What am I doing here on substack in the year of the snake?

I held that question and went for a midday walk.

I stepped out onto the wide expanse of a very green sports field. The sky was blue as blue. My two dogs raced ahead, and I was deep in thought when the strangest thing happened. I stopped, made a clean, very deliberate 90-degree turn, and just stood there. I had no idea why. It felt weird. I simply stood there—waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for what? An answer to the question: What the hell am I doing here, standing in the middle of this field?

A quick, nervous glance left and right, and I thought, well, no-one is watching and the dogs are happy playing by the lake. Why not just stand here and learn how to be? So I did. I stood there in a mellowed state of open curiosity, quietly amused by the absurdity of it all.

Directly ahead of me was a concrete drain cover. It was roughly 20 to 25 meters away. It cast a thin, black shadow along its edge. My eyesight isn't what it used to be, so I had to strain a little to make it out; that shadow could be a snake I thought. I knew it wasn't, of course, but I indulged in the fantasy, finding the idea a delightful source of amusement—another little entertaining folly to pass the time as I stood there in my dream like stupor-waiting...

...and then, in direct line of my hazy gaze, exactly halfway between me and that shadow, there she was. Blacker than black, with flashes of shimmering silver, stark against the vivid green she rippled. She stopped, raised her head, flickered her tongue for directions, then head down, rippled some more. Head up and head down, I watched, enchanted, mesmerised by her grace and fluid movement as she wove her way across the field.

What a gift to witness to this elegant cameo of life in motion—so pure and simple. Unadulterated. I had no fear, no panic, just a heart filling with love and gratitude at being able to marvel at this precious moment. A witness to life doing life.

And I wondered—how many would send thoughts of harm, not love, to that snake, completely missing her exquisite beauty by throwing their knives of fear and thoughtless, panic-driven death threats? Am I so strange and disconnected from this world of norms that all I wanted to do was bathe her in delicate threads of pink and golden light—to celebrate her life? And then, with an unexpected rebellious surge, I sent her more—all, in fact. All the love, joy, and gratitude I could muster. A laughable, childish, pathetic, feeble attempt, perhaps, to balance out the scales. My little heart, in this green, green field, on this glorious day, having a tantrum against all of mankind's shameful crimes against nature, Mother Earth, and her gifts of life in all its forms. “Fuck it” I thought. “Why not? I will stand. I will be life's ambassador. Let me do love with all those fears and all that pain—the ignorance and arrogance of man and his laws. The justifications and rationalizations that make wrongs right and rights wrong. It's just a little bit of poison, just a little bit of hate; everybody else does it...”

So, in my heart, I danced the ghost dance. I cried the grief of loss and called all the nature spirits back. I made my pledge to truth and harmony, to nature's laws, not man's. I sent out my echo call to the ancestors of the past. “I hear you. Your prayers are not in vain; they are not lost. They are here in my heart; they live here. There is still hope. I will hold the torch.'“ And then, just like that, she was gone—my friend, my ally, my snake. The spell was broken, and I could move again.

So What am I doing here on Substack in this year of the snake?

I am learning how to trust the quiet whispers carried by the wind. Moving forward blind-aimed true with nothing but a vague, illusive sense of what my destiny may hold. I am living in the void, with naught but a little quickening of hope and curiosity by my side.

I am head down weaving, ripples on a page.