“Leave 'em alone and they'll leave you alone.”

The startled snake coiled in the clearing, reared, rattling, ready. My beagle barked furiously. I held him back, but continued to watch. At thirteen, I wanted to experience and observe this famous danger for myself. Doc and I slowly backed away and lived to run wild through the Georgia pines another day. I was reminded of this after hearing a few other snake stories in Nashville during the past week.

At the Bellevue Memoir Group facilitated by Bob Allen, I heard a writer quote a snake killer from her youth, “Leave ‘em alone and they’ll leave you alone.” The snake in her story continued to live behind her house; the family continued to keep an eye on it. 

A writer in Lebanon will include a snake story in her memoir: Glass jars of live frogs and snakes came along with a visiting herpetologist friend, and they were swiftly brought into her kitchen to be watered! The young teacher sometimes joined this scientist on his research expeditions, and even visited behind the scenes of the reptile house in San Diego. This story came from a reminisced event of over 60 years ago, but the teller made it seem like yesterday (when she chased a “handsome” raccoon from her porch)!

10th century B.C. Coiled Snake in bronze, China, Western Zhou Dynasty, seen in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

Stories can also be songs, so watch yourself! Sometimes a story is like a snake. Fearsome, awesome, and a source of wisdom—if handled correctly. You can be a snake tamer with a magic flute, or a detached observer with the snakes in your past. Looking the other way won't make your snake leave; you must keep an eye on it! A symbol of regeneration, the snake sheds its skin to begin life anew. Telling your story, singing your song, your way, creates a new image of yourself. There is more to memoir than memory. Find victory, peace and empowerment in facing your snakes.

Deborah Wilbrink