02/16/2026
Snake is older than our fear of it.
It is kundalini —
life force coiled at the base of the spine.
It is shakti —
the feminine current that rises when it’s time.
Yes, it has been cast as tempter.
Yes, it has been made into a symbol of danger.
But serpent energy has always lived at the edge of transformation —
between death and rebirth.
Snake moves close to the ground.
It feels the pulse of the earth — the Great Mother beneath everything.
It can live in water, on land, and in trees.
It travels into dark places and narrow spaces without losing itself.
When it sheds, it rubs against what is rough.
Not violently —
but persistently.
Friction is part of the release.
And during that time, it is vulnerable.
It withdraws.
It regenerates.
Approach a snake mid-shed and it may strike —
not from malice,
but from exposure.
There is wisdom in that.
Some seasons require rest — not retreat.
What seems dark can be an invitation to soften.
What feels like loss may be preparation.
On the other side of shedding is new life.
True power stays close to the earth.
The serpent was never just a villain.
It was always a threshold.