What a copperhead bite is teaching me about letting go
My 9-month old pup, Louie, was escaping from our deer fence. Following some reinforcements, we’d gone a week with no breakouts. On this particular Monday, I’d just completed a Zoom session with my personal trainer and came outside to see what the dogs were up to. I saw Riley immediately, and then Louie in the distance. Deer fences are designed to fade into the background so it took a minute to realize Louie was on the wrong side of the fence.
Fortunately, Louie knows he has it really good being a Stevens dog and has no interest in running away. That said, if his curiosity leads him to wander too far, the troubles he could find range from eating the neighbor’s chickens to getting shot by a farmer.
And then it happened . . .
So, it was with a sense of urgency that I set out to find his latest escape route. With marker flags and repair kit in hand, I started walking the fence. We’ve learned what signs to look for and I quickly found an area that looked suspicious. Since he’d been digging and pushing the fence from the bottom, I got closer to the ground to see if I could push my arm through to the other side. Within seconds, I felt an searing pain on the middle finger of my right hand. Somehow, I had the clarity to stay put long enough to see if I could identify my attacker and saw a fast moving, squiggly thing - later confirmed to be a baby copperhead.
It was 3:30 in the afternoon and getting in to see a doctor in my GP office wasn’t possible but was forwarded over to the triage nurse. By this point, I’m realizing that this is no minor bite and it’s taking a lot of effort to sound sane, much less calm. After sharing that I thought I might lose my finger, she suggested I go to Urgent Care. I was there within the hour and after a long wait, went home with script for an antibiotic and pain meds. Around 8:00 that night, it became very clear that Ibuprofen was a highly inferior remedy for my pain level.
Pain like I’ve never felt before
After a sleepless night of anguished cries and wondering if cutting off my finger would bring less pain, I got in to see my doctor over her lunch hour (she’s truly amazing). By this time, my hand and arm are so swollen they seem to belong to somebody else and the venom is tracking a path through my veins all the way into my bicep. When my doctor said she was referring me to a hand specialist for possible skin graphs and therapy, I fell apart. It was only after she assured me that the most I could lose was the tip of my finger that I pulled it together. She ordered blood work and gave me a script for Oxycodone, all the while ranting over Urgent Care sending me home with nothing stronger than Ibuprofen.
Didn’t COVID take enough?
The Oxy relieved most of the physical pain but not the emotional angst I felt from losing the only outside activities still part of my daily routine since COVID - tennis and personal training. Wasn’t giving up hockey, basketball, theatre and the freedom to socialize and have real human connection enough? To be forced to be inactive for at least a month was too much. Self pity was running deep.
And then something happened that would forever shift my perspective on being bitten by a copperhead. When sharing my story with a dear friend (and homeopath) from Unity Center of Peace, after expressing her empathy that this happened to me, she said:
“I’m a huge believer in the symbolism of snakes and their power of transformation!!! Would never in a million years wish this on you … but how crazy that this happened at a moment in your life when you are transitioning into your powerful spiritual self in your work!”
Snakes and transformation
What? You mean snakes aren’t just those awful creatures that hide in the grass, surprise you when you’re hiking and bite your dogs? They represent transformation? While shocked, I was also intrigued. You see, I’ve been curious about transformation for some time - my own, the planet’s, and our infrastructures’ (politics, business, religion, health care). Since COVID, I’ve spent even more time reflecting on areas within my own life where I want to invite transformation so I can be in alignment with who I want to be and how I want to live. And, how I can use my coaching gifts and experiences to help others curious about exploring the same for their lives?
So, what am I learning about letting go?
Achievements, successes and titles from the past did not define me then and they certainly should not today.
Seeing myself through the lens of the past only serves to box me in and squelch my curiosity
How I’ve defined myself up to this point (my “brand”) may no longer be relevant to NOW - and shouldn’t be! I’m a person who’s evolving - old definitions don’t fit.
Stop being afraid to show up in ways that confuse or disappoint people who have different views of who I am.
Being vulnerable is not only OK, it gives others “permission” to be the same. It invites REAL conversation and true connection.
Stop segmenting my life. I don’t have a “work” self and “personal” self. I’m a whole person with multiple layers and I need to bring all of me and all my light into every situation!
I don’t wish a snake bite on anyone and I’m certainly very intentional about avoiding future ones. Yet, I wouldn’t trade the inner growth I’ve experienced as a result of my snake bite incident for anything.
What is it you’re wanting to let go of? You don’t have to suffer a snake bite to experience transformation in your life. I’ve created a 4-step guide you can download to help you get real clarity on areas of your life that you’re loving, and not loving, and how to use your emotions and internal guidance to invite change and new possibilities into your life. I’d love to hear about one thing you want to let go of - reach out!