From Dragons to Snakes: Embracing Change and Renewal in Life and Work

Perhaps starting something new - like a new job, degree, or a relationship; ending something - like a relationship, a job, or cutting off 12 inches of hair; some of each - like relocating or drastically changing your strategy in work or life?

Excellent timing, for Lunar New Year has launched us out of the Year of the Wood Dragon and into the Year of the Wood Snake.

Whilst the Dragon is a fantastical creature, a chimera of body parts borrowed from many different animals and a symbolism of power and fortune, the Snake is a simpler animal, revered for its adaptability, flexibility, and symbolism of renewal.

For the Snake to grow, it must shed its skin; and just before this happens, it's new skin will be nearly complete, yet it will still be fresh, tender, and vulnerable upon the molting of the old one. Most importantly, it will happen in its own time - not too quickly and not too slowly.

I've never been a Snake (as far as I know), but the thought of that brings feelings of intense discomfort. The idea of disengaging from the world, producing something new from the inside, and then fully detaching from the outer layer by which I have been known and has protected me and to do it all at once does NOT make me spring out of bed zestfully.

The idea of any of those big changes described above can feel like that.

Onwards and upwards in the Year of the Snake!

While dancing to the theme of 'Precipice' on a Conscious Dance Monday this month, I was reminded that we do not and cannot know what a transition will feel like until it happens, despite our preparation and expectations.

How did dancing remind of me of that?

Let’s look at what a ‘precipice’ means first. The precipice is like coming to an edge where action is demanded. Sometimes there is a choice about staying there, backing away, or jumping, and sometimes it feels like we have come to the edge of the cliff and must jump. There is no going back.

As you visualize that, how do you feel? What outcome do you expect and do you even know you were thinking that? And what bodily sensations accompany your feelings and expectations?

Going over the precipice, like committing to a change, brings us into uncertainty and irreversibility, and uncertainty and irreversibility are powerful emotional activators.

The part of the dance that reminded me of this was when the facilitator divided our group in half, one half of the group dancing in a line along one wall and facing the opposite wall, the other half on the opposite wall dancing in a line facing the first group.

At the facilitator’s invitation, the first row danced towards the opposite wall while the second row of dancers stayed in place, witnessing the first one. Then the first row returned to its starting wall and the second row danced their advance towards the first row, the first one in place.

Then with each row racing each other on its starting wall, the facilitator asked both rows to dance into the middle of the room, saying "now we will collide in the middle!" And they said go, we danced forward, the two rows rapidly proceeding head-on towards each other.

As I saw my counterpart getting closer, I felt anticipation in my body as well as my mind. What will happen when we crash into each other? What part of my body will collide with my counterpart's body? Will it hurt? Will we laugh? Will we act confrontational? Or embrace in a hug?

Closer, closer, and closer... I lost sight of all dancers in my periphery as my counterpart and I came toward each other, anticipating the crash....

They leave you reminders of their existence

Seconds later, I was heading toward the opposite wall, past the middle of the room, past my counterpart. We hadn’t collided or even been in contact.

Checking in with the room, I realized that all dancers of the opposing rows had slipped past each other, like two combs with teeth spaced so far apart that they do not interlock.

On this realization, my whole body and awareness relaxed. My attention freed to anything and anywhere except the collision that my mind had hyperfocused on in the moments before. Interestingly, despite my mind's hyperfocus, my body and my counterpart agreed on a different choice.

Since there was no contact, there was no difference in the physical sensation of dancing in front of people, in between people, and behind people, yet the mental and emotional experience had changed drastically. Had I done this dance with my eyes closed, I would have experienced it differently.

All of this is making me hyperaware of the story I anticipate with just a little bit of verbal and visual information, and how wrong that story could be.

The Year of the Snake promises to be a year of renewal for me. Just as a snake sheds its skin to allow further growth and to remove parasites attached to the old skin (wonderopolis.org), making some changes will allow me to grow further and remove energy extracting hindrances.

As I write that, I notice the discomfort, like I’m anticipating, even dreading the work it will take. But if I can approach these moments calmly and compassionately, I can approach it with the wisdom of the precipice dance, “What are you telling yourself about things that haven’t happened yet?” and “What freedom might you gain by committing to the decision and opening to perceptions beyond your current expectation?”

This skin has hung from this plant and survived typhoons since early November