Shedding
Last days of the Year of the Snake, preparing for the Year of the Horse & the Millennial urge to gain a digital world and real life equilibrium.
When I was a teenager, I was sent to a ranch school in the mountains of New Mexico.
We worked with the U.S. Forestry Service—clearing brush along roadsides, digging trenches during fire season, and replanting ground cover in areas scorched by wildfires. I can still feel the sun beating down on my back, still hear the crunch of dry grass underfoot as we cautiously moved through overgrown terrain.
In those environments, exposure to wildlife—especially snakes—was high.
We were warned to stay alert. To steer clear of rattlesnakes, massasaugas, and any snake with a triangle-shaped head and slit pupils. Venomous. Dangerous. We were told to be extra careful when clearing brush and tall grass, where visibility was limited and surprise encounters were common.
Every so often, we’d come across a gopher snake. It would coil up, shake its tail against the ground, and convincingly mimic a rattlesnake. But it was relatively harmless.
If This Year Has Felt Raw
If this past year has felt raw to you, you’re not imagining it.
You’re not losing it—you’re being encouraged to lose the parts of yourself that no longer fit.
This last cycle carried strong snake-like qualities. Snakes live with their bellies pressed to the ground, sensing every vibration, every subtle shift in their environment. That level of sensitivity can feel exposing, even destabilizing.
Many of us felt it.
As time moved forward, the identities we once relied on—and the ways we moved through the world or were perceived within it—began to serve us less. You may have noticed this tension in your own body. An unease. A restlessness. An urge to change without quite knowing how.
And so began the shedding.
The layers we carried no longer protected us. They no longer reflected how we wanted to engage with a changing landscape. Shedding meant releasing what was restrictive—along with any bacteria or parasites we picked up along the way—making space for the Higher Self for the Higher US, if we allow it.
A snake doesn’t shed once and move on.
It scrapes repeatedly against its environment—rocks, bark, earth—until the old skin loosens and it can finally wriggle free.
Renewed.
Shedding is not graceful.
It’s necessary.
And so we must show ourselves the grace and patience of process.
A New Landscape
We are now facing a new landscape.
And like the snake, humans outgrow former versions of themselves. Our bodies shift hormonally with time and seasons. Our lives require us to adapt—to changes in behavior, technology, economics, culture-keeping, and communication.
A gentle reminder: we are not yet in the Year of the Horse.
According to Chinese systems of cosmological timing, the shift into Horse energy begins in February, if following the Gregorian calendar.
The Year of the Horse promises a less vulnerable energetic experience—one that lifts us off the ground and places us on strong legs.
As long as we use them.
Take a moment now.
Stand barefoot on the earth.
Feel your feet supporting the weight of your body.
Wiggle your toes.
Breathe in the steadiness beneath you.
Learning from the Horse
During my time at the ranch school, I also had the privilege of learning horsemanship. It was one of the leading Paso Fino horse ranches in that region of the state.
At first, I resisted. As a city kid, I couldn’t imagine when I’d ever use this skill. In fact it, where other’s knocked out this step very early on in their program, I, I left to my very last box to check. What I didn’t understand then—but came to appreciate now—was that the true value wasn’t horsemanship itself.
It was the relationship.
Being on a horse satisfies something primal: the desire to harness power, to feel in control. But the greatest results never came from brute force. They came from confidence. From subtle communication. From presence.
Your internal state—your consciousness—directly affected how the horse responded to you.
And once trust was established, the freedom that followed—the confidence born from connection—created a rush unlike anything else.
As One Cycle Closes
As we approach the closing of one cycle and the beginning of another, I leave you with a few questions:
What parts of yourself are you struggling to let go of?
How have they served you in the past?
How are they now harming your present or future?
What becomes possible if you release them?
A Simple Ritual
I invite you to create a personal ritual—alone or with a few trusted friends:
Write out the behaviors, identities, thoughts, and perceptions you do not want to carry into this new cycle.
Write down how holding onto them continues to affect you.
Write out the version of yourself—and the practices—you are ready to step into.
Read these words aloud.
Share them with yourself in the mirror or with your trusted circle.
Commit to giving yourself the grace required for real change.
Return to these reflections as often as needed to support your transition into this new energetic cycle.
Please feel free to share your experience in the comments. I’d love to hear how it unfolds for you.
Note: I am not Chinese. I am a student of energy studies from cultures around the world, writing from lived experience and reflection.