The year of the snake has been a series of intense initiations, extractions,
A birth ritual. What’s needed is an incantation. The most worthy I think is the growl and fervor of Cornell’s cries isolated vocals from Birth Ritual. The first Soundgarden song I ever heard, on the Singles soundtrack. Dubbed for me illegally by my cousin. Seasons and Birth Ritual two ends of the spectrum of the polarity of so many moments of my life. The gentle and the fierce. Ferocious. Relentless. The things it has taken to fight battles and survive. To bring medicine from poison.
I know what it’s like to have to stare across a table from people who would prefer I not exist. I know what it’s like to reclaim my story, my voice, my freedom. To bury old versions of myself with reverence before a new version can be born, be freed from the shed. From the outer layer of protective shell which no longer fits the new expanded self.
A snake cannot return into the shed. One must move forward to free ourselves of the old scales. What medicine for these times. A birth ritual as we move into the year of the horse. A little higher off of the ground, a little more perspective and a lot more community.
May the year ahead be gentle, may the moon light be bright as we return to the days of more sunshine. May we refill our cups with our own medicine. May the vibration of our voices carry our mutually beneficial wishes to the stars. May we remember.
Gently and together.