Feature article from our February 2025 Newsletter

I've always had a healthy fear of snakes, passed down to me through generations of family and culture, that encourages me not to play or live my life in 'unsafe' places or ways, in case of a snake. Which is sometimes very wise advice and has kept me safe, sometimes however, it entrenched a fear of the wild.
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"Don't go and explore that scrub of bush over there.. there might be a snake!!!" or "Are you sure you should do that? What if there is a snake?"
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There's a metaphor we often use in Holistic Psychotherapy - 'defanging the snake' - which basically means, making the scary thing less scary. Helping a trauma become less traumatic, disempowering the monster, usually using awareness or compassion in some way.
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I love this metaphor, mainly because it backs up my wary stance of wild snakes... they need to be defanged before I'll go near them.
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However, conversely, I have a love and fascination for snakes! They seem majestic, magical, divine and other-worldly. And its hard not to feel excited or like I am being visited by a symbol or omen when I see one... they carry some message for me from a sacred realm.
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And when we say 'defang the snake' this mythical part of the snake then becomes dominant. The monster is generous and full of wisdom, it even seems beautiful.
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The Year of the Snake began this week - and I felt a huge affinity for it. Mainly in the idea of 'shedding a skin'. I live near the bush and most mornings I sit in a little spot and allow my eyes to drink in the green around me, and let myself hear the sounds of birds.
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Recently, I came out every morning of the week and found a new little snake-skin, next to or near my spot. My simultaneous response of 'Wow! I'm in sync with the universe' and also 'OMG - is it safe to sit down?'
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They were little skins, in pieces, probably Golden Crown snakes - not venomous (although they pretend to be!). So I felt assured that this was, indeed, safe communication from the sacred world. One morning I came out and a new skin was glistening there, still slightly damp, perfectly whole and intact, the size of a shoelace. 'WOW! A gift!!!' I've kept it.. the details are beautiful... even the tongue and eyes are imprinted upon it.
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I was on a roll. Wow, all these blessings and the year of the snake!! What did it all mean? Again, I reflected on the metaphor of shedding a skin - letting go. Allowing the new. Fresh and exciting.
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One morning, however, I came out and there was another new skin. It looked odd, different from the others. I looked more closely and realised, it was a dead snake. It had died trying to shed its skin. Its body looked to have got stuck somehow. I could feel a huge resistance in me... what did this mean? And the message, repeated over and over was, resisting growth and change means death. I hated this message.... there are some things I'm not ready to let go of!!! I needed this message to soften and so I asked the dead snake to tell me more.
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I watched it for a few hours, and then a few days, leaving it where it lay. At one point, early on, it actually looked to be alive! But actually, it was so full of ants, quickly making light work of the snake-flesh, there was an illusion created of the snake moving... but it was movement under the old, dead skin the snake had been trying to shed. It looked so strange. (Sorry if too much information!! I'll stop there with the gory details... but it does go on). Eventually it was nothing but bones. I'm still marvelling at how the vertebrae, as thin as hairs, could support such a powerful body. The skull - no bigger than my little fingernail, supported a magnificent alert head, when living, full of sense and response.
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I'm still sitting with the bones, letting them talk to me, asking them, 'what are you telling me?'. I thought I would share this story, so they could talk to you, too.
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Some things I've realised, is there is a grief process involved in the shedding of old skins. And not all skins shed in the same way. Some are ready and slide right off. Some come off in pieces - messy and disconnected - needing us to rub up against sharp or hard places to help them off. While others, rarely but true, get stuck. And they are the ones that hurt the most and can even be deadly. These ones, we might need help with. The ones where it can feel like 'too much too soon' or actually that 'I liked that old self, that old dream, that old feeling of familiarity and I don't want to let go of it'.
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I'll leave this story here... there is endless meaning to make of it.
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If you would like to explore the letting go process, or the prospect of some skins to shed, in a safe and compassionate space, please book in with any one of our passionate therapists this month. It might be that you identify grief, pain or resistance of some kind in your life right now or perhaps huge amounts of stress. Or it might be that there is some newness to recognise and celebrate. Some glistening, fresh version of self, sparkling like a shiny jewel, that has worked hard to be here. All of it is welcome.
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