“Knowing one, you accomplish all.” —Tibetan saying
Hiking in the Sierra, we frequently see rattlesnakes, usually slithering away at a steady clip, but sometimes curled up to a rock. Today, I’m looking at three of them, young, all tangled up together. Even I, dedicated naturalist, feel my skin crawl and my veins flood with adrenaline.
I tell myself to stay calm, be reasonable, ignore my lifelong fear of snakes. During my formative years in Florida, I saw snakes everywhere—slithering in the yard, sunning themselves beside the road, even streaming on top of the lake. Nobody had any use for them—dark, deadly, and fit only to be destroyed.
Now, as I manage to return breath to my lungs and step oh-so-quietly backward, I can view the snakes as I view other wildlife, a thread in the tapestry of Nature, a highly evolved creature. They stare with unblinking vigilance, give warning before attacking, and have evolved poison as a survival tool to secure food. Though they can move with alarming speed, especially when they are approaching you, snakes have no legs, wings, or fins. They get where they want to go by bending. They have mastered one way and accomplish all they need to do.
Many of the great spiritual traditions agree that the way to enlightenment is found by following one tradition with all our heart and soul while remaining open and respectful to the insights of all the others. Like the snake: focused on our path but flexible.
