Renewal: BLOG 4 SK 04/28/2017

This week has been an interesting one, and to engage further with a symbol one that has stuck out by far has been the snake. I will explore the more major moments of how this symbol came up.

            In one of my free creativity moments, I drew into the journal a snake swirling across the full page, and drew throughout it the mantras respective to each of the main 7 chakras - quick snapshot below. I do not quite know why, but I also noticed that throughout the week I have been very drawn towards revisiting the Kundalini, almost in an overpowering way. I have spent many hours watching and reading about other's experiences, frustrations, coping mechanisms, understanding of it. For another class, I also came to being interested in exploring kundalini as a topic for my final paper within the lens of the class content. On Sunday evening, I had briefly googled a search for kundalini in Harlem, curious to see what there is perhaps in terms of spiritual support groups or workshops and things like that, and found mostly kundalini yoga classes that I told myself I'd like to explore further this summer. I followed this by spending a good amount of time doing self-reiki, I had been struggling with a strong overpowering of emotions and somewhat internal chaos, and I find this is the best way I know how to bring myself calm and healing - so I focused deeply on the third eye chakra and the root chakra.

            The next morning, I woke up remembering a large part of my dream involved the snake. One of these moments involved me talking to a male character and asking a question about the snake, while at the same time doing a search of the snake. I recall a particular visualization of seeing a page that looked like it was from an aged book (old, brown, coffee-stained style), and on it was a large drawing of the snake and the words of the book coiled around it in traditional hand-writing. I also recall the male character mentioning that they had seen a snake when they were in the rainforest in Chicago, but that no one had been bitten and I got the impression that the snake brought no harm or did not need to be feared. The final piece I remember from this dream is also seeing a close-up image of only my lower body, lying on my back in the same bed I sleep in and a very small, grey, snake like figure quickly slithering down between my legs and disappearing as it hit my thighs. When I woke up, I felt compelled to google the rattle snake.

            I am unsure what to make of this exactly, but the clear and continuous presence of the snake symbol brings a sort of confirmation and syncing with what is happening in terms of my confusions or moments of unknowing that relates to my spiritual experience, my life's direction and my self-growth. I thought it was interesting that this came up this week particularly as I have engaged with exploring kundalini on a deeper level, and trying to understand the darker moments and experiences of spiritual growth that has been a very new experience so far the past several months (dark night of the soul?). The snake, very alike to my prior draw on goddess Kali, represents this death and rebirth. As they move through the physical shedding of the skin, this is an incredible transformation and healing process - a renewal.

           This reminds me of a tedtalk I was watching earlier in the week where the speaker emphasized the power of choice, and the importance of focusing on the present moment and life without constantly looking back to refer to the old self, or previous experiences/patterns in order to inform our present decisions. She almost made this seem more detrimental than in any way logical or purposeful. This was an important takeaway and in thinking about the shedding process of the snake, running this course allows the snake to cast off the old self and emerge as a new and 'better' (serving the present moment/experiences) snake. Interestingly, I also read that in the process of shedding, the outer layer of the skin is turned completed inside out; thinking about this in terms of inner work and the spiritual journey we take to go deeper, it seems there is no other way than for us to truly peel apart the layers and turn them over to face the complete picture.

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Waiting - Leza Lowitz

You keep waiting for something to happen,
the thing that lifts you out of yourself,

catapults you into doing all the things you've put off
the great things you're meant to do in your life,

but somehow never quite get to.
You keep waiting for the planets to shift

the new moon to bring news,
the universe to align, something to give.

Meanwhile, the pile of papers, the laundry, the dishes the job --
it all stacks up while you keep hoping

for some miracle to blast down upon you,
scattering the piles to the winds.

Sometimes you lie in bed, terrified of your life.
Sometimes you laugh at the privilege of waking.

But all the while, life goes on in its messy way.
And then you turn forty. Or fifty. Or sixty...

and some part of you realizes you are not alone
and you find signs of this in the animal kingdom --

when a snake sheds its skin its eyes glaze over,
it slinks under a rock, not wanting to be touched,

and when caterpillar turns to butterfly
if the pupa is brushed, it will die --

and when the bird taps its beak hungrily against the egg
it's because the thing is too small, too small,

and it needs to break out.
And midlife walks you into that wisdom

that this is what transformation looks like --
the mess of it, the tapping at the walls of your life,

the yearning and writhing and pushing,
until one day, one day

you emerge from the wreck
embracing both the immense dawn

and the dusk of the body,
glistening, beautiful

just as you are.