The Wrong Snake Part I

The wrong snake. How many times in your life have you thought to yourself, “That’s the wrong snake”?
 
Maybe if you are studying herpetology and you had a snake test and you didn’t study? (Damn! That’s the wrong snake!”)
 
Maybe if you’re Eve, settling down for a nap after a nice apple snack? (Crud! That was the wrong snake!”)
 
Maybe if you go to the zoo and look into a snake enclosure and the picture doesn’t look like the snake inside? (Hey! That’s the wrong snake!”)
 
But other than those three common situations for snake assessment, my guess is it doesn’t come up very often. At least it didn’t for me.
 
Until  it did.
 
I was having one of those really hard days—it was hot in Vernonia and nothing was going “right”. I am of Northern European descent—(read as: Viking Woman!) and I do not do well in the heat. Everything I was trying to do with the cabin wasn’t working. I was starting to spin out—my brain was playing cruel tricks an me: disguising a lie within a truth. (i.e. “This is the third time you’ve cut that piece of wood and you keep getting it wrong! [truth] You can’t do anything right, you’ve never done anything right and nobody really loves you—nobody’s loved anybody ever!" [lie])*

​I took a forced deep breath and looked up at the tree-line to the north. I like that tree-line because it is the property boundary and it slopes upward and the trees get taller and taller--it makes me feel safe. I decided the answer to my frustrations must be spiritual--a spiritual solution. I keep telling myself "when I move out to the country I can meditate" --the quiet green is perfect for communing with nature and higher powers and everything. Then, because I'm not a total moron, the next thing I usually tell myself is "No matter where you go, there you are--meditation is possible in the quiet green or the noisy polluted wherever. You're either going to do it or you're not--a serene environment isn't required for prayer and meditation. 

Side note: when I was getting my BFA, I used to think about "The Perfect Studio". If I had a studio that was really big/small! If I had a studio that had lots of/very low light! If I had a studio that was up high/down low! In other words, if I had the Perfect Studio to suit my needs at this very moment in time, I would actually work longer, work harder, get better results, be happier. But, since I don't have the Perfect Studio, I think I'll go out and get loaded! But, of course, studios don't matter. Drive and passion and need find a way wherever they are. There was an artist who had to go into hiding during WWII because her people were being taken from their homes and systematically killed. She had to live in this tiny cramped cellar-like space for...years? I want to say years, but I am not sure. Her vision for things was large--large hulking sculptures. Over time she made this body of work in tiny segments, pieces and parts. When she came out of hiding, she was offered a show and she assembled the pieces into these towering sculptures, ten, fifteen, twenty feet high. Her vision was not limited to her space. Like a weed winding up through a crack in a sidewalk, nature finds a way--and so does art. 
 
If I don't meditate where I am, I'm not going to meditate somewhere else. 

​I really want this move to Vernonia to expand my spiritual life--it feels like the next right step--but my spiritual life exists wherever I am--so "waiting" until I "get there" won't work. 

So, there I am staring at the northern tree-line, completely on edge, teeth clenched and I think "Ok, woman! It's now or never!" and I sit down hard in a busted up wooden chair I had been using as a step-stool. I'm going to meditate myself into instant happiness! This is me-- willing-- and I want the rewards! I do my mediation stuff: breathing, calming, listening...all the while my brain keeps jumping in and saying stuff like, "This is great!... You're so spiritual!... You are doing what you said you'd do.... Good job!" I keep trying to wrestle my brain out of the way so I can empty...empty...empty my mind. So God can some in...and rescue me...from the noise of my ego... And my brain keeps piping up, "Isn't meditating great?...Wait until you tell Rich!...He's going to love you even more now!..." and this going on for what feels like hours but it's really only two or three minutes because I have a timer going because I want to know exactly how long I'm being a spiritual giant. I start to get overwhelmed with how badly the whole thing is going and I start getting weepy and frustrated because I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM DOING and IT'S NOT HELPING ANYWAY. 

I hate feeling uncomfortable--I always have. I drank myself half to death in my attempt to never feel uncomfortable. It's just relatively recently I've discovered the value of discomfort--but that doesn't make it any more comfortable.

