Shedding skin
Our pet snake shed her skin this week. We have a lovely ball python, named Autumn who has lived with us since October. She is the newest member of our family and she really is a great addition. I wasn’t totally sure if I would enjoy having a pet snake but of all the beings that I take care of (my three kids and two cats), she is by far the easiest and most low maintenance.
My daughter Brynn had been checking on her lately and noticing she was getting ready to shed. You could tell she was ready to leave behind her current iteration of her skin, there were subtle visible signs she was changing. Her color looked a little different, almost translucent with a blue like shimmering sheen. Her underbelly was a vibrant pink-orange color. She was spending more time resting and in stillness. Although let’s be real, she spends most of her time curled up in a ball under her rock. You couldn’t necessarily tell that something was shifting until you got close, you held her, you noticed and really paid attention; she was transforming before our eyes.
My daughter Brynn holding Autumn
Then one day Brynn comes out of her room in the morning excitedly calling, (because yes, of course the snake lives in my 10 year old daughter's room), “she shed, she shed, she shed.” Brynn found the snake skin shed underneath Autumn’s log. This amazing intricate web of her previous skin, just left there, right on the floor of her enclosure. It was so beautiful, so detailed, like a piece of her but not her. She no longer inhabited this skin, she had outgrown it and left it behind. I wonder what becomes of a snake shed in the natural world? Here in our domesticated life we look at it in wonder and awe. as we appreciate this miracle of endings, beginnings and transformations.
Maybe you're thinking, “Weird, you got all of that from a snake skin?” Yes, I did. This is how my brain and body works. Always creating pathways, connections and webs of kinship between myself, other humans and the beings that are part of the wider world. The plants, animals, rocks, and elements. I learn most of my Very Important Lessons from the natural world. They teach me so much and with such grace and ease. I can muscle my way through a book, thinking, trying, wrestling with a topic to “figure it out.” Then one day, I’ll finally just sit, be and look out my window and right before me is a bird. Singing a beautiful birdsong, gathering food, flying around with her bird friends, creating a nest, a home. And I will remember….oohhh that is what I am here for. To be. To live. To play. To rest. I am not saying we should not read and rationalize and think logically and critically about topics. We need both ways of understanding and learning. I just find that it is so easy for me to hone and depend on the intelligence of my brain forgetting about the intelligence that lives in my heart and in my gut. The wisdom of the body, of emotion, of the animal nature that is part of each of us.
So back to the snake skin. Naturally, I did some google research to learn more about snakes shedding their skin. I learned that snakes shed their skin up to once a month or as few as a couple times a year, usually more when they are younger and growing. Snakes shed their skin because as they grow, they don’t fit inside their skin any longer. They outgrow a part of themselves and shed the outer layer. This process continues throughout their life. Growing, shedding, transforming, again and again and again. I also read that right before they shed, their eyes turn cloudy. They can’t see very well, everything becomes a bit blurry and disorienting, so they use this time to hide, curl up and be still. Their new skin will also cover their eyes, everything about how they see the world and themselves will be shed, then renewed and grown again.
Of course, our animal kin has a process that is ongoing and normal and natural for growth and transformation. What can we learn from our snake friends? And to be clear, I am still somewhat wary of our 4 foot long ball python. I want to want to hold her, but I am still a little uneasy. She is so sweet, and gentle and my kids LOVE holding her. It is an edge I am still playing with :)
The one time I reluctantly and nervously held Autumn
The snakes can teach us that growing and changing is a normal, natural part of being alive. We can learn that as we grow, something that used to work for us might no longer fit. As we expand, there are certain ways of being, conditioning, patterns, cultural models, systems, roles, relationships, beliefs and thoughts we might have to shed. Before we can shed, there is a period of disorientation where everything might feel a bit off, shaky, cloudy, unclear. That does not mean you are doing it wrong, that means you are on your path. As I have learned from the Rooted Global Village and Karine Bell the first step in new culture formation or change of any kind is disorientation. It is a time of not knowing, AND also seeing clearly the way you have been in your life and in the world is no longer working for you.
““For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction.””
After the disorientation phase comes, stillness, slowing down, being with the “in between” space. The no longer that, but not yet this, the liminal space of possibility and potential. The becoming. The slow and somewhat painful unraveling of leaving something behind. The grief of shedding a layer of your being that you held so close that it fit you like skin. The pain and sense of loss in transforming is NORMAL. Even if you are shedding something that will lead to a more expansive, truer, wholehearted version of yourself. there is still grief. That skin that held you so close and tight served a purpose, was adaptive, made sense for a reason. AND it’s time for that to end. It’s time to step into something new, a rebirth; the next version of you, that is still you but also different. I am thankful for Autumn and all of the snakes for teaching me about growing, shedding, and transforming. If you are afraid of snakes-sorry, I hope the metaphor still makes sense and is helpful :)
What are you currently outgrowing?
What beliefs, conditioning, thoughts, relationships, cultural models, systems or patterns would you like to shed?
What needs to be grieved or honored as you transform and grow?
What new version or new way of being wants to be birthed or brought forward?
What desire, longing or intention is growing inside of you?
