My snake died. Little baby Bird, who I
kind of hated. It was as if guilt had tainted my adoration for him.
The adoration I had imagined I'd have for him before I even had him.
Every time I'd see that huge terrarium my stomach would tighten and
that feeling would take over. But I couldn't get rid of him, right?
I'd spent so long convincing my dad to let me, and doing research,
and talking about it, I couldn't just get rid of him. I'd have to
stick it out. All 30 years of the expected life-span of a ball
python. Lucky for me, I didn't even have to deal with him for 30
days. It's not that I think snakes are bad pets or that I was
incapable of caring for him. It was something else. It was that small
whisper of doubt before the purchase. Maybe I shouldn't do this.
But I couldn't think of reason why I shouldn't so I ignored it. I'll
be happier with a snake. And cool. Snakes are cool. They
are, but I wasn't happier. I was sick in my gut. But I had already
bought the snake's stuff and the snake itself, and it was too late.
But then he stopped eating, and I was worried. I had expected when
I'd gotten him that I'd hold him all the time and train him to ride
on my shoulders, but I hardly touched him. He hid under the rock in
his tank and I rarely even looked in on him. He felt like a stranger,
like some alien thing that I couldn't bear to touch but I knew I
needed to so he'd get used to me. The other day I called my friend
and asked her if she wanted the snake. I couldn't do it. While on the
phone with her I went to get him out of the cage and when I lifted
the rock up, Bird didn't move. I poked him. He still didn't move.
Bird was dead. At first I was upset and angry because, as everyone
knows, all my pets die. Then I felt bad because I was relieved. I
wouldn't have to deal with the snake for 30 years.
I have to
interject here and tell you that no dead anything smells as bad as a
dead snake. Trust me, I've smelled a lot of dead things, and this was
the worst. I could hardly breathe. The room was humid from the heat
lamps and humidifier and the stench settled in the air heavy and
suffocating. I had to get it out. I took a box in one hand, picked up his carcass with the other. His scales were sharp
and loose and entirely wrong. His belly was blue from the blood. But
that wasn't even the worst part. His jaws were clamped around his own
body. My snake had tried to eat himself. The whole image is burned in
my brain, and I get sick just thinking about it. In fact, that image
pops into my head quite often. It's haunting.
When
the dead snake and his terrarium were no longer in my house, the
window was open, and purifying oils were diffusing, I sat on my floor
confused, and somewhat lost. This whole month has been a weird almost
terrifying one. My mind has been muddled and unsure, and afraid. I've
been regretful and somewhat hopeless. I've been dark and struggling.
But I also felt that something was happening. Something I couldn't
explain, and didn't understand. I just felt like something was going
to happen, was happening. To me? I didn't know. So I sat there
listening to a song and trying to understand, when it happened. That
snake was a representation. He was my darkness, my sin, the evil
human nature and it's desires. And it was gone. And it was gone from
me too. My whole life I have longed to want to be light. To be clean
and new. I used to say the salvation prayer at church youth
gatherings just to feel that rebirth that everyone talks about. I
wanted that fervor and that reassurance. But it never happened. I
never felt any different. I attributed it to the fact that I had already
said that prayer when I was little and that it only worked once. That
I had already been reborn and couldn't be re-reborn. I was really
bummed. I'd never understand. Never feel that because I didn't have
some great turning to God story. But sitting on the floor in my
bedroom confused and lost, I felt Him. I felt God in a way I never
had before. I didn't say any sort of saving prayer. I said, why. What
are you trying to tell me? I didn't hear a voice. I didn't hear an
answer. I felt forgiveness. God didn't mean for me to buy that snake.
He didn't want me to for some reason I can't explain. But I did. And
it died, and I found God. I found that rebirth. My whole body and
soul become clean and light and I felt forgiven. I felt free of that
darkness I'd held on to. Suddenly, I didn't feel that draw anymore. I
wanted nothing to do with it. I just wanted light and I wanted to be
light. I wanted to love everyone, and be loved in return. I hadn't
felt that way in a long time. In all my life, actually. And it didn't
come at a religious gathering. It didn't happen with a salvation
prayer. I became new. I found life, on the floor in my bedroom when I
was lost.
In
life, we decide we want things. Like a snake. Or we're drawn to
something dark and wrong. And maybe we rationalize it, and make it
feel okay even though there's that little voice saying maybe not. But
we give in. We get the pet, we let ourselves have a little darkness,
and we think it'll make us happy. But then it sits in our home, in
our room, near our bed, and we have to see it every day, and suddenly
we think maybe we don't want it anymore but that it's too late and
we'll just have to learn to live with it. And maybe we boast about it
because we'll seem cooler that way. Shock value. But we know. Deep
down where we don't want to admit it. I can't live with
this. But the thing is, we don't
have to. Once we're willing, once we're ready to be rid of that sin,
that darkness, all we have to do is ask. All we have to do is want to
be light, free. God looks into our inmost being and sees. I've wanted
for a long time to get rid of that darkness but at the same time, I
wanted it too much. But this month, I've realized that what I really
want is to hear God. To feel His love, to get His direction. Even
though I didn't realize it, He'd been working on me, on my heart.
I've reached absolute depression and found the cure. That snake
killed itself. And I killed my darkness. The guilt is gone. The
darkness in the corner of my bedroom is gone. I'm new. I'm light. And
light is all I want. I'm clean, and I thank God with every ounce of
my being.
