have built up are attached to them. So we stay. This is the way I have been living, and many people are still living. Two weeks ago, though, I realized that I could shed that layer of skin that was attached to my parasites. I could just let it go. It just didn't fit me anymore. And that's probably why I was so uncomfortable - hating on myself and the life I had constructed. It was time to let go of that layer. Because in reality, there is always fresh skin underneath. It's not over. I can continue to rebirth and reinvent myself until my time is up on this Earth, and I am fresh out of skin. 


For now, I am young. And all the beautiful layers of my serpentine skin are just waiting beneath my surface waiting patiently for their time to arise.