I recently started a shamanic energy healing program based in the Incan tradition. We began our program with a week-long focus on the archetypical energy of the serpent. The theme was about shedding our skin as the serpent does.
The underlying concept was that for us to become better healers, we need to shed that which no longer serves our own wholeness. In other words, we need to become healed vessels so that we may support the healing of others.
Well, it struck me that there is no more apt metaphor for our attachments than the idea of our skin! Our skin covers us. It protects us. It keeps our tender parts safe. And often, so do our attachments.
A specific exercise turned out to be quite provocative for me, so I offer it up to you for reflection. We were asked to think of stories that we tell about ourselves repeatedly, both to others and to ourselves. We were specifically encouraged to think about those stories that we hold as being facts. Then we were asked serve as our own objective, non-judgmental witnesses, and to consider ways in which these same stories might be holding us back in our lives.
As we shared in small groups, I was struck by how attached we can get to even the most innocuous-seeming stories. More importantly, I learned that being attached to these stories—albeit often unknowingly—can hold us back, both energetically and physically.
For instance, one woman found that her simple story of being "a single mom of two"— a fact she had pronounced over and over again—was holding her back energetically from finding a new partner (because she constantly told the story that she was single.) Another man’s story was that he had a "chronic back problem". He realized that he saw himself as less than whole and had bought into the story that he would never be pain-free in his life. What a dooming thought!
In my own personal reflections, I discovered that I was unknowingly attached to a story that I was genetically at risk for heart disease. While this is a scientific fact, by holding that as "truth," I was holding myself in fear.
In a completely different realm, I had to laugh at myself when I realized that my story of coming from a "stoic Scandinavian family where everyone works hard and pulls ourselves up by our bootstraps" had been holding me back from from asking for or receiving help and support from others when I need it.
Of course, not all stories hold us back. Yet what I noticed, through my own experiences and those of my fellow students, is that our stories can contain their own energies, create their own truths, and become skin that doesn’t let us breathe the way we want to in our lives.
Said another way, our stories are the energetic equivalent of a blinking yellow light. Although the road may be just fine, we still need to take notice, proceed with caution, and make sure there aren’t any dangerous attachments blocking our way.
I challenge you to think about this for yourselves. What stories have you let seep into your own energetic field, perhaps even unknowingly? Have you let any stories become skin that you actually may not want attached to your energy body?
The beauty and power of it all is that we are the creators, editors, and tellers of our stories. And, as the Dhammapada says:
"All created things are impermanent.
Seeing this with insight,
One becomes disenchanted with suffering.
This is the path to purity."
(verse 277, Gil Fronsdal translation)
By seeing our stories with insight, we get to decide what to do with them. Do we hold onto them dearly? Pick away at them scale by scale? Perhaps exfoliate a little bit and then rub some lotion on our skin to smooth it all out?
Or, are we disenchanted enough with the suffering from our stories to simply shed them, as the serpent sheds her skin?
