The Two Snakes
In the Gospel of Saint Matthew in the Bible we read, “Small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it”. Few find the inner path to self- and God-realization because we identify with our mind, which constantly distracts us from our spiritual purpose. We need to exercise constant vigilance over the mind; otherwise, by indulging in what the author of Living Meditation terms “compulsive thinking”, we are likely to act upon the multitude of thoughts and desires the mind constantly generates. Spiritual progress, on the other hand, requires us to resist our instinct to embroil ourselves in the outer world and to mold our life in such a way that our every thought and action reflects our desire to reunite with the Lord. We must not underestimate the self-discipline and spiritual rigour this requires as we simultaneously meet our worldly obligations. We must completely reverse our most deeply ingrained habits and not succumb to most of the expectations society places upon us. As the author of The Prodigal Soul puts it:
The world says that physical existence is everything and all-important; spirituality says that it is only a mirage. The world fears death; spirituality advocates dying daily. The world says we should build up our sense of identity; spirituality says that we have no identity. The world seeks material comforts and sensory pleasures; spirituality considers them distractions retarding spiritual progress. The world says, “indulge”; spirituality says, “abstain”. The world says “go out and enjoy yourself”; spirituality says “go in and enjoy yourself”.
Becoming spiritually focused – that is, turning our attention inwards and away from the external – may be likened to swimming upstream or climbing a slippery rock face behind a waterfall. A single lapse in concentration is all it takes to fall to the bottom, washed away by the downward tendencies of the mind. Acknowledging the enormity of the challenge, the mystics frequently use powerful images to convey the effort required from spiritual aspirants.
The following is an abridged version of a parable featured in The Prodigal Soul. The writer tells us that folklore supposed that snakes had a jewel of great value embedded in their head, and for this reason they were once the prey of poachers. In the parable a poacher traps a snake and kills it to steal the jewel. A second snake outwits the poacher and so escapes the fate of its friend.
‘Heavy-to-carry’ and ‘Light-to-carry’ were two snakes whose bodies were each as large as the other’s, with tails of equal length also. Greatly attached to each other, they set off one morning and as they slithered and glided along the path, they shared with each other their hopes and aspirations, which they interspersed with jokes about hawks, falcons and all the other species that prey upon snakes. Eventually, however, the two snakes went their separate ways. One snake decided to investigate the hollow they had come across while the other continued with his journey.
Now, the path upon which the two snakes were slithering and sliding was flanked by a mountain on one side and an ocean on the other. Further ahead and, unbeknownst to our two friends, a poacher lay in wait, eager to catch any snake foolish enough to fall into the trap he had just created over a pit of burning hot coals.
Upon coming to the pit, the first snake kept to one side and watched the roaring fire. After a while, it decided to carry on with its journey and, without taking any time to assess whether he could reach the other side safely, decided to jump over the pit. However, the shape of the snake’s body was such that it was impossible for him, in effect, to take a gigantic long-jump. While it managed to get its head across, its body lay in the middle and its tail – far too long for the pit – remained on the other side. Nearby, the poacher watched the snake writhe in agony as it burnt to death. Seizing his opportunity, the poacher came out of hiding and, upon cutting open the snake’s head, left happy with a diamond in his hand.
After a while, the second snake came upon the pit and it cried out in pain as it found the mutilated body of its former companion. Tired and wrung out from mourning, it began thinking about its own fate. As it reflected on what had befallen its friend, the second snake reached a conclusion: the only way to clear the pit was to cut off its own tail. So, back it went to the depression and, finding an abandoned fire left by a shepherd, the snake burnt much of its tail in preparation for clearing the pit. Once it became smaller, the now tailless snake jumped the fiery pit with ease.
The following excerpt is from a commentary included in The Prodigal Soul to help demystify the spiritual significance of the parable:
Of these two snakes, the first is the person who loves the body, for whom submission to self-discipline is troublesome, and who is unconcerned about the soul. His tail is long. The second snake is the person for whom the soul is dearer than the body… and because his attachment to the world is very weak, the fetters binding his soul are very weak.
The Prodigal Soul elaborates upon the explanation, noting that the mountain and the ocean flanking the path symbolize the physical universe, where temptations and spiritual ignorance keep the soul trapped on all sides. The first snake couldn’t give up its body or material attachments, thus it burned itself in the fiery temptations of the material world, preventing it from journeying to higher spiritual planes. By contrast, the second snake symbolizes souls strong enough to overcome the distractions of the world. Specifically, the snake’s use of the shepherd’s abandoned fire to burn its tail exemplifies the way in which disciples can succeed by undertaking the spiritual discipline imparted by their Master. By subjugating the body and the attraction of the senses to their spiritual will, these disciples are liberated from desire and attachment. Once this occurs, the soul is granted entry to higher spiritual regions.