I'm feeling petulant now; entitled. I'm doing the best I can, don't I deserve some relief!? So I decided to switch from meditation to prayer. The best kind of prayer: "Help me!" and the worst kind: "Help me by giving me what I want right now!" I desperately searched my brain for how the universe could prove to me I mattered--RIGHT NOW.

Instantly and image of Tyger came to mind. Tyger is the giant garter snake I saw once. He's stripy so I named him Tyger after the poem by William Blake. I say the first stanza aloud every time I walk through the tall grass so he won't be startled and swallow me whole.

"Tyger, tyger burning bright
In the forest of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could shape thy fearful symmetry?"

I took a picture of him at the time thinking he was a rather large snake--maybe three feet? Most of the snakes are no more than 18 inches. When I showed the photo to my son and his friend,  his friend pointed out that the snake was probably bigger than 3 feet--did I not notice the tail in the bottom of the picture?....What?!

Tyger is out of control gigantic! Probably six feet! It's possible, I found out, for him to be that large--just uncommon.

So I issued a challenge to the Powers that Surround Us. "God--I am suffering! Show yourself to me!....Bring Tyger here, now, have him pass in front of this chair right now and then I will know that I matter and that I'm special maybe even more special than the people who don't get snakes!" And I waited, trying to remain calm and putting out a snake vibe: snakes, come to me....I briefly pondered the concept of Magic--real Magic that taps into natural forces--that must be possible-- and I know I can do this Magic suddenly-- even though I have not studied or practiced for such a skill. 

Tyger, tiger burning bright....

Tyger is a good divine sign to ask for, I think, because I haven't seen a snake for a while. I was always running across them when it was cooler--but now they can sun themselves anywhere they want, I suppose, and they aren't in the open as much.

I can't focus on anything other than what I want and getting it. ​I start thinking about how great it's going to be when Tyger shows up and I can tell everyone about it and I'll say something humble about God sending me a sign and how we are all connected--but my secret underlying message will be: "Yes, we are all connected but I am more connected than you--check out my snake story."

I sit there closing my eyes and opening them, close, open, close, open, waiting and watching for the snake to calmly and casually slither by--and this is the only thing I've ever wanted the only thing I've ever needed and the only thing I'll ever ask for ever, please please, please, snake, snake snake. And I hear my whinny, begging brain--telling God how to do it and I know it's no good and I start to think maybe if I approach it differently, say different words or better words, more poetic words, or no words at all in the perfect state of emptiness--that there will be a traceable formula for getting God's attention--and if I'm smart enough, experienced enough, hurt enough, humble enough, than Poof! I can have all the snakes I want! If I am not getting what I want I must be doing something wrong.

If I'm not getting what I want... than I must be doing something wrong...

Now there is a lie I recognize. Immediately. If there is one thing I've learned in recovery it is this: I can take all the correct action and still not get what I want.

Fuck! The snake's not coming! I jumped up off the chair and clomped off, frustrated and full of self-pity and self-loathing (that's my thing). A part of me secretly wondered if this moment of clarity will bring Tyger out of the bush now--an even better story! "Gee, I was trying so hard to control it but when I stopped, that's when God sent me my reward!" But Tyger is off doing snake things that have nothing to do with me. Duh. 

​To be continued...

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*When I saw Interstellar at the Hollywood Theatre in Portland, toward the beginning Matthew McConaughey says to his daughter: “I love you. I’m coming back.” and immediately, involuntarily, like a reflex, my brain said to me, “Nobody loves anybody. Nobody ever comes back.” Totally calm thought; not born of identifiable anger or bitterness, presented as a logical conclusion of my life experience: “Nobody loves anybody. Nobody ever comes back.”
The good news, because of the extensive recovery work I’d done, I recognized it as the lie that it was. The bad news, I still hadn’t really experienced anything to contradict it yet. This was early on when my husband-to-be was courting me--we went to see this movie together. I am happy to say I am beginning to believe that some people do love each other and some people come back and some people never leave in the first place!
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