Here’s a story of the many physical, emotional, symbolic or esoteric things I carry. Some have value others don’t. Sometimes I’ll tell you why, sometimes I won’t.
That’s right, snakes. I have a huge fear of snakes. Even this little critter gives me the heebie-jeebies.
This fear has no value, except when the aliens invade from space then my fear of their snakelike manner will serve me well. In the meantime, there is no value to my fear of snakes. I need to find a way to let go of this anxiety.
When I was less than five, one of my most vivid memories is based on a nightmare from when my family lived in a townhouse in Endicott, NY. In my dream, the whole family was in bed and in my mind’s eye I was floating above living room. All of a sudden the fish tank started filling up with snakes. The snakes filled the tank up. Slithered out of the tank. Snake upon snake. Every color. Every size. Snake upon snake. They filled the living room like water fills a bathtub. Higher and higher. Swallowing the weenier dog. Filling every room on the ground floor. From floor to ceiling. A mass of withering, shifting and turning snakes. Hissing and making the sound of shuffling feet across a hardwood floor.
Higher and higher the snakes spread. Up the steps. Down the hall. They filled the hallways. Wall to wall. No light or space between them.
The weight of the snakes pushed open my door. They flowed into my room. Higher and higher. A torrent of scales and split tongues.
Finally reached the height of my bed. They engulfed me. Surrounded me. Smothered me. Finally, diving down my throat. In my ears. Up my nose.
I screamed myself awake.
This was my dream. This is the root my snake phobia. This phobia needs to be jettisoned from my emotional baggage because it has no value.
Except for when the aliens come.